Lily and the Billionaire

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Lily and the Billionaire Page 6

by Beth Michele


  I insert my hand like a vise between her knees. “Well…how badly do you want my fingers and my tongue?”

  “Don’t forget your cock. I want that, too.”

  I shouldn’t be chuckling right now as I get ready to eat her pussy, but damn it, this woman makes me laugh. “Don’t worry, that’s on the menu,” I reconfirm, and she uses a hand to mock-wipe sweat off her forehead. All I can do is smile. “Secretary, artist, and comedian, I see.”

  “Good things come in threes, right?” A mischievous smile stretches her lips, eyes glittering like green glass.

  “Jesus, you’re beautiful.”

  Her smile morphs into surprise before pink blossoms on her cheeks and she glances away. Has no one ever told her that before? “Thank you,” she finally says, legs falling open as her gaze meets mine.

  I clear the disbelief from my face and lean down, trying to get into a comfortable enough position. It’s impossible with my dick being this hard, but what I do take comfort in is the fact that her thighs are still damp with her arousal, that she’s so turned on—for me.

  And Christ, when was the last time I was this enthusiastic about going down on a woman? The answer: who the hell knows. Hopefully, I won’t embarrass myself with my eagerness.

  Her eyes are on me now as I drag my nose along her inner thigh, inhaling her essence. “God, you smell good,” I mumble, taking another deep breath in. Then I glance up at her. “I’m going to devour you.”

  Lily nibbles on her lower lip as she watches me, and what a sight she is. Dress pushed up past her belly, nipples beaded into tight little points, long legs spread wide. All those gorgeous pink folds, and that swollen clit I can’t wait to tease, to bring to the brink of ecstasy. I’m going to make her so crazy with want she’ll beg me to let her come.

  She raises her hips off the seat, trying to get closer to my mouth. My tongue does a long sweep across my lips, showing her what she’s about to enjoy. In the past, I’ve been told I have a very skilled tongue, and I intend to use it here to my fullest advantage.

  I press my hand against her stomach, settling her back against the seat. Then I take my first swipe, and Jesus Christ, she’s wet. So much of her makes it onto my tongue already, and I dive back in, wanting more and going deep. She tastes so fucking good. Every inch of my face is against her cunt, and I’m soaked in her juices.

  “Jace,” she whimpers, words splintered with lust. My name on her lips sounds desperate, as if she can’t survive without me, as if she’s stuck in the middle of the ocean and I’m her life raft.

  But when she grabs my head to pull me closer, fingernails scraping against my scalp, I’m the one who needs to be rescued, because it drives me insane. I’m swimming in her scent, basking in the tight squeeze of her legs against my face. I flick my tongue against her clit before my teeth take over, biting and teasing the small bud. She seems to love it, grinding harder against my face. Her legs tremble, and I know she’s close. I want to drag it out for her, but at the same time, I’m dying to see her come undone.

  “Oh God, I need…”

  “Come for me, Lily,” I command while my tongue continues its feverous assault, sliding through her slick sex, needing every drop of her inside my mouth. Her sweet, tangy flavor coats my tongue, my teeth, my throat. I want her to be the only thing I taste for days.

  A loud whimper falls from her lips, lower body quivering with pleasure. When I’m certain I’ve given her everything she needs, I lift my face from between her legs. She stares at me, breathless, her breasts heaving. “Speechless, Miss Conrad?”

  She doesn’t answer at first, not with words anyway. Instead, she latches onto my shirt and pulls me on top of her. “I want you,” she whispers.

  “Jesus, do I want you,” I echo back, thankful for this explosive sexual chemistry. The lack of expectation doesn’t hurt either. Being on the same page with a woman is rare for me. They typically want something I can’t give them—correction: won’t give them.

  “I want to feel you,” she says with dazed, tired eyes, scrambling to reach between us to find my erection.

  “I want that too…” I glance at the privacy screen then look back at her. “But not here. I want you in a bed, and I want us to take our time. I don’t want to rush this.” Her yawn sails into the air between us. “You’re tired, and you need to get up early.”

