His Longing
Billionaire Blind Date
Book Four
Jacinda Chance
Copyright © 2016 Jacinda Chance
All Rights Reserved
This book or any portion of it may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events or people, living or dead, is a coincidence.
More from Jacinda Chance
Billionaire Blind Date Series:
His Greed
His Needs
His Passion
His Longing
His Desire
Coming Soon:
A Hard Man: A Billionaire Romance
Snared: A Bad Boy Romance
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“The pearls look good on you.” I drew my index finger under them, following the curve back and forth. “Beautiful.” I pressed the button that raised the divider and blocked us from our driver’s view.
“Thank you, Grant. I love them. But . . .”
“But? No buts, Sophie.” He patted his thighs. “Straddle me.”
She hesitated.
“Straddle me, Sophie. I want to touch you, look at you.”
She carefully straddled my lap, her knees on the seat, thighs spread. I pushed her dress up and out of the way so I could see her tiny, black underwear. Then I cupped both her tits in my hands right through the dress, loving the feel of them against my palms.
“I’d love to tie you to my bed and have my way with you.” I slipped my hand between her thighs to rub her through the thin slip of her panties.
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
One
Two - Sophie
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight - Grant
Nine - Sophie
Ten
Eleven
One
My own orgasm built as I pounded into her, daring her to even try to be quiet. My fingers worked against her, and when I kicked the insides of her feet, spreading her legs further, she cried out louder than before.
She gasped, shocked at her own behavior. It hadn’t been loud enough to draw serious attention, but if someone had been passing right by the door, they might have knocked to see if the person in the bathroom were okay. She knew it. She knew she’d slipped.
“Come for me, Sophie,” I growled into her ear. Her body tensed and she drew in a sharp breath that I knew she would let out in a scream. Our eyes met.
And we both knew I’d won.
I used to take pride in my ability to hold off an orgasm. I could fuck a woman through several of her own, delaying mine until I decided to let go. The control was important to me.
When Sophie sucked in that breath and shook her head because she knew she couldn’t hold back, it broke down something in me, too. She didn’t want to draw attention to what we were doing, not here where the potential for embarrassment was high. The potential for professional problems was even higher.
“Scream,” I hissed. Trust me.
And I saw in her gaze that she did as her body shuddered and she stopped resisting. That pulled my orgasm from me as if she’d tugged a thread and unraveled me.
I slammed forward and came, barely able to keep my own growl low enough to avoid attracting attention. She tossed her head back, and her body clenched around me, the breath filling her about to come out.
I flipped the switch next to the light and clamped my hand over her mouth just as the first sound tore from her. As the ventilation fan roared to life, I held her mouth firm, her scream vibrating against my palm right down to my cock.
I had to open my mouth to exhale like a man starved for air to keep from shouting as I thrust into her, my cock spasming each time her muscles tightened.
When she was quiet, her eyes closed, nostrils flaring above my hand as she tried to take in more air, I dared to let go. She took a gasping breath and licked her lips. Her body still twitched against me, sending little tendrils of pleasure into me.
I watched in the mirror until she opened her eyes. I stayed buried inside her as we sized each other up and caught our breath. I found myself wanting to say see, I would never hurt you. But I couldn’t say the words.
“I can’t believe,” she finally gasped, “you did that.”
“I should have let you scream like a banshee so everybody would come running?” I chuckled at the idea, and to my relief, she smiled.
“I can’t believe you let me think that might happen.”
“It didn’t happen.” I kissed her earlobe and weighed her breasts in my hands.
“No. It didn’t. But it did happen in the restaurant, so I wasn’t sure.”
“I didn’t mean to do that. I was going to tease you all through dinner, nothing more.” I kissed her temple and leaned back so I could slip from her body. “But all’s well that ends well, isn’t that what they say?”
She nodded, a soft look on her face. “Yeah.”
We arranged our clothing, and when she turned, I saw the dark pink tinge of her lips, the way they looked well-kissed. I touched them and kissed her. “Did I hurt you?”
“Not at all.” Again, that soft look. And she leaned forward to kiss me this time, deeper than I’d done.
When we parted, I saw the necklace hanging on the outside of her blouse. I lifted it and let it drop inside her shirt. “Opulent for a business suit. But . . . I’m glad you wore it.”
Her face lit up, and something inside me did, too. “Sophie,” I said, holding her arms.
Damn it, why did my mouth get ahead of me like that? I don’t even know what I was going to say, but it would have been something I knew better than to let slip out. Something I would regret.
I should walk her to her car and claim I had business to attend to. But my tongue had a mind of its own, and it wasn’t listening to my brain at all.
“Let me take you to dinner to celebrate. Your choice.” I peeked out to make sure nobody would see us leave the bathroom, then pulled her out by the hand before she could answer.
