Billionaire Body Heat

by Sasha Gold

  Her gaze travels down my chest. Her eyes flare with surprise.

  “You’re really going to go running? Now?”

  “Unless you have a better idea for me to get rid of a little extra aggression.”

  “Like what?”

  Her expression and her words remind me of how young she is, how innocent. I shake my head and pull my attention away. Anywhere is better than looking at her. I’m amped up. Dangerously amped up and she has no idea how much she’s fucking with my mind.

  “Please don’t leave me,” she whispers.

  Her voice cracks with emotion. I stare at her for a long moment, wondering if she might start crying. She looks small and scared and completely vulnerable. I feel like a rampaging beast, the last impression I want to give her right now.

  “I’m just going out for thirty minutes, sweetheart.” I try to tone down my response, but only manage to dial it back a notch or two. “I shouldn’t be around you when I’m like this.”

  She moves closer. Her scent hits me hard, drawing a vicious growl from deep inside my chest.

  “Why shouldn’t you be around me?” she asks softly.

  I turn to face her. “Because the last thing I want to do right now is go running.”

  “What’s the first thing you want to do right now?”

  I feel my lips curl into a primal snarl. This girl is shredding my self-control. She gives me a look that’s an intoxicating mix of innocence and temptation.

  “You want to know, sweetheart? You want to know what I want right now?”

  She nods. I move closer. She retreats a few steps until she’s backed against the doorframe. I set one hand over her and with the other cup her jaw, lifting her chin so I can brush my lips over hers. My kiss is soft, gentle, as I hold back with the last of my strength.

  “I want to fuck you, Tessa. I want you naked in my bed, under me, on top of me, on your knees while I take you from behind. And that’s just for starters. I want to keep you in my bed. Taste every inch of you. I want to hear you beg. I want to hear you give in. I want to hear you come. And then I want to start all over again.”

  She closes her eyes as I lower to scatter kisses across her cheek.

  “But I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Her lids flutter. She looks up at me. “I’m not that fragile.”

  Her words are soft and inviting. She’s trembling but she gazes at me with a sweet look, like she wants me too. Her desire warms her eyes and makes her breath ratchet up.

  “Not fragile?” I whisper.

  “Roman,” she sets her hand on my chest.

  Electricity buzzes across my skin. Her touch is fuel to the flame. She skims her fingers across my shoulder and down my arm, brushing over an old scar. I wait. No matter how much I hunger for her, I won’t proceed until she allows me.

  “I’m not… fragile,” she says softly. “And I want you as much as you want me.”

  Yeah, I doubt that very much. I groan and lower my hands to undo her shirt. Keeping my eyes on hers, I watch for any sign of doubt or fear. I don’t see either, just a small glimmer of surprise as I strip her down. I’m tempted to tear her clothes off, because this is taking too damned long.

  Urging her to the bed, I slip her shirt from her shoulders. Her bra is next. I undo the hook and her breasts spill free. I want to worship this body, savor every detail. Her breasts are perfect. They fill the palm of my hand. Her nipples are taut and tightly beaded. She draws a sharp breath as I cup them and kiss them.

  “So beautiful, baby. It’s almost too much.”

  I strip her down until she wears only panties. She’s shy and wants to cover herself, but I push her hands aside. I kiss her and walk her backwards to the bed. Teasing her with my tongue, I coax her lips apart and stroke her with hard, possessive thrusts.

  I’m done waiting. Done with being civilized. Coming face to face with the man who hurt Tessa has cleared my mind of all remnants of civility. She’s mine to protect, and mine to own. I’ll kill for her. Die for her. She can’t possibly understand the depths of my obsession.

  As I crawl up the length of her body, I catch the scent of her arousal. I stop. Every muscle across my body tenses as I fight off a wave of lust. A growl forms in my chest. I inhale, drawing the sweet scent of my woman deeply into my lungs. I’m so far gone for Tessa. She wants me too. This is the final blow. I run my fingers along her thigh and stroke her pussy. She’s wet and swollen and ready. When I rub my finger across her swollen clit, she squirms and whimpers. I trail my hand up her hip, making her shiver.

