The Billionaire’s Big Bold Weakness: A Brother’s Best Friend/BBW Romance (The Billionaires’ Club)
The Billionaire’s Big Bold Weakness: Chapter 6

I stand on the balcony outside Jessa’s door, eyeing her brother. He looks like shit. His head is bowed, his shoulders slumped. He looks worse than I did when I found out about Concord. I’m not sure what happened between him and Gwen tonight, but I’m guessing it wasn’t good.

‘I guess you’re here to send me home,’ he mutters, not even turning around to look at me.

‘I think that might be best for now, man.’

‘Yeah.’ He grips the balcony railing hard. ‘Fuck!’

I cringe as his curse cracks through the night.

He spins to face me, breathing hard. His eyes are so much like Jessa’s. They’re piercing blue, able to see right through most people. Cyrus isn’t someone who likes to bullshit or beat around the bush. He says what he thinks and that’s that. I’m guessing it’s that trait that has Gwen bawling right now. Suspicion cuts through the pain in his eyes, tempering it.

Cyrus is dark where Jessa is light. He looks like the man in photos scattered all around their mom’s house, tall, dark, imposing. Cyrus doesn’t talk much about their father, but I know he joined the Air Force to follow in his footsteps. I know he was a hell of a lot better a man than Charles Concord could ever hope to be. He raised a hell of a son.

I respect the hell out of Cyrus. He became the man of the house at sixteen. He’s done his damndest every day since to take care of Jessa and their mom.

‘Why are you here?’ he asks me.

‘Fell asleep,’ I say, not lying to him.

He cocks his head to the side, scrutinizing my expression. ‘So it’s like that,’ he mutters. He doesn’t sound surprised. More…resigned. ‘Were you planning on telling me that you’re sleeping with my sister, or did you plan for her to be your dirty little secret?’

‘It’s not even like that, Cyrus.’

‘Sure as fuck looks like it.’

‘I’m not sleeping with her.’

‘Tell me you haven’t touched her.’

I can’t tell him that. I think he knows it as well as I do.

‘I’m in love with her.’

His lips compress into a thin line, his body rigid with tension.

‘I’ve always been in love with her. You can be mad about it. You can hate me for it. That’s your prerogative. But I will be marrying your sister,’ I say, my voice soft. ‘If you try to get in the way, you and I are going to have problems.’

We met while we were in Afghanistan. He was providing air support on a mission to free several Americans who got scooped up by ISIS. We walked right into an ambush. I thought we were going to die that day. And then here comes Cyrus, flying so low over a canyon, I thought he intended to plow his plane into the group and take out everyone, himself included.

He didn’t.

His gunner shot us a path right through the enemy. They were too busy ducking and diving to fire back. We made a run for it, managing to get to the village and take cover. Picking off the enemy was easy after that. Cyrus and I have been friends since.

I don’t know why he ever decided to give me a chance, but I trust him with my life. I owe him whatever answers he’s going to demand. But I won’t let him think Jessa is something I’m ashamed of or a secret to be hidden. And I won’t allow him to come between us. If that costs me his friendship, I’ll accept it.

His scowl darkens, crackling with aggression.

‘I would have claimed her long before now, but I couldn’t get my head out of my ass,’ I say, leaning back against the wall behind me. ‘I wasted a lot of time and hurt her, worrying what you and your mom would think.’

‘Why are you telling me this?’ he growls. ‘You want me to commiserate? Pity you because we’re in the same fucking boat?’

‘No. I’m saying it because there are two women behind that door who love you,’ I say, jerking my head toward Jessa’s door. ‘You’ve already made one cry tonight. Do you really want to make the other one cry too?’

He flinches, and I know he’s hearing me. He might not like what I’m saying, but he’s listening.

‘Jessa idolizes you,’ I say, telling him the truth. He’s her best friend, the older brother who helped raise her. ‘You’re her hero. If you make her choose between the two of us, it’ll crush her. Hate me if it makes you sleep better at night, but don’t do that to her.’

