Redeeming the Billionaire Playboy

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Redeeming the Billionaire Playboy Page 7

by Sierra Rose

“Oh this? Is that the proof you needed? You didn’t subconsciously spill that coffee to get your proof now, did you?”

  I laughed. “No!”

  “Maybe this tattoo is my glass slipper.”

  I cocked a brow. “How so?”

  “In a way, it’s kind of like Cinderella. Prince Charming found a glass slipper. He knew it had to fit his future princess. You saw my tattoo and knew that your Prince Charming had to have that particular design.”

  I chuckled. “So while Prince Charming went through the kingdom having every maiden try on the glass slipper, I went through the land and tore every man’s shirt off, looking for my tattoo.”

  We both laughed.

  “Yes,” I said. “You should’ve seen me in action.”

  “I bet every man loved it!”

  “No, they thought I was a complete lunatic.”

  “You’re kidding. You never did such a thing.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t. I only did that to your brother.”

  “Hmmm. I don’t like to think about that.”

  “But it gave me the proof that I needed. That he wasn’t you. So maybe this doesn’t follow the traditional fairytale after all.”

  He gazed into my eyes. “Yes, it does. Like Prince Charming, you didn’t give up until you found the person that enchanted you that evening at the ball.”

  “Uh, I think you mean, night club.”

  “Ball, night club, it’s all the same.”

  I smirked.

  His smoldering gaze swept up and down my body, and without seeming to think about it, he pulled his chair an inch or two closer to mine.

  I took my hand and began to trace his tattoo playfully. “After an extensive search, I finally found my Prince Charming.” A wave of chills swept over me, and I found myself leaning subconsciously closer. “So how does the fairytale end?”

  “How do you want it to end?”

  My eyes wandered shamelessly over him. My memory of his naked body hadn’t dimmed in the slightest, but seeing him in person, outside my dreams, was sheer torture. The man was perfection, plain and simple. Everything about him was chiseled and taut, and it took every bit of control I had in me not to reach over and take off his pants as well.

  “Della?” He tilted his head to catch my eye, reclaiming my attention. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  A guilty blush rose up my neck, but he didn’t fool me. I knew he was fully aware of the effect he had on me, and judging by that lusty, mischievous light in his eyes, he was thinking the exact same thing.

  “At this point, I think we should leave the ending unplanned, unwritten,” I said. “But how about we write the next chapter together?”

  He nodded, looking deeply into my eyes. “I think we should keep going. Because I know our story doesn’t end here.”

  In an instant, I was in his arms. Words were swept away in the madness of lust. Both chairs toppled backward onto the floor, and we collided together in the middle. A wild tangle of grasping, groping, and kissing ensued, both of us holding on as tightly as we dared. His lips crushed against mine, and the kiss deepened into something neither one of us could finish in the kitchen, something that promised much more.

  Without another word, he literally swept me off my feet and carried me up the stairs. We then staggered down the hallway, his mouth on my lips, my neck, my collarbone.

  Chapter 11

  I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS is happening again. Magic is like lightning, right? Not supposed to strike twice?

  James laid me on the bed without a word, rolling his eyes over me as his lips crept into a grin. His dark hair fell across his forehead in messy little waves, and his skin seemed to glow silver in the light of the full moon that spilled through his window

  The stage was set, and it was clear that we were both beyond ready

  “I really wanted to do this again.” His voice was quiet, so quiet I almost didn’t hear, but there was a deep warmth to it, the kind that washed through me from head to toe as I lay on the bed in front of him.

  Every single day since I met him, I had thought about him. Every night, I dreamt of the man on the rooftop, wished I could see him again, if only for a moment. All along, I desperately wanted to know if he was thinking of me, too, and now I knew he was.

  I propped myself up on my elbows, feeling a little overwhelmed. “I did too,” I said, my voice dropping to a soft whisper with my confession.

