A Bossy Roommate (Next Door to a Billionaire #2)

30. Eden

30

EDEN

“ C ome here. I heard a certain older lady isn’t moving after all,” he answers, pulling me back. “Which is why I’ve been on the phone with Vance, twice today. He’s speaking to the landlord and will draw up a new lease agreement with your name on it. That way, no matter what happens, you always have a home.”

My mouth falls open in shock. I can’t even properly process what he said. Mostly, I can’t wrap my head around the fact that he was fired a few hours earlier, and instead of looking for a new job or fighting back, he busied himself with the whole “Rob business,” and on top of all that, he’s prepared a romantic date and told his lawyer to add me to his lease.

“You’d do that for me?” I ask.

“It’s already done. We’ll sign the papers tomorrow.”

I can’t contain myself anymore. Throwing my arms around his neck, I kiss him with as much passion and vigor as I can manage. Yes, the satisfaction of finally being able to put Rob to rest makes me want to scream in joy, and yes, the fact that I will always have a roof over my head is a tremendous help, but it’s Carter’s affection that has me smiling like a crazy person, even while I try to kiss those gorgeous lips off his face.

Carter stands, bringing me with him. I wrap my legs around his waist, trailing my lips down to his neck, which I playfully nip and suck. If he thinks I’m not going to leave hickeys now that we don’t have to hide anything, he has another thing coming.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he grumbles into my ear as he carries me. “I’m going to show you—despite today’s outside interferences—who’s still boss, and always will be, all over the apartment, in every room, all weekend long, starting in the bedroom. Any objections?”

“No.” I laugh. “None.”

“That’s a good fucking girl.”

In his bedroom— our bedroom—he lays me on the bed.

I need him, need to feel his solid chest against mine, need to remind myself that this is really happening.

I’m actually getting my happy ending.

Carter sits back, clearly enjoying my eyes on him, his black T-shirt straining against his muscular chest. I swear he wears those shirts on purpose because he knows what they do to me.

Slowly and with one hand, he pulls the shirt off from behind his neck, and before he even has a chance to toss it to the side, I run my hands up that chiseled torso, feeling his primal energy, sensing the hawk’s intensity, and grabbing his broad shoulders so I can pull him back down into another kiss.

His deft fingers undo the buttons of my blouse, not even bothering to take it off before folding it open and reaching in for my bra-covered breasts. I moan into his touch, arching my back to bring myself as close to him as I can.

Everything this man does sets my body on fire. His touch does things to me I never dreamed possible. I had known love before, at least I thought I had. But everything with Carter is different. He’s different. Not only in comparison to the other men I’ve been with, but to the version of him I’d met not too long ago.

Even tonight, something has changed. There’s a shift between us, and I know exactly what it is.

We’re all in.

Both of us are committing to this relationship, to each other. Tonight, we’re not two people seeking a comforting touch and a few hours of pleasure.

We’re Carter and Eden, officially living together—and becoming more than just a fake couple that accidentally share an apartment.

Regardless of our status, honesty and communication are the foundation of any relationship, particularly in its early stages. I know I need to inform Carter about Gretchen and my inappropriate disclosure of certain information to her.

“Take off your clothes, baby,” he growls into my ear, and I shudder at the rub down he gives me, grazing the shell of my ear with his jaw.

With that and the deep, leathery musk that invades my nose, I forget all of my good intentions.

Somewhere very, very deep inside of me, a voice assures me that I can tell him everything later, after all, there’s really no point—absolutely zero—in raining on the parade of a perfect moment with a half-baked hypothesis.

So, without a care in the world, I shrug out of my blouse, desperate to feel Carter’s bare skin against mine. Kissing me, and giving me more of that sexy stubble, he reaches around to undo my bra. Once the fabric is impatiently discarded by me and tossed somewhere across the room, two strong hands cup my naked breasts.

“So fucking beautiful. You have gorgeous breasts, I noticed the first time I saw you,” he snarls against my lips, giving them a squeeze. “Perfect size and shape.”

My nipples pucker and ache under his touch.

“Perfect for my hands,” he growls, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

I release a little whimper, and my hips buck involuntarily against his growing bulge.

