The Billionaires’ Prize (The Heiress Merger #2)

9. Kingston

9

KINGSTON

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Why do I keep finding these two wrapped around each other like salt on a pretzel?

It sucks to be claustrophobic in Manhattan. Every elevator ride makes me sweat, and now this.

Katherine blinks up at me, a little crease from the pillow etched across her cheek. Her hair is wild, sticking up like a lion’s mane. Gabe is slower to rouse.

She doesn’t seem the least bit embarrassed, which is surprising. Where did my best friend go?

Not that nudity is a reason to be embarrassed. Or a good post-orgasm glow, which she definitely has.

She’s never looked prettier.

Blissed out. Well rested. Confident in her own skin.

She pushes up onto her elbow, tugging the blanket around her chest. “What time is it?”

“Time for you to get a watch,” I tease, trying to ignore the man with his arm wrapped around my girl.

More importantly, I try to ignore his naked chest and how cute he is when he’s sleep-tousled.

“Mom asked when you can come over for dinner,” I say. Maybe if I act like this situation is normal, it’ll feel normal. Here’s hoping.

With grocery bags weighing down my arms, I head for the kitchen. This part feels like a typical weekend with Katherine—easy, casual, domestic. Exactly what I wanted when I stepped onto the plane days ago.

As I’m putting everything away, she sidles into the kitchen. She put her sweatshirt and leggings on again, denying me the view I really wanted, and holds a pair of sneakers. I shut the refrigerator door and give her a long look. Her feet are bare, which I’m a total sucker for. The woman has the sexiest feet, and I’ve given her foot rubs just so I can get my hands on them.

Mentally shaking that image out of my head, I reach for the armful of veggies and open the fridge door again.

“You went shopping,” she muses, pressing against my side like there’s been no time, distance, or awkwardness between us. Like I didn’t sweep back into her life unannounced and kiss her in front of her lovers. And her brother.

My heart does a happy dance in my chest. Fuck, she’s so close. So warm and real and right-freaking-there .

“Just a few necessities.” With as much effort as I put into my body, in the gym and out, it pays to eat right.

She raises up on her toes and kisses my cheek. “Thank you.”

There’s a load of meaning in those softly spoken words, but I don’t ask for clarification. Not now. I need to see if I can do this. If we can do this. If the itch to leave is going to be stronger than my desire for her.

I want that. For her and for me. “Kat?—”

Why is it so hard to put all the feelings ping-ponging inside me into words? And then push those words past my lips?

Lucky for me, she knows me. She knows my quirks and loves me despite them. But fuck, she deserves the world. Or, at the very least, a partner who can articulate his feelings.

Is that why she likes Gabe and Alex? Can they express themselves more easily?

“I’ll check my schedule and get back to you about dinner. Are you thinking this week?”

I nod.

“Sounds good.” She backs away, her gaze lingering in a way that makes my chest tight. Then she stops, and I hold my breath. “I really am glad you’re here, King.”

God. This woman. A handful of softly spoken, completely earnest words have the power to undo me. Because I know she doesn’t trust easily. And for good reason.

I want her trust and her heart.

“Me too.”

She smiles and then steps around the peninsula. Gabe’s voice is quiet and rough, and I can’t make out exactly what he says, but I catch the word ‘upstairs.’

I bite back my snort. I thought he was headed out right after I was. So much for that.

Instead of marching in there and asking the two dozen questions peppering my brain, I focus on putting the frozen items in the freezer. Fruit in the bowl. Jerky in the pantry.

Ding.

The elevator doors open. Close. I try not to picture the reason the two of them are suddenly quiet.

I fold the paper grocery bags and try to decide my next move. I’ve never really shared her attention before. Even when she was dating, none of those men were permanent fixtures in her life.

This feels different.

Gabriel and Alex claimed her in a very public way.

They’d better mean it. Better not be fucking with her. But if they are. . .

Think positive, Saint.

For her sake.

“I’ve got some calls to make,” she says from the end of the counter. She put her shoes away and pulled her long locks into a high ponytail. “You know where everything is? Make yourself at home.”

If I did that, I’d be sleeping in her bed instead of on the couch, but rather than say that, I nod. Don’t spook her.

“Yep. I’m gonna grab a snack and hit the gym for a bit.”

“Sounds good.” Then she disappears into her home office, leaving me to work myself into a lather over the whole situation.

What would that even look like? Dating two men? Not unusual. How about three?

And all at the same time?

And when things get serious, and they seem to be getting serious fast, then what?

High society is brutal on the most normal of occasions.

I brace my hands against the polished stone countertop and stare across the living room to the skyline. A tiny little thrill races up my spine because, for the first time in a long time, I see possibilities and not obstacles. Things to be climbed, rather than box me in.

I’m serious about her. Always have been. It’s why I’ve never settled in one place for too long. It’s why no other person has turned my head the way she does.