  Moving with a confidence and grace that still took my breath away, James removed the rest of his clothes and lowered himself on top of me. Then, with hands so gentle I had to visibly acknowledge that they were really there, he rolled me onto my stomach and kissed my cheek and my ear. “I’m going to make love to you like no one ever has,” he told me. “You’ll compare every lover you ever have to this night with me.”

  My breath hitched in my chest as I stretched my arms upward.

  “I’m going to enjoy every inch of you,” he commanded softly, running his hands up the center of my spine.

  It was only when the zipper began to slide slowly down my back that I realized what he was doing. My eyes fluttered shut, and a hidden smile played across my lips as he eased my dress down my waist, over my legs, and off of me entirely.

  James moved slowly and sensually, grazing his fingers over my skin as he took his time undressing me. When my lace underwear finally hit the floor, he turned me over and gazed at his handiwork, his eyes silently declaring how beautiful he thought I was. He didn’t have to say it; it was written all over him, in the way his face softened into a gentle smile, the way his eyes traced the length of my body, the way he reached out a long finger and stroked the center of my chest, then lingered on my neck for just a moment.

  It was only then that I realized I wasn’t completely naked after all, for James had left the ruby pendant in place, the one he’d placed around my neck the first night we met. He picked the jewel up and caressed it briefly between two fingers before his eyes returned to mine with a radiant smile. “You kept it?”

  “Of course,” I replied, reaching up to touch it myself. “It was all I had to remember you by.”

  He bowed his head and, for a fleeting moment, looked truly touched. Then he lifted his chin again with a devilish grin on his face, and he cocked his head teasingly to the side. “The only thing?” he repeated, his eyes frolicking with mischief. “I’m pretty sure I gave you one or two other things that night. Surely you haven’t forgotten those.”

  A heated flush swept through my skin, and I had to bite my lip to keep myself from releasing a girlish giggle. “I honestly don’t remember,” I liked, twirling a lock of hair between my fingers, feigning innocence. I swept the curl casually across the top of my breasts, noticing that James’s eyes were following my every move. “Perhaps you can remind me.”

  He slanted his mouth over mine to give me slow, exploring strokes with his tongue. I felt like I was melting around him, seduced by his kiss.

  I had wanted to kiss this man for so long.

  And here I was...

  I knew the second I met him that there was something special about him. There was nothing in this world that felt better than kissing James. He melted every single part of me. It was like when we kissed, all my problems melted away and everything was right in the world once again. Just one kiss. It’s all it took for him to become my world from the second we met. This moment was so perfect and I knew it was only the very beginning.

  He slid his hand across my stomach, his fingers teasing me at the lace edge of my panties.

  Our kiss built slowly, in sensuous heat. My fingers combed through his hair. He stroked my jaw and my throat, his kiss falling to my neck in that soft spot below my ear.

  James slid his hand from my hip down to my thigh. His fingers stole along the smooth curve of my inner thigh and I knew he could feel the humid dampness before he ever touched me. Parting my inner lips with one finger, he was unprepared for lush wetness and heat that greeted him. He groaned aloud against my
breast and sheathed his fingers within me. My passage seemed to consume him, melt him, and his body responded, rigid and sharp. As he worked his fingers inside my slickness, stroke after stroke, I gasped. He withdrew his fingers, his mouth plundering mine.

  The sexual tension, all this foreplay that seemed to last forever, and the passionate way he possessed me was mind-blowing.

  “I need you inside me,” I said.

  When I couldn’t take it any longer, I opened up for him, eager, hungry. He needed no more invitation, because in the next second, he gently slid deep inside.

  “You feel so good,” he said.

  I moaned in pleasure. “You do too.”

  He slowly thrust inside me, so I could adjust to his huge girth. We were both so ready, so close to the edge, that not a force in the world could have kept us apart. He kept his movements measured, calculated to bring about my most powerful responses.

