by Aubrey Dark
Mr. Black's Proposal (Part Two: A Billionaire Erotic Romance)
Aubrey Dark
(2015)
* * *
”Lucas Black is no angel.”
I don’t date players. I don’t date a**holes. And Lucas Black, gorgeous billionaire and heir to the Black Media empire, is both.
So I am NOT dating him.
Not even if he hires me so he can order me around like a servant girl on a leash. Not even if he looks at me like he wants to rip my clothes off with his eyes. Not even if he pushes the line with me, farther and farther.
Not even if I’m starting to like it…
Stephanie Hart learned the hard way: Never depend on a man for anything. She’s the one in charge of her business, her family, AND her love life. Until Mr. Black shows up…
Lucas Black never met a pretty girl he didn’t want to fck. Problem is, Steph Hart isn’t a girl to be fcked with. If she didn’t have such delicious curves, he might be able to forget her…
Will Lucas be able to tame Steph into submission before he loses her forever?
**
MR. BLACK’S PROPOSAL
A BILLIONAIRE EROTIC ROMANCE PART TWO
By
Aubrey Dark
Grab Mr. Black’s Proposal Part One if you missed it!
Copyright © 2015 Aubrey Dark
All rights reserved.
First Edition: May 2015
ISBN: TBD
Book Two
Steph
“Don’t move.”
His voice is an order I can’t help but follow.
My body stills, my every nerve vibrating with anticipation. My thighs are already wet when he slips his hand between them and I moan.
“Lucas—”
But that was all I can say before he thrusts his fingers into me.
The world goes white.
I gasp, trying to find my breath in this stifling air. Explosions of pleasure shoot through my body as his fingers stretch me, touch me in the most tender spots.
I can’t see him behind me, but I don’t have to. His mouth is against my neck, sucking hard. Oh, God. He’s going to leave marks and I don’t even care, not one bit. I’m his, his his, and he can do whatever he wants to me as long as he finishes what he’s started.
I moan as he sucks and licks the skin on my neck, even as his fingers stretch me. Strong fingers. Everything about him is strong. I thought before that I was a strong woman, but now that he has me in his arms, I’m starting to realize just how weak I can be, at least when it comes to him.
His fingers pulse against me and I start to buck forward with my hips.
No.
I stop myself just in time. His tongue curls around my earlobe and his breath tickles me.
“Good girl,” he whispers, and I nearly melt with the sound of his voice. “Don’t move.”
Chapter One
Steph
I was back home in New York City, and the stand mixer still wasn’t working. I bent over to see if my tried-and-true repair method of jiggling wires had fixed anything. A cloud of flour came puffing out of the bowl and into my face.
“Fuck,” I swore. I ran my hand back through my hair, the flour coming out like baby powder onto the floor.
“Hey, big sister!”
I jumped up in surprise and knocked my head against a shelf. I winced.
“Ow!”
Andy sat on the counter, his legs swinging.
“How was Paris?”
“Jesus, Andy, you scared me,” I said. My heart was still pounding.
“Sorry. I brought you a latte.” He held out the coffee apologetically.
“Just put it there, okay?” I said, rubbing the top of my head. I hoped there wouldn’t be too bad of a bump there. “I have to fix this.”
“You can’t fix it. It’s way broken. That’s what Mike said.”
“Who’s Mike?”
“He’s an appliance guy. I asked him to come repair the mixer, and he looked at it and said it needed a new rod. He’s coming back to fix it tomorrow.”
“Hey, wait! I didn’t okay that. How much is he charging?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” I stared at Andy in confusion.
“I met him at a gay bar,” Andy explained. “He was looking for a new rod, too, if you know what I mean.”
“Eww! Eww! Stop!”
I put my hands over my ears. I did not need to know the details of my little brother’s sex life.
“So, tell me… how was Paris?” Andy said.
“It was… fine.”
I didn’t tell him about Lucas sliding between my thighs, his tongue as hot as the sun. I didn’t tell him about being tied up to a hotel bed, screaming over and over again as my orgasm ripped through me. One night, he’d said. Well, the night was over, and I was going to try to forget about all of what had happened between us.
I only hoped that Lucas would be willing to forget, too..
Andy raised one disbelieving eyebrow at me. I couldn’t meet his eyes.
“Fine?” he asked.
“Fine.”
“Did you have fun?” he asked, drawing out the last word.
“Yes. Lacey’s engaged.”
“No way! To that billionaire guy?”
“Yep.” I had almost forgotten that the proposal was the real reason I’d gone over to Paris. Not for Lucas. Definitely not for Lucas.
“That was fast. Do you think she really likes him?”
“Of course. She said yes, didn’t she?”
“Well, sure. But wouldn’t you?”
I arched an eyebrow at Andy.
“You think she said yes because of the money?” I asked.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Yeah, but that’s what you meant.”
“It was awfully quick, is all,” he said, spreading his hands.