I kiss my way to his neck, and I feel him shudder as my lips brush the sensitive spot just below his ear. I wrap my lips around it and suck greedily, and I’m so caught up that when he plucks my nipples and pinches them lightly between his fingers, I break off to moan in sudden pleasure.

“And perfect for my mouth.”

He leans his head down, and my hands are in his hair as his tongue licks around my nipple. Every nerve starts tingling with happiness. A prickle awakens between my legs when his tongue circles once more and then softly, almost accidentally, brushes over my nipple. Slowly, he begins to suck it in, sending tingles of pleasure through my body. After he releases the swollen bud, he blows air across it, watching it harden.

My hands fall to his shoulders, gripping hard when he flicks my other nipple with his tongue and then sucks on it rougher, almost biting me.

I moan in pain and pleasure, as my breathing grows even heavier.

“You getting wet for me, baby?”

He continues sucking and teasing, causing more shots of intense pleasure to race through my body and straight to my already-soaked clit.

“I want to see that sweet pussy slick and pulsing,” he growls, “and your little clit throbbing for me. I’ve been thinking about your gorgeous tits all day long. And about your pussy. How exactly I’m going to fuck you so good.”

My breath hitches. “So that’s…what a COO does all day?”

“If you ask me, that’s time well spent,” he remarks with conviction. With a final kiss on each peaked nipple, he moves back up, pulls me back close against him, my nipples pressing into his chest, and the outline of his cock pulsing against my center.

My hands fumble with the button of his pants, finally able to open it and pull his zipper down. I need to touch his dick, to make him feel as good as he’s making me feel.

With a nod, he pulls away, this time to push his jeans and boxer briefs down over his hips, freeing his cock. He’s hard. Thick. Angry. I wrap my hand around his length, still thrilled by the size in my palm.

I stroke and squeeze, swallowing the swears he spouts.

With a groan, he tugs my skirt down. “This needs to go. Now.”

I lift my hips to assist, and when it—and my wet panties—are gone, there’s nothing left between us.

No barriers.

Except for one maybe: my conscience.

“I can’t wait to lick you clean, baby,” he growls, interrupting my thoughts.

He doesn’t lick, or eat my pussy, he devours it. There’s no other way to describe it. By the time he’s done destroying my clit, I’m a breathing, panting mess, begging him to do everything and anything he wants with me.

I’m crazy for him, ready and willing.

We kiss when he pushes in. He steals my breath as I gasp, his hand cupping my cheek while his hips start moving back and forth, taking me slowly at first. “God, you’re gorgeous. You’re perfection, baby.”

My body is more alive than it has ever been.

“Carter…I have something to tell you,” I blurt.

I need to tell him.

He looks up without stopping his thrusting motions, continuing to fuck me. When I don’t say anything, he raises his eyebrows, softly rumbling, “What, baby?” He keeps thrusting without breaking his rhythm, or waiting for my answer.

I know at once that no matter how many times we do this, it will never be enough.

I’m always going to want him.

“Nothing,” I whisper.

And as we make love that night, as we lose ourselves in each other’s arms, I know I’m where I’m supposed to be. In his arms. Under his body. Owned by him. Loved by him. Every experience, every triumph and setback, every twist and turn filling chapters and chapters has ultimately led me to this page, where destiny has united me and him. Carter.

He pulls me up into a tight embrace. His hand cradles my head, gathering my hair into a circle around his wrist, and then he tugs my hair backward, causing my mouth to open and my head to tilt backward.

“You’re mine, all mine.”

He thrusts in.

Even with the unknown hanging over Carter’s professional life, I try to relax. By Monday morning I’ve convinced myself that it’s not Gretchen. I tell myself that I’m not that bad a judge of character, and I honestly believe it.

Despite wishing for more time to spend with Carter, I’m excited to hit the ground running when my alarm goes off.

I know whatever comes next, we can handle it, together.

But the sooner Bradley and I clear Carter’s name, the better I’ll feel.

“Any plans for today?” I ask Carter as I’m getting ready for work.

“Yes, I have a meeting with a friend who wants some investment advice.”

“I’ve gotta say, babe, you’re handling this firing way better than I would,” I tell him, picking up my coffee mug. “Aren’t you mad?” I’ve heard him on the phone with Vance once or twice, seeking advice and discussing potential courses of action. Ultimately, it all comes down to one crucial requirement: tangible evidence.