  Her gaze drifts down my body. The moment she sees my cock, her eyes widen and a small cry falls from her lips. She stares and bites her lip. When she lifts her eyes to mine, she looks at me with obvious dismay. “Roman…”

  “S’okay, sweetheart. We’ll go slow.”

  “I don’t think you’ll fit. It’s not possible.”

  Her tone is matter-of-fact and her words are in a very distinct non-bedroom voice.

  “You and I will fit perfectly, Tessa. We were made for each other.” She smiles at me. I lower to kiss her gently. “You understand me?”

  “I do.”

  A moment ago, she told me she wasn’t fragile, but she is. She’s so small and so delicate, I’ll need to be careful, especially her first time. I’ll take care of her always, but I want her to know that we’re doing this raw and without anything between us.

  This pussy is mine. I lift my gaze to hers. “Nothing between us, Tessa. Ever.”

  She blinks, not understanding, and then as she grasps my need to claim her, she nods. Her eyes shine with warmth. She submits, giving herself over to me completely as her knees part. I keep my eyes on hers and settle between her silken thighs. I rub the head of my cock against her slick, swollen folds and groan. The urge to take her is overwhelming, but I need to take it slowly. She’s so tight. I grit my teeth.

  Slowly, I ease into her. Gently. The whole time, I keep my eyes locked on hers. We both feel the moment I reach her barrier. I can tell because she winces but doesn’t cry out despite the nearly impossible fit of our two bodies. I hold myself over her. She grips my forearms. A huff of air escapes her lips, and then her mouth curves into a smile as I push deeper.

  “Hurting you?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “No. It’s better.”

  I thrust once, twice, three more times, and when I’m fully inside her, I pause to allow her to adjust. She traces her fingers over my shoulders. I kiss her, gently at first and then more forcefully, teasing her with my tongue as she squirms beneath me. I can tell she wants more, but I need to take my time giving it to her.

  “Please,” she whispers.

  I love the sound of that single, small word and gently, I move my hips, rocking them and taking short strokes. Her small sounds make me want to drive into her and fuck her the way I’ve dreamt about fucking her. But not this first time. She lifts her knees and clasps her thighs around my hips just to make me fight for control that much more.

  I groan. A shudder rolls down the length of my spine.

  She laughs softly and tilts her hips. “Roman,” she whispers. “I’m yours.”

  Little brat. Sweet brat.

  I can feel her body tightening beneath me. Her fingers dig into my shoulders. Her laugh fades to something more, something needy. Her small cries become more desperate and drive me half wild with the urge to pound her small, tight body. She arches beneath me, writhing, and when her back bows off the bed, she comes with a desperate cry. I follow her an instant later as my self-control shatters. I thrust hard, coming deep inside her.

  Panting and spent, I snarl as I empty my seed into her. She’s mine now. I’ve marked her. I’ve made my claim. If she doesn’t carry my baby this time, she soon will. It’s fate. The thing that binds her to me is bigger than I understand and she’s mine now. Mine.

  I collapse slowly, lying across her small and delicate body. I try to keep from crushing her and linger, reveling in the way her tight pussy grips
my cock. She cups my head, drawing me down to her neck, her fingers threading through my hair. I could stay inside her all night. The idea of keeping my cock buried in her sweet body, keeps me hard and sparks a new wave of arousal.

  “You’re all mine now,” I growl softly.

  She strokes my jaw and looks up at me, her eyes shining. “And you’re mine too.”

  I nod. “It’s true. But I’ve been yours since the beginning.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tessa

  The next few days we spend more time in bed than out of bed. It’s as though a dam has burst, and the torrent of need overwhelms both of us. I’m unmoored, swept away, and there’s nothing I can to do save myself. I tell myself I don’t need to, that I can let go, and yet part of me can’t get used to letting a man care for me in every way.

  We lie in bed, make love, sleep. Every so often we venture into the kitchen to find something to eat. Or we send out for food. There’s no talk of me cooking. Or the broken vase. We laugh over silly things. Even our silly laughter ends up with us kissing like we can’t get enough. One night, our dinner is simply a bowl of popcorn that we popped in the fireplace of all things.