“Lacey wouldn’t do that. She’s not the gold digger type.”
“Yeah.”
I gulped, thinking about Lucas. Was I a gold digger? Belle had warned me to stay away from him. What would she think if she knew?
No. She wouldn’t know anything. Lucas wouldn’t tell anyone. As long as I kept it a secret—
“What is it?”
I looked up to see Andy staring at me.
“What?” I said.
“I have sibling worry radar. What’s wrong?”
I licked my lips nervously and started washing a bowl in the sink.
“Nothing.”
“You can’t lie to me, Steph.”
“I’m not lying to you.”
“Yeah? Then why are you washing a bowl that’s already clean?”
I put the bowl back down on the counter and marched out to the front of the shop to wipe down the display case glass. It was already clean, too. I wondered if Andy had convinced his new boytoy to clean up the bakery while he was at it.
Andy followed me out to the front of the store. The sunlight was starting to come in, and the early work crowd was trickling by outside of the window.
“Steph…” he said, in a singsong tone.
“It’s nothing,” I said.
“Nothing?”
“Jet lag.”
“Is it that Lucas guy?”
I wanted to hide, but I couldn’t lie to my brother’s face.
“Yes,” I said. “No. Maybe.”
“Is it serious?”
“No!” I said quickly. “Definitely not serious. It’s nothing.”
“You’re not going to get married in Paris next week?”
“No!” My face burned with embarrassment. “It
’s nothing. Really.”
“Mmmhmm,” Andy said.
I scrubbed the glass harder, ignoring the fact that the display was spotless. Andy ignored it, too. He crossed his arms and waited. Finally, I blew out an impatient breath.
“Can you get the orange sugar set up in the back for the birthday cake?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said. Before he left, his eyes flicked over to the front door. I heard the doorbell jingle.
“Heads up,” Andy said. “Here comes your nothing.”
“My what?” I stood up, confused, and looked over to the front entryway. I was met by the now-familiar sight of tousled gold hair and brilliant blue eyes. My mouth went dry.
Lucas.
I stared at Lucas.
“Hello,” he said. His hands were in his pockets as he ambled forward. His white button-down was wrinkled, I noticed. “I’d like to order one chocolate cupcake, please.”
“Why are you here?” I asked.
“Why am I here? Why are you here?” Lucas asked. His eyebrows were blond, too, and they drew together into a frown.
“I told you yesterday that I had to go.”
“You told me that while I was in bed. I thought you were going to the bathroom.”
Lucas leaned his elbows over the counter, propping his chin up.
“Well, I wasn’t,” I said nervously. “I was going back home.”
I’d raced out of the Paris hotel with my purse and left everything behind, including my dignity. Staying wasn’t an option. How could I stay in bed with a man I didn’t even really know? It had all been a terrible mistake, and my chest tightened when I thought about it.
“You just decided to up and leave.”
“I told you I could only stay one night,” I insisted. “And it was already getting late in the morning, so I took your plane.”
“I know that,” Lucas said, his frown deepening. “I found that out when I got to the airport.”
“Sorry,” I said, although I wasn’t. I couldn’t have afforded a plane ticket, and I wouldn’t even have gone to Paris if Lucas hadn’t conned me into it.
“I had to fly commercial. Do you know how horrible it is to fly commercial? They make you wear pants.”
He looked distressed at the thought of wearing pants on a plane, and the image of his naked butt came unbidden to my mind. His gorgeous, sculpted, naked butt. I blinked it away.
“How terrible for you,” I said in a sarcastic monotone.
“Half the fun of being in a jet plane is being naked in a jet plane.” He picked up a business card from the front counter and twirled it in his fingers. I stood there watching him. I had no idea what he was doing here in the front of my bakery again. “Did you make the pilot do any dives?”
“In the plane? No!”
“I love doing dives. It feels like you’re floating.”
“Lucas—”
“Come back with me to my apartment.”
His eyes met mine, and I felt a rush of sudden heat between my legs. I hated that he had the power to melt my body. I looked away from him, unwilling to let him bully me again.
“Why would I go back to your apartment?” I asked, pressing my lips together.
“I think you know why,” Lucas said.
“Tell me.”
Andy walked back to the front with a box of cupcakes in his hands and a sneaky look on his face.
“For the party,” Lucas said. “I changed the apartment decor and I’d like you to see it.”
“Oh, are you doing that today?” Andy asked me. I screamed a little on the inside as he continued. “I can run the shop, no problem—”
“No.” I spun back to Lucas. “I had other plans for today.”
“Change them,” he said. “This is important.”
“All of my clients are important,” I said, with such forced politeness my eyes were nearly bugging out of my head.
“It’s fine, Steph,” Andy said. He raised his hand to push a strand of hair aside and gave me an exaggerated wink from behind his palm.
I blew air through my teeth. How could my brother be misreading this situation so badly?