I told myself I was disciplined in every area of my life. This should be no different. Just dinner. Then nothing more until I take her to the wedding.
She giggled as we rushed from the bathroom and headed down the hallway, and a treacherous voice in the back of my mind said you’re fooling yourself.
Two - Sophie
I still felt the rush of endorphins or whatever it was that made a person feel so satisfied, thanks to what Grant had just done to me in the bathroom at Holliscorp. Adrenalin probably factored in, too, since I thought I was about to be humiliated and probably told never to show my face back in the building.
If he hadn’t clamped his hand over my mouth, it would have been bad. I didn’t think I could physically not scream, and I could barely believe it, still.
Once we pulled out of the parking lot in Grant’s Mercedes, he drove us away from Holliscorp, and I told him my choice of restaurant. I laughed hard enough to snort at the expression on Grant’s face. “Are you angry, or horrified?”
Grant blinked a few times, his eyes wide, his mouth still slightly open. “I’m . . . surprised.”
“You said your choice.”
Grant
cleared his throat. “I did. But I figured you’d choose between French, Italian, maybe Thai or Indian food, maybe Freisa or Chanti’s would be on the table. Or some fancy place you haven’t been yet. I didn’t expect . . . a burger joint.”
I laughed again at how bemused he looked. “That’s what I’m really craving—a big, thick, juicy cheeseburger. And fries. Maybe a milkshake.”
“Really?” Grant’s brows came down a little. “Okay. Is there a place—”
“Burger Circus.”
“My god.”
I lay my hand on his thigh. “Oh, come on. I know you’re rich, but surely you’ve had a burger there?”
Grant laughed. “No.”
“Burger World?”
He only seemed more disbelieving. “No.”
“Burger—”
“If you say Burger Universe, I’m turning this car around.” Grant’s mouth quirked up on one side. I was relieved, because for a moment I thought maybe he’d disapprove of me in some way because I liked fast-food cheeseburgers.
“What about McDonald’s? Everybody’s eaten at McDonald’s.”
“Yes, everybody has.”
That was a Grant non-answer, so I almost pressed. Something about the set of his jaw when he said it kept me from it, though. “Grant, if you’d rather not, let’s go somewhere you really like.”
“What? No, no. Burger . . . Circus, it is. I said your choice, and I meant it.” He glanced at me and whispered, “God help me,” sending me into a giggle that made him laugh, too.
When we pulled into the lot, Grant shook his head. “We’re not driving through . . . right?” His voice was hopeful. I didn’t tell him he might actually like it better if we did, because the inside was decorated as if the restaurant were a big top, and featured lots of gaudy reds, purples and yellows. Kids loved the place.
“No, I’d rather just go in. If that’s all right?”
“This is your celebratory dinner, sweetheart. Come on.”
He led the way into Burger Circus, and when he stepped in and looked up at the net below the ceiling and the “trapeze” above it, he leaned back enough that I thought he might knock me over and bolt. He righted himself and approached the counter, but the restaurant was busy enough that we had to wait a moment. I was impressed that he didn’t head right for a table and expect to be waited on. Maybe he really had eaten at a McDonald’s before.
“See anything you like?” I asked.
“That’s such a loaded question,” he said, then he winked at me. “I’ll have whatever you have.”
“Bigtop Burger with cheese, and a small order of fries. Oh, and a small chocolate Circus Shake.”
Grant nodded slowly, as if I’d just explained something broad and complicated that took a moment to sink in, like string theory or foreign policy. He mumbled what I said to himself, changing everything to two.
When the person in front of us moved to the side, Grant stepped forward.
“Step right up, and enjoy the Circus!” the teenaged cashier said with much more enthusiasm than the situation warranted. She was probably their employee of the month all year long.
Grant honest-to-god glared at her, but her broad smile didn’t falter. He cleared his throat, and looked so out of place in his expensive suit and posture. And then he put his hand on the counter and leaned ever so slightly. His body went from straight to more curved and relaxed, as if he’d flipped a switch from wealthy businessman Grant to Grant’s laid back country cousin.
“Gimme two Bigtop Burgers with cheese, two small fries, and two small chocolate Circus Shakes. That burger come with mayo?”
“Sure does!” she said, so chipper that even I cringed.
Grant simply nodded and said, “Good. That’ll be it.”
He paid and took the plastic number she handed him with a dip of his head. I followed him to a red-and-yellow-striped table with two chairs. All the booths were full, and most of the tables, too. Two little boys, probably about seven or eight, weaved their way between the tables at a gallop while a man looked up from his laptop every few minutes and said, “Stop running.” They ignored him.
“What was that?” I asked.
Grant lay his palms on the table and glanced around, then fixed me with his gaze. “What was what?”