  James built the rhythm masterfully, rubbing his chest against my sensitive nipples, moving his mouth to lick my ear, to nip at the lobe, and then bite me softly just below my ear. I was yelping, twisting beneath him, digging my fingers into his hips and trying to pull him into me deeper and faster. But he wasn’t going to rush this. He held back, giving me soft strokes that went only so far, reducing me to frustrated growls that made him kiss me more. I was winding my legs around him, trying to anchor him to me, to drag him in deeper.

  We made love for so long that I lost track of time.

  When he gripped my calf, and pushed my leg to my chest so he could go deeper, it was to feel the cry from deep within me as he brushed my elusive g-spot.

  I let out a single cry, then pressed my head into the pillow. I bit down on my lip as my eyes watered with the impossible force. I assumed I would be prepared for his repeat stellar performance, but he took my breath away like it was our first time.

  Faster and faster he moved, harder and harder. Then, as if his mind-blowing pace was not enough, he had the nerve to reach one hand down between us, toying with my most secret places as he pressed his lips softly against mine.

  Once he had me quivering and clutching at the bedsheets helplessly, he drove in and out of my supple heat until I was shattering around him. He kissed me, swallowed my screams, slowed his thrusts as I came back down, trembling, with tears clinging to my lashes. He kissed my top lip softly, soothing me until I opened my mouth for his tongue and he could taste me fully.

  I gasped, closing my eyes as my back arched off the bed.

  For a second, we simply stared at each other, each panting with silent, shallow breaths. He then softly kissed me, tenderly sweeping his tongue into my mouth with a gentleness that racked us both with intense desire. Then, moving with that delicious slowness, James sat down on the bed and pulled me gently into his lap.

  It was an entirely different experience being on top, the one in control, so close to James’s face. I stared deeply into his eyes as I wrapped my legs slowly around his waist, then sank down on top of him. He gasped softly as his hands tightened around my back, but other than that, he remained perfectly still as I rocked my hips, swelling us both to even more pleasure with each gyration.

  “Fuck, Della,” he panted, unable to remain still for very long.

  His forehead dropped against my neck as his long fingers wrapped tightly around my waist to move me up and down on him. A low moan escaped his lips, and the next thing I knew, he fell backward. He lay flat on his back as I swayed against him. Again, his hands reached up to guide me, but I swatted them playfully away. I couldn’t help it. I enjoyed the power, enjoyed that fact that, for once, I was the one leaving him spinning and gasping for air.

  There was another sharp cry, and his hips arched up into mine, grinding against me in pure delight. I bit down as hard as I could on my bottom lip but still couldn’t hide the euphoric smile that spread across my face as I threw all caution to the wind and rode him like it was last night of my life.

  My hair flew around me as I rocked on him, feeling him stiffen harder and harder between my legs. At one point, he tried to flip us back over, as if he was unable and unwilling to wait even a second longer, but I anchored him beneath my legs and took my time, teasing him as I rolled my hips in a seductive circle. I took endless pleasure in the tortured moans that came from the man on the bed beneath me. His dark hair formed a halo around his head on the mattress as he lifted his hands to my breasts, only to drop them quickly to my waist, helping me crush my body against him as hard as we both dared.

  “James,” I whispered as the feeling of sweet release began to sweep over me.

  The second I said his name, as if it was the magic word, James lost himself entirely. He arched his back against the bed as his eyes snapped shut in a wave of euphoria. It took a second or two for him to recover, but as soon as he did, he stretched up on his elbows and pulled me down, forcing our lips together in a beautiful collision.

  If my voice was his magic potion, his lips were mine, because the second he granted me the kiss I sought, I couldn’t help but let out another sharp cry, my body tightening and contracting around him as his arms wrapped tightly around my back. He held me close and let me ride it out, just smiling quietly as one hand came up to stroke the back of my hair.

  “You’re my definition of perfect,” he said.

  I was wrong when I said nothing could be better than that first night, I had to admit to myself. This—knowing his name and sinking into his arms... This is better.