He stares at me for so long, I’m not sure where his head is at. I know he’s pissed. I see the anger banked in his eyes and the way he’s clenching his jaw hard enough to crack it. I see the worry there too. In his eyes, no one will ever be good enough for his sister. And he’s not wrong. God knows, I’m not good enough for her. She’s mine anyway.

‘You’re wrong,’ he mutters, running a weary hand down his face. ‘I’m not her hero anymore. Haven’t been since the day she set eyes on you for the first time.’ He tips his head back, staring up at the roof of the balcony for a long second. He looks tired in a way I’ve never seen him look before now. Whatever happened between him and Gwen is fucking him up in a major way.

‘You knew?’

‘You didn’t?’ He drops his head forward to hit me with a look of disbelief. ‘She’s looked at you with stars in her eyes since she met you.’ He sighs. ‘And you’ve looked at her the same fucking way.’

‘Can you blame me?’

‘I wish I could,’ he mutters and then rakes a hand through his hair. ‘But I can’t. We’re cool, brother. I’m not saying I like the thought of you with Jessa, but I’m not saying I hate it either. I’ve fucked up enough tonight. I’m not tearing this family apart over something I’ve known was coming eventually.’

I take a small, relieved breath. It’s not tacit approval, but at least he’s not going for my throat. At least we’re on the same page when it comes to protecting Jessa. Anything else…well, there’s time to work on that later. For now, I’m taking my wins where I get them.

‘You want to talk about it?’ I ask him.

I don’t have to explain what I’m asking. He knows.

‘Nope,’ he says, his gaze drifting to the door. Pain flares in his eyes again, a well of grief bubbling up before he manages to school his expression again.

‘You love her.’

‘Doesn’t mean she feels the same.’

‘I’m not an expert here, but in my experience, women don’t cry that hard over men they don’t love,’ I murmur, pushing away from the wall. ‘She may be hurting, but she loves you too.’

‘Maybe. Maybe not.’ He sighs again, and then takes a step toward the stairwell. ‘I’m taking my ass home before I do any more damage tonight.’

‘You good to drive?’ I follow him toward the stairs. As much as I want to go back inside, Gwen needs Jessa right now. I’d only be in the way. And if I know anything about women, it’s that the last thing you want to be is a man at a we hate men party. Women are beautiful, majestic, terrifying little savages. And we love the hell out of them anyway.

‘Yeah, I’m good.’

The metal stairs vibrate beneath our feet, the rails rattling in protest of our combined weight. I can’t wait until Jessa is out of this place. It’s safe enough, but the complex is old and worn down, not at all the kind of palace she deserves.

Which reminds me….

‘I’m moving to Nashville when your sister goes,’ I murmur to Cyrus as we cut across the parking lot toward our cars.

‘Figured as much.’

‘You going to object to her living with me?’

‘You planning on putting a ring on her finger?’ he shoots right back at me.

‘That’s always been the plan.’

‘Then no,’ he says, heading toward his truck. ‘But you better make it soon. You plant your kid in her before she’s married, they’re going to be pulling you out of the river in pieces.’

I watch him go, chuckling quietly. That went a hell of a lot better than I expected. Though, I don’t doubt for a minute that he’d kill me if I got her pregnant before I married her. I guess it’s a good thing I plan on putting my ring on her finger soon. Because the more I think about getting her pregnant, the more I want it. With her, I want it all and I don’t want to wait.

We’ve had four years of that shit. We’re not doing it anymore.

‘Fucking hell,’ I growl, my dick turning to steel as Jessa saunters toward me across the hotel lobby, an overnight bag slung over her shoulder. Her little black dress has everyone turning to look at her. It hugs her curves like it was designed for them. Her tits are pushed up high, the creamy swells visible over the top of the dress. It dips between them, showing tantalizing peeks of her alabaster skin. Her hair hangs in glossy curls. Her makeup is dark and smoky.