“You, saying gimme two Big Top Burgers like you’ve ordered them a hundred times.” I laughed and pulled a napkin out of the dispenser. “One minute you seemed horrified, and the next you were in your element.”
Grant shrugged. “I acclimate well.”
“I’ll say.”
And despite how comfortable he seemed there, he leaned forward and dropped his voice to a level I recognized. “Know what the worst part about this place is?”
“What?” I asked, dreading the answer. What I thought might be a fun fish-out-of-water experience with Grant might end up making me miserable if he truly hated everything.
“Having to sit so far away from you.” His foot moved under the table, bumping against mine, and stayed there, as if he wanted that contact.
I grinned. “You’re across a tiny table.”
“I prefer being next to you, so I can act on my impulses.” Grant watched the two boys running and frowned when one fell into a chair and immediately started crying. The man hopped up, griping that he’d told them to stop running, hadn’t he? Grant’s focus returned to me, and he said, soft and low, “I may feel deprived by the time we leave here.”
One of the other Circus employees brought the red plastic tray with our food. Grant looked at it the way I might have looked had someone set a lobster in front of me—unsure where to start. But after a moment, he unwrapped his burger and dug in, and aside from his suit, didn’t look out of place at all.
When I dipped a fry into my milkshake, Grant scoffed, but with a half-smile. “Filet mignon, oysters, truffles, caviar. I would buy you anything you wanted, and this is what you picked? Fried potato dipped in chocolate ice cream?”
“I’m a simple girl,” I said, digging another one into the thick shake.
He laughed and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Oh, no, you’re anything but simple, Sophie Falcon.”
His stare changed then, smile fading, and I wasn’t sure why. The way he stared at me felt intense but soft at the same time. He cleared his throat and glanced down at his mostly eaten food.
“Try it,” I said, holding out the fry I’d just dipped for him to take a bite.
He tilted his head, but then moved to take it into his mouth. I’m not sure what came over me. I still felt giddy from the good news for my career and Grant’s hands on me . . . I flicked the fry at the last moment and left a dollop of chocolate shake right on the tip of his nose.
His eyebrows went up as I giggled.
“I couldn’t resist, sorry,” I said, and I used a napkin to clean his nose. He didn’t move while I did it, but stared at me intently.
I dipped the fry again and offered it. “Seriously, though, taste it.”
Then he grabbed my hand to hold it steady, and closed his lips over the fry. He bit, and moved his head back, but didn’t let go of my hand as he slowly chewed.
“Delicious,” he said, in a tone I knew had nothing to do with the food. “Tell me, Sophie. How does this burger and fry meal compare to the last burger and fry meal you had?”
“The last . . . my lunch meeting with Chris?”
Grant nodded, his eyes slightly narrowed. He still held my hand in his. What was he getting at? He surely wasn’t asking about the food. Was Grant jealous? That seemed ridiculous, but what else could it be?
“You want me to rate the meals or something?”
“Sure, why not?”
“The burger in Chris’ office was better than this one, but the tea wasn’t sweet enough. Eight out of ten.”
He kissed my palm. “And now?”
“The fry and the shake make up for the burger not being quite as good.”
Grant blinked and nipped lightly at the fleshy pad beneath my thum
b.
“And the company is better. Ten out of ten.”
The corner of Grant’s mouth turned up, and he let go of my hand. “Then eating food off a plastic tray was worth it.”
He took a drink of his shake, and his demeanor changed again, back to business-like, though he smiled at me here and there. I wanted to outright ask if he was jealous, but asking sincere questions—why don’t you stay the night—had left me burned before. I didn’t feel like being laughed at or mocked for assuming he might actually be jealous.
When we finished eating he drove me back to my car and said goodnight without so much as a kiss. His phone had chimed right before we left, and after he’d glanced at it, he’d seemed in a hurry to go. I didn’t move to kiss him or pry because he seemed distracted. Maybe I’d text him later to make sure everything was okay.
Still, I found myself disappointed that the night was over with no firm plans on when I’d see him again, until the following Saturday for the wedding.
I’d been home about an hour when my phone buzzed. Arlene’s voice greeted me, deeper and raspier than usual.
“Have you heard?”
“Heard what?’
“Are you sitting down, Soph?”
“I am. My god, what’s wrong?” My mind flashed to Randy and his new motorcycle, and I braced myself.
“I’m probably going to have to spend $600 to change the dates on the plane tickets I already bought, that’s what. I can’t believe them!”
“Arlene, what are you talking about?”
She let out a loud breath. “The wedding’s off.”
Three
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Off?”
“Nance thinks he slept with one of her bridesmaids. Can you believe it?”
I could believe it, both her thinking it and it being true. My stomach tightened as the news sank in, and I felt a moment of guilt for thinking of myself first before what the bride must be going through.
His Longing (Billionaire Blind Date Book 4) Page 1