Trusting the Billionaire (Weston Brothers Book 2)

by C. C. Snow

  “Jesus. Yes,” he uttered fervently and arched his pelvis into my touch. “I love your dirty mouth.”

  Want swamped me at his unabashed desire for me. My hand still on his cock, I straddled him and pressed my open mouth to his chest. My tongue flicked at his salty skin and he raked his hands into my long hair. I moved lower, licking a wet trail down his chest, spending long moments tracing his abs, and then following the small strip of hair until I was inches from his cock.

  He was beautiful. His thick shaft flared into a bulbous head, its slit weeping his arousal. My thumb brushed against his wet crown and he jerked in my hands. I flattened my tongue and licked around the ridge.

  Troy’s fingers pushed my hair back and I looked up at him. His face was tight with need, his eyes narrowed with passion.

  Without looking away from him, I opened my mouth and slurped the head of his cock into my mouth. He tasted hot and male with just a trace of musk.

  “Jesus,” he whispered, his cheeks darkening.

  It wasn’t my first blowjob, but I felt like I was in uncharted territory. In the past, it had always been about having power over a man, but with Troy, all I wanted to do was to give him pleasure. To show him how much I wanted him.

  I started slowly, letting my lips suck gently, gauging his reaction. It felt all the more intimate because our gazes remained locked and I could see every minute shift of his expression. As I took more of him into my mouth, his eyelids drifted lower until he was staring at me through mere slits.

  “Sexy. You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, baby,” he said in a strangled voice.

  Holding him at the base of his cock, I moved him and out of my mouth. His breathing had become raspy and irregular. When I cupped his sac, he grunted and squeezed his eyes closed. I increased the suction of my mouth and rolled his balls in my palm. They were soft and hard at the same time. I could feel his shaft leaking more pre-cum onto my tongue as his hips pulsed against my face. Even in his passion, I could still feel his restraint in how rigidly he held himself. And that made me even hotter. I tightened my lips.

  “Fuck! Baby, I’m coming,” he warned, his muscles stiffening.

  With anyone else, I would have pulled back and finished him off with my hands, but I had wanted to taste him from the moment I touched his hardness in Cora’s foyer. I relaxed my throat and took him a fraction deeper and he came with a shout. His face was indescribably sexy at the moment of his crisis, skin taut and flushed, lips pulled tightly over his teeth in ecstasy. I swallowed, reveling in his silky release, and continued to suck even when he softened.

  “Jesus,” he gasped and tugged at my hair until I let him fall out of my mouth. He dragged me up his body and wrapped his arms around me. His chest was damp with sweat. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

  I burrowed into his chest, shy and pleased at the same time. His heart thumped strongly and rapidly under my ear.

  “I think I’m going to need a few minutes before we move on to part two,” he said drowsily.

  Having him come in my mouth had been a huge turn-on and I was achy again, but I was also content to cuddle with him. I shut my eyes and felt him pull thousand-thread-count sheets and a blanket over us.

  The last thing I felt was a kiss on my forehead.

  Sometime later, I jolted awake and tensed. I felt disoriented, unsure where I was or what woke me up.

  “Shh…it’s me, baby.”

  I relaxed at the sound of Troy’s voice. His hands were caressing my hips. He leaned down to kiss me and moved his hands to my breasts, squeezing them gently. “Time for part two.”

  Instantly aroused at the imagery in my mind, I moaned.

  Troy flipped me onto my stomach, placed a pillow under my hip, and entered me from behind. He felt deeper and fuller from this angle. It didn’t take me long to reach my peak and I screamed into the mattress. Before I fully came down from my high, he was pushing me toward another climax and then another. I lost count, but at the end I could only manage small whimpers as my body shook with pleasure.

  Finally, Troy buried his face into the crook of my neck and exploded in me. Thoroughly exhausted, I fell asleep before he even pulled out of me.