She looks utterly fuckable.

I’m not the only one who thinks so. Every man in the vicinity is staring at her with lust in their eyes. I scowl at every single one of them, daring anyone to try to approach her. They’ll be on their knees with my hand around their throats to silence their pleas for mercy.

‘Hey,’ she whispers, almost shyly as she draws to a stop in front of me. With her heels on, she’s at the perfect height for me to bend her over the front desk and fuck her from behind. I can’t wait to feel her coming all over my cock while I’m breeding her.

I reach for her hand, using my grip on it to tug her forward. My free hand slides around her waist, pulling her flush up against me. I can tell by her little gasp that she feels my erection digging into her belly.

‘You itchin’ for a spanking, rabbit?’ I growl against her ear.

‘What? No. Why?’

‘Because the bottom half of your dress is missing.’

‘Jax,’ she says with a soft laugh.

‘Every man in this place is staring at you,’ I say, biting the shell of her ear. ‘You look too beautiful, baby.’

Her body melts into mine, her breath growing choppy. I can’t resist taking her mouth in a hard kiss. Fuck what anyone thinks. This little rabbit is all locked up. She’s mine.

She whimpers wordlessly, clutching at the lapels of my suit jacket.

I keep the kiss brief, not wanting to embarrass her. I might not care what people think, but she does. That’s all the reason I need to take care with her, make sure I don’t do anything to cause her any embarrassment. Because, quite frankly, if anyone says anything sideways and hurts her feelings, I’ll be flipping tables and causing a scene.

You can polish a turd all you want. It’s still a turd. They may have put a suit on me and gave me carte blanche, but I’m still the same man I was seven months ago. And that man does not play well with others.

‘Jaxon,’ someone says from behind me.

I know that deep timbre. It’s unmistakable.

I reluctantly pull back, tucking Jessa close to my chest.

‘Justice,’ I say, turning to face him.

He’s grinning at me, amusement in his dark green eyes. Like me, Justice is big. He’s in his early forties, rich as Crocus…and about as likely to play by the rules as I am. He owns a sizeable chunk of Wyoming and has scooped up a number of cattle ranches in Tennessee and Texas, too. His gaze runs over Jessa, curiosity sparking in his eyes. To his credit, he doesn’t leer at her.

‘Justice, this is my girl, Jessa. Jessa, this is Justice Foster,’ I say, quickly introducing them.

‘We know each other,’ Jessa says, smiling at him. ‘He likes expensive whiskey and 80s rock. It’s good to see you again.’

‘You too, sweetheart.’

‘I thought you were back in Wyoming,’ I mutter to him, keeping Jessa close.

‘Headed back now.’ Something flares in his eyes, there and gone so quickly, I’m not sure what it is. Worry? Fear? I don’t know. He doesn’t share. Justice holds his cards close to his chest, doesn’t say much. He can be ruthless. He’s also been a damn good friend. ‘Got some family shit to handle.’

‘Your niece?’ Jessa asks, making it clear she knows Justice fairly well. He doesn’t say much about his niece, Ainsley. He’s protective as hell of her.

He jerks his chin in a nod.

‘Good luck,’ she says quietly. Interesting.

‘Next time I’m in town, let’s talk,’ he says to me, giving her a grateful smile. ‘I have a proposition for you.’

‘I’ll make time for you,’ I say.

We shake hands and then he excuses himself, striding across the lobby toward the elevators. He seems like he’s in a hurry.

‘You know his niece?’ I ask Jessa, leading her toward the doors.

‘No. But he stays here a lot when he’s in town on business,’ she explains. ‘He likes to escape to the bar upstairs because it’s quieter. He talks about her sometimes.’

‘Ah,’ I murmur, popping the locks on my car.

‘He’s really…holy crap,’ she whispers, coming to a dead stop beside the car pulled up right outside the front doors.

