The Barista and the Billionaire Page 2

  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” I told him. “You have like a hundred people out there. And I’m obviously not someone who partakes in casual sex or one-night stands.”

  “I don’t do casual either. Chloe, I’m not some kind of manwhore playboy, running around bedding women all the time. Look, I don’t know what happened tonight. Call it fate or destiny or just plain luck. But we met for a reason. I’m not looking for casual with you.”

  They didn’t sound like empty words, but it was a little difficult to believe. I mean, I knew there were good men out there. And that’s what I’d been saving myself for, a good man with a good heart. But I just couldn’t believe that this fairytale life was throwing itself in my lap because I decided to come to a stranger’s party.

  “Oliver, you’re crazy. I mean, yes, of course I want you. It’s a little scary how much, actually. But how could tonight be anything but casual? We live in completely different worlds. I’m just a barista from Westland.”

  “Well, I’m just a shipping and receiving clerk who’s really good at his job.” Oliver shrugged. “I don’t want casual, Chloe. If you need me to, I’ll fly you to Vegas tonight and marry you.”

  “Don’t be dumb,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “I’m dead serious. My Gran always told me that when I found the one, I’d know. And I do, Chloe. You’re the one.”

  I stared at Oliver in complete disbelief. Was he actually crazy? Well, if he was, then I was, too. Because I could actually see it. Not necessarily me in this insane house, but me in his life. Going to dinner. Curling up in front of the fire. Making love to each other morning, noon and night. Me swollen with his babies.

  Oh God. I was so screwed.

  Chapter Four

  ~ Oliver ~

  Way to go, moron. All that talk of marriage must have scared the hell out of Chloe. She stared at me kind of blankly, her mind probably running at a million miles per hour as she processed the lunacy I’d just spewed at her.

  Except it wasn’t crazy. My heart recognized hers, and I would spend the rest of my life with her. And that life would start tonight.

  I reached out and grabbed her, picking her up by the waist and setting her down on the island in front of me. She let out a squeak but didn’t push me away, which was encouraging.

  “I realize,” I said, running my hand over the slit in her dress, “fucking you here in my kitchen in the middle of a party isn’t the most convincing way to prove I want you to marry me. It’s not romantic. And at any moment, someone could walk in here and catch us.”

  A deep blush spread across her chest and face. Her nipples went visibly hard, and the hitch in her breath told me exactly what I needed to know. She wanted me.

  “So,” I continued. I slid her dress up her thighs, lifting her enough to scoot the fabric over her butt before setting her panty clad ass back on the cold marble. “We’ll have to be quick. As much as I want your first time to be special, if I don’t get that cherry in the next five minutes my cock will explode in my pants.”

  I waited two breaths for her to protest, and when she didn’t, I crashed my mouth over hers. Her legs wrapped around my waist as we kissed, her core so hot it burned against my erection, even through my pants. Breaking the kiss, I lowered myself to my knees between her thighs.

  Shoving her panties aside, I slid a finger over her soaked slit. She gasped at the touch, her hips jerking slightly. Leaning forward, I replaced my finger with my tongue, savoring her sweet honey. Delving into her virgin channel, tasting the nectar only I would ever get to taste, was almost enough to make me come right then and there. My balls were achingly tight, and as much as I wanted to spend the rest of my life on my knees between her legs, I had to have her.

  I stood, yanking her panties down her legs and slipping them into my pocket before opening my slacks.

  “Baby, I’m sorry this isn’t more romantic,” I told her.

  “Don’t be silly,” she assured me, leaning forward to capture my mouth in a scalding kiss. “I want you, too.”

  “I’ll take you to Paris next week and make love to you for hours on a bed of rose petals,” I promised her. “But tonight, I just have to fuck this sweet pussy.”

  “Take me,” she whispered.

  I let my pants and shorts fall to my ankles then slid my cock inside her. She was so wet, there was little resistance until the moment I broke through her wall of virginity, watching her face for any signs of pain. She winced, then her eyes flew out open, and she stared at me with a soft smile on her beautiful face.

