The Grey Billionaire Series: Secrets and Lies

Chris Lannister doesn’t frequent the bustling city often. However, the accumulation of meetings over the past few months has drawn him out of his seclusion and into the heart of Lannister Industries.

His sister, Camille, has always been the one to handle clients and investors. Chris, on the other hand, has thrived in the background as an honorary board member, a role he’s always preferred.

But with Camille now engrossed in her own projects, Chris finds himself managing all aspects of Lannister Industries alone.

Their father, C. Lannister Senior, retired a few years back, leaving the company to his children. Camille sought fame and opportunity, while Chris, or CJ as he’s known, preferred a quieter, more private life.

Despite his preference for privacy, people still recognize him. Not as many as Camille, but his green eyes, handsome face, and unique sleeve of tattoos are hard to miss.

Room service rings at his door. He purchased the apartment two years ago as a vacation spot and struck a deal with the restaurant owner downstairs. They provide him with food whenever he visits, and he endorses their restaurant on his social media.

The doorbell doesn’t rouse him. He’s already awake, unable to sleep knowing Reece is just an arm’s length away.

He spent half the night worrying he might accidentally cuddle her and the other half battling an erection brought on by her soft sleep-induced moans.

He slips out of bed and tiptoes to the living room. After tipping the attendant, he quickly uncovers the food trays and snaps several pictures for his social media profiles.

He covers the trays again, leaves his phone on the sofa, and heads back to the bedroom.

He doesn’t expect her to be awake. But to his surprise, she’s already up and in the bathroom.

“Everything okay in there?” he calls out to check on her.

“Yeah, just brushing my teeth!” Reece’s voice carries clearly to him.

Chris takes this opportunity to check his own breath. He’s always been puzzled by how he can spend ten minutes brushing his teeth at night, only to wake up with questionable breath in the morning. It’s a mystery, but he takes comfort in knowing it happens to everyone.

He reaches into his bedside table, pulls out an extra toothbrush, and knocks on the bathroom door.

The apartment only has one bathroom and one bedroom. The living room and kitchen are spacious, but the furniture isn’t comfortable enough for sleepovers. Luckily, Reece doesn’t mind sharing the bed with him.

When he invited Reece to accompany him to New York, he didn’t consider the accommodation. Maybe, just maybe, he secretly wanted it this way.

When she agreed, he felt hopeful. Hopeful, even though he knew he shouldn’t be. Nothing can happen between them. It wouldn’t work. He has someone else in his heart, and he doesn’t want to drag Reece into his complicated life. He respects her too much for that.

“Can I come in?” he asks after knocking.

The lock clicks and the door swings open.

“Thanks,” he says as he steps into the bathroom.

She’s at one of the sinks, brushing her teeth. Her nightgown clings to her body, the hem resting at her ankles. The material hugs her pierced nipples. He tries to keep his gaze averted so he doesn’t stare too hungrily.

CJ uses the other sink, brushing his teeth a bit longer than usual. He occasionally glances in the mirror at the beautiful woman next to him. He realizes he’s been brushing too long when she suddenly appears fully dressed and ready for the day.

Reece starts eating breakfast while Chris showers. He takes longer than usual, zoning out every time he remembers she’s in his private space.

The trip to Paris a few months ago was impulsive and pointless. He had no business there, other than to see her. To see what she was doing and to ensure she was okay. He wonders if she knew he wasn’t there for work.

She was too busy with the store’s merchandise to have figured it out.

With that thought, he exhales.

Finally dressed in a suit, which he detests, he joins her at the breakfast table.

Reece has finished eating and is now responding to emails on her phone. She goes through the new online orders one by one, a proud smile spreading across her face.

Chris feels a pang of jealousy, knowing her attention is elsewhere. Since when did he care about a woman’s job duties and responsibilities? Let alone feel the urge to demand her attention? The thought is absurd.

Frustration seems to be the only emotion he can muster these days. He tries to recall the last time he had sex with someone and is embarrassed to admit that he can’t remember who or when it was.

Over the past few months, he’s been focused on the store opening. It’s been mostly successful, with very few failures. So much money has been made that Reece has already written him a check to buy his portion of the business. A portion he had secretly signed over to her months ago but hasn’t found the words to tell her yet.