“I’m mad as fuck. My blood is boiling. In fact, I want to strangle the damn bastard who’s responsible for this. Huxley, that miserable conspirator. But there are more important tasks demanding my attention right now. I see the potential for a new beginning.”

I swallow the lump in my throat.

“That’s a great way to see things,” I say, making an effort to convey a supportive tone, but feeling terrible. His words align perfectly with his beliefs, about the significance of progressing and concentrating on goals rather than holding on to harmful influences.

“Maybe it’s because of you,” he adds, putting the tablet down and reaching under the table to lay his hand on my knee. “Maybe I’m feeling good because you’re staying with me.”

I had informed him of my plan to clear his name. He’d told me not to. He’d told me a number of times that I shouldn’t do that for him because it was risky and could cost me my job—a job I’d been more than just excited about. But it matters to me. He matters to me. They’re wrong, and I’m determined to prove it.

“It’s not fair.” I take a drink of my coffee. “I’m a positive person, at least I try to be, but this is some bullshit, and I won’t stand for it.”

He leans down and kisses the top of my head, then my lips. “All right, I have to head out. Don’t work too hard.”

By the look in his eyes, I can tell that he’s proud of me for sticking up for him (if only he knew)—but I can sense that he holds doubt regarding my chances of uncovering evidence of his sabotage.

“Okay, babe,” I say, “have a good day.”

“I’ll call you on your lunch break.”

I watch him leave, thinking what a change a little over a month could make. When we first met, we both were so adamant about pretending our first night hadn’t happened. Now, we’re living together like we’ve known each other our whole lives. I waited years to find a loving man like this, and he had fallen into my lap when I least expected it.

I take a couple of bites of my breakfast, but it doesn’t settle right. Ever since Carter was fired, food hasn’t been even remotely appealing.

I finish getting ready for work early and head out not too long after Carter leaves.

Bradley and I are full steam ahead in our investigation. However, by the time Wednesday rolls around, I’m thoroughly exhausted. Bradley and I weren’t able to find any glaring issues with the client files at our first go around, and even though what we’re doing has priority, actual work obligations demand our attention. There’s no set date for when they’ll find a permanent replacement for Carter, and between his work in NYC and the duties he as COO still has in Connecticut, Bradley is all over the place.

Gretchen has been subtly trying to help me and Bradley—which I’m taking as a good sign that she isn’t part of Huxley’s deceitful machinations. Yet I can’t dismiss the possibility that she simply wants to remain in the loop to provide updates to her boss.

Taking a deep breath, I square my shoulders and set about going through my daily routine. I check emails and phone messages, update Bradley’s calendar, and make sure new client files are ready for him to review. Once all that is said and done, I pull up the “CDB” folder I created to store the information we’ve gathered so far.

It’s not much. A lot of it is reimbursement receipts for town cars and dinner meetings that Huxley had charged to the company account. Gretchen is going to dig into Huxley’s calendar for the last month, and together we’re going to cross-reference them with the days his calendar was empty. If he had taken meetings yet didn’t have them on the books, it definitely will be suspicious.

A little while later, Bradley comes in. He looks as tired and unhappy as I feel. “Morning, Eden.”

“Morning, Bradley. I have those files you wanted to go over.”

“Thanks. Have you heard anything from IT about the messaging system?”

“Not today.”

Our internal office messaging system hasn’t been working for days. IT is trying to solve the issue, yet it seems that every time they think they have figured it out, it goes down again. Which makes things more than a little annoying.

Bradley sighs. “Ridiculous. We’ve never had a problem with it before, I don’t know what the hell is going on.”

Something clicks, and I look up from the computer. “Wait a minute. It’s been down since that day—the day Carter was sacked. That cannot be a coincidence, could it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what are the chances that the day Carter is set to be handed the pink slip our trusty messaging system suddenly stops working. And now every time our highly capable and intelligent IT department fixes it, it goes down again? You just said it yourself: We haven’t had this problem before.”

Bradley’s eyes go wide. “Call the head of IT and tell him I need to pay him a visit ASAP. Today. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before.”

“Neither of us did. We’ve been too damn busy.”