  “But what about you?” she asks, hand dangerously close to my painful arousal.

  “I’m just fine. I can take care of myself,” I assure her, the hidden meaning clear in my words. “For now I’d like to take you home and kiss you good night.”

  “Oh.” A pause seemingly filled with surprise, and then, “Okay.”

  “I’m sorry about your panties. I guess you’ll be going home without them.” I stuff the ripped garment in the pocket of my pants then take both her hands to help her sit up.

  She tosses me a fiendish grin. “I have a frequent shopper card at Victoria’s Secret,” she explains, running a hand through her hair to smooth down the unruly strands. “So there’s plenty more where that came from.”

  “Do I get a private fashion show?” I ask, though the thought of her parading around in lingerie is not boding well for my aching cock.

  She gives me a teasing smile. “That depends.”

  “On…”

  Her gaze settles on my lips. “How good my kiss is.”

  I look up from the bottom of the stairs. “A fifth-floor walk-up? That’s a tiny detail you might’ve left out.”

  She peruses me from head to toe. “Can’t hack it?”

  This woman—she makes me want to growl and pound on my chest like a Neanderthal. Worse, she prompts me to do something completely out of character. I grab her and throw her over my shoulder like I’ve wanted to do since the moment I laid eyes on her.

  Lily squeals. “What are you doing?”

  “I think it’s obvious, Miss Conrad.”

  “Put me down, Jace,” she demands, hitting me with her clutch, but her protest is lacking sincerity. In fact, I feel her body go limp against me, fighting this clearly the last thing on her mind. “I do like the view,” she tells me, and I chuckle. “But a good kiss requires energy, so you need to conserve yours.”

  “On the contrary, a good kiss requires skill, so you have nothing to worry about,” I counter, rounding the third floor with ease. “You sound a little too doubtful for my liking.”

  “And you sound a little out of breath.”

  Now I do growl, though she finds humor in it. I’m going to kiss her until she’s breathless, until her knees grow weak and her lips are swollen pink.

  “Five B,” she says once we reach her floor.

  I find the specified number and deposit her in front of the door. She makes no attempt to use her key, instead leaning back against it, an expectant gleam in her eye. When I take one step forward to crowd her, she drops her purse and places her hands on my shoulders.

  “Hands down. No touching,” I instruct, ignoring the confusion on her face.

  She lets her arms fall to her sides. “Why no touch—”

  “Shhh.” I place a single digit against her mouth. “No talking either.”

  Then, with the pad of my finger, I trace the supple curve along her bottom lip, feeling it give beneath my touch. Her breathing picks up, breasts pushing against my chest. My heartbeat is out of control, something not even I can rein in—so I don’t bother trying. Instead, I lower my head a fraction, bringing our mouths closer, feeling her soft breath against my lips. My teeth replace my finger and I draw her top lip into my mouth, sucking on the delicate skin. She makes a sound, something close to a whimper, and every part of me reacts to her want. What I want is to take her here, against the door, to hell with the neighbors. But I won’t. She’s not going to be like every other woman.

  She deserves more than that.

  So, against my better judgment, I give her something more intimate. Along with my lips and tongue, I give her my passion, the fire she ignites ben
eath my skin, inside my chest. I cup one hand behind her neck and the other on the side of her jaw to angle her head and deepen the kiss. As our tongues wrap around each other like vines, I make a promise to myself, a promise to treat her as more than just a vehicle for sex.

  The kiss…it consumes me. She consumes me. The way she smells of jasmine, the softness of her skin, the flavor of her. I can tell I’m driving her crazy. She’s trying to figure out what to do with her hands, until she snaps and they end up in my hair, fingers yanking on the strands to get me closer. I allow it, because, let’s face it, I want her hands on me. And when I press up against her and she feels the steel between my legs, she gasps into my mouth and I swallow it down, not letting her pull away.

  Because I decide when this kiss ends.

  Except…she turns the tables on me, fingers drifting from my hair to my jaw, to my chest, then tugging at my shirt, trying to get to skin. That’s when I reluctantly break the kiss.

