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The Trade: A Billionaire Office Fling

Page 6

by Tharp, Emma


  She clears her throat and her chin juts out. "I always make good on my agreements. I'm just afraid of disappointing you."

  I look her straight in the eye because she needs to hear this. "You could never do that."

  Fourteen

  Camille

  “Welcome to Monroe Cay,” Garrett says, spreading his arms in front of his massive estate.

  My mouth has been hanging open from the second the tiny puddle jumper landed on Garrett's island.

  "I love this area. It never rains and it’s a tax-neutral environment." He laughs and rests his hand on my lower back, guiding me forward.

  He was right when he mentioned the sand. As soon as we hit the beach, I take off my shoes and dig my toes into the white powdery softness. The light salty breeze blows off the teal water and I breathe in deeply. “This feels so good.”

  We stand in silence with nothing but the sound of the waves as a backdrop. The sea air helps to calm me. A little. All day I’ve been tense. First about the biopsy, and after finding out that was negative, I started to worry about the weekend. What if I don’t measure up to the other women he’s been with? Or worse, what if we’re together and there’s no chemistry? I doubt that will happen, especially with the growing sexual tension between us, but I still worry. I’d like this to go well—for him to get his money’s worth and for us both to enjoy it. He’s done so much for me this past six weeks, I’d like to give him something in return. And I want it. Badly.

  Eventually, we make our way up to the patio that's flanked by the most beautiful shrubs and flowers. There are two massive pillars and the entire front entrance is all glass. We step inside and there are two grand staircases and something I've never seen before: indoor trees. The ceilings are dramatic and high, with stone walls and polished gold marble floors. And there are enormous windows with breathtaking views everywhere. I follow him and he shows me the main living area with plush sofas, chandeliers, and a grand piano. And just like his home in New York, all the technology seems to be state of the art. There's a wine cellar, and in-home spa complete with sauna and steam shower. He has expensive-looking paintings and sculptures tastefully arranged everywhere. It has eight bedrooms, including a massive master suite that I can't focus on for too long without thinking of everything that's going to be going on in there for the next forty-eight hours. Outside there's a tennis court, cricket nets, table tennis, a bocce court, and a quarter-mile track.

  I'm stunned silent.

  "Well, what do you think?" Garrett asks.

  "I don't think there's a word that describes how spectacular it is here."

  Garrett slides his arm around me and we take in the view of the ocean from the back balcony, the salty breeze flowing in through the open windows. My mind can't reconcile the perfection that is this moment with how on earth I ended up here. "I'm glad you like it."

  "Are we truly the only people on the island?"

  "No, the caretaker's house is back there." He points over his shoulder. "There's a couple who lives here year-round. They make sure everything is working and ready the minute I decide to come to the island."

  "How many times a year do you need it?" If it were me, I don't think I'd be able to leave.

  He looks at me and laughs. "What? Seduce women here? No. Like I said, only my ex and my family. And believe it or not, Adriana used to complain that she hates sand. And the quiet. She preferred the city."

  Maybe that should've been a hint that they weren't compatible. As I look out at the teal blue stretching in front of me, I sense Garrett's eyes on me as if they're measuring my reaction. "How could anyone hate this, especially with you?"

  A man looking to be in his early sixties walks in the house bringing the luggage. "Hello," he says. "I will take this up to the master suite, sir. My wife is in the kitchen whipping up drinks and dinner." The man has a serious but friendly demeanor and makes me feel immediately welcome.

  "I'd like to change," I tell Garrett.

  "Let's go to the master suite."

  I follow him up one of the grand staircases and toward the end of the hall. Once inside the room I give it a full inspection. There are colorful pieces of wall art, a glass chandelier, a soft floral carpet, a walk-in closet, and a huge balcony. I stand in the middle of the room and a feeling of unease washes over me.

  "What's the matter?"

  "I'm not sure how to do things here."

  He furrows his brow. "I don't understand what you mean."

