Billion Dollar Enemy (Seattle Billionaires Book 1)

Blair has her hands on her hips. “You were on kiss cam for the whole arena to see, but you won’t tell your own sister who it was?”

I groan, leaning against the wall in my hallway. “How did you even find out about this?”

“It was shared on Facebook.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope.” She shakes her head, golden locks flying. “The caption nearly made me gag, though. Who is eligible bachelor Cole Porter smooching? Ew.”

“You’re friends with people who’d share something like that?”

“We’re not turning this around on me.” My sister peers around the corner, clearly itching to be invited in. “Is this the same girl you had to rush off to see two weeks ago?”

“Yes. And—how many times do I have to say this—it’s not something I want to talk about.”

“Come on, Cole. I had to see this on the news!”

“Facebook isn’t news. Not yet, anyway.”

“Not to mention I haven’t seen you around in ages.” She drops her purse on the hallway table, already reaching for the clasp of her jacket.

Damn it. Any other day she’d be welcome, but on this beautiful Sunday morning, I happen to have a guest.

The kiss cam participant, as it turns out.

“That’s not true,” I protest. “We played tennis last weekend, and had brunch.”

“Nick was there.”

“So?”

She wrinkles her nose, and I sigh, knowing the dislike between Nick and Blair runs both ways. Why they don’t get along is beyond me.

“Fine, don’t answer that. But Blair, I can’t hang out right now. This afternoon? Let’s call Mom and take her out to dinner.”

“Don’t deflect. I know your ways, Cole. Let’s talk about this.” She tugs off her jacket and hangs it on a peg, her blonde hair newly cut to shoulder-length. Blair changes like the wind. “Since you’re being so cagey about it, is it serious? That would be a first after Elena.”

I scowl at the mention of my ex’s name, especially with Skye right around the corner. “Blair, please leave.”

“Okay, okay,” she says, starting down the hallway to the kitchen. “Let me just get a glass of water first and I’ll be— Oh. Hello there!”

Skye is sitting by the kitchen island with a bowl of cereal. She gives a small wave, glancing down at herself. “Hi there! Sorry for…” She sweeps a hand over herself, my button-down nearly drowning her. A beautiful flush is climbing up her neck.

“No, no, I’m the intruder,” my sister chirps. “Now I understand why Cole wanted me out of here as soon as possible.”

Skye’s eyes flick to me with curiosity. “Blair, this is Skye. Skye, meet Blair. My sister,” I sigh. “My very nosy sister.”

Blair laughs, unfazed by the critique. “That’s me, always with my nose in his life. It’s really nice to meet you, Skye.”

Skye stands to extend a hand to my sister. My shirt reaches her mid-thigh, but she still tugs it down. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too. Oh, the questions I have for you!”

Blair grins with delight. “You do?”

“Definitely. Like, does your brother have an aversion to fridge magnets?”

I groan again. “This is not happening right now. Blair, I’ll call you later.”

“But I just arrived!”

“Nope. Elevator is that way.” She gives me a pout, but I’m relentless, and eventually she shakes her head at Skye.

“He’s always been this bossy. I’m sure that was another of your questions.”

Skye nods, her smile echoing Blair’s. “My very next one.”

“It was really nice to meet you. Until next time!” Her voice trails off as we walk down the hallway. Stepping into the elevator, she gives me two thumbs-up and a mouthed she seems nice!

I shake my head at her as the doors close. The last thing I need is the cheerleader-like support from my little sister, especially when Skye and I are… well. Casual.

She’s still eating cereal when I return, a smile playing on her lips.

“Really sorry about that,” I say.

“Don’t be. She was amazing.”

The surprise on my face must be evident, because Skye laughs. “As long as you don’t tell her that I work in the bookstore, then no harm’s done, right?

“Right.”

Skye slides off the chair and pads to the sink on bare feet, putting her empty bowl down. “Besides, I kind of feel like we’re even now.”

“Even?”

“You’ve met a member of my family. I’ve met a member of yours.”

I rub my neck. “I suppose that’s true, yeah.”

She leans against the kitchen counter, her hands braced behind her. “Thanks for the game last night,” she says. With her hair still mussed from bed, my shirt folded up to her elbows, she looks gorgeous. “Whatever else is going on, whatever happens with Between the Pages, thanks for that. You made Timmy incredibly happy.”

