Bedding the Billionaire

Sutton

I snuck surreptitious gazes at Mr. Williams in the moonlight as we approached the trailer. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, the man was drop dead gorgeous. I liked the fancy way he talked and the air of superiority that radiated from his body. I especially liked the five o’clock shadow on his jaw that I had a feeling most people never got to see.

Everything about Mark Williams was precision and purpose. I wondered what it would be like to have that kind of focus and determination trained on me. My body to be specific.

I climbed the steps of my childhood home with Mark close on my heels. I pushed the door open and dropped my bag near the door. It was dark inside, and the trailer wasn’t very big. But I was used to navigating through the hodgepodge of furniture.

“Why isn’t your home locked?” he asked, his tone laced with disapproval.

I tried to ignore the way that his body heat could be felt despite the fact that we weren’t touching. I let out a tired sigh as I answered his question, “Mr. Williams, everyone who is anyone knows this is where I live. Look around you. Do you honestly think there is anything someone would want to steal?”

His eyes never left my face as he replied, “Yes, Miss Landry, I do.”

Fuck me twice and call me done, color mounted in my cheeks.

“I am not flirting with you, Miss Landry. I am stating facts. Beautiful women should not live in homes that do not have proper protection.”

“You think I am beautiful?” I had the feeling that this wasn’t what he wanted me to get from his statement. But I had sure liked hearing it from his lips.

Those same lips compressed into a straight line. “Miss Landry.”

“Mr. Williams,” I countered saucily.

From the flare in his eyes I could see that my quip hit it’s mark. I knew that I was pushing his buttons, but the man was too scrumptious not to goad. I couldn’t wait to see what happened when he blew his top or, better yet, blew mine.

“Miss Landry,” he began again, taking a deep breath. “I cannot in good conscience leave you here without being assured of your safety.”

“I am a grown woman, Mr. Williams,” I said, sighing. “I can handle anything that comes my way. So, if you don’t mind, I am tired, and you have bed bugs to go find at the motel.”

In the next moment, I found myself being pressed up against the counter in my tiny kitchen, his masculine scent of leather and spice enveloping me as I struggled against his iron grip.

“You were saying, Miss Landry?” His lips brushed the curve of my ear. I felt my core clench with desire. This wasn’t supposed to be happening! I thought I had the upper hand.

I struggled to free my arms, but his grip on my wrists tightened. Bringing my knee up, I attempted to slam it into the family jewels, but Mr. Williams trapped my leg with his muscular thighs. My chest was pressed tight against his expensive suit coat.

“Let me go!”

breathing hard, the bastard.

you know that

was the last person that should be calling someone a

your point, Mr. Williams. Let

think he would. However, he flung me away from him as quickly as he had gathered me to

let’s

nerve thinking I will put you up for the night. I don’t care whatever I said before. Get out.”

he admonished. “You will need to

are on my last fucking nerve. You are not getting lucky tonight. So, you can just figure something else out. I am not that kind of girl!”

was a part of me that knew I was most certainly that kind of girl if he was on the offering end, I told myself to shut the hell up!

have not had a moment’s luck in weeks, Miss Landry. I will be staying here

wincing when I heard the disappointment in my voice. I swear I saw his lips twitch. Damn

be delighted,”

replaced the light bulb, but it hadn’t mattered as much

light in my old bedroom and nearly jumped out of my skin when someone shrieked

had no idea where he had

Mr. Williams’ arm and tried to ignore

word was an icy blast of anger. Mr. Williams didn’t lower his

eighty and was ninety pounds soaking wet; he

erm,” I searched for the right word. An acquaintance, Nuisance, Pain in

am family!” Earl’s whiskey stained voice protested. “I don’t know who you are, but Sutton always lets me stay when Martha is having one of her

that had wormed his way into my heart.

“What did you do to your wife?” I almost hesitated

“I am telling you, Sutton, not a damn thing! I have been the picture of perfection to that woman, and she

drink the sacramental wine again, did you?” I asked pointedly.

sacramental wine. The thing is that Martha and Earl were the caretakers of the local church. But Earl tended to have poker games

pouted, “I came across some extra funds and spent them at the tables. How was I to know Father had forgotten the

“Earl!”

use arguing. Earl was who he was, and Martha would

the closet to pull down an extra one.

let him stay here,” Mr. Williams said with authority.

I had forgotten about him, damn