  Oh yeah, Chloe was mine. Forever.

  She lay back on the island, letting me control our bodies as I rocked in and out of her. Gripping her hips to hold her steady, I fucked her tight, little pussy hard and fast, letting her gasps and moans and cries tell me she was okay.

  When I pressed my thumb firmly against her clit, her back arched off the marble and she convulsed around me, my name tumbling loudly from her lips. Her muscle spasms milked my cock, making me explode inside her so hard stars danced behind my eyes. I had to grip the edge of the counter to keep from collapsing to the floor.

  “Oh my God,” Chloe said, her hand going to her throat as her chest heaved. “Is it always like that?”

  “I’ll make sure it is,” I promised her as I reluctantly pulled out of her. “I want to spend the rest of my life making you scream my name like that.”

  I pulled up my pants, settling my tux back into place while Chloe sat up. I helped her down, smoothing out her dress for her.

  “Can I have my panties back?” she asked, holding her palm out to me.

  “No, I don’t think so,” I said, taking her hand and threading her arm through mine. “I’ll think I’ll hold on to them. Maybe, I’ll make a scrapbook for our kids. These are the underwear your mother wore the first time I fucked her in the kitchen.”

  “That’s gross on, like, a thousand different levels,” she said, but I heard the laughter in her tone, so I knew she realized I was teasing her.

  “Fine.” I blew out a fake sigh. “Then I’ll just keep them for me. Because I want them. Pretty soon, all of your panties will be in my room, anyway; so what do you care.”

  “You’re serious?” Chloe stared up at me.

  “Well, of course I’m serious.” Did she think I’d been kidding? Maybe, she believed I’d only said that stuff to get in her pants…so to speak. It wasn’t an unfair assumption. She didn’t know me, and I was sure plenty of guys had tried, and thankfully failed, to convince her to give up her cherry to them. “I really will marry you tonight if you’ll let me.”

  “Well, I won’t let you,” she said, shaking her head. “But I think I’d very much like to date you and see where it goes.”

  It was going down an aisle, with her in white, hopefully already pregnant with my child. But I’d let her move us slowly if she was more comfortable that way. As long as she was in my bed every night for the rest of our lives, the rest of the timeline could go at her pace.

  The sound of people counting down was so loud, it filtered through the heavy oak door of the kitchen.

  “It’s midnight,” I said, rubbing my thumb over Chloe’s cheek. “Make a wish and give me a kiss.”

  She closed her eyes, her lips still kiss-swollen as she silently counted down three…two…one.

  I kissed her again, trying to pour every emotion she’d awoken in me into it. My hands roamed up her back before tangling in her hair, holding her tightly against me as I tasted, nipped and sucked at her mouth.

  When I released her, she gazed up at me. A small smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “Happy new year, Oliver.”

  “Happy new year, Chloe.”

  The kitchen door banged open, and my brother stopped short at the sight of us.

  “Sorry, bro,” he said. “People are starting to leave, and Mom said you need to come say goodbye.”

  “We’ll be right there,” I said. Peyton slipped back out the door, and I heaved a sigh before turn
ing back to Chloe. “Help me kick these people out of our house?”

  “Actually,” she said, biting her lip. “I could use a restroom, if you’ll point me in that direction.”

  “I’m sorry, how rude. I should have given you a tour.” I took her hand and led her from the kitchen. “Down that hall, second door on the left is the closest. I’ll wait here.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, waving her hand. “Go mingle with your guests. I’ll find you.”

  “Okay.” I pulled her into me for another quick kiss.

  She walked away, and I turned to look for my mother, who was much more interested in these people than I ever could be. I found her in the ballroom, essentially holding court.

  “Ollie!” she cried when she saw me. “Come say goodnight to the Bergens.”

  Ugh, I couldn’t wait for Chloe to get in here and rescue me.