He owns the multi-acre lot the store is built on. The area has other buildings, shops, and even a fancy restaurant, but none are as profitable as Reece’s store.

She looked so proud when she wrote the check to pay him back. So happy to be successful on her first try at something like this. Proud to do it all on her own.

Instead of telling her the truth, he pockets the check and signs the documents again. She seems happy to be the full owner on her own merit. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her he had already given her his share with no strings attached.

Maybe this was for the best. He had given her his share, but she unknowingly returned it. Somehow, he thought things might have ended this way regardless of his admissions.

“Can I ask you something?” he musters the courage to start a conversation.

Reece looks up from her phone to meet his gaze.

“What if I were to tear up the check you gave me and just give you my share of the business, no strings attached? Would you be okay with that?” he asks, genuinely curious.

He never intended to help her in the first place, but somehow, he got caught up in it all and couldn’t avoid it anymore. Or maybe he’s just become the kind of Lannister who hands out money to people he hardly knows.

He’s not that type at all. He’s avoided every charity auction held each year. So, he knows for a fact that he didn’t help her just because it’s the norm for him, or the right thing to do. The reason behind his decision to invest millions of dollars remains a mystery.

Reece glares at him.

“I don’t want you to do anything for me. Paying you back with interest was the plan all along. Why would you even ask me some stupid shit like that?” Her honesty is blunt.

Sometimes he wishes she could lie, just once.

“Maybe I thought you’d appreciate not having to pay me back. I would’ve still signed the documents so you’d have full ownership anyway. It’s not a big deal.” The moment the words leave his lips, he regrets them.

“It’s a big fucking deal to me!” she shouts.

“You have no idea what I’ve been through to get here, what I sacrificed, all the shit I had to put up with and all the things I had to do to save the money I needed for the store, and the merchandise to go in it. You have no idea where I’m coming from or what I had to endure to make this dream into a reality. Connections don’t just fall from the fucking sky. You were born into luxury and automatic success. I had to claw my way from the dumpsters to where I am today.” She’s panting heavily when she finishes.

CJ stares at her in shock. She’s never yelled at him before. He doesn’t understand what’s so wrong about helping a friend.

He has friends.

Rich friends he grew up with, guys and girls. His best friend Charlotte is a supermodel and an heiress to her family’s fortune. He has friends with connections and friends with so much money that even their children’s children will never experience a life of poverty.

He’s clueless about her, beyond the fact that she’s Draya’s best friend and the owner of a high-end store.

In all fairness, she’s equally in the dark about him. He has his own secrets, ones that he hopes to keep hidden from the world.

“Listen,” she says, her voice soft. “I’m sorry I shouted at you,” she apologizes sincerely.

“I just get really touchy about certain things. Two things can set me off quicker than a bullet, Chris. Draya and my businesses. I can’t stand anyone messing with my best friend or my money. I can’t take free money from you. I’ve already paid you back with interest. Just cash the check and let’s move on. I bought a house a few weeks ago as an investment property. Are you going to ask me to sell it to you so you can give it back to me for free?”

Her sarcasm should be offensive, but he laughs to lighten the mood.

After hearing her out, he realizes the absurdity of giving millions to someone, having them pay it back with interest, then returning the money and signing over the investment just because. If his parents or even his sister knew he’d considered this, they’d never let him forget it.

Maybe for a husband and wife swapping assets it wouldn’t be a big deal, or siblings trading off, but Reece isn’t his sister, his wife, or even his girlfriend. He’s starting to see the questionable decision he almost made.

He doesn’t feel regret, though. Even after hearing everything she said, he still wants to give the money back to her. He still wants to help her, even if he doesn’t understand why.

Whatever he’s been smoking over the past few months must still be affecting him.

Deciding to agree with her, he reluctantly digs into his omelet and eats in silence.

The first three meetings of the day drag on longer than he expected. The men in the conference room spend half the time ogling Reece. Her magazine covers have been published nationwide; Sports Illustrated is the main attraction, but she also has a three-page spread in a fashion magazine.

The businesswomen at the table spend the other half of the time asking for exclusive release dates on Reece’s heels.

Chris mostly rolls his eyes at the men.

“This is a fucking workplace, not a damn speed dating party!” His outburst brings everyone back to reality.

Reece shoves all the business cards and numbers she’s received into her purse. She isn’t scared by Chris’s outburst. Instead, her nipples seem to harden instantly at the sound of his voice.