  “Come inside,” she says as she pants. “Please.”

  I’m known for my self-control, but this…staring into her lust-drunk eyes with every inch of our bodies touching, it’s almost too much to resist—almost.

  I drop my head to her neck and inhale a breath to regain my composure. When I finally look up at her, it’s with resolve and a small smile. She looks hopeful, and damn it, I don’t want to destroy that. Something tells me I need to be careful in my explanation. I need to be careful with her.

  “Lily…” I start, but the way she’s staring at me makes it hard to think. It’s a combination of affection and pure animalism, like she can’t decide if she wants to hold me or fuck me. To my surprise, I’m okay with both options.

  “Don’t talk.” She echoes my words from earlier. “I need to say something and I need you to listen,” she fires off with determination.

  “Okay.”

  She exhales a breath. “I love sex. I don’t have it very often,” she adds, and I chuckle at her exaggerated expression. “But I want to have it,” she says confidently. “With you.” She reaches forward to caress my jaw. “Remember what I said to you about not living with regret?” she asks, and I nod. “Life can be unpredictable and I may never see you again after tonight, so I don’t want to waste time.”

  It takes a second for her words to register, but when they do, something clicks into place. Something I need to set her straight on. My hands find her face and I look deep into those gorgeous green eyes. “You’re going to see me again,” I affirm, though her distrustful gaze remains steady. My next words come out before I think better of it. “This isn’t a one-shot deal for me, and if I’ve given you any reason to think that then I’m sorry, Lily. You’re funny, smart, feisty as all hell”—I grin—“and beautiful. What part of that wouldn’t I want to experience again?”

  She lifts her chin high and I let my hands fall away. “I am rather magnificent,” she says in a playful tone, but I recognize a cover when I see one.

  “Yes, you are,” I counter, not an ounce of joking in my words.

  “So you’re not coming in then?” She tries again, and I smile, impressed by her commitment to get in my pants.

  “Your persistence is duly noted, but no, I’m not coming in. Not tonight anyway.”

  She exhales a long, sexy-as-hell sigh that wears on my restraint. “All worked up and nowhere to go.”

  I snort a laugh. “Just think how incredible we’re going to be together. Maybe that will tide you over.”

  Doubt fills her voice when she responds. “Maybe.”

  I step away from her, the small space between us seeming vast. Then I take her hand, laying a gentle kiss on the inside of her palm. “Good night, Lily.”

  “So long, Jace.” I see through her smile to the finality of her words, as if she actually believes this is goodbye. Looks like I’ve got something to prove, and she’s thrown the gauntlet down to the right man. I never back away from a challenge.

  Especially one as beautiful as her.

  I hate Jace.

  Scratch that. I hate myself.

  For falling for his stupid words and his stupid grin and his stupid cock.

  It’s been three days since he left me at the door. Seventy-two hours of not being able to find relief, and not just the physical kind either. I need an escape from my mind, the track playing his name on a loop. It’s pissing me off. I’ve got too much to do and no time to be daydreaming about a guy I knew I wouldn’t see again, regardless of what I was told.

  Disappointment squeezes my chest, though I should be used to it by now, very much like a child who gets scolded every time she reaches for a piece of chocolate but still isn’t deterred from reaching again…and again. Jace certainly talked a good game; I’ll give him that.

  I stare out the window, the sun climbing high over Seattle, the Space Needle gleaming against a clear blue sky. The view is stunning, but I can’t seem to enjoy it.

  “Have you got the dates, Lily?” Georgia Fontaine, the manager of office services and my closest friend, waits for me to answer, but I have no idea what she’s talking about.

  My chair swivels and I turn to meet her piercing stare. “What was that?”

  She stops typing on her laptop. “You seem…distracted, which is very unlike you. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.”

  She leans back in her chair and studies me. “Remember in high school when I lured you to skip school with me because I wanted to dye my hair purple and watch old Ingrid Bergman movies?” I don’t answer and she continues on. “Remember how my mom showed up unexpectedly and I was going to tell her I wasn’t feeling well, but you took one look at her stern face and what did you say?”