I blow out a sigh and run my hands through my hair. Okay, first things first. Eat something. That’s half the battle. All I’ve had today is coffee. And while my mom’s coffee is the best, food is the answer.

With a protein bar and an apple in hand, I snag a bottle of water from the refrigerator and go change. The one thing that’s always kept my head on straight is exercise, so I use my key card to head down to the gym.

My phone bleeps as I step off the elevator.

Mel: lunch tomorrow?

My first instinct is to hoard every moment in case Katherine is free. But that’s silly. She has a job to go to. Do I really want to sit around waiting for her?

Yes.

Yes, I do. Any glimpse, every moment of her attention, is worth it.

Which is why I huff a sigh and type a quick reply to my sister.

Kingston: sure. noon? where at?

Then I put my phone on airplane mode and focus on working up a sweat.

An hour later, I’m back in Katherine’s apartment, head on straight.

Straighter.

Okay, I’m not spiraling.

Baby steps.

She’s not in her office, the kitchen, the dining room or camped on the couch. I check my texts. No message. There’s no note on the peninsula, either.

I’m starving.

“Hey,” I say, stalking across her apartment and tapping my knuckles against her bedroom door. It swings open a handful of inches, so I call out, “What do you want for dinner? I could eat a hippo.”

The sound of the shower is my only answer. My gut tightens, anticipation flooding me and wiping away my hunger pains.

“Kat?”

No response.

I peek my head in. The bathroom door is wide open, the mirror foggy.

Did she leave the door open on purpose? Surely not. How could she know how long I’d be?

Her sweater is a cream puddle on the floor, which is odd. I’ve been in her room and walked by dozens of times over the years, and she’s quite fastidious.

Her leggings lay just outside the bathroom door, taunting me.

Does she want me to join her?

That’s so. . . forward.

Katherine’s not forward.

Except, I’m realizing there are facets of my best friend that I’ve never seen before. Or maybe Gabe and Alex are bringing out new sides of her. Maybe they make her comfortable, which is something to think about later.

But I didn’t come all this way to sit in the corner twiddling my thumbs. I put a hand against the thick wooden panel and push it wider. Her hums greet me, along with the sound of water raining against the tile.

The room smells like her. A mix of femininity and class. Woman plus the spray she uses on her pillow.

Still not sure of my welcome, I cross to the bathroom door. Steam billows out, and the lights flanking the mirrors give the room an ethereal glow.

The shower takes up the entire far wall with two shower heads and a glass door. Beneath the spray, Katherine rinses shampoo from her hair. Through the speckled glass, I watch the bubbles snake down her torso.

Rightness settles into my chest, and the world disappears. All the second-guessing and confusion. Gone. Poof. Buh-bye.

This is exactly where I was meant to be. Here. Now. In her apartment. In her life. A vision of the future floats in front of my eyes, so real I can almost reach out and touch it.

Her. Me. Us. Coming home from a play where I got to enjoy her laugh. Her in the shower, waiting for me to join her. Washing away the day.

Back in the here and now, she turns my way, hands in her hair. Our eyes lock through the glass, and she stills. My dick twitches. There’s no surprise on her face, only longing. Welcome.

I’m pulled to her like she’s a magnet, and I’m a scrap of metal, unable to escape the force of attraction. Across the room in half a dozen steps, I kick off my shoes as I go, pluck off my socks, and then peel off my damp t-shirt.

And somewhere in that last step, as I reach for the door, the last two days fall away. It’s just me and her and all the steam.

I pull open the door. The splatter of water grows louder. Her expression shifts from welcome to worry, as if she’s afraid I’ll judge her. Or worse.

There’s no way.

Feet bare, I step beneath the spray and reach for her.

Warm and wet, she curls around me.

“Is this real?” I murmur into her hair.

She nods. “Yes.” Then she tips her head back, looking up at me as if she, too, is trying to get her bearings. Double checking to make sure that I’m not a figment of her imagination.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, echoing her apology from earlier.

Standing between the two shower heads, I cup her cheeks in my hands and make her meet my gaze. Her skin is flushed, her hair a deeper gold and dang if she’s not the most enticing woman I’ve ever met.

I want to drop to my knees and worship her. Beg her to keep me. Apologize a thousand times for walking away from her.

“For what?”

She shakes her head and then leans into my touch. “You keep finding me. . .” Her hand lifts and sweeps up and down the length of her body.

“Naked,” I supply.

She nods.

“I don’t mind that in the slightest, Wildfire.” In fact, having her naked in my arms is a dream come true.

“But with Gabe. . .” she trails off. But then her lips curve up. “Why do you call me that?”

I tug on her hair. “Because you remind me of a wildfire. Partly because of your hair, but mostly because you swept into my life with such amazing force.”

A slow grin turns her lips up. But then, as quick as it appeared, it falls away. Her fingers hike up the muscles of my chest, clinging to my shoulders. “What are we going to do, King?”