  Turning toward him, I stare up into his beautiful dark eyes. "So, do I start undressing in front of you now? What's acceptable in this situation?" I'm serious. I've never done this before and I don't know how to proceed. A more confident woman would strip her clothes off and change in front of him right now, but that isn't me.

  He swallows hard. "Whatever makes you comfortable."

  He has been nothing but a gentleman thus far. And the way he's looking at me now…I can feel it all the way to my toes.

  Screw it.

  I grab the hem of my shirt and tug it up over my head, then let it fall to the floor next to me. He closes the distance between us and sticks his thumbs in the waistband of my pants and slowly guides them down my body until I'm left in nothing but my bra and underwear. I did purchase a couple new sexy sets for the weekend. I couldn’t have Garrett see me in the comfortable undergarments I’ve been wearing lately.

  His fingertips trace a line from my hands up to my shoulders leaving electricity in their wake. "May I?"

  I nod.

  His deep, dark eyes never leave mine as he pulls my bra straps down and unhooks the clasp. Then, with the lightest touch, he bends down in front of me and slides my underwear off. Standing back up, his eyes dance over my skin and it's as if I can feel them touching every inch of my body. "Beautiful," he breathes.

  Biting my lip, I reach for his shirt and pull it up over his head. His chest and shoulders are toned and they look strong. Strong enough to hold me in his arms and protect me.

  Garrett tugs his pants and boxer briefs down and he's standing in front of me, chiseled and so damn sexy. My belly does a backflip and before I know it, he lifts me up and presses me against the wall, claiming my mouth. His tongue is as soft as velvet when it parts my lips. He tastes like the champagne we drank on the plane. The kiss starts slow but builds, full of desperation and hunger, like he's consuming me. I've never been kissed like this before. And I’ve never been this turned on.

  Every sense is heightened, my skin prickles, and my body pools with warmth.

  My fingers run up the back of his neck and through his hair. I've always wanted to do this and the strands are as soft and silky as I knew they’d be.

  Garrett's hands are all over me, touching my breasts, squeezing my nipples, caressing his fingertips down my sides until he reaches around and cups my ass, pressing me against his erection. "Your body is amazing."

  "So is yours." My voice is throaty and filled with want.

  "Hold on to me tight," he rasps.

  I do what he tells me and link my hands together as he lifts me up under my legs and carries me to the bed.

  He sits back, just staring at me, and my body vibrates in anticipation. "There are so many things I want to do to you, Camille." He licks his lips and moves to hover over me.

  His fingers are feather soft as they glide down my body and stop down low at my entrance. He plunges one finger inside me and we both moan. He takes his finger out and his features become serious.

  For a moment my heart stops beating. "Why did you stop?"

  "Because I have to know. I want to hear you say that you want this. I can feel that you're wet and ready, but I need to hear the words."

  There's nothing more that I want right now than this. "Yes, I want you."

  Linking his hands with mine, he smiles. "Good answer."

  Garrett gently glides his erection over my sex, teasing me and building a fire inside me. "I've been dreaming about this for six very long weeks."

  Me, too.
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  Leaning down, he sucks one of my nipples into his mouth and a barrage of sensations tingle everywhere. The pulsing between my legs intensifies as he teases his length over my sex again and again.

  Just when I think I can't take it anymore, he presses into me, filling me all the way. A moan rumbles out of his chest. "You feel so good."

  I nod, staring up at his eyes, his lids heavy with lust and longing.

  I rake my fingers from his broad shoulders down the cut muscles of his back all the way to his glutes. Everything about this man feels perfect and I never want to forget any part of him. My greedy fingers, grip, grab, and caress his smooth skin.

  Garrett’s hands clutch my hips as he plunges in and out. He varies the force, first with languid, slow strokes, then he speeds up, pounding faster. My body responds to him quickly, starting to coil already. "Don't stop."

  The way his eyes are burning into mine, so intense with longing and desire, our connection is undeniable. It's everything I've ever wanted sex to feel like.

