Christien had never imagined he could last for months without sex, but that was exactly what happened. Month after month, he kept waiting for himself to give up and decide that this long-distance relationship with a seventeen-year-old Kharis was more trouble than what it was worth.

But he never did.

Instead, every month his desire for her only grew and he found himself making up all sorts of excuses to visit her…like now.

At a few minutes past midnight, the house was dark and silent as the billionaire headed up the stairs. Light streamed from below the door to Kharis’ bedroom, and his lips curved as he wondered how she’d react when she realized he was here.

He knocked on the door once.

“Come in.”

He knocked again.

“Who is it?”

When he still didn’t answer, he heard footsteps softly pad towards his direction. The door opened---

SHIT!

At the same time, Kharis gasped, “Oh my God, Christien!”

Recovering himself with an effort, he said rather dryly, “I think that’s my line, baby girl.” And as it should be, since his seventeen-year-old girlfriend had nearly scared the shit out of him – again.

This time, her face was completely painted in red, with thin, vein-like lines drawn over it. She looked like someone who had peeled off her flesh until all that was left was blood and muscles.

“What the hell is that?” Christien was torn between exasperation and amusement.

“My Halloween mask.” She grinned up at him, and he blanched. Jesus, even her teeth were disguised now, with everything painted to make her mouth look like all but gums were left.

“Do you like it?” Kharis asked cheerfully.

The billionaire answered honestly, “Not one bit.”

Her face brightened. “I knew you’d love it!”

What the---

He was about to tell her that was the exact opposite of what he had said but when she threw her arms around him in a sweet cozy hug, the billionaire thought, fuck it. He would just have to grit his teeth and love her damn Halloween mask.

Pulling away, she said teasingly, “You haven’t kissed me yet.”

He smiled down at her flesh-less face and teeth-less mouth. “You’re pushing it.”

Kharis giggled. “Sorry.” Dancing away from him, she waved for him to enter, saying over her shoulder, “Give me a minute to wash this off.”

After locking the door, Christien followed Kharis to the en-suite bathroom and leaned against the doorway as he watched her scrub her face clean. He had never watched a girl wash her face or take her makeup off before, never had an interest to – but with Kharis it was different.

So was it because of love, he wondered broodingly, or was it simply because Kharis was just so damn different from everyone else?

Straightening, Kharis caught his gaze through the mirror and grinned. “You’re staring at me again.”

“My crush has no teeth left,” he deadpanned. “Isn’t that reason enough to stare?”

Kharis giggled. “Sorry, baby boy.”

The billionaire winced. “Will you stop with that?”

In the act of applying toothpaste to her toothbrush, she asked, “Stop what? Brushing my teeth?”

“Very funny. You know what I mean.”

She answered in a garbled tone, her mouth now full of toothpaste foam.

“I don’t understand a single word you said.”

Kharis finished rinsing her mouth off before turning to face him with a teasing grin. “I said, I like calling you my baby boy.”

“I don’t.” The billionaire’s tone was very flat.

But this only had her pouting. “You call me ‘baby girl’ and I don’t mind.”

“You’re years younger than me.” He entered the bathroom as he spoke and placed his hands on her hips. “So whether you like it or---” The billionaire swung her up and Kharis let out a breathless laugh as he placed her on the countertop.

His gaze captured hers. “That makes you my baby girl.”

Her lips curved, and then she fluttered her lashes at him, saying, “Swooooooon.”

It had both of them grinning, but then she leaned forward as his hands moved up to her waist, and that was it. Their mouths fused in the next second while their hands busily undressed each other.

As always, he finished first, her pajamas and underwear falling to the floor just as she managed unbuttoning his shirt. “Let me,” he muttered against his lips.

She released him with visible reluctance, her dark eyes hazy with desire as she stared at him while he undressed himself. He saw her wet her lips when he got rid of his last piece of clothing and nearly groaned.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop doing that?” He yanked her to him as he spoke, crushing her breasts against his chest. You know what it does to me---”

“I do know.” And her tongue darted out another time. “And that’s why I keep doing it---mmph.”

His mouth was back on hers, the billionaire’s control snapping at her words. His kiss was hot, deep, and savage. It would have scared most seventeen-year-old girls off, but instead it had Kharis pressing her body closer to him, molding her form against his.

“Kharis.” Her name came out a low groan as she started rubbing her pussy against his cock.

She rubbed herself against him even more, whispering, “Take me, please.”

Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!

He forced himself to pull away, grating out, “You know I can’t do that.”