  Chapter Five

  ~ Chloe ~

  I’d escaped the party while Oliver was distracted with his guests. The whole night had been too overwhelming, and I needed some time to myself to think. Plus, the more I mulled over the evening, the more I thought the best course of action would be to give him some space.

  What if he’d just said all of that stuff to get in my pants? If so, how embarrassing for me to believe it. And how awkward for him to try to escape it like some sort of trap, even if it was one he’d sprung.

  When I got to my apartment, I cleaned up but couldn’t bring myself to actually shower. As stupid as it was, I wasn’t ready to wash his scent off my skin yet.

  What the hell was happening to me? I’m a reasonable person. I don’t get off on sleeping with billionaires I just met. I work hard and pay my bills and go to Lake Michigan once a year for vacation. There is no room for craziness in my life.

  But as I crawled into bed, all I could think about was Oliver. His eyes, his hands, his voice. Had it all been a game? A conquest he could boast about later? Or did he really believe he instantly fell in love with me?

  Had I fallen in love with him? Closing my eyes against the tears fighting to come out, I admitted that yes, I had fallen in love with him. I’d never thought it could happen in a moment like that. We didn’t know anything about each other, but it didn’t matter. My heart was on fire for him. Actually, all of me was on fire for him.

  It would have to wait, though. I had to be up in four hours for my shift, and I was completely worn out.

  After sending a text to Dot, apologizing for not getting a chance to see her at the party, I closed my eyes and hoped I’d dream about Oliver. At least, that way, I could feel as if he were with me.

  * * * *

  Fridays at the coffee shop were always crazy busy, which I’d hoped would keep my mind off Oliver. But instead, I was completely distracted all morning and practically useless.

  My coworkers, Donna and Jasmine, helped a lot and, even better, didn’t demand an explanation for why I was so off that morning. They probably assumed I’d been out partying too late.

  I would have loved to pawn it off on something so simple. But thoughts of my handsome billionaire kept me in a daze. I burned my hand on the milk steamer, lost two customers’ orders, and spilled an entire iced coffee down the front of my white work shirt.

  Not my best morning.

  “Mark!” I yelled into the crowd of patrons as I set a cappuccino on the counter. The man smiled or grimaced really, before taking his coffee and pushing his way toward the door.

  I blew out a sigh as I turned to make the next order. Keeping a careful eye on the steam, I frothed the milk, and as I spooned it on top, I realized I was humming Etta James. Damn it, I had it bad.

  Turning the cup to read the name, I yelled out, “Chloe’s husband!” and set the drink on the counter.

  “That would be me,” a man said, his voice achingly familiar.

  My head snapped up, and my gaze locked on Oliver Davis’ very angry glare. He was just as handsome as he’d been last night. Though, instead of his fancy tux, he wore blue jeans, a dress shirt, and a blazer.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “Looking for you,” he snapped. “I’ve been to every coffee shop in Westland, trying to find you.”

  “What if I wasn’t working today?”

  “I showed everyone your picture.” He pulled out a black-and-white photo obviously taken from surveillance cameras at the party. “When no one recognized you, I moved onto the next one.”

  “Great,” I snapped, snatching the picture from his hand. “Now everyone in town thinks I’m some kind of criminal. Thanks for that.”

  “Well, if you hadn’t run out on me, I wouldn’t have had to do that. You didn’t even leave me your number. You just disappeared.” He looked around and realized everyone in the coffee shop was staring at us. “Can we please go somewhere and talk? Privately?”

  “I’m working,” I reminded him, gesturing toward the crowd of eavesdroppers. “And we’re short-staffed. I need to get back to work.”

  I spun on my heel, sucking in a deep breath then letting it out slowly before returning to the espresso machine to get caught up on orders.

  For twenty minutes, I forced myself to focus orders, handing out coffees and brushing away stray Oliver thoughts that drifted through my mind.

  “I’m gonna do a quick lobby check,” I told Jasmine when the line finally subsided.