I lean against the kitchen island. “He’s a good kid.”

“He really is, and he has a serious case of hero worship going on right now.”

I grin. “And I’m the chosen object?”

“Oh, yes. My sister has already texted me twice to ask about my ‘boyfriend,’” she says, adding air quotes.

“I told him I wasn’t.”

“Yes, well, then we kissed in front of him. I think he’s drawn his own conclusions.”

I snort. “Smart kid. Sorry about your sister, though. I know all about nosy siblings.”

She turns around, turning the faucet on to wash the dishes. “Yeah.”

“Are you two close?”

A long pause, the only sound that of running water. “Yes and no,” she says finally. “She’s a difficult one, to be honest.”

“Older?”

“Yeah, by five years, but she’s always acted as the youngest. A bit wild. Timmy’s father isn’t in the picture, and never was. I think that’s why he took to you so quickly.” She holds up a sudsy finger my way. “You’re like the epitome of masculinity, something he’s in short supply of, being raised by a single mother, his aunt, and his grandmother.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Did you just call me the epitome of masculinity?”

“Yeah.” Her cheeks color beautifully. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Oh, I’ll be dead of shock before that happens.” I reach for the towel, drying off her clean bowl. “Tell me more about your sister.”

“She often has new boyfriends. They’re all nice, but they filter in and out, you know. And she’s just like our mother—every new hobby has to be pursued. Her current boyfriend likes cars, so she’s suddenly become a car maniac. Goes to shows out of town all the time.”

“And you babysit Timmy.”

She nods. “My mom and I split it.”

Her nephew. Her family. The bookstore. Everything she does, it seems to be for other people, or for a purpose. For Karli and Timmy.

I press a kiss to her neck and her eyes flutter closed. “How’s your writing going?”

“Mmm. Good.” Her hand grips mine, guiding it to her waist. “Much better than it has in a long while, actually.”

“Inspired by me?”

Her laughter is soft. “Maybe.”

“I’m flattered.” I kiss my way up to her ear. “Look at us being civil. Isn’t it nice when we have a truce?”

She wiggles against me, her butt round and soft and enticing. “Yes,” she says. “But don’t worry. I’m being nice to you because I know we’ll win.”

“Oh, you will?”

“Yes. We have more customers daily. Sales are increasing. Our accountant basically confirmed it, you know.”

I tip her head back, her neck soft and fragile under my hand. She sighs as my lips trail up and down. “Good,” I say, my hand running down to the hem of her shirt. Her thigh is silky-smooth.

“Good? I thought you wanted to win.”

“Mmm, I do. But the next best thing is you winning.”

Her smile is massive as she turns in my arms, backing me against the kitchen counter. Beneath my button-up, I know for a fact she’s only wearing panties.

“Charmer.”

“Another compliment?”

“Don’t get spoiled.”

I lift her up onto the kitchen island, her surprised laughter raining down on me. “Spoiled, me? Never.”

She opens her legs so I can fit between them, my hands resting on her hips. “Was that the first time you’ve dried a dish in your own kitchen?”

“Maybe,” I say. “Is that another strike against me?”

“Maybe,” she echoes, running a hand up my arms. “The swim team, huh?”

“You remembered.”

“Of course. Do you still swim? You look like you do.”

“Every morning,” I say.

She wraps her hands around my neck. “Except today.”

“Except today,” I agree. “I had better things to do.”

I lean in and kiss her, and she kisses me back, warm and sweet. Her hands find their way into my hair, tugging in that way that sends shivers racing down my back. Before long my hands move of their own accord and pull at the buttons of her shirt.

She laughs against my lips. “So eager,” she murmurs, her laughter turning into a gasp when I pinch one of her nipples. After she’d told me none of her previous lovers had given them enough attention, I’d made sure to redouble mine.

Her hands tug off my T-shirt. My tongue finds hers. It’s a dance we’ve done nearly a dozen times now, and still, every time leaves me hard and aching. She’s irresistible.

“Sorry for staying the night,” she murmurs. “I fell asleep last night after we… well.” She breaks off, biting her lip, and I grin at her. We’d tried her bathtub fantasy in my master bath, the tub large enough for me to fuck her underwater. She’d been slick like oil after the first two orgasms. The memory, combined with her naked and ready before me, makes it hard to think.