Lucas put his hand on mine, pinning my wrist to the counter. His thumb stroked the inside of my palm, sending fireworks up my arm. I hated this, hated that he could get me aroused with a single touch. I snapped my mouth shut and stared at him with a look that I hoped showed pure hatred.
“I am so excited to work professionally with you on this project,” Lucas said.
“Professionally?” I repeated.
“Perfectly professionally.”
I eyeballed him. Was he being serious?
“Shall we go? My car’s waiting.”
He was being serious. Or, at least, as serious as Lucas Black ever got.
“Have fun, Steph!” Andy said, clapping me on the shoulder. My eyelashes fluttered as I looked up to the ceiling. I wasn’t much for prayers, but if God was listening, I hoped he would intervene.
Lord, save me from Lucas Black.
Chapter Two
Lucas
I led Stephanie to the car, one hand on her back. She swatted me away when my hand drifted down to her ass.
I didn’t know what had come over her. The night we’d spent together in Paris had been amazing. She was all softness and curves, the perfect size. When she’d drifted off to sleep in my arms, I stayed awake for a while to watch her dream. That beautiful blonde hair draped over the pillow, those red-blonde eyelashes fluttering softly on her cheeks. Cream thighs, perfectly plump hips, and full pink lips that begged for more kisses.
Now those full pink lips were pursed in a scowl at me.
“Will you stop trying to touch my ass?” she said, as she climbed into the car and batted my hand away one more time.
“Maybe if your ass wasn’t so sexy,” I said, eyeing the smooth curve of her skirt as she slid into the seat.
“You said you would be professional.”
Right. I had said that, hadn’t I? Well, I would have said anything to spend more time with her. Even if she was playing hard to get.
“Why are you being so standoffish?” I asked, revving the engine before pulling away from the curb.
“Standoffish?”
“You didn’t protest nearly this much when my tongue was between your thighs.”
The color of her face was as close to beet red as I’d ever seen. I sped through a yellow light. I didn’t want to stop, in part because she looked like she might jump out of the car at any second.
“Lucas, you can’t—we can’t—”
“I can. We did.”
“Lucas—”
“Why did you run away from me in Paris?”
“I didn’t run away. I had a business to attend to.”
“That’s an excuse.”
“And spending the night with you was a mistake.”
“A mistake?”
My pulse jumped a beat. I’d never been called a mistake before.
“A mistake I don’t plan on repeating,” she said. She crossed her leg away from me, and whatever reply I had been formulating in my mind disappeared with the sight of her creamy thigh peeking out from under her black skirt. She saw me looking and gave a huff as she pulled the fabric down to cover herself.
“And I don’t appreciate you showing up with a lie about redecorating so you can pull me away from work and try to play grabass with me.”
“I’m not lying,” I said. It hurt me a bit that she thought I was.
“Really? You decided to change the decor of your apartment the day before you left for Paris?” She rolled her eyes.
“No. I decided to change it the day you came and told me it looked like a bachelor pad.”
Her eyes went a little wider. I liked the way her lips parted, showing a glint of white teeth. It took all my effort to keep driving into the garage without letting my hand run over her thigh. I didn’t know if she was really just playing hard to get or if she really thought that sleeping with me had been a m
istake. Either way, I’d have to win her back.
“What did you change?”
I turned off the ignition and smiled at her.
“I can’t wait to show you.”
As we walked through the door, I saw my apartment through her eyes. The arching white ceiling, the minimalist decor. Some people described it as harsh. I could see how she had thought of it as a bachelor pad. But hopefully the additions I’d made would show her that I had a bit more taste.
Alex had left the bottle of Cabernet on the table in the foyer like I’d asked him. I went and poured two glasses of wine for us quickly. As I held out the glass to her, she squinted at it.
“Wine?”
“Not just wine,” I said. “It’s the Chateau D’Oise Cabernet from 1992.”
“It’s before noon.”
“It’s the best vintage they have.”
“It’s before noon,” she repeated.
“We’re both still on Paris time,” I insisted. She took the glass of Cab reluctantly. Once she had her first sip, though, she murmured in approval.
“You have new statues,” she said. She looked at the two Grecian angels in the entryway. I beamed. I’d had them brought over from a vintage store downtown. The white marble went nicely with the rest of the apartment, I thought, and it gave it a bit more personality.
She walked around the statue, her eyebrows raised at the female angel.
“Nude statues.”
“New nude statues,” I said. “They’re from Greece.”
“Okay,” she said, giving me a crooked smile. “What else?”
“I put up some of my photography in the main living room where the party will be.”
“Your photographs?” She seemed really interested.
“You bet! Come check it out.”
I led her through to the main living room. When she looked up at the walls, her jaw dropped.
“Do you like it?” I asked hopefully.
She closed her mouth, then opened it. Then closed it again, then opened it.
“Steph?”
“It’s… they’re all… um…”
She waved her hands at the photographs. I looked up at the large prints.
“What?” I asked.
“They’re all naked.”