The sleek black paint shines in the last few rays of sunlight left in the day. The sun is already sinking toward the horizon. It’ll be dark before we make it where we’re going.

‘You like it?’ I ask, taking her small bag from her.

‘You bought the Bat Mobile.’

I throw my head back and laugh loudly.

‘It’s not the Bat Mobile, baby. It’s a Lamborghini Sian.’

‘It looks like the Bat Mobile,’ she mumbles, reaching out to run a hand down the wing of the car. She’s not wrong though. It does look a little like the Bat Mobile.

‘Are you going to let me drive it?’ she asks, turning wide, hopeful eyes in my direction.

‘Fuck no,’ I growl, shaking my head.

She scowls at me.

‘You like to speed.’

‘Why buy a sports car if you aren’t going to speed in it?’ She wrinkles her nose at me. ‘That’s part of the fun of owning one, Jax.’

‘Jessa, get your cute ass in the car. You aren’t driving.’

‘Fine,’ she huffs, rolling her eyes at me. I wait until she goes to move past me and smack her ass, which makes her squeal. She sticks her tongue out at me before sliding into the car.

Once she’s settled, I close her door and then jog around to get in. She’s already messing with the radio, trying to replace her favorite station. I just smile and let her do it. I love the way she messes with my shit without permission. She knows I won’t tell her no.

‘Where are we going?’ she asks, buckling herself in once she’s found her station.

‘You’ll see,’ I say, which makes her growl at me.

I put my seatbelt on and then pull out, headed toward the private airstrip and the plane waiting there. She wants to know where I live. I intend to show her.

‘How many of these did you buy?’ she asks, messing with every button in the car.

‘One.’

‘How many cars did you buy?’

‘One.’

‘You’re a very boring billionaire,’ she mutters, making me smile. ‘I would have bought at least five new cars. And probably a taco truck.’

‘You want tacos, rabbit?’

‘You don’t want tacos?’ She eyes me sideways.

‘I didn’t want tacos until you mentioned it.’

She grins at me, her blue eyes lighting up.

I shake my head, already planning a detour. I was going to feed her steak on the plane, but if she wants tacos for dinner, we’re getting tacos. I don’t really care what we eat. She’s with me. Cyrus isn’t throwing a fit. Life is good.

‘How’s Cyrus today?’ I ask her.

‘I haven’t talked to him.’ Her brows furrow. ‘He’s had his phone off all day.’

‘He had a rough night.’

‘Yeah, he did,’ she says, her voice soft. ‘Did he tell you what happened?’

‘He didn’t want to talk about it.’

‘Oh.’ She processes that for a minute. ‘What did you talk about?’

‘Us.’

She goes completely still beside me, barely even breathing.

‘We’re good,’ I promise, reaching for her hand. I bring it to my lips to brush a kiss across her knuckles. ‘He said he’s been expecting it for a while now.’

‘Oh.’ She exhales a relieved breath. ‘I always wondered if he knew.’

‘He knew.’

‘He never said anything.’

‘Neither did we.’

She wrinkles her nose at me again, and then bites her bottom lip. ‘I was going to tell him about us today. I called him a few times.’

Why does that send my heart into overdrive?

‘I love knowing you were going to tell him about us,’ I admit.

‘I don’t want to hide either, Jax.’ She turns her body in the seat until she’s facing me. ‘I want everyone to know that you’re mine and that I’m yours. I’m tired of running.’

God. I never knew how incredible it could feel to have her say that I’m hers. That she’s mine. My heart expands. My dick hardens. My whole body lights up with electricity, makes me ache to claim her in the Biblical sense.

‘Brave little rabbit,’ I murmur, kissing her hand again.

‘You make me want to be brave,’ she whispers to me, her eyes locked on my face. ‘You make me feel like everything is going to be okay. I needed that, Jax. I’ve been so damn afraid that I was going to lose you once you knew how I felt about you.’

‘Never,’ I promise her. ‘You’ll never lose me.’