“But---”

He shook his head. “Enough, Kharis. You know that’s non-negotiable.”

Her eyes flashed. “What about what I want?”

“I know exactly what you want,” he answered roughly, “and I can give it to you without taking your damn virginity.” And he suited action to words, not letting her say another word as he placed her back on the counter, pushed her back against the mirror, and thrust two fingers inside her pussy.

She jerked and gasped, eyes wide with shock and excitement. “Christien!”

He answered by fucking her faster and harder with his fingers, his gaze all the while on her face, drinking in every emotion that crossed it.

Need. Arousal. Pleasure. Anticipation.

And as she came nearer to her orgasm, her hips sliding back and forth on the counter, her face showed the most elusive and complex of all emotions.

Love.

While continuing to ram her pussy with his fingers, he used his other hand to pinch her clit. A moan escaped Kharis, and her eyelids fell closed. “Christien.” And then her body started to buckle as she came.

His fingers continued to move inside of Kharis as her creamy essence flowed out, thrusting and thrusting until he was certain that he had gotten the last drop out. He bent close as her eyes fluttered open, and with his fingers still inside of her, he took her mouth in a long, possessive kiss.

Her arms wrapped around his neck as she returned his kiss, her tongue dancing against his sweetly. He sucked on her tongue, and she sucked on his. When he managed to lift his head, both of them were panting, and she was staring up at him like he had just offered her the world with his kiss.

Stupid little mutant. Hopeless little mutant. Precious little mutant.

“Did I give you what you wanted?” he asked under his breath.

A soft smile touched her lips, and he thought, this was the smile of a woman who had just been beautifully fucked.

“You know you did.” She laid her head against his chest, and his arms automatically wrapped around hers. “You always do.”

His chest clenched. She was so damn sweet and trusting. Did she never worry of getting hurt at all?

After a quick shower, Kharis changed into a nightshirt and insisted on accompanying the billionaire to the guestroom, where he had an entire wardrobe’s worth of clothes stored.

As he headed straight to the cabinet, Kharis parked herself on the bed and tucked her legs under her. “So I was wondering…”

“Go on,” the billionaire murmured as he stepped into a fresh pair of sweatpants.

“You didn’t mention about having a flight to Connecticut scheduled tonight.”

Ah. He had hoped she wouldn’t ask about that. Pulling a thin cotton shirt down his chest, the billionaire answered evasively, “I don’t.”

“Oh.” Kharis looked at him in concern. “So is there some sort of emergency at Nightmare?”

Fuck. Now he had her worried for no reason. The billionaire shook his head, saying gruffly, “Nightmare’s doing fine.”

“Then---”

Instead of answering her, he scooped Kharis up in his arms and took her back to her bedroom. But when he laid her on the bed, he saw that the expectant look hadn’t left her face, and he sighed. Damn his little mutant’s insatiable curiosity. Sitting on the edge of her bed, he said shortly, “I came here because you said you missed me.”

She gaped at him.

Any time now, the billionaire thought.

Kharis started to laugh.

And there it was.

“Christien, oh my God. Are you kidding me?” She laughed again, the sound utterly overwhelmed, but her brown eyes were soft and shining.

“Were you kidding when you said you missed me?”

She sat up at that, a hurt look on her face as she blurted out, “You know I wasn’t. I did miss you. I do. I miss you all the time, but when I say I miss you, I didn’t expect you to come flying back to Angel Falls like it’s just a block away from Miami. I mean, that’s so insane---”

The billionaire’s face remained expressionless.

A smile tugged at her lips, and she sighed, “Oh, Christien.” And she cupped his face.

He stiffened, and he said warningly, “Kharis---”

But she still ended up doing it.

She pinched his cheeks.

A grim expression fell over Christien’s face. “Stop it.”

“I want to,” she said very earnestly. “But I can’t.” And so she pinched him again.

“Kharis.”

Another pinch.

“Do it another time, and you won’t see me for the rest of the year.”

Her hands flew away from his face. “Spoilsport.” But she ruined this with a giggle. “I still can’t believe you flew here just for that.”

“You and me both,” he muttered under his breath. “So can we just drop it?”

As he joined her in bed and pulled Kharis close, her back against his chest, he heard her murmur his name.

“What is it this time?” he asked with an exasperated sigh.

“You really love me, don’t you?” Before he could answer, he felt her reach for his hand. A moment later, and she had brought it to her lips, and the billionaire stiffened as he felt the softest kiss brush against his knuckles.

“Love you, Christien.”

