Just like Grey (Series ONE Complete Set): Billionaire Romance

by Jessie Cooke

  “Did you know that?” she asked. “Or were the shoes just a lucky guess?”

  She could feel his hardness growing where she straddled him, and she pushed down upon it teasing herself along with him.

  “Lucky guess,” he mumbled. “Just wanted to see you in them almost exactly like I’m seeing you now. Only less clothing.”

  Bella glided her torso upwards against him, his lips brushing her belly still full from dinner. She lowered herself again just enough for him to take a nipple into his mouth. He sipped at her skin, her breast, and then he tongued her nipple, causing it to harden and strain. She pushed herself off of him and stood to remove her thong, still leaving the pink pumps in place.

  “Was this more of what you were imagining?” she asked.

  “Even better,” Reece said, and he caught her around her thighs and brought her to him, tumbling her to the bed.

  Within seconds he had ripped off his shirt and was peeling off his trousers revealing black mesh briefs that held a package Bella was dying to unwrap. He pounced on the bed, his arms and legs on each side of Bella’s body, and he began to run his tongue the length of her body from navel to neck. Bella preened, leaving her neck long and exposed, and Reece knew it was her request of him, so he sipped and nibbled on one side, made his way to the hollow of her throat, allowing his tongue to play in the pool there before he moved his mouth to the other side. All the while, Bella could feel the heat and silky sweat as it rose on her skin. She was writhing on the bed, her body aching to make contact with his once again. He took a knee and spread her legs apart, her outer leg responding by rubbing the length of his leg. She pushed her pelvis forward to feel his firmness against her, the position of her legs leaving her open for his touch.

  And touch is just what Reece was going for. He knew her body now; knew each invitation that was presented in her movements. His fingers glided to the slick opening she had directed him to, and Bella responded with a welcoming moan. He found the spot he wanted, the spot she had wanted him to find, and pressed gently, her hips bucking with pleasure.

  Bella reached out and caressed Reece through the mesh fabric of his briefs.

  “You’re driving me wild,” he said.

  “Then do something about it,” came her response.

  He fumbled in the top drawer of the bedside table for a condom, and quickly and expertly dressed himself for the occasion. After returning to her breasts, his mouth sought hers in a hard, fanatical kiss.

  “I want you inside me,” Bella said softly, her blue eyes begging more than her voice.

  The final invitation murmured, Reece slowly thrust forward, letting Bella guide him at her own pace into the depths of her core.

  “Look at me,” he directed Bella when she had closed her eyes overcome with the sensations. “I want to see your eyes.”

  Bella’s blue eyes locked onto his dark ones, and they matched each other’s rhythm within seconds. He felt her grip tighten around him, and together they caught the wave that pulsed through their bodies and crashed within them with the white heat of stars.

  They lay entangled, Reece’s head resting on Bella’s chest. A bead of sweat escaped from his head and dripped down onto her, and she felt it slide down the side of her body.

  There was no turning back now. She’d known this would happen. Hell, it practically had already. Somehow and someway, Bella had fallen for this masked man even before he brought her here for a proper weekend. She knew all she needed to know in their first moments: his kindness; his chivalry; his tenderness, all for a perfect stranger.

  Like Nicky had innocently pointed out: if he does so much for someone he doesn’t know well, think of what he’d do for those he deeply loves.

  Reece couldn’t sleep. His body was spent. His muscles tired from the drive and a second round of steamy love-making with Bella. She’d awakened in the middle of the night to get a glass of water, returned to find him staring up at the ceiling, and one thing had led to another. The girl was definitely proving to be a tiger in more than one way . . . not that he was complaining.

  But he knew he’d be enjoying himself more if the Nicky scenario didn’t exist.

  What am I gonna do? he asked himself for what must have been the hundredth time.

