Book Read Free

Personal Delivery: A Billionaire Secrets Story

Page 8

by Ainsley Booth


  I nod desperately as I twist beneath him.

  “Good girl. Come on, Jana. Come on my cock. Come for me. You’re so wild, I love it.” He lets go of one of my hands so he can cup a breast, his thumb rolling over my nipple. Oh my God. I groan out loud and he slams into me again. “Fuck. Yes. Feel my cock inside you? Feel how hard you make me? I want to feel your hot little cunt pulse around me. Come for me…”

  With a cry, I do just that, my climax slamming into me. My body’s just pleasure parts now, nipples and pussy and a clutching, hungry space for his cock inside me.

  He rides it out, pulsing in and out of me until I’m done, then he flips me over and hauls me onto my knees. “Again.”

  “Okay,” I breathe. Okay. Ha. That’s a totally inadequate expression of how absolutely I want more. I never want him to stop fucking me.

  I bury my face in my pillow as he strokes his hands over my ass, then fits his cock against my pussy and presses into me.

  Again.

  God.

  With Jake, it feels like anything is possible.

  Best sex of my life.

  Multiple orgasms.

  Fucking with feelings.

  Yes, again. Let’s do this over and over until I can’t walk, man of my dreams.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jake

  It takes three rounds of sex to temporarily sooth the savage beast inside me that wants to consume this woman.

  I didn’t see that coming. When I left New York today, I thought we’d have sex, then order in dinner and talk about our days, or some normal shit like that.

  Instead I mauled her three times over.

  This last time, she was on her side and I slid into her from behind. Convenient napping location for when I deal with the condom. I snuggle back up to her—snuggle, WTF—and bury my face in her hair.

  She laughs weakly. “I think you broke me.”

  “God, I’m sorry.” I’m not really, heaven help me. That’s hot.

  “I can’t wait until you do it again,” she breathes dreamily.

  Oh, thank Christ. “Yeah. Brace yourself for round two after dinner.”

  She makes a happy sound that makes me feel all sorts of dangerous things. “Can we think about dinner in a few?”

  “Hell, yeah. I was thinking a nap would be in order.”

  She nods sleepily, then shifts herself up to a sitting position.

  “Where are you going?”

  She twist around and gives me a sheepish look. “To get pajamas?”

  I love how she said that in the form of a question. “Are you not sure?”

  “Uh…”

  She’s got the best kind of mussed-up sex hair, and this gorgeous post-orgasm flush to her skin. “Come here.” I tug her back down and wrap her in my body.

  “I don’t sleep naked.”

  “That’s going to change.”

  She squeaks, but doesn’t move again.

  I should grab her my shirt. But I want her skin against mine, nothing between us. “You feel good.”

  “I feel naked.”

  “That’s good stuff.” I smooth my hand over her stomach, where the skin is soft and delicate, and trembling under my touch. “Shhh. I’m not going to start anything.”

  She groaned. “I kind of want you to. But no. Sore.” With a decisive pat on my hand, she rolls onto her belly and buries her face in her pillow.

  But that just bares her curvy, heart-shaped bottom.

  I’m so ready for a fourth round.

  I reach for a condom—just in case something happens, I like to be prepared—and I bump the bedside table. A piece of paper flutters to the carpet. I lean over to pick it up. It’s one of her sketches, it looks like. I flip it right-side-up and frown.

  It’s a drawing of a delivery driver who looks awfully familiar. His shirt is open and he’s beaming. “Is this…me?”

  “Is what you?” She lifts her head from the pillow, then gasps and leaps up, launching herself on top of me as she tries to grab the drawing out of my hand.

  That’s a completely futile effort, because my arms are longer and stronger than hers. I narrow my eyes trying to take it all in before she manages to climb me and snatch it away. “What am I here? A delivery superhero?”

  “This is mortifying.” She pushes on my shoulder and I give in, handing her the picture.

  “You drew this?”

  “Yeah.” She tucks it away in a drawer on her side of the bed.

  I’m speechless. “You’re…wow. That’s…”

  “I know, it’s creepy.”