  Chapter 12

  I WAS SURE I HAD ONLY dreamt that I had fallen into bed with the perfect man, and when I woke up, he was gone. “James?” I sat up sleepily, pushing my messy hair out of my eyes as I glanced around the room for him. The room was empty, and the sheets beside me were cold. “James, are you there?”

  No one answered.

  My phone was fully charged now. No important messages. I took it off the charger and shoved both the phone and the charger into my purse.

  Worried that it was really just a dream after all, I groggily crawled out of his bed, slipped one of his expensive t-shirts over my head, and scampered noiselessly down the hall.

  As far as I could tell, the house was vacant, and I saw no one in the rest of the upstairs, the living room, the parlor, or the kitchen. In fact, the only sign of life was his fancy espresso maker bubbling happily away on the counter, with an empty mug sitting beside it, accompanied by a bedraggled rose.

  I picked up the flower and sniffed its fragrance, stroking its petals as a crooked grin crossed my face. Smitten with it, I tucked it behind my hair and filled the mug with coffee, then let the steam waft over my face as I made my way out to the balcony.

  It was early, even though I wasn’t sure of the hour. Most of the city was still sleeping, and the sky had yet to shed it stars as it slowly surrendered the night to the rosy hints of dawn.

  Never in my life had I experienced anything as peaceful as standing on that balcony in the clouds, gazing out at the sleepy world beneath me. It was a tranquility I’d never felt, but it was quickly interrupted by an unexpected splash.

  A dollop of scalding coffee spilled over my hand as I whirled around in surprise. I barely stifled a curse as I quickly discarded the mug, and my eyes flickered up the staircase that led to the roof.

  Of course he had to find the one place higher than the balcony.

  I stood silently at the top of those stairs, watching as he opted for a morning swim instead of a morning jog. He lapped the pool, his tantalizing body cutting gracefully through the water. I decided that it made perfect sense that he was a swimmer, with a body like that. He was muscular but lean and fit, an athlete but not a bodybuilder. While I’d attribute most of it to some Olympian genetics, the fact that he jumped into the water every morning certainly didn’t hurt.

  The pool itself was enormous, like one in a gymnasium in some Ivy League school. It was also conveniently shaded by several potted trees, which allowed me to ogle James to my heart’s content without him seeing me.

>   It was strangely hypnotizing, watching him slice through the blue water, his body straight as an arrow. His head was often submerged for so long, but he always came up for air at just the right time. If not for my step back, during which I inadvertently rattled a loose tile on the edge of the roof, I could have stood there and watched him for hours.

  He stopped swimming immediately and glanced over his shoulder in surprise before his face melted into a welcoming grin. “Morning, sunshine. Coffee?”

  “Already found and already spilled,” I answered with a salute, sashaying forward with a little grin. “Nice pool, by the way.”

  “Nice legs, by the way,” he said with an appreciative grin, after sweeping his eyes over his t-shirt and down to my thighs below it.

  I flushed and sat down at the edge of the tile, dangling my feet in up to my knees. The water wasn’t exactly heated, but it wasn’t outrageously cold either. It was brisk, the perfect temperature to keep occupants moving. “Do you do this every morning?”

  “Yep, every day.”

  He shook back his wet hair and climbed up the ladder as I leapt to my feet to grab a towel off the rack for him. He flashed me a grateful smile, but for the first time, I was momentarily distracted, looking not at his beautiful face but at a scar on his leg. I’d never seen it before, as he was usually doused in flickering moonlight and shadows during our intimate times together.

  “Gruesome, isn’t it?” James caught my eye as he toweled himself off. Rather than being embarrassed or upset, he simply seemed resigned to the whole thing.

  I took a step closer, my eyes flicking up to his for permission. “What happened?”

  “Car accident,” he said shortly. A second later, he gestured to the tattoo. “I got it a few weeks after my accident.”

  Without thinking, I reached out and traced the ink. “What’s that mean?” I asked curiously, my hand still lingering on the numbers on his chest as I looked up at him.

  He glanced down briefly, before wrapping the towel around his waist. “Latitude and longitude, a time and place.”

 

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