  Both of us ignore our phones. Instead we indulge in bubble baths and Netflix, mid-day lovemaking and long afternoon naps. I want to build a wall around us. I want to build it high and keep the one person who has loved me like I’ve never been loved. I want to shut out the world and make believe, but of course that’s not possible. Not now. Not ever.

  I know that. I just forget every so often.

  A few days after we first make love, Roman and I wake, entwined in each other’s arms. But instead of an early morning round of sexy games, followed by a long, hot shower together, he gets up from bed. His expression is grim, business-like.

  “I got a text in the night. I have work out of town for a few days. I have a surveillance job.”

  I nod, like that’s nothing. He’s leaving. It’s fine. “Okay.”

  He grimaces. “I don’t like it, but it’s an important client. Damon’s taking care of another client’s niece, and that just leaves me.”

  He throws a bag on the foot of the bed and starts packing. Everything he puts in the bag is black. For a brief instant, I imagine him rappelling down the side of a foreign embassy. Any other time I’d grin at the idea. I know he runs dangerous, covert-type of jobs, but mostly he oversees them. He’s not usually the person who is out there, boots on the ground, sort of thing.

  “Where are you going?”

  He shrugs a shoulder. “Colombia.”

  My heart lurches in my chest. “South America? For how long?”

  “A few days.”

  Turning away, he heads into the bathroom, and a moment later, I hear the shower start. I stare at the bag, an odd sensation twisting inside me. He’s leaving. I want to rip everything out of the bag. Beg him to stay. Anything to keep him from walking out the door. It’s ridiculous, I tell myself. I can’t lay claim to him. He’s not mine, or at least not yet.

  The ring he gave me glitters in the early morning rays of sunshine. He’ll be back, I tell myself. This is real. It is.

  I shower in the guest bathroom and dress hurriedly. He’s in the kitchen, drinking a coffee and talking on the phone to Claire about Damon. They discuss the details about his work with a girl called Sofia D’Angelo.

  “I had no idea she doesn’t speak English. I guess Damon’s going to have to figure out a few Italian phrases… yeah, I’ll bet he’s pissed… nothing I can do about it now. It’s just three days. He’ll need to make it work…”

  He stands in front of the window and I take the opportunity to admire him. He’s wearing jeans. I’ve never seen him in anything other than dress pants, and while I’ve seen him naked plenty of times over the past few days, I find I want to let my gaze linger. He’s got a powerful stance, feet planted a step apart. His broad shoulders taper to a narrow waist. His legs are powerful and the hands that held my wrists last night look like they were hewn from stone.

  I miss him, and he’s not even gone. The idea of him leaving makes my eyes sting. My stomach flips. Don’t go, I want to tell him. Don’t go…

  “Tell him,” Roman’s voice roughens to a masculine growl, “that this is payback for what he did to the Lear. Savage Security damn near got fined by the FAA. That should stop his griping. If not, have him call me, but it needs to be in the next hour, before I’m off the grid.”

  With a snort of disgust, he hangs up. Lifting his cup to his lips, he turns and stops when he sees me. His eyes warm, and the grim expression fades. He sets his cup down and crosses the room to gather me in his arms. He nuzzles my neck. “I’m going to steal you away and make you my woman. Just as soon as I get back. I told Claire to fast-track our wedding, but I’m not sure if she’s going to do as I ask. Remind her for me.”

  I wrap my arms around his neck and hold onto him. “You’re leaving…”

  He cups my face. “I almost never have to go out of town.”

  “But sometimes you do?”

  “Right, but ninety-nine percent of the time, I’ll take you with me.”

  I smile and nod, and I can feel my eyes prickling again. He kisses me gently, but firmly, like he wants to be tender with me, but possessive too. His arm wraps around my waist and he pulls me against him. I shiver with arousal. His cock presses against my stomach. His grip tightens. He strokes me with his tongue, groaning when I part my lips and submit to his kiss.

  With a deep growl, he pulls away from me. “I better stop now.”

