I pull back, look into his eyes and moan, "Take me, please. I want you!"
Bending me over the desk and unbuttoning his pants, he puts one hand on my upper back to hold me down and runs the fingers of his other hand up the inside of my thigh to my sweet spot between my legs. I hear the foil wrapper of a condom and let out a low groan as his fingers gently rub against my clit. Then he slowly traces my core, slowly rubbing along the canal around my clit to my slick channel. He’s teasing me, and my hips move involuntarily to feel him. I want him inside me. I need him inside me.
His fingers piston into my pussy and my body shudders as I let out a very loud groan of satisfaction. He starts pumping me with his fingers, slapping my ass with his palm. He continues to hold me in place with his other hand on my back as I wiggle and squirm underneath it. My pussy explodes as I cry out from one orgasm after another, moaning his name through it all.
Pulling his fingers out, he roughly grabs my hips and pulls me onto his thick and rigid shaft. He slams into me over and over as I grip the side of the desk to hold myself steady, my whole body bouncing uncontrollably back and forth. My nipples rub across the desk, and that coupled with the onslaught on my pussy is creating the most pleasurable sensation I’ve ever known. I’m dizzy as I cry out in an orgasmic intoxication, his pounding making me grunt with every thrust forward as he pushes into me over and over.
Having climaxed several times, my creamy fluids are running down my leg. I try to regain myself after each orgasm, but Andy won’t let me. He doesn't allow me to come down, keeping me peaked and euphoric.
When he finally pulls out of me, I feel empty without him. Rolling on my back, I’m breathing heavily, my breasts heaving up and down, the hair around my face soaking wet with sweat. I feel as if I just had an out-of-body experience. Attempting to collect myself, I anxiously wait to see what more he would do, my body tense and ready on the desktop as my chest rises and falls in rhythm to my rapid breathing.
I gasp as he grabs my legs and hooks them over his shoulders, rubbing his cock in a slow dance against my clit. I can’t take this teasing. I thrust my hips forward, causing his cock to penetrate me deeper. I’ve never felt this much stimulation in my whole life. He shoves his cock deep into my wet pussy as I cry out for more, pumping me harder and harder, burying himself to the hilt. My breasts bounce wildly in rhythm to his powerful lunges.
My orgasm is growing deep from within as his finger works my clit and my body clenches around his cock.
“Andreas,” I moan at the same time he grits out, “Greer.”
We’re both spent, panting and seeing stars—at least I am.
I ease myself to the floor, both exhausted and exhilarated. I hear movement, but I’m still dazed from that round of orgasms.
Andy hands me a glass of water. “You do something to me that I’ve never felt before.”
I look at him and smile. “I feel the same way.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Andy
Lying awake, I hear her rhythmic breathing next to me. I’m beginning to really like this. She was so upset last night after Marnie made her scene. What a bitch. Why would I care about her mother’s illness? I don’t mean that in an uncaring way, of course. But Greer seems so ready to run when someone makes a big deal of her mother’s issues.
What have people done to this sweet woman?
I think of my own family. Wait until she meets Uncle Frederic. Most likely he’ll pull his pants down and expose himself while telling her dirty jokes in Italian. He’s my mother’s youngest brother and suffered a head injury when he fell off a horse at a young age, leaving him stuck mentally at the age of thirteen but with the sexual urges of an adult male. He isn’t dangerous, only a pervert, but we can’t control what he does around others. In the same vein, she has no control over her mother’s illness.
She stretches her arms above the sheets, exposing her breasts. “You’re awake. Good morning.”
Leaning down, I kiss her perfect forehead. “Buongiorno, cuore mio. Did you sleep well?”
Nodding vigorously, she says, “I did. It must be all the fresh air and quiet of the vineyard.”
“Tell me about your home in San Francisco.”
She rolls into me and I hold her closely, kissing the top of her head.
“It was a place I visited as a child with one of my best friends. The woman who owned it had it for many years, but she was ready to move over to Marin and leave the city behind, so she sold it to me for a steal.”
“May I come visit you?”
She props herself up and places her hand on my chest. “You can come visit me any time. I thought you had commitments here at the vineyard, but I’d love to show you my San Francisco. The places I spent my time when I was growing up and the bars and restaurants I visit with my friends. Please come down often.”
I smile internally. I want to see my Greer in her busy and natural habitat. “Then it’s settled. I’ll come up one evening this week.”
She leans down and gives me a slow and lasting kiss.
Spending the morning reading the paper and enjoying nice strong Italian coffee, we seem to fit well together. She’s warned me she has a partners meeting tonight south of The City, so she’ll leave after lunch. I miss her already, and she hasn’t left yet. I want to enjoy as much time as I can with her.
“Before you need to go, would you want to head to old town St. Helena and wander the stores? There’s a great place we can get a light lunch, too.”
“Sure. I don’t have to be in Hillsboro until six.”