  Chapter 13

  We hardly left his bed on Sunday except to use the bathroom and to get food when we were too hungry. We didn’t spend every minute having sex, but it was damn close. By the time evening fell, I was so sore I was afraid I’d be walking funny for days. Many intimate muscles were protesting after a two-year hiatus.

  I laid my head on Troy’s bicep, my mind still dazed from the last orgasm. He ran his hand up my waist until he reached my breast.

  “I cry mercy,” I moaned, amazed by his stamina.

  He muffled a laugh and pressed a closed-mouth kiss on my lips. “Baby, I’m pretty sure I’m numb below the waist.” He circled his thumb around my nipple, making it pebble. “I just want to touch you. Your skin is so soft.”

  I pushed away his hand. “I’m too sensitive.” He had discovered how much I liked having my breasts stimulated and drove me crazy with his teeth. Now the slightest touch was more pain than pleasure. I wouldn’t be surprised if I still felt tender tomorrow.

  “Sorry, I’ll be gentler next time,” he said, genuine contrition in his voice. “I’ve been fantasizing for months about having you in my bed and I went a little overboard.”

  Despite the ache between my legs, I didn’t regret one minute of it. “It’s not like I was complaining.”

  He tipped my chin to look at him. “Which is why you’re perfect for me.”

  My heart fluttered too fast and my breath hitched. I didn’t know if it was from panic or from pleasure. “I’m far from perfect.”

  “You’re right.” He grinned when I glared at him. “But you’re perfect for me.”

  Panic. It was panic. I couldn’t bear to see his face when he realized how imperfect I was.

  He must have seen my distress because he kissed my nose lightly and asked, “Why don’t we go out for dinner?”

  “Okay,” I assented with alacrity. Maybe being among other people would give me some perspective on the speed and intensity of our connection.

  We took a quick shower—it would’ve been quicker if he didn’t keep distracting me—and got dressed.

  We walked to a small French bistro near his apartment. The food was utterly decadent. Over grilled salmon and veal paillard, we talked about inconsequential things, such as books and movies we liked. Troy liked non-fiction and I liked classical literature, but we both enjoyed action films.

  After our server, Tracy, took away our dinner plates, she brought us the dessert menu. I reviewed the offerings and said with a smirk in my voice, “I think I’ll have the chocolate mousse.”

  Troy choked on a laugh. “Too bad they don’t have panna cotta. I have a particular fondness for the two combined.”

  I grinned and nudged his foot with mine. “That’s only available at Chez Elle.”

  He reached across the table and played with my hand. “I’ve dined there. Definitely three stars.”

  My mouth dropped open in shock at his dirty joke and he chortled. Face reddening, I leaned toward him and whispered, “You are a terrible man.”

  White teeth flashing, he shrugged. “I can’t help it if you keep setting me up for the punch line.”

  “Sporcaccione,” I muttered under my breath.

  “I hope that means ‘come again,’” he said with a naughty lift of one brow.

  I dropped my head in my hand and laughed. When I could speak, I looked up at him and said, “It means you have a filthy mind.”

  He brought my hand to his mouth and kissed the knuckles. “You like my filthy mind.”

  Shaking my head, I pulled my hand back. “Incorreggibile.”

  He pointed a finger at me. “I know what that means.”

  I rolled my eyes and took a sip of my wine to hide my smile. The man was too adorable.

  “I take it you speak Italian fluently?
”

  I scrunched my nose and put down my glass. “Not now, but if I lived there for a few months, then probably. I’ve forgotten a lot of vocabulary since I left school.”

  Tracy came by to take our orders. Instead of getting a dessert, I opted for espresso and Troy asked for a cup of coffee.

  “I took three years of Spanish in high school, but the only words I know now are ‘si’ and ‘gracias,’” he said with a wry grin. “What made you decide to study Italian literature?”

  My smile dimmed and I looked down at the table.

  A finger touched my cheek and I looked up at him.

  His gaze was steady and sympathetic. “Hey, I didn’t mean to make you sad. I was curious.” He smiled. “Remember, I have an Elle fetish.”

