The Billionaire Next Door

by Jessica Lemmon

  And now she couldn’t breathe.

  He smiled at her reaction—unadulterated want she had no doubt was reflecting in her eyes. He wrapped his hands around her and unhooked her bra. Her gasp this time had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with her nerves. This was it. Really, really it. No running from her desires this time unless she wanted to stand stark naked in the hallway.

  “Breathe.” He took off her bra and she breathed, feeling his eyes dance along her bare breasts though he still hadn’t touched them.

  “But the real fun will come”—he worked her panties down her thighs, keeping his eyes on hers as he slipped them from her legs—“when you open your legs and let me kiss you there.” His gaze snaked down her body and she pressed her thighs together.

  “I’m really bad at that, too,” she said quickly. Because her ex hadn’t enjoyed going down on her, and she couldn’t blame him. It had never seemed very sexy to her. She’d only ever panted and moaned to make him think she was done.

  “Then that’s where we’ll start.” Tag’s mouth parted into a grin that was positively drugging. He kissed her and she caught his head, feeding her fingers into his hair as he lifted and laid her flat on the couch. Her heart thudded out an SOS.

  This was a bad idea.

  “No,” she said between kisses. He backed off immediately with his mouth, but his fingers pinched and pulled each of her nipples. A ripple of satisfaction tore through her, and before she’d meant to, her back was arching and she was crying out in pleasure.

  “Funny, that didn’t sound like a no.” He gave her an affected, confused expression and moved his fingers between her legs.

  “Tag…” But no words followed.

  “Yes or no, Rachel.” He hesitated and left her dangling from the ledge where desire met danger. “I’ll do whatever you say.”

  His insistent touch was too much for her to deny. He wanted to know her, and she wanted to know him. Like, biblically.

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  “Have you imagined me here?” He stroked her center, finding her clit and moving over the tender bud. His touch was rough, firm—absolutely perfect. “It’ll feel like this.” Her eyes shut, her head falling back as she enjoyed his words as much as his touch. “Except hot. Wet.”

  She loved the way he talked. The way he guided her, never making her feel forced, only pampered.

  “Tag.” Her voice was a whimper and she let her legs fall open as he continued to finger her. He felt so much better than her own hands that she thought if he only did this, it might be enough.

  “I know, sweetheart. You need it, don’t you? I’m going to give it to you. And you’re going to let go. Put your ankle on my shoulder.”

  Her eyes flew open. “What? I can’t!”

  She’d be open and exposed and—

  But then he did it for her, giving her no choice. He placed a few torturous kisses on first one inner thigh and then the other as he’d promised.

  “Breathe, Dimples.” His warm breath rolled over her flesh as he lowered his mouth and though she breathed, her arms were strung tight, fists gripping the fabric of his sofa cushions.

  Then his tongue slicked along her swollen center and she let out a moan that relaxed her muscles on contact.

  Yes, yes, yes.

  He continued the torturous assault, reaching up to gently pinch her nipples in tandem with his flicking tongue. She forgot about faking. The pleasured sounds coming from her mouth were the real deal. Real and raw and desperate. She’d never felt this free, this good, not ever.

  A sharp, thin breath came from her mouth followed by, “Tag, please.”

  He took her plea to heart, increasing the speed of his tongue, pinching her nipples again. With one powerful arm, he held her thighs open, gently pinning her so she was unable to do anything but lie there and writhe, and…

  Oh, God.

  Spots dotted her eyelids, sparking into miniature fireworks that blotted out her mind; then she was coming, her orgasm cresting into a wave before crashing her to earth and leaving every bone in her body liquid.

  She was vaguely aware of Tag moving, resting her legs on the couch, and reaching for his shirt. When she opened her eyes, she saw him swipe his face with his discarded Henley.

  His smile was as satisfied as if he’d also had a flooring orgasm.

  “Wow. I—you’re good at that.” Surprisingly she didn’t feel heat flush her cheeks. She was too pleased to do anything but smile.

  “So are you.” He winked. “You taste good, Dimples.”

  Chapter 11

  Rigid, my ass.

  Tag pulled his hands down Rachel’s supple thighs and smiled back at her, aware his smile was sort of dopey, but he couldn’t help it. Her face reflected exactly how she was feeling. Relaxed, satisfied, and definitely not rigid.

  Her ex had done a number on her.

  “Come here.” He lifted her into his arms, stood, and then sat in the chair. Sure, it was a little Magic Mike to strip for her, but he’d had an inkling she hadn’t been able to let loose with the dickbag she used to date, and Tag wanted to give her a chance. His assessment had been right. If her ex had known what he was doing and this had been his result—Tag stroked her cheek with his knuckles and watched as her smile broadened—there was no way the jackass would’ve let her go.

  He paused when her blues met his, considering the out-of-place thought. He didn’t make empty promises to the women he was with, but neither had he ever pictured holding on to one for good. Rachel letting him in, letting him dig the truth out of her, made him want to get to know even more of her.

  He shut the train of thought out before it ran off with him. He didn’t know if he could trust that voice suggesting anything more than sex or a good time. It’d never confided in him before now.