She buttons her jacket and stands up. Several men rise with her out of respect before she excuses herself.

“Where are you going?” CJ practically growls possessively. Even though his subconscious is telling him to stop, he’s past caring.

“The bathroom, Mr. Caveman. Relax.” She laughs on her way to the door. “Finish up here. I’ll wait for you downstairs,” she tells him with a cheerful smile.

In the marble-tiled bathroom, she leans against the wall and places a hand over her chest.

Her heart is pounding so hard it feels like it will never calm down. “Calm the fuck down, Reece! He’s only annoyed because the workers weren’t focusing, and he just wants to wrap things up here and finish the rest of his schedule. He’s not jealous, and he doesn’t give two shits who asks for your number!”

After giving herself the most aggressive pep talk she’s ever had, she washes her hands and returns to the lobby to wait for him. She expects to wait for about thirty minutes or more, but he’s already there when she arrives.

“Is it over already?” she asks, frowning.

He hands her purse to her without a word.

Reece takes her Chanel clutch and follows him through the revolving doors.

“So this is what your day is usually like?” Reece asks when they reach the sidewalk.

Chris gives her the same glare she gave him this morning. The look on his face makes her burst out laughing.

“It’s not funny, Reece. I can’t take you anywhere. If they’re acting like this now, what will it be like at the award ceremony next week?” Chris complains, pouting.

“It’s not every day a girl who doesn’t even know her birth parents and grew up in a foster home sells a hundred million dollars in luxury heels in less than six months,” Reece says proudly.

Her store has become quite popular over the past few months, and her name is being mentioned in magazines and articles across the country. News travels fast in the fashion world, and Reece has been nominated for multiple awards at different upcoming events.

Chris helps her slide into the backseat of the town car, and he slides in beside her.

His assigned driver closes the door and returns to the driver’s seat, waiting for instructions on where to go next. Chris isn’t the type to invite anyone to accompany him during business-related situations. He prefers a woman’s company in the bedroom. Boardrooms aren’t exactly his first choice for dates.

Not that this is a date.

“I…uh. I have about two more people to meet. But one is at a hotel restaurant, the other at a bar. You don’t have to come to those if you don’t want to. I just think it would be more convenient for you to sit those two out,” he suggests, and she giggles softly.

Her laughter doesn’t come out very often, not a genuine one anyway. He loves hearing it and seeing the light, childlike expression on her beautiful face.

“You’re scared I’ll get all the attention again, aren’t you?” she asks between bursts of laughter.

Chris watches in awe as she stares out the window with a bright expression. He wonders what she was like before they met. Before she met Draya, before she found a reason to smile in the first place.

He’s never struggled financially in his life, everything he’s ever wanted has been given to him by his father. After graduating university abroad, he received his inheritance, which he invested in his father’s company as well as other companies he believed in.

He gained the respect of the right people and ended up with the high authority of decision-making when it comes to buying lots in high-traffic tourist areas, which he later profited from the businesses who set their roots there. His wealth only keeps growing. He’s never had to beg or wonder when or how he could get something.

This woman, on the other hand, is different. She has struggled and tried over and over to get to where she is today. Part of him doesn’t want to even know the events that took place in the past because he isn’t sure it even matters now.

But one thing nags him the most: her parents. Who the fuck would abandon Reece?

A wave of anger washes over him. He doesn’t know her very well, but he knows her enough. She didn’t deserve that. No innocent child does.

“Were they poor? Were they dying? Was it a choice they regret?” He wonders these things as he sends an email to the Lannister private investigator.

Cornwall could dig up dinosaur bones nobody even knew existed. He could locate criminals on islands in the middle of the ocean with no cellphones and no internet. He could backtrack money transactions from twenty years ago.

The man could find Waldo in a stack of random people. He could find anyone, and Chris was about to tell him to find Reece’s birth parents immediately.

Christopher researched Reece before doing any business with her. He found out all the textbook stuff like; name, birthdate, he knew brief notes about her life in foster care. He even knew that her adopted parents had died before she was tossed around in group homes before getting emancipated at sixteen.

He dug up unnecessary partners who had been linked to her at the time of their meeting and shortly before.