  “That you wanted to dye your hair purple and watch Ingrid Bergman movies,” I supply, proving her point and reinforcing the smugness on her painted lips.

  “Exactly.” She bangs a fist on the table. “I rest my case. You are and always have been a terrible liar.”

  “So there’s this guy,” I readily admit, because she’s right—I’m a terrible liar.

  A knowing smile. “There always is, isn’t there?”

  “Not for me there isn’t. Not usually.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you that. But there is now, so enlighten me.” She grins, all teeth. “And leave no stone unturned.”

  My gaze travels to my cell phone, the one that’s been silent for three days. “It doesn’t matter because I’m never going to see him again.”

  “But you want to.”

  “Maybe,” I admit, though it’s a bad idea to say it out loud.

  Georgia combs a hand through her cropped blonde hair. “Wow, okay. What’s special about this guy?”

  Trying to hold back my smile is impossible, so I don’t bother. “He’s…smart, charming, sexy, and he has cheekbones that could slice bread.” But then my smile disintegrates because I remember he’s not mine and he won’t ever be. “That’s about it.”

  “Hmmm,” she replies, thoughtful. “Does he have a name?”

  “He does.”

  One side of her lip hitches. “Would you like to share it?”

  I pause for effect then decide to put her out of her misery. “Jace Harlow.”

  Her mouth falls open, brown eyes going wide. “Shut the front door!”

  I laugh at her reaction, picking a piece of imaginary lint off my blouse. “No, I can assure you the door is wide open.”

  She waggles her light brows. “I bet it is.” Then she shakes her head in disbelief. “Holy shit.”

  “Would you believe me if I told you I didn’t know who he was?”

  “Of course I would. For one, he somehow manages to stay under the radar.” She huffs a small laugh. “And your head is either in a paint can or a box of Cocoa Puffs.”

  I smile big. “The perks of knowing me,” I say, and she blows a very mature raspberry my way.

  “I’m confused though—how did you meet him?”

  “At the fundraiser last week, the one you couldn’t attend.”


  “Damn it. Figures. The one time I can’t come see your work”—she throws her hands up—“this happens.” Her gaze narrows. “Wait, what did happen? Please tell me you fucked him, and don’t leave out any of the details.”

  “Seriously, Georgia.” I send her a glare she promptly dismisses.

  “Oh, please. Remember who you’re talking to. Are you telling me you didn’t?”

  I shake my head, trying to forget his hands and the way they felt on my body. Heat blankets my skin. “Yes.”

  “But you wanted to?” she prods.

  My legs press together under the table. “Affirmative. I was practically begging, if I remember correctly.”

  She scoots forward in her chair, arms folded on the conference room table. “But he wouldn’t? Please don’t tell me behind the charm he’s really an arrogant prick like Alec.”

  “He’s nothing like Alec. He’s the total antithesis.”

  A wrinkle creases her forehead. “So what’s the problem? I don’t get it.”

  “There’s nothing to get. We didn’t have sex and I’m not going to see him again,” I tell her, but it only takes a minute before understanding dawns.

  “You’re interested in more than just the sex, aren’t you?”

  “Honestly, the sex is a safer bet for me.” I open my laptop, determined to get back to work.

  “But—”

  Alec’s voice booms from the hallway, drawing our attention. “I told you I needed you here at eight AM for that meeting.”

  The unnerved voice of one of our colleagues replies back, and I flinch on his behalf. “Yes, but I emailed you last night to tell you I needed to help my sister out this morning and I’d be taking a later flight.”

  “I’m sorry, since when do you make the decisions around here?” Alec says, full-on sarcasm in his tone. “Last I checked, I own this company, and I certainly don’t pay you as much as I do in order to have you inform me at the last minute that you won’t be in attendance. Believe me, I’m sure there are many others who would appreciate your salary and do the job I pay them for. So, I suggest,” he goes on, voice rising, “that if you want to continue to support your family in the manner to which they are accustomed, with this job, you’ll be here when I tell you to be here,” he snaps. “Are we clear?”

 

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