He steps into his office while I reach for the phone. I’ve called IT so many times already that I know the number by heart. Once I arrange the meeting, I jump back into my investigation. I can’t let Carter down.

When the end of the workday arrives, I decide to take my leave, too exhausted to wait for Bradley’s return and the outcome of the potentially lengthy IT meeting. Since I haven’t received any updates, I guess the outcome was insignificant, and Bradley had gone home afterward.

Once I get home, I’m ready to immediately kick off my shoes and collapse onto the couch. Carter won’t be home yet. I recall him mentioning a late interview.

“Good evening, love,” Hattie says with that cheerful smile of hers when I step off the elevator. There must be a strange look on my face because her smile falters. “Are you feeling all right, dear? You’re rather pale, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” I assure her. “Just feeling a little under the weather.”

“You mentioned that the other day, as well, didn’t you?”

“It’s just exhaustion, it’ll pass.” There’s no point in trying to explain to Hattie how my possible guilt over Carter’s firing is draining me.

Hattie doesn’t look convinced—however, she’s learned by now that it’s hard to argue with me when I’ve already made up my mind. I turn to unlock my door.

“Hang on just a moment, dear. Do you remember that I had something to tell you other day? Perhaps it does turn out to be significant after all. It’s about a woman who was here not too long ago.”

My heart in my throat, I turn back to her. “What woman?”

“Well, my dear, a couple of weeks ago, a woman turned up here. She arrived around noon, appearing somewhat perturbed when I answered the door. She claimed to have lost her way, and we had a bit of a friendly chat. She inquired about my neighbors, to which I replied that you and your husband reside here—to which she seemed a bit puzzled. Tell me, did I act correctly in divulging your marital status? I presume that is the image you wished to project to Eleanor and all others, is it not?”

Oh, no.

“What did the woman look like? Was she blonde with glasses? A couple of years older than me?”

“Ah, yes, that’s the one, my dear! That describes her exactly. A very elegant and amiable lady, I thought. Do you know who she might be, love?”

Gretchen.

Oh, no.

Even though Lexi has glasses too, both she and Jaylin have dark hair.

“Somebody from work,” I say, feeling sick to my stomach. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you later, Hattie.”

“Goodbye, love.”

Once inside the apartment, I collapse onto the couch—face down.

After ten minutes of hell, I drag myself to our bedroom. Along the way, I shed all my clothes, not caring about leaving them on the floor. My body feels like lead. I climb into bed in my nightgown, rolling myself into the comforter like a burrito.

However, as tired as I am, my brain has a tough time quieting down.

It’s my fault that Carter got fired.

I trusted Gretchen and told her we’re living in the same apartment, just next door to each other—basically a thin wall and an eyebrow raise away from “living together.” My story must have sounded so fishy she figured we were practically sharing a bed. She’d come to check. She’d informed Huxley. Huxley had had Carter fired. Once again, I’d made an error in judging someone’s character. And this time, it’s Carter who paid the price.

I feel dizzy.

What am I going to do?

I drag myself to the balcony to get some fresh air.

What will he do once he finds out? How angry will he be? Will he somehow think I did it on purpose? Kick me out?

I want to strangle the damn bastard who’s responsible for this. Those were his words.

And that damn bastard is…me. I’m responsible. I’m the one who lit the fuse. I’m the one who plunged the knife. I’m the one who pulled the trigger. Yeah, it was Huxley who seized the opportunity, but ultimately, I had placed my trust in the wrong person. Again.

Wild thoughts spin over and over in my mind as I sit there on the balcony floor, wondering what I’m going to do.

I’m the one who destroyed the future he had tirelessly worked toward for numerous years, dedicating endless nights, winning strenuous battles, and proving himself to those who doubted him.

The irony is, he had fought for me there in the boardroom. He had abandoned his dream job, ensuring I would keep mine, so that my dream of working in New York City would continue.

Nobody has ever fought for me like he had. He even fought for me when it came to Rob.

And what did I do?

I’m the reason why he can’t live his dream.

He even warned me about the gossip.

I didn’t listen.

Certainly, Carter will no longer want me to stay with him after he finds out I’ve turned his life into a shattered mess.

There’s no point in me staying.

I start to pack.