He knew of her attachment to Draya and the length of their friendship. He knew her social security number, her credit score, the assets she owned, as well as ones she was interested in obtaining. He couldn’t take the risk of handing over millions of dollars to someone who would never pay him back. At the time, he had to be sure she wasn’t a high-risk investment.

He attached all the information from his own standard check and sent it to Cornwall with a recent photo. It wasn’t even ten minutes, and Cornwall responded promptly.

Christopher figures he could either meet Reece’s birth parents and yell at them or punch them in the face. He isn’t sure which one he would do first.

Today, he’s decided to enjoy New York with her. It’s not often they get to hang out like this, even though he’s currently working.

Back in Paris, he’d caught sight of her at a fashion show, surrounded by designers eager to sell their shoes in her store. Some might think he was there to support Charlotte as she modeled for Vera Wang. But he felt a sense of pride for Reece as she made her own debut at the event.

“What’s next for you?” he asks as they arrive at their next destination.

The driver pulls up in front of the Golden Hotel and the doorman approaches to open the car door.

“What do you mean?” Reece asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I mean, what do you want to do after this? The store is about to open, online sales are skyrocketing, you’re an ambassador for multiple luxury brands. What’s your next move?” He’s genuinely curious. He’s never seen someone work as hard as she has and achieve their dreams in such a short time.

“Can we get out of the car before you start grilling me about my future?” Reece giggles, playfully shoving him.

CJ tries to ignore the goosebumps that appear the moment her soft hand touches his shirt.

“I’m serious,” he insists.

“Serious about what? Let’s get out of the car already. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but hanging out with guys in backseats isn’t exactly my thing anymore.” She chuckles.

He sighs heavily.

Seeing the deflated look on his face, she gives in.

“Fine. I’m designing my own line of shoes with a luxury brand for women, and another for men. Happy?” she shares her future plans with him.

He looks stunned.

“If it’s successful, I want my own luxury brand with my own name. Well, maybe not my first name, because Shareece sounds too ghetto and my last name isn’t even my real last name. I don’t know what my real last name is. So, I might make something up for the brand. Something profound. Something that sounds British or French.” She smiles at the thought.

“How the fuck could anyone abandon you?” Chris wonders, looking into her beautiful eyes.

She notices he’s staring at her. He stares so long that she raises her eyebrows at him.

“What? I’m pretty, right?” She grins from ear to ear.

He doesn’t hesitate to agree.

“Yeah,” he responds immediately. “Yeah. You’re very pretty.”

Reece waits at a separate table while CJ meets with another client.

Email orders are flooding in and finally, the building codes have been approved by Miami-Dade inspectors. At last, she can open her doors to the public.

She waves a hand to a waiter and orders a bottle of their best champagne. Filled with pride, she sends a text to her best friend.

She doesn’t have to wait long for a reply.

Reece smiles at the reply.

I’ll hire professionals when I get back to Miami.

I don’t know about trusting them though.

I only trust you.

Reece bursts out laughing.

Reece shakes her head at the ridiculousness of her best friend’s husband.

CJ frowns as he walks over to Reece’s table. The first thing he notices is the smile on her face.

“Boyfriend?” he asks, holding his breath.

Reece rolls her eyes at him. “It’s Draya.”

He visibly relaxes. “Oh, I hope you said hi to Fuzzy for me?”

Reece laughs. “Will you call her that forever?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Hey, those slippers are permanently burned into my memory. I still can’t believe she wore pajamas and bed slippers in public.”

Reece reaches across the table to shove him lightly. “Leave my best friend alone. She finally found her footing in the world of fashion.”

“You never know, after that kid drops she might revert back to fuzzy slippers and pajamas again,” CJ jokes.

Draya reverting back to her old self wouldn’t raise any alarm. Especially to Daniel. He’s completely and irrevocably in love with her. He’d see her as the most important person in his life no matter what clothes she wears.

Silence suddenly works its way between them.

Lost in his own thoughts, Chris struggles to find new reasons why he couldn’t ask Reece out. But nothing he came up with made much sense.

Friend-ish.

Can’t you go out with an ish? Aren’t they out now? At a restaurant of all places? Why can’t this keep happening? What’s the big deal?

“Er… I wanna ask you something.” Chris fidgets with his hands nervously. He was happy for the white tablecloth that hid the trembling of his fingers. Reece emptied her glass and poured a refill.