  Growing up in a single-parent family, Reece knew the struggle that his mother had faced as a woman who chose her son and daughter over the man who had fathered them. When Carlota had told Steve she was pregnant, he had abruptly told her to get rid of it, but somehow she’d convinced them that they could be a family; used that magical way of words she’d always had. And when Marie had come along, it had worked . . . for a while. Their father had been smitten with her from the get-go, and she eased into the role of Daddy’s Little Girl. He’d even stopped spending all of his disability compensation checks on booze for three years . . . until Carlota had wound up pregnant again, and the drinking started back up.

  After refusing to terminate the second pregnancy and returning home one night after work only to find Steve “entertaining” when he was supposed to be babysitting, Carlota threw him out before he even had a chance to sober up. She also threatened to cut off his balls if he ever tried to have anything to do with her family again.

  Taking Carlota at her word and too in love with the drink, Steve had abided by her wishes. Therefore, Reece never met the man who fathered him, had only seen his father in old family photo albums. And he had sworn that he’d never be that kind of father if he ever had any kids of his own.

  But here he was, lying in bed beside the woman who had rocked his very soul, opened him up and peered inside of him unlike any other woman had ever been able to do . . . but another woman back in Dallas carried his child . . . and she just happened to be Bella’s best friend.

  18

  The weekend passed more quickly than Bella had hoped, and she felt more treasured, more coveted than ever in her life. A string ensemble came to the house to accompany a simple meal cooked by Reese. He fed her grapes as she bathed in the large Jacuzzi. He massaged her like a professional masseuse would have, and took her out to the docks for the best seafood she’d ever eaten, bib, crab crackers, and all.

  Their sex had sent her to the moon and beyond. Just when she thought she’d never have another orgasm as cataclysmic, Reece would surpass his previous performance. She knew she glowed; she could feel the sparkle within, remnants from their moments together. But it wasn’t just the physical. She had to grant it to him: he was right. He could woo a woman like no other man she’d ever known, and he surprised her over and over again with his thoughtfulness. She liked this tender side.

  No, admit it, she thought. You love this tender side.

  And the thought crossed her mind that, if Reece Hamilton was all he said he was and all he appeared to be, she could see herself spending the rest of her life with this man.

  Bella felt the Porsche slow to a stop, and she opened her eyes to see a dark sky, her own home looming against it.

  “Home already?” she asked.

  Reece leaned over and kissed her tenderly.

  “It is too bad,” he said. “The time went by too quickly. I only wish we could do it all over again.”

  Bella turned her profile towards him to look at him straight on.

  “Me too, and I wouldn’t change a thing except this part.”

  He caressed a strand of her long brown hair away from her face.

  “I know we had a deal,” Reece began, “but I don’t want to spoil the weekend or the moment. I want to give you some space—if I can keep myself from you—and I want you to think about two things: moving into the townhome and seeing me—only me.”

  “But what about Nick--“

  “Sshh,” Reece said as he placed his finger over her lips. “I don’t want to talk about it now. Don’t spoil this. We’ll talk about it later. I’ll just say that I would love to take care of you, Bella . . . if you’ll let me.”

  She turned her body towards him.

  “You took c
are of me very well this weekend,” she purred, “in several ways.”

  “I’ll do that every day. Just say the word.”

  Reece caught her face in his hands and pulled her to him. His mouth closed on hers tightly, and Bella caught the faintest scent of salt air mixed in with his sandalwood. She backed off quicker than she wanted.

  “I don’t want Christo to see. He doesn’t know yet,” Bella explained.

  “I understand,” Reece complied. “I’ll call you tomorrow. I don’t think I can go that long without hearing your voice.”

  “Thank you for everything. The weekend was . . . magical, for lack of a better word.”

  He kissed her again, this time sweetly, reserving his passion.

  “You are a magical woman, Bella Ryan.”

  When she entered the door, Christo tried to pretend he hadn’t been spying. Bella wasn’t too worried. Even if he had, she was pretty sure it was too dark and the car had been too far away for him to recognize the man behind the wheel.