  I was beginning to think I had a Troy fetish. I took a deep breath. There were some things I wanted to keep a secret forever, but this I could talk about. Besides, he already knew about how dysfunctional my relationship was with my mother.

  “I thought it was a way to get closer to my mom.” I peered at him under my lashes, wondering if he thought it was as pathetic as it sounded, but his understanding expression gave me the courage to continue. “Growing up, Graziella didn’t speak a lot of Italian. She insisted we were Americans and should communicate in English. Then she met my stepdad, Stefano, who was Italian, when I was a teenager. Suddenly they only spoke in their native tongue and I couldn’t understand anything they said. So I started to take some classes in high school and when I started college, I decided to continue my studies. I thought Graziella would be impressed…” I shrugged.

  “And was she?” he asked softly.

  I shook my head and laughed shortly. “No. I don’t think she even remembers what I majored in. In hindsight, I should have picked a more practical major like business.” Years ago, I had cried over her indifference, but I had since learned to not expect anything from her. That way I wouldn’t be disappointed.

  He pinched his lips and slid across the semicircular booth until he sat next to me. Curving his arm around my waist he leaned down to kiss me briefly on the lips. “Well, I’m pretty damn impressed. And I don’t think you’ve thought of the advantages of having a degree in Italian,” he said.

  “Oh, and what’s that?”

  He tilted his head to whisper in my ear, “You get to talk dirty to me in a foreign language.”

  I closed my eyes and felt a smile form on my lips. This man…my God…this man felt like the antidote to my fucked up life. Just as I began to sink into a pit of self-pity, he said something that made me feel light and airy. “I see how it benefits you, but I’m at a loss as to how that benefits me.”

  “Baby, if you don’t know how it will benefit you, I haven’t done my job last night and today.” He slid a hand up my inner thigh.

  I grabbed his wrist, my eyes darting around the restaurant to make sure nobody saw him groping me in public. I pointed to the other side of the booth and said sternly, “Go back to your side.”

  With a grin, he scooted away. “Spoilsport.”

  We finished our drinks and strolled back to his place, holding hands. It was one of those rare nights in Chicago—cold, but not windy. I inhaled through my mouth, relishing the way the air chilled my lungs. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt this free and…happy.

  A sudden thought made me halt and peer at him. “Oh shit.”

  He stopped and frowned at me. “What’s wrong, baby?”

  “I told Cora I wasn’t going to date you because it was a conflict of interest.” I covered my mouth with my hands. “Oh God! What’s she going to think of me?”

  He cleared his throat. “I already told her yesterday.”

  My eyes rounded. “What?”

  “When I dropped Aiden off, I told her I was taking you out on a date. I didn’t want you to walk into an awkward situation at work.”

  “Oh. What did she say?” I asked nervously.

  He shrugged. “She and Jake are fine with it. Why wouldn’t they be?” He looked truly puzzled.

  “Geez, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re my boss.”

  “Didn’t Cora tell you how she and my brother met?”

  I puckered my brow, unease sitting heavily in my gut. “Yes, but…”

  “But what?”

  “What if I suck at my job and she won’t say anything because we’re seeing each other? This complicates everything.” I chewed on my lip.

  He blew out a breath of exasperation and grabbed my hands. “Baby, do you want Cora to fire you?”

  “No!”

  “Do you want to find another job?”

  “Maybe.” I frowned, hating the thought of quitting a job I liked and going back to work for an asshole like Tony again. Maybe it was time to re-evaluate what I wanted to do with my life. It wasn’t that I didn’t like being Cora’s PA, but in a few years, when the kids started school, she wouldn’t need an extra pair of hands. At that point I could move on to another assistant position, but I wasn’t sure I would enjoy working for another person in the same capacity. There was something special about Cora and her son.

  “Do you want me to transfer you to another department at Weston?”

  “Absolutely not,” I said. “I’m not going to have you pull any strings for me. Besides, I like working for Cora.”

  “Baby, I don’t see the problem.” He sounded bewildered.