Holding hands, we wander in and out of the handful of stores. We skip the shops that sell various wines, glass sets, decanters, and assorted wine-related stuff to tourist, finding the galleries the most enjoyable. There’s an interesting watercolor painting of a vineyard that attracts her attention like no other. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
I’m stunned. I didn’t direct her to the piece, but it was painted by a friend of mine. “I know the artist. She interned for us, maybe two years ago? Painting was always her passion. We sell prints of the villa at Bellissima. This scene is actually our cab vines on the western side of the vineyard.”
Her eyes fill with shock and wonder. “Are you pulling my leg?”
The gallery owner approaches. “Andy! So wonderful to see you.” She kisses me on both cheeks, then says to Greer, “It really was painted out at Bellissima Valle. It’s the original, and there are no prints. I tried to get the artist to do prints, but she insisted this be the only copy.”
Greer is studying the large watercolor of rows of vines with a majestic patchwork of green and golds in the hills in the background.
“Sharon, this is my girlfriend Greer.” Turning to Greer, I tell her, “Greer, this is Sharon the owner of this fine establishment.”
Sharon extends her hand, and Greer takes it and smiles. “So nice to meet you. It’s Bellissima? No wonder I love it. I have the perfect place for it in my home.” She bites her lip. She looks so cute when she does that. “Would you deliver into The City?”
“We have a service that can bring it in and hang it for you.”
Greer looks at the painting a few more moments, taking it in, before announcing, “I’ll take it.” She grins widely.
“The artist will be thrilled.” Sharon sounds pleased, and I’m not surprised. When my former intern told me she had Sharon agree to take her painting into the gallery and that she was going to sell it for her in the mid six figures, I was shocked. I appreciate the talent though, and I’m glad I know where the painting will hang.
Turning to me, Sharon says, “I think Lydia will need to do more paintings.”
After we get everything wrapped up, we head into a little café filled with wine paraphernalia and overstuffed chairs that invite casual conversation and relaxation. We sit at a bistro table and take in the menus.
“You’re on the wine list,” Greer notes.
“Yes, Christy was one of the first to order cases of Bellissima. She a
sked if we were related to my father’s vineyard, then committed to buying our wine before we planted our first vine.”
“She did? I love that story.”
“Yes, she’s a true connoisseur of wine. I like her list because she always showcases the up-and-coming bottles. Would you be okay to try one?”
“Absolutely. If I order the chicken salad, what do you suggest to drink with it?”
I chuckle. “None of them go with chicken salad, but I’ll order you a nice white chardonnay from one of the new vintners from an area south of my family’s vineyard in Italy. Also a glass of the syrah from my neighbor here in St. Helena. We cultivate our grapes the same, but the fermentation process is different, and I like his wine. Something to compare.”
I order pasta with pesto and shrimp, and while we wait, we talk.
Resting her hands on her chin, she asks me questions about the business and my aspirations. She listens so intently, probing gently as she asks questions. I feel like I’m a king as she hangs on my every word.
When our simple lunch is placed in front of us along with our glasses of wine, Greer lets out a shuddering breath, then lifts each glass of wine to her nose and inhales deeply. Just looking at her makes me think of sex. Raw, pussy-grinding sex. That little crease between her eyes pops up. I’ve been learning her expressions. The crease is a clue that she can’t decide—in this case which glass to taste first.
Leaving the restaurant after our meal, we walk down the street, window-shopping, when we smell the sweet, velvety aroma of chocolate. Her pace quickens, and I follow her.
“You do like chocolate, don’t you?” She looks at me intently, and I know this is a make or break question.
“Without a doubt. Who doesn’t like chocolate, particularly paired with wine or coffee?”
We walk in, noting several cases full of chocolates. They’re all decadent and smell like heaven.
“There’s something in the dark brown sweet I had always found beautiful. The way it glistened when it melted. The way it crumbled when it was hard. It’s exotic, made from far grown cocoa beans. Once it’s finished, all eaten, my heart aches for more. I love all sorts of chocolate.” Her sultry voice makes chocolate sound better than sex. I love her enthusiasm as she studies the cases and carefully chooses a pound of chocolate for a box. She adds three to a bag, and we set off to explore the next store.
She checks her watch, the same conflict on her face that I feel inside me, like a ball of twine knotted and pulled in many directions. She turns to me. “This has been a wonderful weekend. I hope we can do it again soon.”
“Why are you so formal? I told you I’m coming down this week, and I want you to come see Bellissima Grande.”
“I know I come with some baggage, and I know you may change your mind. I just wanted you to know that I understand, and I had a magnificent time with you this weekend.”
I bring her in for a hug and whisper in her hair. “I won’t change my mind.” I need to tell her about my own baggage, but I can’t right now. She could very well run from me once she knows my truth.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Greer
As I cross the Golden Gate, the sun is shining, and it’s a perfect Sunday afternoon. I left a part of me in St. Helena. I love the vineyard. I know Andy calls himself a farmer, but I can’t help but remember the way his eyes lit up as he talked about his passion for the winemaking process and the business. His voice is smooth as silk, and I love his slight Italian accent. It just makes me all gooey inside. I’m starting to fall hard for him.
Traffic slows, but that’s normal. I finally inch my way to my place and ask the doorman to leave my car out because I’ll be heading out shortly.