  “Well, well, well,” Christo drawled. “Look what the cat dragged in.” He smiled at her mischievously.

  “How was your weekend?” Bella asked.

  “Grand, but from the looks of it, your weekend bested mine. A Porsche Boxster?” Christo switched into a Latino accent. “Little Bella, you have some ‘splaining to do.”

  “I know, but not now. I’m beat. How about a breakfast date tomorrow? I’ll get up and fix us the whole shebang. Then, we’ll both spill the beans.”

  Christo’s hand flew to his throat dramatically.

  “What in the world do I have to tell?”

  Bella wasn’t buying it.

  “I think you know,” she said, and she sniffed the air. “It smells in here faintly of . . . I don’t know . . . another man.”

  Christo gave her a shocked look.

  “How did you know?”

  She smiled.

  “I have my ways. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  “Does this mean you won’t pose for me?” Christo asked, suddenly worried.

  “No,” she asserted. “We made a deal, and a promise is a promise. I’ll pose. In fact, the sooner the better. Maybe we can get that out of the way sometime tomorrow, too.”

  Christo jumped up from the sofa, clapped his hands, and then threw his arms around Bella.

  “I’m so excited for breakfast. I have so much to tell you, and it’s been so hard keeping secrets.”

  Tell me about it, Bella thought.

  The next morning Bella accidentally overslept. She rushed to fix a quick breakfast for herself and Christo with the promise that they would talk more after work. Christo had to admit he was a little relieved since he didn’t deal well with confrontation on a morning stomach.

  At work she received compliment after compliment.

  “Did you do something different with your hair? It looks good.”

  “You look so rested and alert. The very picture of youth!”

  “Been working out? Lookin’ good, there, girlie.”

  She knew it had to be Reece, though. He had brought a light to her life, and she could feel it radiating throughout her entire being. She stopped herself a few times from calling him, just so she could hear his voice, but she didn’t want to appear pushy or desperate or unsure. She was fairly certain she knew what she wanted, but to let him know now might make her seem flighty. Plus, she wanted to give him plenty of time to break it off with Nicky and get all of that out of the picture.

  The thought of Nicky made her pause and wonder why she hadn’t heard anything from her friend. Something as devastating as a break-up would have warranted a phone call in the very least, and that made Bella nervous that perhaps Reece hadn’t taken care of his side of the agreement yet.

  Give him time, a voice in her head cautioned her. It’s a delicate matter, and Nicky isn’t the easiest person to tell bad news to. Let him do it in his own way. The easier he lets her down, the better it is for everyone.

  Bella almost texted her friend to probe, but she thought she’d better leave well enough alone.

  She shook her head. It was time to focus on work. All of her personal stuff could wait. Her projects were piling up, and she was on the road to becoming full time. Her boss Rita had been dropping hints and throwing praise her way. Now was not the time to shirk her duties and get slack on the job.

  After a long day, Bella sighed as she walked into the back door. She dropped her satchel and kicked off her pumps, looking forward to a large glass of red wine to unwind. When she walked into the living room, the furniture had been moved so that the sofa was directly in front of the fireplace as a centerpiece. Christo’s easel, charcoals, and paints were set up with a drop cloth underneath to protect the carpet. His studio softlight was casting a white glow on the sofa, and two goblets of wine—a smallish one on a table beside the easel, a larger one on a small table next to the sofa—drew Bella into the scene.

  Bella let a loud moan of exasperation escape, fully intending for Christo to hear her. He appeared from the back of the house as if summoned.

  “What?” he asked innocently.

  “I am not in the mood,” Bella answered, though she had made her way over to the goblet of wine and was taking a long sip.

  Christo approached and pulled back her long hair, stroking the strands as he spoke.

  “Now, now, we both know you’re never gonna be ‘in the mood’ for this little endeavor. But, well, our breakfast confessional flopped, and you did mention perhaps doing this tonight. My schedule is clear; your schedule is clear. Why not go ahead and get this going? I don’t want to keep my client waiting.”

