Billionaire Best Friend [Complete]

21. Gracie

The backdrop behind Otis and Marilynn Montgomery was a mix of pinks and purples and absolutely stunning. I had a hard time taking my gaze off of it in between bites of dinner and conversing with the couple Sutton had to win over. Otis' hair had taken on a natural gray tint around the temples and beyond. A dusting of gray sprinkled his cheeks but as handsome as he appeared, he was unrelenting.

"Tell me, Sutton," he questioned with a champagne glass grasped in his hand. Marilynn's hand, bejeweled in diamonds, rested on his shoulder. "What really has you barking up my tree? I've had the pleasure of speaking to your brothers. Very down to earth those two. You..." He tipped his shute in our direction. "Not so much." And then he shot straight to the point, his voice all tight. "What do you want?"

Sutton's throat rippled past a sip of the golden liquid we'd all been drinking for the last, I don't know how long. As soon as we came down to the private beach, Sutton scoped them out and off we went, inviting ourselves to join them for dinner.

I ran my palm across the expanse of his thigh under the table where no one could see. He put on dark teal board shorts after our massages. It was hard to ignore how well they fit his ass. I made sure my hand didn't go too high, but I wanted him to know I was there for him. He wasn't going up against Otis on his own.

He licked his lips. Lips that had been stuck in my head since he took my panties from me earlier and tossed them far, far away from where I stood. Absent-mindedly, he had done the same thing to them then. Trailed his wet tongue between them as if he just had his favorite food plated in front of him. "Getting straight to the point. That's something I can respect."

"Likewise, except you have yet to drop the real reason you're sitting over there. Introducing us to your girlfriend might put a sparkle in my wife's eye, but understand that it doesn't have the same effect on me. What do you need me for?"

"It's not you I need," Sutton stated plainly.

My hand continued its range, smoothing down to his knee and looping my fingers around the hardness there before coming back up and starting all over again.

Otis' silver brow lifted. Marilyn removed her hand from his shoulder. Just like that, the air had gone from somewhat enjoyable to tense. Was this always how business was for Sutton? I couldn't imagine. All the awkward dinners. Asking people for help and being denied. Negotiating deals and contracts just to be told no or that the terms weren't good enough.

My hand squeezed over his knee at my own self-preservation. Because we were a united front and because I thought it'd sound better coming out of my mouth, I gave Otis the answer. "Your wife." I turned my gaze to the woman in question. It was uncanny the resemblance she had to the late Marilyn Monroe. Her hair was as dark as the chestnut of my kitchen cabinets back in Philly. "Marilynn, Sutton needs your help."

Otis' eyes moved from mine to Sutton. A breath of air passed between the four of us and Otis put down his foot. "Not happening. You won't use her to get ahead in whatever unethical dealings you have going on."

Sutton's jaw twitched. My hand went into action, moving back and forth again, the rough but smooth material of his shorts smoothing over my palm until it was skin on skin. "My dealings are not unethical."

"Then tell me why you're coming to us." He sat taller in his chair and sat his shute on the white linen tablecloth. One of the servers that was moseying around walked closer and refilled it before walking off to aid the other guests. "Why you're asking me for permission."

"Now, now," Marilynn spoke up from his side. "I'm my own woman, darling."

Guilt tinged the tips of Otis' ears and he looked over at her. "Of course, honey. I'm not trying to come across a certain way, but I won't let you get caught up in someone else's poor business choices."