  I rolled my eyes. Typical man. Things were always so black-and-white for them. “Never mind.” Whatever I decided, I’d give Cora plenty of notice.

  He took my hand and started walking again. “My parents are coming back from their trip on Wednesday.”

  “Did they have a good time?”

  “I’m sure they did. And I’m sure they bought a million presents for Aiden.”

  “God, I hope they didn’t buy him any musical instruments.” I mock shuddered. “I love that kid, but I think he has a tin ear.”

  He chuckled at my joke. “We’re going over to their house on Saturday to have a family dinner.”

  “That’s nice,” I said lamely, the concept of a family dinner as foreign as the terrain on Pluto. “I’m sure they missed you guys.”

  “Come with me.”

  Feeling gobsmacked by the invitation, I dropped his hand and gasped, “What?”

  His eyes locked on my face. “Come to dinner with me.”

  Panic rushed through me. “No!” My palms grew clammy and I swiped them on my jeans.

  The idea of sitting down for a family dinner was scary enough. The thought of meeting Troy’s parents—his very normal, loving parents—made my pulse gallop wildly. Ten minutes into the meal and they’d realize what a freak I was. Realize I wasn’t good enough for their son.

  “Why not?”

  God, I was beginning to think it was his favorite question in the world. And my least.

  “I can’t. It’s too soon. We only started dating and…” I knew I was babbling incoherently, but my nerves were jangling. I waggled my head. “And meeting your parents…I can’t.” I was on the verge of hyperventilating, my breaths sawing audibly out of my mouth.

  “Shh…” Troy pulled me in for a hug, pressing my face into his shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you.”

  I clung a little too tightly, hating that I had so many issues. We had been dating for twenty-four hours and I already sucked at this. I wondered how long it would take before I fucked this up. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak out.”

  “It’s my fault. I’m getting ahead of myself.” He bent his head and kissed me.

  Sighing in relief, I kissed him back and felt my anxiety recede.

  He eased away. “How about dinner tomorrow?”

  I shook my head. “Ethan is off work on Mondays and we normally hang out.”

  He sighed, looking frustrated. “I have an audit starting Tuesday so I’ll have to work pretty late for the week.”

  I tried to fend off my disappointment, telling myself the dista
nce would be good for me. The last forty-eight hours had been fast and intense.

  “Are you free Sunday?” he asked and started to walk toward his apartment again.

  “Yes.”

  “How about I pick you up on Saturday after the dinner and we’ll spend Sunday together?”

  “Yes, I’d like that.” I smiled.

  “Good.” He pressed his lips to my ear and whispered, “By then, I’ll have a whole new list of fantasies I want to try out.”

  I pressed my face into his neck, my belly doing a little flip.

  Chapter 14

  Troy

  “I want to take Carter Nichols down.”

  Jake looked up from his computer in surprise. “What did you say?”

  I lowered myself into the chair across from him. “Remember our conversation about the SC ports in Asia?”

  He nodded and leaned back in his chair, his eyes assessing. “I thought we were going to give Nichols some leeway to get the company on its feet.”

  “I don’t think we should wait.”

  My brother cocked his head. “Why?”

  “You’ve met him. The guy is an arrogant prick.” I had disliked Nichols from the very beginning. During our conference call, he had been rudely dismissive of his lieutenants’ opinions and condescending to his assistant. That told me the guy was insecure and egotistical. And he was worse in person. “Do you really think he’s going to turn the ship around?”

  “No, but I don’t think that’s why you’re gunning for this guy,” Jake said slowly, his eyes on my face. “What’s really going on, little brother?”

  Remembering the bruises on Elle’s slender wrist, I felt every muscle in my body harden. I took a deep breath and released it slowly. “The bastard hurt Elle.”

  “How does Elle know Nichols?” he asked, looking puzzled.

  “Elle was involved with him when she lived in New York.” The thought of that bastard looking at her, touching her, made me shake with rage. I described the scene outside my office and the bruises I found on her wrist. “She played it off as an accident, but there were fucking fingerprints, Jake.”