He didn’t answer, and Kharis didn’t seem inclined to wait for one. Only a few minutes had passed when he felt her breathing slow down, and when he carefully pulled away to look at her, he saw that Kharis was already fast asleep.

Her words echoed in his mind, and they were…beautiful. But they were also terrifying. Impossible. They were words that he knew he couldn’t – shouldn’t – always answer with silence. Sooner or later, the day would come that she would need him to speak.

And when it did – what then?

The question left the billionaire wide-awake for the rest of the night, and when dawn broke, he took every care not to wake Kharis as he slipped out of her bed. He left the house for a walk, but it did nothing to put his mind at rest.

When he came back, the rest of the household was up, but no one even blinked an eye at his sudden presence.

“Good morning, sir,” Mrs. Grant greeted him pleasantly. “Will you be joining us for breakfast?”

“If you have space for one more?”

“Of course, sir. It will be ready in half an hour.”

Walking into the dining room, he saw that Kharis’ grandfather was also up, and the old man didn’t seem surprised at all to see him. “Mr. Di Luca, good morning.”

Christien mentally winced at Paul’s formal tone. It had been seven months since he and Kharis started going out, but the older man had yet to warm up to him.

“Good morning, sir.”

“May I have a word with you in private?”

“Of course.”

Paul headed to the library, and Christien followed a few steps behind him out of respect of the older man’s seniority. When they were inside, the billionaire waited for Paul to take a seat before doing the same and opted for the couch rather than the other armchair.

When he turned to face Paul again, Kharis’ grandfather gave him a rather stiff smile. “You need not bother with the pretenses. I’m not the lord of this house, and it doesn’t bother me that it’s so. However---” The older man’s tone became forbidding. “I am concerned about Kharis, and that’s what I wish to speak with you about.”

Paul waited for a moment, allowing the billionaire to speak, but when nothing seemed forthcoming, Kharis’ grandfather went on to finish the rest of what he had to say.

“I’m certain you’re aware that Angel Falls is a small town, Mr. di Luca.”

Realizing where the conversation was heading, the billionaire said evenly, “People always talk, regardless of the place.”

“That may be true,” Paul retorted, “but people don’t just talk about anyone. There’s always a reason behind such talk---” The older man’s eyes became cold. “And in this case, you’re the reason why people are talking about my granddaughter. Everyone thinks she’s your mistress---”

“She’s not,” he said fiercely.

“And yet it’s your name listed for ownership of this house, your name on the checks that pay her schooling, your name she utters when people ask her about our gardening business---”

“If I say she’s not my mistress,” the billionaire cut in a steely voice, “then she’s not. And I have kept my word---”

The older man dealt him an unimpressed look. “That she remains innocent is a credit to your control, but it doesn’t change the facts. She is a mistress if you’re keeping her a secret---”

“What would you have me do,” Christien demanded in an explosive mutter. “Kharis is only seventeen. The press will tear her apart if they find out about her---”

“Fine then.” Paul’s tone was cold. “Let’s wait until she turns eighteen. Will things change then? Will she no longer be your secret?”

The billionaire didn’t answer.

“You may not want to think of her as your mistress, but that is what you made her to be.” The older man slowly came to his feet. “You owe my granddaughter the truth, Mr. di Luca, and I’m counting on you to tell her.”

The billionaire also stood up, but Paul remained unflinching even as the other man’s height allowed him to loom over Kharis’ grandfather.

“I have never thought of Kharis as my mistress.” Christien’s tone was fierce. He expected the older man to reject his words, but instead Kharis’ grandfather simply nodded.

“Strangely enough, I do believe you. But it doesn’t change how things have turned out.” The older man’s tone marginally softened. “I’m not completely blind, Mr. di Luca. I do see what made my granddaughter like you, and I hope you know I’m not talking about your wealth or even your looks.”

The billionaire didn’t answer, thinking that Paul Stamos was wrong. If they weren’t talking about his wealth – then what else did he have to offer to Kharis?

Kharis’ grandfather sighed. “You don’t like yourself much, do you, Mr. di Luca?”

“No.” Christien’s tone was matter-of-fact. “I don’t.”

“I suppose that’s why you’re still unable to make up your mind about my granddaughter.” Paul sighed again. “I don’t know why you’re being so hard on yourself, but you should at least know I’ve always seen you as a man of honor. And it’s that honor of yours I’m counting on that will ensure you don’t disappoint either of us – least of all Kharis. You have until her eighteenth birthday to make a decision, Mr. di Luca. Tell her the truth. Make up your mind about her. But if you can’t do that…then leave my granddaughter alone before you hurt her even more.”