Page 406 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Rick

"Who the fuck do you think he is?" I bend my knees and peer into her eyes.

She flinches. "I-I don’t know."

"Why are you stuttering?" I lower my voice to a hush, and she shivers.

"I-I’m not."

"Lying, Goldie?" I lean into her space, so my chest is pressed into hers, and she shudders. The pulse at the base of her neck kicks up, and damn, but I can’t stop myself.

I lower my head and close my mouth around the skin where her blood pounds in her veins.

She whimpers, and the blood drains to my groin.

I nibble my way around the base of her throat, then release her, only to curl my fingers around her neck.

I squeeze, and her gaze widens. Her chest rises and falls.

The scent of her arousal bleeds into the air, and my balls tighten.

"My hand-necklace looks so fucking good on you.

" With my free hand, I grasp her butt and lift. She gasps, then locks her ankles around my waist and clings to my shoulders. She raises her chin, but I evade her lips. "I’ll kiss you when I’m good and ready," I growl.

She pouts. "Why can’t I initiate a kiss?"

"Because you’re a brat who needs to learn how to earn what she wants."

"But—" she begins to whine, and I narrow my gaze on her.

"Keep that up, and I won’t be doing anything else, either."

"Like I want you to—" She groans, for I’ve pushed my crotch into its happy place, also known as, in the cradle between her legs.

My dick instantly lengthens, and I know she can feel it stab into her center, for color flushes her cheeks.

She begins to grind down on my cock, and her breathing grows choppy.

Her eyes are dilated, her lips parted, and all I want is to remove the barriers of our clothing and push into her…

Like that douchecanoe wanted to do. If I hadn’t arrived there in time— The blood pounds through my veins. My guts churn. Asshole deserves to die. If only I didn’t have to wait until the team makes it to the finals of the league before I have my revenge.

And meanwhile, you’re going to string her along? And allow your feelings for her to deepen. Allow her to fall in love with you, too? How much of a sadist can you possibly be? How can you do this to her?

She looks into my face, and a furrow appears between her eyebrows. "What’s wrong?"

I draw in a sharp breath. Since when have I unable to keep my feelings to myself? Since when have I begun showing what I felt inside on my face? Since when has she read me so well?

"Rick?" She cups my cheek in a gesture that’s so familiar, so heartfelt, so everything. A line of sensations runs from where she’s touching me to my chest. My heart falters.

My scalp tingles. The words I want to speak die in my throat.

I spread my fingers so they cover the sweet column of her neck, and all I can think is, she’s mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

"Rick? Baby?" A flash of panic ignites in her eyes. "Rick, talk to me."

I open my mouth to tell her the real reason I asked her to share a room with me the day she arrived at the house, when my phone buzzes in the back pocket of my jeans. I ignore it, lower my chin until my mouth is over hers, and draw in her sweet breath. The phone stops, then starts again.

"Aren’t you going to get that?" She asks in a breathless voice.

I blink.

"Rick, it might be your grandmother."

Fuck, she’s right. How could I have forgotten Grams’ condition? I pin her to the wall with my hips, pull out my phone and answer. The voice on the other side echoes through my head. When I lower the phone, she takes in the look on my face, and her expression changes to one of sympathy.

"She’s going to be okay." Goldie places her hand on my shoulder, but I shrug it off. If anything happens to Grams, I’ll never forgive myself. She’s my only surviving relation. I should have checked in on her more.

I called her to tell her I was getting married, and she was elated.

She promised to set the date for the procedure with the surgeon.

I didn’t follow up after that. I was too caught up with preparing for the game, and my mind was too full of Goldie and my changing feelings for her.

I was selfish again. I didn’t make time for Grams, just like I wasn't there for Diana when she needed me most. If I hadn’t been busy pursuing my career as an NHL player, I’d have been able to be there for my sister.

After our parents' deaths, Diana was everything to me. Grams brought us both up, but she was never able to control Diana. She only listened to me. When I got the opportunity to play for the NHL, I didn’t want to go, but Grams convinced me.

She told me my parents would have wanted it.

That if I didn’t follow my passion, I’d regret it.

I didn’t want to listen to her, until Diana found out.

She was seventeen then but mature enough to insist I follow my dream.

I promised I’d always be there for her, no matter how busy I was.

But, NHL commitments meant there was no way I could fly back to see her as often as I wanted.

In fact, I only managed to get away for Christmas each year.

Whenever I made it back home, things were strained between Diana and my grandmother, but I didn't realize how bad things were.

Not until Grams called to tell me Diana had moved to L.A.

to launch her career as a director. Even then, I wasn't alarmed. Diana had always been stubborn; she’d always known her mind, and had been mature for her years.

Even though she and Grams didn’t often see eye-to-eye, they loved each other.

I kept in touch with Diana by phone, calling her every week, and she kept me updated on her progress.

Things were tough. She was pitching her script and waitressing to pay her bills, but she never lost faith in her talent.

Neither did I. I was convinced she’d make it as a director.

She was talented and beautiful. Then the calls stopped.

I wasn’t able to get hold of her. I hadn’t been particularly alarmed.

I hadn’t time to be alarmed, I had entered a particularly challenging phase of my career, and all my mind-space was taken up with making it in the NHL. Then the call came.

"Rick?" Goldie’s voice cuts through my thoughts. "Dr. Kincaid’s here."

I glance up to find a man in scrubs walking toward me.

His features are tired, but his gaze is bright, and that gives me hope.

I rise to my feet; so does Goldie. She takes my hand, and this time, I let her.

He stops in front of us, then his face curves in a smile.

"I’m Dr. Weston Kincaid. Your grandmother is doing well. "

I blow out a breath. "How long will the recovery be?"

He turns serious. "I won’t lie. She’s at an age where it will take her time to recover from the effects of the operation, but she’s a strong woman and a fighter.

I’d told her to not delay the operation.

Her heart was weakening every day, but the woman was stubborn.

If she’d agreed to the operation earlier, it wouldn't have come to this. " He shakes his head.

Guilt twists my guts. My stomach churns, and bile boils up my throat.

I’m responsible for Grams’ condition. I should have set a date for the wedding and insisted that Goldie go through with it.

That way, Grams would have gone through with the procedure before she collapsed.

I curl my fingers into a fist at my side.

I tighten my hand around Goldie's, and sensing the tension emanating from me, she stiffens.

Neither of us says anything.

Dr. Kincaid looks at the engagement ring on her finger, then back up at me. His feature soften. "She’s a tough one. I'm confident she’ll be back on her feet soon."

A shudder of relief grips me. My knees buckle, I sway, and Goldie wraps her arm about my waist to steady me.

For a second, I lean my weight on her. I realize again, she’s not fragile as she seems. For the first time in my life, I’ve depended on someone else.

But why does it have to be her? I put distance between us, so she has to lower her hand.

I sense the hurt on her face, but I don’t look at her.

"Can we see her?"

"She’s still in recovery and will likely be sleeping off the after-effects of the anesthesia. I suggest you go home and do the same. You can come tomorrow morning, by which time, she should be awake."

When I hesitate, Dr. Kincaid turns to Goldie. "Take your man home. Both of you seem ready to drop." He nods in my direction. "You’re no good to her if you run yourself into the ground."

He turns to leave, then stops. "She was asking for Tiny when she was brought in. Who’s he?"