  Not at all. “It’s incredible. Did you make me look like the guy who plays Superman?”

  “Definitely not.” She primly crosses her arms under her breasts, which just presents her nipples for my taking.

  “I’m not saying I look like him, but—”

  “You do look like him. A little.” She flicks her gaze sideways at me. “A lot. Like, you’re hotter than Henry Cavill, okay? And you know it. But seriously, we don’t need to talk about this.”

  “Jana.” I crawl on top of her, ignoring her pout and the fact we’re both still naked. Fuck it. God, she’s so cute when she’s grumpy. “You’re really talented.”

  She gives a baleful look. “Yeah?”

  I nod. “Did you draw me in anything else?” I grin at her. “My birthday suit?”

  A smile softens her face. “No.”

  “Do you want to? I’ll put on your cat slippers and we can do a Titanic re-enactment right here.”

  Her arms relax, and her boobs jiggle as she reaches for me. “I think I’d rather skip right to the steaming-up-the-car scene.”

  “I could arrange for a SwiftEx truck…”

  “Kiss me.” She gives me an earnest, pleading look. There’s something in the way she says it that cuts through the teasing.

  Her lips tremble as I press against her, urging her to open for me, to give me her mouth, her trust. All her secrets.

  Not that secrets have any place in an afternoon of animalistic sex. I don’t want to be a fucking downer or anything. But I don’t like the way she worried there, just for a second, that I might not like the drawing.

  Like it?

  I love it.

  Jana made it. Even if it was weird, it would still be perfect. But it isn’t weird, it’s amazing. And she hid it away from me.

  I stroke my tongue deeper, tasting more of her. Exploring every inch of her mouth. I memorize all of her reactions. What she likes, what makes her restless and aroused. And my favorite—what softens her, makes her mold her body to mine and welcome me inside her.

  Fucking hell. As we kiss, her legs fall open and my erection unerringly finds his way to her slick, sore little pussy.

  She’s sore, you bastard. Don’t turn a kiss into another fuckfest. But damn it, I want her again. I want her like this, too, all needy and vulnerable.

  What does that say about me? I’ve never wanted that before. Emotions usually scare me off. But now I want to be as close as I can to her. Screw the condom. Blindly, I adjust my position so my cock can slide through her pussy lips, rubbing up against her clit instead of drilling deep inside her. I’ll pretend this is about being chivalrous when really I just want her to come on my bare dick.

  And still I kiss her, stoking that steady hum of arousal that’s driving her to let me do this.

  Again.

  Am I ever going to get enough of her?

  She rocks her hips, her legs riding up my sides as I find a rhythm that makes her squirm and whimper and get even more slippery.

  I want to see us together. I touch my forehead to hers and look down between our bodies to the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, my cock riding her pussy, slick and shiny with her juices.

  I’m a fucking pervert.

  Thankfully, she’s completely unaware, because her eyes are mostly closed and the magic of sex has her distracted from my depravity.

  “Oh, Jake.” She makes this satisfied, horny sigh that drives me wild insi
de.

  “Come for me. Then I’ll leave you alone.” Lies.

  “I don’t want you to…” Another sigh, this one fading into a groan as I drive my cock harder through her pink folds. “Please never stop.”

  “Deal.”

  “I don’t know if I can come again, though…”

  A challenge. I brush my lips over hers. “You can. Give me one more.”

  “You’re a maniac,” she breathes.

  And then the pervert spills out of my mouth, the haze of lust swirling around us loosening any control I thought I had over him. “Cover me in your come. Get me all sticky and wet.”

  “Oh my God.” She thrashes her head to the side, her cheeks flaming, but I can feel her react to me where it matters.

  My little Jana is a dirty, dirty slut for the bad words.

  “And then I’m going to come on you,” I whisper. Fuck, it might happen ten seconds from now. “I’ll rub it into your skin. Mark you as mine.”

  “Jake…” Her thighs shake around me, an irregular twitch that echoes the out-of-control desire raging through me right now.