“What’s up?” She gestures for him to continue.

He takes a deep breath.

Against every warning in his head. He had to ask. There’ll never be any success without taking chances. And this chance is worth it. He only hoped she’d see it the same way. Getting to know each other, hanging out more, being in more business deals together, he wanted all of it.

“I’m being honored at the bachelor banquet next week,” he begins.

“I know,” she says dryly.

Reece doesn’t want to talk about the fucking bachelor event.

Annoyed, she drinks another full glass to completion.

After she remains silent following his “I know,” he clears his throat and continues.

“Anyway, I, um, wanted to ask you to accompany me,” he manages to get out.

“Accompany you?” she questions, puzzled.

“Yeah. I, um, don’t usually win these things. But now that Daniel is married, I finally get the award this year,” he says, sounding excited.

When Reece doesn’t respond, he carries on.

“It’s not just about being single. They don’t just honor any random guy. It’s given to only the most distinguished men. I’ve never won since Daniel held the title for several years. I always wondered what it would be like to win and have women fawning over me for a night.” He chuckles, sounding a bit creepy.

The nervousness in his voice, coupled with her silence, only adds to the awkwardness of the situation. It’s like someone let one rip in a crowded room and everyone heard and smelled the unwelcome intrusion.

He should’ve stopped there, but the fool keeps going. “Not that girls don’t usually fall all over me. Haha. But this time it’s an event well known to the US 1%. You can network again. A lot of wealthy people will be there.” At this point, he wishes someone would shove a dinner roll in his mouth just to shut him up.

Reece waits for him to finish. Her expression is unreadable. He wants more than anything to see even a hint of annoyance or humor on her face. But there’s nothing to interpret, nothing to go on. Nothing at all.

“So…what do you say? Will you go? With me?” he asks again.

“I can’t go. I’ll be busy. I have photo shoots next week,” she replies flatly.

“Your photo shoots are on Monday. The event is next weekend. C’mon, it’ll be fun,” he tries to persuade her.

“Why didn’t you tell me it got sorted out? I know I don’t own any of it anymore but you could’ve at least told me anyway,” he pouts, an expression that doesn’t look good on a man over six feet, but she finds him annoyingly cute when he does it.

“I just found out a couple of minutes ago. I told Draya first and now you.”

He continues to pout until she smiles at him. The jerk knows how to get under her skin as well as cool her heated temper.

“You’re such a child,” she complains with a giggle.

A waiter approaches them and leaves menus at their table. He parks the liquor cart nearby while he clears the other tables.

“You can make it up to me by going with me to this thing next weekend. I’ll find the staff you need for the store, and I’ll help you with the hiring process,” he tries once more to convince her.

“Do you think it’ll be weird or something? Going to this event with me?” he asks straightforwardly.

“I’m all about women empowerment, not praising men to be jerks for the rest of their lives.” She doesn’t even try to be subtle about her disdain toward the award.

Chris gasps dramatically. “That’s not what it is about and you know it.”

“Do we have time for this right now? Don’t you have another client to see?” She tries to change the subject.

“I sorted it out through an email while I was with the other client. It’s already dinner time. I’m tired. I’m not seeing anyone else today. I don’t know how CEOs do this boring shit every day.” He reaches his hand across, grabbing a bottle of scotch from the liquor cart. He opens it and fills his glass.

Reece’s eyes bulge open.

“Are you allowed to do that?” she asks in a low voice, looking around to ensure no one saw him.

“I’m a Lannister. I can do whatever I want. What’s a three hundred and ninety-dollar bottle of scotch compared to the money I’ll spend on dinner?” He finishes the liquor in his glass and pours more.

“There’s that arrogance I was beginning to miss this weekend. The good guy routine didn’t suit you at all.” Her sarcasm makes him smirk.

“You like my arrogance just a little bit.” He stares into her eyes until she lowers her gaze.

Her cheeks react as the color pink flushes her skin.

“I don’t like you at all,” she says with her eyes on her empty plate.

“Are you going to come to the event with me or not? I’m almost begging here, and I don’t beg,” he tries one last time.

Reece doesn’t see the point in agreeing to go to an event just to watch women flirt with the man she likes, and she can’t even tell him how she feels. But he asked. He didn’t have to. He could go with anyone, and for some reason, he wants to go with her.