“Do I look like I’m complaining?”

She grins, shrugging off her shirt. “No.”

I slide her panties to the side and find her warm and wet. “Yes,” I murmur. “You’re always ready for me.”

She presses eager lips against mine, scooting to the edge of the kitchen island. “Like this?”

“Fuck yes.” I tug off her underwear. In broad daylight she’s gorgeous, pink and sweet and slick. She pulls at the tie of my slacks, pushing them, her movements jerky.

“This casual thing is getting complicated, huh?”

I can only agree. When this began, I had no plans to send her gifts, not to mention hang out with her nephew. Maybe we should talk about that. Set new ground rules.

But then again, she’s beautiful and naked in front of me and her hands are stroking and then I’m spreading her legs wide. “That’s fine,” I say, my hands running up her inner thighs. “Completely fine. Still casual.”

Skye nods, a breathy moan escaping her when I run the head of my hardness along her. “It’s casual because we say it’s casual,” she says.

“Exactly. You’re not falling in love with me, are you?”

Her chest is heaving. “No, don’t worry. I still hate you.”

“Good,” I say, pushing forward. “We’re good.”

That’s a lie, because she’s fucking fantastic. I bury myself inside, and she grips me back, hot and slick and tight. I should tell her that but words refuse to form. My body is moving on instinct, fucking her on the kitchen island, both of us watching where we join.

It’s over almost as soon as it began. My hand is circling, moving over her clit the way I know she likes, both of us exploding. It’s her moans that bring me over the edge, soft and breathless and entirely real.

“Fucking hell.”

Skye lies back on the kitchen island, her body limp. Her breasts rise and fall with her heavy breathing. “You could be the worst person in the world,” she says faintly, “and I’d still come back for more of that.”

My hands tighten on her hips. “So I’m not the worst person in the world. It’s a small upgrade, but I’ll take it.”

She smiles up at the ceiling. “So many compliments today. You really are fucking the good sense right out of me.”

“I aim to please.” Wincing slightly, I pull out of her heat. “Damn. We didn’t use a condom.”

She rises on her elbows. “I’m on the pill.”

“I have regular health checkups,” I say. “I’d be happy to give you a copy of my latest clean bill.”

She blinks at me. “Wow.”

“What?”

“That just sounds very experienced. I got checked last September,” she says, that beautiful blush spreading over her cheeks again. “Haven’t had sex without a condom since.”

Her blush makes me think she hasn’t had sex with one since then either. Something in my chest constricts, and I pull her up into sitting, kissing her again. “Then we’re good.”

She kisses me back. “I’m glad I spent the night when this is what I wake up to.”

“Me too.”

Her hand slips into mine, and then she’s pulling me toward my master bathroom again, a glint in her eyes. “Come on. We need to shower.”

“Do we?”

“Yes,” she says, and then I’m lifting her up, her naked body warm against mine. It’s one of the longest showers I’ve ever taken.

Skye leaves early afternoon. Her hair is half-dried and braided down her back, her cheeks flushed with exertion. She kisses me in the hallway.

It’s a sweet kiss, her arms twined around my neck. “Bye,” she murmurs.

“Bye,” I murmur back, watching her as she retreats into the elevator, a smile on her lips as the doors shut.

When she’s gone from view, I lean against the wall and close my eyes.

This is getting out of control, slipping out of my grasp, a lot faster than I had anticipated. A dangerous suggestion had hovered on my tongue and I’d had to force it down. Stay for lunch. Spend the day with me.

What would we do? Read books? Watch TV? Go for a walk?

Casual, Porter. She wanted casual, and so did you. She still hates me—she says so regularly. The feeling isn’t exactly mutual, but I know we have a deadline. The only hope I have of continuing to see her, and having the best sex of my life, is for the bookstore to succeed.

Which means I have incentive to work against my own best business interests.

“Fucking hell,” I say, leaning my head against the wall. I’m thirty-four. I’ve had my share of relationships, both longer and shorter. Yet somehow, Skye Holland has gotten me to consider betraying my own ambition, the one thing that had always served as a guiding star in my life.

And damn it if that doesn’t scare me.