  Bella took another big gulp of the wine, hoping that it would make her relax a little quicker.

  “Isn’t this sort of tawdry and—I don’t know—weird? I’m simply gonna sit here, completely stark naked? Who wants a picture of me sitting on our sofa in my birthday suit?”

  Christo laughed lightly.

  “Oh, Bella. Your feigned naivety is not going to get you out of this, my dear. I’ll focus on your body and the lines. I was hoping the sofa we could create together after the fact. You know, something really classy and decadent? Use those awesome design skills of yours to make it just the right combination of sexy and refined. The background is going to be a matte black, more like simple shadows. Maybe a doorway.”

  Bella sighed with resignation as she began to unzip her high-waist pencil skirt and let it drop to the floor. She promptly kicked it to the side as she pulled the heather grey sweater over her head and tossed it over to the skirt.

  “Let’s get this over with,” Bella mumbled, and she threw herself on the sofa, face up, arms stretched over her head and draped over the armrests of the sofa.

  “That’s actually pretty good,” Christo said, “but not exactly what my client specified.”

  “Geez, this guy is a Nazi,” Bella replied.

  “No, I think he just has a very clear vision and wants it captured just right. Now, sit up.”

  Bella sighed a little pout and hauled herself to a seated position.

  “I’ll let you keep your undies on until I say so,” Christo said. “How’s that for a little professional courtesy?”

  “Fine,” Bella commented without feeling.

  Christo went to work tilting and moving, straightening and sliding her limbs and hair and profile until he had it just right. She felt like his mannequin doll, and the pose was stiff for her, but she knew that it would translate beautifully on canvas. She sat facing Christo with her body slightly turned to the left. Her legs were slightly opened with her right leg curved back, her heel up. Her left hand rested on her left thigh, and her neck and back arched as she looked into the distance to her left. Her right hand rested on her left clavicle leaving her palm at the pool of her throat. She was most thankful for the fact that this pose would force her little belly to seem almost nonexistent as it elongated her torso for the painting. She was also glad that one breast, thanks to the arm that draped ac
ross, would be covered, so she removed her bra, feeling a little less inhibited due to the fast work of the wine.

  “So, who should start the confessional?” Bella asked.

  “Why don’t you tell me what you think you know?” Christo challenged. “Then we’ll go from there.”

  “What I think I know is that you have a boyfriend, someone serious, someone whom I have yet to meet for some reason, and someone who has been in this position for over a month now.”

  “Going on three,” Christo confessed.

  “Three months?!” Bella turned a shocked face towards him.

  “See, the great thing about having this conversation while I’m painting you is that you have to be still. No evil eyes, no pouty lips.” He walked over to her and put her profile back into place. “Don’t move,” he said as he kissed the top of her head.

  “Where did you meet him?” Bella asked.

  “OK Cupid.”

  “The online site?”

  “Yep. I was feeling a little low, trolling the internet, stumbled across it, and thought ‘What the hell? I’ve not had the best luck the so-called ‘traditional’ ways, so I gave it a shot.”

  She could hear Christo’s pencil scrapping the canvas as he sketched out curves and lines as a guide for the portrait.

  “Name?” she asked.

  “Simon.”

  “Occupation?”

  “Environmental law.”

  “Oooohhh,” she gushed. “A smart guy who wants to save the world. Where’s he from?”

  “Originally from Denver. Came here for school and loved it, so he stayed. Played lacrosse on scholarship at Southwestern, now he works for McDougan-Flannery and Associates.”

  “Very nice, and what does he think about your little side business? You know, painting naked women and men.”

  “He’s very understanding, says he loves my free spirit and wants me to develop my work enough not to have to do it, but he respects the art of body painting as well.”

  “So, why did you keep him secret?” Bella finally asked. “I’m your best friend. I should be meeting him, granting my approval or disproval, hanging out and getting the low down.”