She smiles at the thought of showing up with him. Some people wouldn’t approve, especially his sister. The troublemaker in her head liked the possibility of pissing off Camille Lannister.

“I think…” She was about to agree, but he held up a hand to stop her when his phone rang.

He quickly fishes it from his pocket. The ringtone is different from the usual reflection tune he used for everyone else.

She frowns at the romantic ringtone.

Chris smiles as he swipes the screen.

“Hey.” He continues to smile as he listens to the person on the other line.

Is it fair to call it eavesdropping if the conversation is being had less than a foot away?

“I miss you too,” he says to whoever it is.

By now Reece has her nails dug deep into the tablecloth. She doesn’t realize how hard she’s gripping it until it tears.

“I’m sitting in a restaurant. What are you doing?” he asks the person.

“When will you be in New York?” he asks a follow-up question.

“I’m getting awarded next weekend at the event we go to every year.”

Reece’s eyes widen. “Every year?”

The person CJ is talking to doesn’t sound like his sister, or a friend either. Reece seethes uncomfortably.

“Why the fuck would I be jealous? We’re not together. He can do whatever he wants,” she reminds herself.

But hearing the words in her mind doesn’t help the anger in her heart.

His laughter travels to her ears. The happier he seems, the more she knows she has to stay away from him. Liking someone who likes someone else never works out well for anybody.

“Call me later… I love you too.” Chris hangs up and puts his phone away.

He pours more scotch into his glass and sips it slowly. The smile on his face stretches even wider.

“So, are you going to go with me? I don’t want to go alone,” he revisits their previous conversation.

“I won’t be your fucking placeholder until Miss I Love You comes back,” is what she should’ve said.

But instead…

“Let’s just finish what we came here to do and go back to our jobs and our lives. I don’t want to mix business with anything else. I’m too busy for parties. I honestly have better things to do with my time.” Her harsh words leave nothing but silence at the table.

Even ordering dinner is quiet since they both decide to point at the menu instead of using words to say what they wanted to eat.

Chris sneaks a glance at the human headache in front of him.

In his mind, he says four words and decides to give it a rest.

“Screw it! I tried.”

New York’s Upper East Side’s most eligible bachelors’ banquet is just about the most extravagant event of the year. CEOs, heirs, billionaires, millionaires, and sometimes male models from all over the world are invited and honored at this event.

The committee responsible is sponsored by Pepsi, Tidal, Apple, and Budweiser. The five-star hotels on this side of town have been filling up over the weekend, in preparation for this big night. The penthouses of just about every hotel were booked a week in advance.

Chris Lannister is one of this year’s honorees and he decides to check into a hotel closer to the event, rather than use his apartment.

“How come we’re staying in a hotel?” his best friend Charlotte, and date for the event tonight, asks as she drops her bags in the pristine suite.

Because my apartment smells like her and I’d rather not go there and think about her when I’m with you of all people.

“Dirty,” he finally admits.

Chris starts to undress, first his jacket, then his shirt, shoes, and jeans, leaving only his socks, his tattooed body, and his Calvin Klein boxers.

The suite he’s chosen screams bachelor pad: black walls, a modern kitchenette, a leather sectional with cup holders, a smart TV, a king-sized bed with a leather upholstered headboard, a master bathroom with his and her sinks, a walk-in shower, a bathtub with pulsating jets, a safe, several towel racks, and a private space for the toilet.

Charlotte surveys the room with a hint of disappointment. She’s never been in a hotel with Chris except for their trips abroad. It feels strange that he chose a hotel over his apartment, an apartment she helped him decorate.

“How was your flight?” he asks, his cool breath brushing lightly against her skin.

“Long,” is all she replies.

Charlotte has big brown eyes, dark curly hair, a beautiful body, and skin as smooth as cream. Her unique tan is a result of her Indian-mixed mother and Russian father. Their union was initially frowned upon by her grandparents, but they didn’t let anyone dictate their lives.

Charlotte experienced some odd looks and comments about her skin color from snobbish rich kids when she was younger, but never from Chris. He accepted her the moment they met, protected her, and loved her for as long as she could remember.

“I could’ve helped you clean the apartment, C. I like it there. Why can’t we go over there instead? You know I hate change,” Charlotte complains in a soft voice he finds hard to resist.