  Erratic and wild. Two words that have never described me before, but right now, they’re bang on. I’m her beast, untamed and bucking hard.

  Her breasts bounce between us, her nipples grazing my chest. I cup one of her tits, probably a little too hard. I’m past the point of restraint. She’s so soft, so sweet. I want her flesh in my mouth. I want to lick every last inch of her body. I want her, endlessly.

  With a cry, she curls beneath me, her cunt wet and pulsing as she comes against my cock, and it only takes two more thrusts for me to join her. My release spurts hot and wet against her belly, and I fall on top of her.

  So fucking messy.

  So fucking perfect.

  She strokes my head as I bury my face in her neck. “Maybe a shower before that nap…”

  Yeah.

  It’s dark when we wake up, and my stomach is growling.

  “Did we miss dinner?” I ask when Jana rubs her hand over my abs.

  She makes a sleepy shrug. “Let’s call it fashionably late. Do you want some coffee?”

  “God, yes.”

  I follow her into the kitchen, where she hands me a stack of takeout menus before getting started on the coffee.

  “What do you like?”

  “They’re all good.” She moves closer and I wrap my arm around her hips, holding her tight. She flips through until she finds a menu for a diner. “This one does everything. Burgers, gyros, perogies. They’ll even send along chocolate cake or pie if we want dessert.”

  The cats all stroll in on cue. Maybe talk of chocolate cake is their dinner bell. Jana shoos me out of the way so she can feed them, and I go in search of my bag. I told everyone I would be away for the night, but I should probably check my email.

  I grab my tablet and settle on Jana’s couch.

  The kitten jumps up on my chest. I give her my knuckle to sniff, and when she hunkers down, I smooth my hand over her back, then scratch behind her ears. She starts purring.

  Jana walks in at that moment and starts laughing as she sets down one of two coffees beside me. “Of course you’ve got her purring.”

  “She likes me.”

  Jana sits beside me and takes a sip of her own coffee. Her eyes dance as she watches me over the rim of the mug.

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  She shakes her head slowly. “I like you, too.”

  “Good.” My tablet dings, signaling an incoming message. I lift it up and swipe in, and Jana turns away. She could be nosy, I wouldn’t care.

  Toby: Are you around? I’m flying in on the red eye. Want to grab breakfast?

  Jake: Sorry, out of the city. How long will you be in New York?

  Toby: Just for the day. Next time. I’ll see what Ben is doing instead.

  I glance sideways at Jana. I find myself wanting to tell Toby where I am, and why.

  “What is it?” she asks.

  “My friend Toby. He’s going to be in the city tomorrow.”

  “Do you want to go back?” She says it carefully, guarded.

  “Hell no.” I laugh. “No. Not at all. But I didn’t tell him where I am.”

  She shrugs. “And?”

  And nothing. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Okay.” She smiles. “So Toby doesn’t live in New York?”

  I find myself telling her all about him. How we were two misfits our freshman year at MIT. How he was a genius and I was smart enough to get him to work with me on a couple of group projects, and how we’ve been best friends ever since, even though he lives in California now and is a distracted jackass who never gives me any heads up that he’s coming to town.

  She laughs when I call him a jackass. “That’s loving.”

  I snort. “Our other friend, Ben, is a total dick.”

  “Can’t wait to meet them,” she says dryly.

  She meant it as a joke, but yeah, I can’t wait, either. “Ben will hit on you. Toby will want to know everything about your job. I’ll hate them both a little bit.”

  “Jealous?” Her voice is light, teasing.

  I’m totally serious. “Yeah. But I want to show you off, too.”

  Her eyebrows pull together. “You want me to meet your friends. For real.”

  “I do. Is that going too fast?”

  She shrugs. “No, I guess not.” She leans in and gives me a light kiss. “I’d love to meet your friends. And make you crazy jealous.” The kitten meows, and Jana turns to nuzzle her face into the kitten’s fur. “I know, baby,” she whispers. “He has no idea.”

  “No idea of what?”

