Page 4 of The Billionaires' Gamble
This woman says, ‘The more the merrier.’ Within reason, of course.
King’s eyes widen a fraction, clearly waiting for more from me. “Okay?”
“If you need my permission, you have it.” I drape a leg across his lap, scooting in as close as possible because King needs words and actions. Cupping his cheeks, I drop a soft kiss against his lips. My heart almost explodes at his stunned expression.
“It’s obvious that you two are orbiting around each other.” My heart squeezes, somehow both scared of this new dynamic and excited for the future. So I lean back in and kiss his chin, his jaw, moving down his neck. He smells so familiar: expensive and understated. Feels so warm beneath my lips.
I sink against him, and he leans into me, hands traveling up and down my back. Tucking my face against the side of his neck,I breathe him in. That feeling of rightness I’ve felt all week is still here, wrapping around me like the warmest, softest blanket.
Gabe’s hands join King’s, coasting over my hips, down my thighs, all while he kisses across my shoulders, then my neck. They’re making me breathless and needy.
“This is new for all of us, no matter how quickly we fell into things. I’d be the world’s worst hypocrite if I didn’t want you to be as fulfilled as I am.”
For a moment, we’re trapped in a blissful bubble of our own making. Feelings things out as we take—somewhat shaky—steps forward.
“You’re too good to be true, Princess.”
“I just want us all to be happy. Life’s too short to be unhappy.”
King leans back, searching my face. “You don’t get it, do you?” He shakes his head ruefully and quickly rolls his eyes. “Gah, I’m sorry. I’m so bad at this.”
He takes my hand and presses it to the center of his chest, where his heart pounds away at the strong wall of muscle.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Sensation travels up my hands, sending a deeper awareness through my body. His touch has always done that. For years, I ignored it. Pushed it down and told myself to enjoy the moment. Enjoy his friendship.
But I don’t have to do that anymore. Do I?
“It’s always been you. You’re the person I can never get out of my head. That I wake up thinking of. That I go to sleep wondering about. And that auction was the fire I needed to come back stateside and admit that. To myself and to you.”
“Damn,” Gabe whispers.
Man, when Kingston finds the words, he really finds the words.
“You’re not bad at this, man,” Gabe says. “Who told you that?”
Kingston shrugs.
“I just don’t know how all this fits.” He glances over my shoulder at Gabe. I swear I feel the current of energy coursing between them. “And I’ve never been particularly hung up on the future, so this all feels?—”
“Weird,” Gabe says sympathetically.
“What do you want it to look like? We can build our own life, King. Just like you’ve always done. You wanted out of New York, so you left. You were brave and determined and didn’t let anyone or anything stand in the way of that.”
Not even me. Not even our friendship or his feelings for me.
How hard must that have been?
I slide my hand up to the side of his throat, where his pulse taps against my palm. “So the question is, what do you want? You had the courage to come back here and face a city of elevators.”
“That felt easy, compared to this,” he grumbles.
“Really?” Gabe asks.
He’s right, given the incident on the elevator.
My phone rings, muffled by my purse, shattering the moment. We all stare over at it on the bench at the foot of the bed. The outside world is never going to stop intruding.