  I pull him closer to me, not wanting an inch between us. I want all of him, every part of his body touching mine. He crashes his mouth to mine, and I open to him, taking his lust and hunger and giving him back my own.

  As he thrusts into me, for a moment I can scarcely believe that I am causing this reaction in this man. But I am and I'm emboldened.

  Garrett is deep and hard inside me, filling me so full. His breathing quickens and his muscles begin to tense. "I'm close," he groans.

  "Me, too." My back bows and I grip his arms tightly.

  My hips rise to meet his and he pounds into me. His grip tightens on my hips and his lips twist and tense. At the same time, every single muscle inside me pulls and constricts until we both come apart, panting and gripping each other.

  Everything stills, and the only sound I hear is our labored breathing and waves crashing against the beach.

  Even though I tried to mentally promise myself that I wouldn't give him everything tonight, that I'd save enough of myself so I can try to salvage what's left later, I didn't. I gave it all away. What a foolish girl I am. And the sad part is, I would do it all again.

  I know this can't end well, but I'm here now and I'm going to enjoy every second.

  Fifteen

  Garrett

  Last night, or should I say early this morning, I fell asleep holding Camille. Her body fits perfectly next to mine. Waking up next to her, smelling her hair, gliding my finger along the smooth skin of her arm, her stomach, her breasts, well, there's no better way to wake up.

  I know she's awake. She hasn't moved yet, but a small smile tugs at the corner of her lips. My fingers continue their exploration until soon she's stirring.

  Before I know it, she gets on top of me, straddling my erection. She teases me and rocks back and forth. I grip her ass in my hands and squeeze, creating more friction.

  Even though we had sex three times last night, I'm rock-hard and ready to go right now. She must sense this because she rises up and sinks onto me. She’s so wet and ready and when she lets out a sexy little sigh, throwing her head back, a moan rips from my chest.

  She rides up and down me, driving me wild. I grip her breasts and play with her nipples until they’re hard points. I love the way she responds to my touch, the way she lets out sexy sounds. Reaching down, I caress her clit slow and gentle with my fingers. This causes the desired effect. She leans back and rides me faster. A slow tingle starts at the base of my spine. Not yet.

  Pulling her close so she's lying flat on top of me, every curve of her body fitting perfectly with mine, I kiss her lips, lightly at first, then my tongue finds hers. They tangle together and the faster they move, the more Camille grinds her hips, taking me deeper.

  I grip her ass and squeeze, guiding her in the perfect rhythm.

  "So close," Camille cries out.

  "Yes, baby. Let go."

  As she comes apart on top of me, her body shuddering, I race toward the edge and tip over with her.

  Burying my face in her neck, I squeeze her close to me. She smells so damn good, like floral shampoo and sex.

  "You're so amazing. I can't believe you thought that I'd be disappointed," I tell her, my hands playing with the strands of her hair.

  "I'm glad you approve. Any fear I had about us not having sexual chemistry was thrown out the window last night." She looks up at me and winks.

  "Come on. Did you really have doubts about that? I've wanted you for six weeks now. Wasn't it obvious?"

  She rolls over and lies on her back into the crook of my arm. She looks down and covers up the tiny scar from her surgery with her hand.

  "You can't be self-conscious about that small little thing?"

  She shrugs her shoulders. "I don't like it."

  Easing up to a sitting position, I remove her hand and kiss the small raised scar. "I think you're beautiful and I don't even notice it. If it bothers you, I'll buy you a cute cover tattoo. They can be super sexy."

  She raises her eyebrows and moves up so she's leaning on her elbows, looking me straight in the eye. "You never stop surprising me. You don't seem like the tattoo type."

  "I'm not. But if it were on you, I think I'd really like it. Are you hungry?"

  A sexy, devilish smile spreads across her face. "I'm starving. After all the exercise last night, I could definitely eat breakfast."

  I love this playful side of her, and it's nice to see it. "Agreed. Let me put the call in and breakfast will be ready in about thirty minutes. We can shower and head down after.”

