Page 11 of Spring Break with a Billionaire

I lead her out onto the deck, watching her expression brighten in delight as she sees the candlelit table. “Oh, Cameron, this is beautiful!”

“I wanted it to be special,” I say quietly, guiding her gently to a chair. “You deserve it.”

Her cheeks flush deeper, eyes full of quiet emotion as she sits. “You’re spoiling me.”

“You deserve it,” I repeat softly, pouring her a glass of crisp white wine. She takes a sip, sighing contentedly, visibly relaxing.

Dinner flows easily between us, filled with comfortable conversation and shared laughter. Cricket’s laughter is infectious, her eyes brightening beautifully with every story she tells. I’m drawn in deeper by every detail of her life she reveals—her passion for teaching, her close-knit family, her love for travel and adventure.

As the sky deepens into a rich indigo, stars twinkling gently overhead, our conversation drifts toward more intimate subjects.

“Have you always wanted to teach?” I ask gently, genuinely curious about the passion that lights her eyes every time she talks about her students.

She nods, thoughtful. “I always felt a pull toward education, even as a child. Something is amazing about guiding young minds, seeing them discover and grow.”

“It’s clear how much you care,” I say quietly, feeling warmth bloom in my chest. “Your students are lucky.”

“I hope so,” she whispers, smiling shyly. “What about you? Did you always know what you wanted to do?”

“Honestly? No,” I admit softly, swirling the wine thoughtfully. “Business came naturally, and I had a young child to support. I wasn’t a success overnight. It happened gradually, until I found myself at the top.”

“Did you enjoy it?” she asks gently, sensing the complexity in my words.

“At times,” I admit honestly. “But there were sacrifices—relationships, happiness, peace of mind. It’s easy to lose yourself chasing success. I’m only now realizing what I gave up in pursuit of it. I hate that I might have missed things with Natalie. I always thought I was a good dad, but now I’m not so sure.”

“From what I’ve seen, Natalie adores you. You deserve happiness,” she murmurs, eyes sincere, full of quiet understanding.

“I’m starting to believe that,” I whisper, holding her gaze gently. “And I think you’re helping me realize it.”

She blushes again, shy but pleased, the candlelight dancing softly in her eyes. Our conversation continues naturally, deepening the intimacy growing steadily between us.

When dinner ends, I rise and extend my hand across the candlelit table. “Would you like to dance?”

“I’d love that,” she says, her voice warm and low, slipping her hand into mine like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Our fingers lace together easily, her touch soft but electric, sparking a familiar heat low in my gut.

I lead her across the deck, the wood warm beneath our bare feet, the ocean stretching dark and endless just beyond the rail. The soft glow of string lights bathes us in a golden shimmer, and the hum of music playing low from inside drifts into the night air. I pull her gently into my arms, her body fitting against mine like we’ve done this a hundred times before.

We begin to sway, slowly, her head resting lightly against my chest. I press a kiss to the top of her hair, breathing her in—coconut, salt, and something distinctlyher. She looks up after a moment, her eyes shining in the soft light, and the way she gazes at me makes the air between us crackle.

I brush her hair back, fingers lingering along her jaw, and cup her cheek. “I’m glad you’re here,” I whisper, meaning every word.

She presses her palm to my chest, right over my heart. “Me too,” she breathes.

I dip my head, capturing her mouth in a slow, lingering kiss that deepens as she rises onto her toes. Her lips are soft, eager, and addictive. Her arms wind around my neck, pulling me closer, and I respond instinctively, pressing her against me, one hand splayed at her lower back, the other tangling in her hair. The world narrows to nothing but the feel of her mouth on mine, the way her body moves with mine as we sway, kissing like we’re the only two people left in the world.

She gasps softly when I break away just enough to trail kisses down her jaw, then back to her mouth, unable to stay away for long. I kiss her again, deeper this time, tasting her desire. She moans quietly against my lips, and it nearly undoes me.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the first night we met,” I murmur, my voice low and rough as my forehead rests against hers.

“Me too,” she whispers, her smile dazed and beautiful, her fingers tracing circles on the back of my neck.

We keep dancing, bodies pressed close, mouths meeting again and again—slow, lingering kisses that turn hungry in waves. There’s no rush. Just us. The warm deck beneath our feet, the stars above, and this slow, perfect unraveling of restraint between us.

* * *

Cricket

My heart still races gently as Cameron walks me home, our fingers entwined tightly. The memory of our kiss burns warmly on my lips, his tenderness and passion leaving me shaken in the best possible way.

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