Brushing her long, curly hair away from her neck, he places a kiss on her bare shoulder.

“You just got back. I wouldn’t let you clean my place,” he says in that deep, husky voice she loves.

He places another kiss beside the first and continues up, dragging his tongue up to the side of her ear.

A soft moan escapes her lips.

“I’ve seen it dirty. What are you hiding over there?” she asks, her words coming out as a breathy whisper rather than an accusatory tone.

He bends down to scoop her up and throw her over his shoulder. “Kiss first, questions later,” is all he says as he tosses her onto the bed.

Charlotte giggles happily, her body sinking into the duvet as he climbs over her.

She wraps her hands around his neck and her legs around his waist.

He bends to kiss her neck again, peppering feathered kisses along her shoulder, making a new path of kisses to her ear.

“You’re really sweet when you want to be,” she tells him as he undresses her. Her light brown nipples harden, ready to receive all the kisses and licks he’s about to give them.

“I’m sweet to you all the time,” he growls, latching onto a nipple. She cries out from the intensity of his wet lips, warm tongue, and the pool of wetness in her underwear.

He spins them so she’s straddling him. With this angle, he can suck her nipples and peel his boxers down at the same time.

Thankfully, she wore a dress and all he has to do is rip the undies away.

His erection rubs against her entrance and she slaps his chest in protest. “Condom,” she insists.

He rolls to the side of the bed, grabbing his discarded pants without letting her escape from her position on top of him. He rolls one on and doesn’t warn her before thrusting inside.

Chris stays in bed making business calls that afternoon. He despises the needy bastards, but until Camille is free to return to the family business, he has a job to do.

His Balmain suit for the special night arrived an hour early and it’s hanging in a garment bag in the middle of the suite. There’s not much for him to do as far as getting ready.

His short, dark brown hair looks sexy even when it’s ruffled, it’s impossible for him to have a bad hair day…or a bad any-body-part day, for that matter.

After his last email was sent, he taps the Twitter icon to log in.

He scrolls through the notifications until he reaches…hers.

Reece posted a topless picture at the poolside of a mansion in the Hamptons. She had returned to Florida after their mini work trip last week, and immediately after wrapping up her photo shoots and other business there, she was on a jet to the Hamptons for a celebrity pool party.

He rolls his eyes at how perfect her breasts look even with her nipples covered with ice cream emojis.

Jealousy and hidden rage course through his veins. CJ noticed something important after their week together ended. He was far too interested in her, not just her perfect eyes, beautiful smile, lovely laugh, and sexy body. No, not just that. He was interested in her. As a person.

Maybe that would’ve been fine to experiment in the past. Maybe it would’ve been okay to give it a try. If Cornwall didn’t fucking ruin everything with his last email.

Half-truths storm his brain after opening that dreadful thing. Nothing is confirmed for sure or set in stone but the information he received shocked him. Shocked him to the point of despair.

He doesn’t know if he wants Reece to be the woman Cornwall said she was. Her parents, her real parents just couldn’t be who he said they’d be. What were the fucking odds?

He closes his phone and turns over to the brunette lying next to him. Charlotte Muir. High school sweetheart and best friend forever. It wouldn’t be possible to put into words, or even attempt to describe what Charlotte means to him. But why the fuck was he never jealous of her? No matter how many years he’s known her, or how many trials they’ve faced as individuals, or together. He’s never been jealous. Not once.

Not until Reece. She was his first choice for a date to the bachelor’s banquet this year. Hell, she was his only choice. Even if nothing could ever happen. He selfishly wanted every kind of moment he could have with her.

But she said no. Busy is the word she used.

“She doesn’t give a shit, since she hasn’t even attempted to call me or even send a text after our work trip had ended. It was as if I didn’t exist. And here I am thinking of her. And missing her. I must be fucking crazy!” He can run from many things, but he can’t escape his thoughts.

CJ grabs his phone and peels the covers back. He’s lying in bed, sheets ruffled at his hips showing that sexy V.

He snaps a photo with his iPhone and posts it to his timeline on Twitter. Knowing she follows him; he hopes like hell she will see it.

He adds a caption with appropriate hashtags.

Taking over the city for the weekend. #BachelorsBanquetTonight #NYC #EveryoneWhosAnyoneWillBeThere!

He hits Send and a devilish smirk plays on his lips.