  Camille moves to a seated position and lays a gentle kiss on my lips. “That sounds perfect and so does shower sex."

  "You read my mind."

  I follow her in and start the shower. When it was built, I laughed because of the size. You could throw a dinner party in my shower. It has massaging heads, several rain shower heads on the ceiling, and body jets along the sides. This will be the first time that I've ever been in here with anyone and I can hardly wait.

  Once inside, she grabs the bar of soap and rubs it in her hands, creating suds. Then she lathers me with it, paying special attention to my dick. I'm hard instantly.

  Spinning her around, she faces the wall, her hands flush against it. No teasing this time, I plunge into her.

  Rivulets of warm water stream down her back. The view of her beautiful back and ass has me pumping fast. I'm not going to last very long this time.

  Reaching around, I play with her clit, rubbing fast circles over the sensitive flesh. She moans and looks over her shoulder, heavy-lidded and full of lust.

  Leaning in, I press my lips against hers and kiss her with the same rhythm and speed as our lovemaking. It’s not gentle or sweet this time, it’s fast and deep and so hot.

  "Yes, harder," Camille pants.

  I gladly give her what she wants. It's what I want, too. She sighs and convulses around me. A few more thrusts and I join her, electricity shooting up my spine and down my limbs.

  She spins around to face me, her eyes wide and cheeks flushed. "That was hot. I can't believe you can get hard so quickly. We just had sex."

  The truth is, I can't believe it either. "It's all you. Let me wash you now." I take my time and scrub her body.

  She returns the favor.

  Once we're dry, we get our bathing suits on and head downstairs for breakfast on the patio.

  It's a beautiful day, no clouds, and the sun is shining. There's a spread of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, a variety of tropical fruit and fruit juices. And there's a carafe of coffee. No morning can officially start without it.

  Camille isn't shy. She fills her plate and pours herself a large glass of green juice. I start by pouring myself a mug of coffee.

  I can't get enough of her. And I'm painfully aware that it's Friday and we will be flying back to the city on Sunday afternoon. I can't believe I'm thinking like this when we just arrived, but I'm already dreading what could come next on so many levels. Have I made a good impression o
n her in these last six weeks? I'm ready to take this to the next level. Is she only seeing this for what it started as? A quick affair for money? I can't let my mind mess with me. I need to enjoy this.

  We spend the day swimming in the ocean and the infinity pool. No suits required. We grab a late lunch from the food already prepared for us by the caretakers, and then lie down for an afternoon nap. We wake just before sunset and take a leisurely stroll down the beach, hand in hand.

  This woman is getting under my skin.

  We’ve been sitting across from each other at the dinner table every night for six weeks, but when we return tonight, instead I take my seat next to her. I’ve been having a very hard time keeping my hands off her, and I don’t know how much longer I’m going to have her this close to me, so I’m opting to stay right by her side.

  On the menu tonight, filet mignon with béarnaise sauce, asparagus spears, and roasted fingerling potatoes with rosemary.

  I caress her back with the fingertips of one hand and sip my wine with the other. “I’m going to ask you a personal question. If it’s too much, tell me. When was your last serious relationship?” I don’t know why I have to know; I just do.

  She glances my way, with her beautiful emerald eyes. They’re soft and open. “It was a long time ago. We split four years ago, and I’ve been lonely ever since, but afraid to move on. We were together for three years. I thought he was a good guy at first, but he wasn’t. He never made me feel good about myself and ultimately ended up cheating on me. He broke my confidence and my heart.” Her tone is one of defeat. Even after all these years.

  Taking her hand in mine, I caress her knuckles. “I’m sorry to hear that. He sounds like a total asshole who didn’t deserve an incredible woman like you. You’re better off without him.” It explains her lack of self-esteem, and the reason she hasn’t been in a relationship for so long. He put her through the wringer.

  “Thank you. It seems like we’ve both been screwed over.”

  I raise my glass. “Here’s to moving on and new beginnings.”

 

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