  “Your husband’s been doing it,” she said. “He grabbed a tray and a rag about fifteen minutes ago, and he’s been out there just chatting up customers.”

  “He’s not my husband,” I said, looking out into the lobby to see Oliver wiping down a table. His jacket was gone, his light-blue shirt rolled up his forearms. He had a bus tray on the seat beside him. “Not yet, anyway.”

  As I headed out to meet him, I glanced down at my coffee-stained shirt and sighed. I was a mess, and he looked as if he’d just stepped off the cover of GQ. What in the world did this man see in me?

  “Thank you,” I said, taking the dishes from him and setting them on the counter. “I appreciate the help.”

  “I wiped down some tables,” he said, waving his hand as if dismissing my thanks. “Considering I’d do literally anything for you, that was nothing.” He took my hand and led me to a corner table. We sat across from each other, but he kept his fingers entwined with mine. “Why did you take off last night?”

  “I was overwhelmed by everything. And, honestly, I wanted to give you the option to escape any words that may have been exaggerated by hormones.”

  “Chloe, I meant everything I said to you last night. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  “You can’t know that,” I argued. Which was ridiculous, considering I was totally sure he was the only man for me. But then, he was an impossible catch, and I was a broke disaster. “You could have anyone.”

  “Good. Because I want you.” He stood, pulling me to my feet and into his arms. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  “I can’t just leave in the middle of my shift,” I said.

  “Baby, you really don’t need this job anymore.”

  “Excuse me.” I glared at him, pulling away to cross my arms over my chest. “First of all, I’m not abandoning my coworkers. Second, I don’t think I’d be comfortable letting you support me.” I held up a hand against the argument I saw forming on his lips. “Not yet, anyway. We’ve known each other for twelve hours. Could we maybe slow down a smidge?”

  “You’re right.” He blew out a sigh. “I hate it, but you’re right. I’m just so eager to spend my life with you. I don’t want to waste even a single moment.” He tilted up my chin and kissed me. “What time do you get off?”

  “My shift ends at two, but I have to go home and shower.” I glanced down at my ruined shirt again. “And change.”

  “Okay, I’ll pick you up at two then.”

  “What did I just say?” I threw my hands up in frustration.

  “You said we’ll be in the shower together by two-thirt
y.”

  “You’re incorrigible,” I said, rolling my eyes but unable to suppress a smile.

  “I’m infatuated,” he corrected. “See you in a few hours.”

  I watched him snag his jacket, wave goodbye to my coworkers then saunter out the door.

  “Who is that guy?” Donna asked, fanning herself with a cardboard menu.

  “That,” I said, shaking my head as I went back behind the counter, “is trouble with a capital T.”

  Chapter Five

  ~ Oliver ~

  “Where are we going?” Chloe asked as the car headed toward the highway. “I live off of Ford Road in the other direction.”

  “We’re going home,” I told her.

  “Your home?”

  “Our home,” I corrected. “I guarantee the shower is better.”

  “I need clothes,” she argued.

  “You never need clothes,” I assured her.

  “Oliver!” Her gaze snapped toward the driver. “Behave yourself.”

  “I thought I was,” I whispered, nuzzling against her neck. “You’re still dressed. Which I promise, if we were alone, you wouldn’t be.”

  She giggled, shoving me back to my side of the car.

  When I hadn’t been able to find her after the party, I’d been devastated…and kind of pissed. She’d gone to the bathroom then disappeared. I’d considered having some of my guys track her down but figured it would be more romantic if I did it myself. Once I found her, I’d promised I wouldn’t let her out of my sight again. In fact, I’d never admit it to her, but I’d sat in my car in front of the coffee shop for hours to ensure she wouldn’t slip away again.

  “I’m serious,” Chloe said. “I can’t wear these stained clothes all night.”

  “When we get to the house, you can give your sizes to Susan, my housekeeper, and she’ll be thrilled to go get you something.”

  “I don’t understand what we’re doing here,” she blurted, her gaze dropping to her lap.