Walking into my apartment, I drop my bags next to the door and breathe in the smell that comes from the roses and lilacs on my patio. I text Andy: I made it home. Hope to see you soon.
Andy: How does Thursday look for me to come into town? I can do a few things around The City on Friday while you work, then have the weekend on your turf?
My heart warms at the thought of him coming to visit me.
Greer: Sounds like a perfect weekend.
I can’t wait for Thursday. But for now, I need to concentrate on today’s meeting.
California “work appropriate” clothes can range from suit and tie to bathing suits, but I feel a partners meeting, while informal on a Sunday night, deserves better than a lightweight sundress. I change into capri pants and a cute sweater, putting the finishing touches on my makeup before climbing back in my car and heading down to Hillsboro for the meeting.
When I arrive, CeCe pulls me aside. “Hey, chica! You’re positively glowing.”
“Hey, yourself. What’s up?” We link arms and walk in. We’ve been friends for so long that her parents’ house is a second home to me.
“You know that guy we had dinner with at Fashion Week, that the one your cousin set me up with?”
“Todd, right?”
“Well I’ve been talking to him. He’s thinking about coming out to San Francisco.”
I step back, not sure I like this guy who’s inviting himself for a visit. CeCe can certainly take care of herself when it comes to men and her wealth, but I’m always on guard when she doesn’t tell me about a man pursuing her. Her radar must be up. I’ll need to call my cousin and get the real scoop about Todd and his motives for the trip. “To visit or to live?”
“Apparently Vanessa’s husband wants to open an office here, and he would head it.”
Vanessa hasn’t said a word. I’ll definitely need to hear about the plan from her lips to know if it’s true.
“How do you feel about that?”
A big sigh escapes her mouth. “I don’t know. He was fun when we were there, and we’ve exchanged some saucy texts, but I’m not sure I want more than that with him.”
“Why not? He’s single, and as a senior manager at a hedge fund, he has some money. Most likely he may even have more money than both of us.”
“I’m sure he does. I just don’t feel that spark with him. Am I crazy to think it should be lightning in a bottle? I’m not even that excited to talk to him when he calls.”
That’s why she hasn’t told me anything. She’s not into him. “Just be honest with him.”
“I know. Now enough of that. How’s your mom doing?”
“She’s going to be in the hospital for a while. I got her place cleaned. It was the worst I’ve ever seen it, and it looks like she’d been off her meds for a while. I had them throw out everything that couldn’t be cleaned or saved, and now her condo’s essentially empty.”
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks. I was at Bellissima, and one of her friends confronted me about how crazy my mom is. Andy was my knight in shining armor, kicked her out of the tasting room.”
“Really? That’s awesome! Did you spend some time with him while you were there?” she asks, trying to be sly.
“You know Eve had her final break at Bellissima and was wandering his fields essentially naked. Andy found her and kept her while I drove up.” She gives me a gentle squeeze of encouragement. She’s experienced the ugliest of Eve and is still supportive. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up. He’s coming to town on Thursday, and we’ll spend the weekend together.”
Her eyes widen and she jumps up and down, squealing, “I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!”
This is exactly why I don’t tell her about my love life. She gets more invested than I do.
I throw my head back, laughing. “It’s still early, so don’t go and start planning a wedding. He’s only had a small taste of Eve.”
“Honey, he sounds like he handled Eve like a pro. Don’t push him away. You deserve to be happy.”
“I know,” I mutter.
“Greer, I can’t tell you how happy I am for you. I mean, I called several of my friends this week, and we all donated to Mark’s competitor, and I’m funding a political poll to determine his weaknesses. I’m going
for the jugular.”
“Remind me to never cross you.”
“Honey, that man used you and hurt you, one of my best friends. He’s dead to me. There’s nothing you could ever do or say that would make me hate you like I hate him.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too. Now, what are your plans for the weekend? You can’t just hole up in your apartment and have sex. Okay, yes you can, but how about showing him off a bit?”
“I was thinking we would do something with everyone Friday night.”
“Emerson, Hadlee, Sara, and I will get it organized. You both just need to show up.”
“Don’t scare him away. Something easy and simple.”
“Okay, okay. I hear you.” She gives my arm a reassuring squeeze, then goes off to find the girls and begin planning. She has no real concept of easy and simple, so I’ll have to make sure the girls know. They can help tame her a bit.
Mason arrives with his girlfriend, Annabel, who looks like she’s been crying.
“Hey, guys.” I step in and greet them both with a cordial hug.
Mason turns to me. “Annabel thinks everyone here hates her. Can you tell her that isn’t the case?”
We do hate her, and unfortunately he’s the only one who can’t see it. Still, I try to be reassuring. “Annabel, what makes you think that? I can’t believe Mason drags you to these things. When we retire to Charles’s office after dinner, it must be so boring.”
Sniffling, she tells us, “It is, especially now that Hadlee comes with Cameron. She and Margo laugh and talk, leaving me out of the conversation.”
Temptation (Billionaire Venture Capitalist #4): A Second Chance Billionaire Romance Page 10