The Billionaire: Forbidden Sex Love

“What about you?” my father said to Jenner. “Are you still planning on looking at houses tomorrow?”

Jenner nodded. “I meet with the realtor in the morning.”

“Then, I’ll see the both of you in LA.” He glanced at me. “The move is still on schedule, about a week away?”

“Yes.” My heart clenched as I realized Jenner was now learning about my relocation. This wasn’t the way I’d wanted him to find out, but since I couldn’t stop my father from talking about it, I leaned forward and kissed him good-bye. “Monica and I have all the details worked out. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t be able to report to the office on the date we agreed on.”

“Excellent,” he replied. “Text me when you get home. I love you.” He glanced at Jenner, shaking his hand. “Good luck on the house search.” And then he got out and walked into the terminal.

The driver slipped back into the car once he closed Dad’s door and said to us, “Where can I bring you?”

Silence simmered between us, and I slowly gazed at Jenner. “We need to talk.”

Air huffed from his mouth. “You think?” He glanced away from me and gave the driver the name of his hotel.

As soon as the SUV started moving, I couldn’t handle just the sound of the road. I needed Jenner to understand. I needed to at least explain myself.

I turned my body toward him, reaching for his hand. “Jenner …”

He glared at me. “Not now.”

He wanted to wait until we were alone to have this conversation.

I could respect that.

But that didn’t mean it was easy, staying quiet the rest of the ride until we pulled up to the entrance of the hotel. He waited for the driver to unload his suitcase, and once Jenner was gripping the handle, he walked into the lobby. My stomach ached as I stood behind him at the front desk, especially when he requested only one room key.

He said nothing as he walked by me on the way to the elevator, but I followed him inside, waiting for his eyes to land on me.

But they didn’t.

He wouldn’t even glance in my direction.

The door slid open at the fifth floor, and we walked down the hallway to his suite. The moment he stepped in, he left his suitcase right by the door and went over to the minibar.

He had a few gulps of whiskey down his throat when he finally faced me. His back was pressed against the counter. He looked so incredibly handsome in his black suit, but it was his eyes that haunted me.

That made the tears instantly want to flow.Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

His chest rose and fell several times, moving so fast when he said, “Did you know?”

I dropped my Gucci bag into the nearest chair, holding the hard, sturdy wooden back. “Not at first.”

His teeth ground together. “When did it dawn on you?”

My eyes burned from trying to hold back the tears, my throat on fire as I swallowed. “Lawyer, LA, Jenner-I put it together.”

“So, you fucking knew …”

“Jenner-”

“You lied to me.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I just didn’t tell you, but I wanted to-”

“What the fuck is the difference?”

My heart was beating so fast that I was having a hard time talking, but I needed to get the words out, and I needed to get my shit together. Now more than ever.

I took a deep breath and said, “Please listen to me. Let me explain myself.”

I didn’t know how much longer my knees were going to support me, so I walked over to the large bed and sat on the edge, gripping the blanket between both hands.

“My father has spoken about you before, brief mentions where he would discuss projects you two were completing together, but that’s it, nothing more. You have a memorable name, and while we were chatting in the sportsbook, I assumed it was you. But to be honest, I was already so invested at that point that I certainly wasn’t going to ruin the moment and tell you who I was and derail the chemistry exploding between us. And then we were suddenly hanging out nonstop in Vegas, and the opportunity sort of got lost. I didn’t expect to hear from you once I got back to Miami.” I took several deep breaths, remembering the pain I’d felt when I left his room, when I’d cried in Monica’s arms. “But you came to visit, and things started to progress and-”

“And you should have fucking told me.” He took a drink. “During any of those moments-either of my trips to Miami, when you came to LA, when I took you to my fucking parents’ house-you should have said who you are.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Do you realize your father is my largest client? Do you know what he would do to me if he knew I was fucking his daughter?”

Fucking his daughter.

A description that was so cold.

So emotionless.

“I should have told you,” I admitted, squeezing the comforter so hard that I swore the down was giving me rug burn. “I’m sorry. I wish you hadn’t found out this way. I wish you hadn’t been in the air this morning when I tried to call you and tell you, but I can’t change how this all went down.” I fought my eyes, refusing to let them drip, negotiating with my chest to let up a little.

“But if I’m really being honest, I don’t know that I would have told you in Vegas even if I could do this all over because then you never would have slept with me, and then I never would have known what this feels like.” My voice softened. “What you feel like. What it’s like to be in l-“