  Jana gives me a disbelieving look. “Oh, Jake. If anyone is going to be crazy jealous at some point in our relationship, it’s going to be me. How many supermodel ex-girlfriends do you have?”

  Two? I can’t remember. “That doesn’t matter.”

  “It always matters. There will be some super awkward meeting at the Met Gala. I’ve seen how it goes on TMZ.”

  “I’ve never been to the Met Gala.” I always turn down the invitation. “Do you want to go? Ben goes every year. As far as I can tell it’s a pretentious bore.”

  “Maybe I’ll go with Ben.” She winks at me as I snake my arm around her. “Is he hot?”

  I pull her tight against my side. The kitten protests, but I’ve got enough affection for both of them. “He’s a dick. I thought I was clear on that point.”

  “Can’t wait to meet him,” she breathes against my mouth as I move in for a kiss. Nothing sweet or light about it, either. I kiss her possessively. I claim her.

  And I begin to plan.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jana

  When I went to Daisy’s house for New Year’s Eve, I’d been deliberately vague about Jake. I didn’t use his name, and I didn’t tell my friends that he’d come to Vermont.

  I did tell them we’d started dating—me and a hot delivery driver, nameless and definitely not a secret billionaire—but he’d had to move away for work, and now we were doing a causal long distance thing.

  It doesn’t feel casual, though.

  And I’m staying at his place for two nights, a fact I need to fess up to Nina when she texts me as soon as I get on the train.

  Nina: Have you left yet?

  Jana: Just pulled out of Penn Station. Should be there in two hours.

  Nina: Early dinner? Or drinks and late dinner?

  Jana: Drinks. But I have dinner plans, sorry.

  Nina: You bitch! With who?

  Jana: Delivery Guy.

  Nina: He’s here?

  Jana: Yeah. He lives in the city.

  Nina: That’s new information.

  Jana: Only because you’re nosy.

  Nina: I am not. What’s his name?

  I press my phone to my chest and groan. I’m pretty sure Nina walks past the Aston Corp headquarters every day on her way to work.

  Jana: Still a secret.

  Nina: Why?


  Jana: Because I don’t want you Googling him.

  Nina: Have you?

  I don’t need to. The morning news tells me everything I need to know about my boyfriend.

  Jana: Yeah, sure.

  Nina: I want all the details over drinks. Brace yourself.

  She’s waiting for me in the main hall of the other Penn Station, this one in New York City. A mile and a half south of Jake’s building. Just thinking of him makes my heart race, and my best friend reads me like a book.

  “Look at you,” she chides as she pulls me in for a hug. “So you’ve found love with the delivery driver, huh?”

  “It’s a bit more complicated than that,” I say, my cheeks flaming again. I give her a quick squeeze. “Let’s go find that drink you promised.”

  It’s unseasonably warm, so we walk instead of trying to catch a cab. We go to a bar she likes on the ground floor of a boutique hotel, and after the bartender makes us drinks called Lavender Is the New Black, she gives me an expectant look. “Dish.”

  “I need you to promise you won’t freak out first.”

  “Is he an ex-convict? What was he in for?” She’s grinning, so I think she’s kidding.

  “He doesn’t have a criminal record.”

  She shrugs. “Damn. I’ve been binge watching Sons of Anarchy. I could go for a bad boy if he had a wild history like that. And an MBA.”

  I choke on the sip I’d just taken. “Well,” I wheeze. “Jake isn’t…uhh, a criminal and he doesn’t ride a motorcycle, I don’t think. But he does have an MBA.”

  “Is he one of those artsy types who turn their back on their straight-laced background? Drives a delivery truck because it frees his mind to write haikus? I’d have to do a lot of squinting to think that’s hot.”

  I giggle and take a more controlled sip of my drink. “No. He uses his MBA every day. And stop trying to decide if he’s hot enough for you to bang. He’s mine.”

  She frowns and gives me a curious look. “So spill.”

  “Secret for now, okay? Don’t tell Daisy.”

  She nods. “For now.”

  “Jake actually owns a delivery company. He was driving for them as an on-the-job thing.”

 

‹ Prev