  Neither of us talk much as he gathers his things and gets ready to leave.

  “You won’t be able to text me for a few days,” he says gruffly. “But if you need anything, call Claire. I left my credit card on the counter.”

  I walk him to the elevator. He brushes a kiss across my lips before stepping into the elevator. His gaze remains fixed on mine as the doors close and then he’s gone. I can’t help feeling bereft. Normally, I’d know just how to keep busy. Whenever things get difficult, I can distract myself, but that was before Roman.

  Chelsea hasn’t spoken to me since she broke up with Brendon. I suppose she’s embarrassed. I tried to call and text, but she’s ignored me completely. My friends from the culinary school are busy working and I’m left to my own devices. Even Claire is too busy to get together or go shopping. We were going to look at wedding dresses, but she’s asked to wait till Roman and Damon return from their assignments.

  One day drifts into the next. The nights are the worst, but the days aren’t much better. I try to keep busy. Cooking shows. Napping. A few trips to the market. I’ve never felt so bored or miserable. After four days, I get a text from Chelsea, asking if I can meet. She doesn’t want to meet anywhere public, for some reason, so I invite her to the penthouse.

  I call the doorman and tell him that I’m expecting company.

  An hour later, Chelsea arrives. She steps off the elevator without a word and stands silently in the foyer. She’s bundled up in a coat and hat and scarf. Slowly, she unwinds the scarf, revealing a band of bruises across her neck. A wave of nausea comes over me.

  “I have to get out of town,” she says, simply.

  I nod, too distraught to speak.

  “I don’t know when he’ll get out of jail, but when he does, I need to be gone.”

  “Roman says he won’t get bail. He made sure of it.”

  “His brother has threatened me. He thinks I’m going to testify against him.”

  “You will, right?”

  “Not if Blake has his way.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Her mouth twists into an expression I’ve never seen. I’ve never seen her like this, completely diminished. I can’t help taking a step back from her to gain some distance. It’s like I’m looking at a stranger.

  “I need money.”

  “Of course, you do.” I let out a sigh of relief. “I have a few hundred dollars in my purse.”

  “T
essa, you don’t understand. Brendon’s family wants me gone.” She points to her throat. “This was just a warning, to keep quiet. If I testify against Brendon, I’ll keep myself safe from him, but I’ll be in trouble with the rest of them.”

  “All I have is $400.”

  Her gaze lowers to my hand. “I saw you that night on the news, when you got your ring.”

  Following her gaze, I realize she’s looking at my engagement ring. It looks obscenely huge. I can only imagine how it looks to Chelsea. Decadent. Lavish. Over the top.

  And the answer to her problems.

  She lifts her eyes to mine. “He sure must love you.”

  Her tone is heavy with sarcasm. It feels like getting slapped. Maybe I would say things like that if I were desperate, but still it takes a moment for me to respond. My throat is dry. My heart pounds against my ribs.

  “Does he,” she mocks. “Love you?”

  I part my lips to say something, but before I can, she flings another barb my direction.

  “Has he told you that he loves you?”

  “No,” I whisper. “But-”

  “But what? You think he’s going to marry you? Men like that use girls like toys. As a way to pass the time. He’s not looking for a gutter rat, Tessa.”

  Her words are a blow to my gut, forcing the air from my lungs. “That’s not true.”

  “How much did that rock cost?”

  “I have no idea. I’m not even sure if it’s paid for.”

  She snorts, like that’s the dumbest thing she’s ever heard, and she looks around the penthouse, not moving from her spot. I can see her taking in every detail, like she’s doing a mental inventory. A moment ago, I was looking forward to Chelsea’s visit. Now I just want to get her out of here. The ring feels heavy and cold and I know what she was thinking when she was looking at it.

  I get my coat and purse and return to the foyer. “C’mon, Chels. Let’s go for a walk.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Roman

  What was supposed to be three, maybe four, days in Colombia turned into a week. A week without Tessa. There was a time before I knew Tessa, where a week might have been a normal amount of time for an assignment, but everything’s different now. The last week, I’ve been like a caged animal. Restless. Irritable. An animal who needs his mate.