  He wasn’t worrying about the future. Only tonight.

  “The rest is up to you, gorgeous.” He moved his fingers down her neck and over the crest of one breast. They were the perfect handful, with dusty rose nipples sitting up and begging for his tongue. He’d promised to kiss her there, then skipped right over them. Pity.

  Lazily, she draped her arms around his neck and for a second he got lost in her eyes, deeper blue than his own, surrounded by long lashes, not too much makeup.

  “The rest?” she asked, her voice bringing him back to earth. He’d been adrift for a few seconds, his mind hazy at the idea of this woman trusting him so implicitly.

  He cleared his throat and adjusted his hold on her, bringing her closer.

  “How much more did you want to do tonight? I have a big shower, a bigger bed, and I can come up with a list of a hundred things to do to you involving more bone-crushing orgasms on your part.”

  She bit down on her plush bottom lip, which made him want to do the same. He brushed her wild blond hair away from her face and put a soft kiss on the center of her mouth. He wasn’t lying. He could spend the rest of the evening exploring every inch of her with his mouth. With his other body parts. Especially the steel in his boxers currently nudging her hip.

  Rather than answer, she slipped her hands from his neck and moved gingerly from his lap. She covered her breasts with her arms, which made her look demure and enticing, especially with the rest of her gloriously exposed. She took a step away from him and he felt his heart sink.

  Damn. He’d wanted to continue with her.

  Then she surprised him.

  “Take off your boxers.”

  He felt one eyebrow climb his forehead. No way did he ask if he misheard her. He stood up and pushed his boxer briefs to his ankles, stepping out of them and showing her how much turning her on had turned him on. When she licked her lips, her eyes fastened between his legs, his cock gave a happy bob.

  “I was thinking,” she said, her voice husky, like her throat had filled with lust, “that we could do it on the chair?” Only then did her façade slip, did she demonstrate she wasn’t sure of herself. Thanks to the last guy who did her way too wr
ong, Rachel wasn’t sure she was good at sex.

  He sat, spreading his legs slightly to allow for his erection; then he held out a palm, inviting her.

  She stepped forward and then so tenderly his chest crushed, slipped her fingers over his hand. He took hold of her just as delicately, wrapping his other hand around one of her hips. She lifted her leg and he muttered an expletive, and not because of how inviting she looked opened up to him.

  “Condom. Give me two seconds.” He stood carefully, watching to make sure she wouldn’t run. She didn’t. Only gave him a jerky nod. He walked to the nearest bathroom, pulled a condom out of the medicine cabinet, and raced back.

  “Thank God,” he said as he tore the wrapper. “I was afraid you’d leave.”

  She shook her head and her smile grew a little sinister. He liked the look on her way too much. He’d like to assist her in embracing this side of herself more often.

  “Sorry, buddy.” She tilted her chin. “I’m not giving you up.”

  Quickly, he rolled on the condom, watching what he was doing and stealing a glance at her to see if she was watching too. She was. With a mixture of anticipation and wonder and maybe a dab of uncertainty.

  “Dimples, you know you don’t have to—”

  He didn’t say any more before she rushed him, rolled onto her tiptoes, and kissed him solidly. She cupped his face, slanting her mouth, her tongue sparring with his. She’d gone from hesitant to greedy and demanding, and damn, he liked her like this. He’d known in his gut she was a sexual firecracker. She just needed the right guy to explode with.

  You found him, honey.

  His hands went to her hips as he sat. She threw one leg over his lap, straddling him. He supported her weight, lifting her some before placing her on his thighs, below where he wanted her. By the time her fingers were buried in his hair and she’d pulled her mouth from his, he was panting, his lungs and heart working double time to keep him conscious.

  He put one hand on her lower back and the other on her arm, alarmed to feel he was shaking. Anticipation had coiled him as tightly as possible without snapping him in two.

  “Tag,” she whispered. “I’m ready.”

  God. So was he.

  He palmed her ass as she tipped her hips over his erection, and then started to slide down. There was no need to readjust, to have her assist. His cock slipped past her warm, wet folds and nudged her opening like she was outfitted with a damn homing device.

  Between hectic exhalations and ragged inhalations, he worked his length inside her. Until she closed her eyes, dropped her head back on her neck, and held on to his shoulders for purchase.

  He sank all the way in, losing the ability to keep his own eyes open after being wrapped in her heat. Short fingernails dug into his flesh with a slightly painful bite.

  “Oh, wow. Tag. Wow.”

  He pried his eyes open to find Rachel’s mouth dropped, her irises blown out, and her cheeks a welcoming, rosy hue.

  “I can’t reach the floor,” she said.

  He couldn’t keep his smile away as he verified. Sure enough, her toes barely touched the carpet.

  “I have no leverage to help.” A tiny pout.

  He gripped her hips firmly, lifted her off his lap, and plunged her slowly back down, watching her face contort into pleats of pleasure.

  “You don’t have to help.” He lifted her again, grunting at the loss of her tightness before bringing her down again. “You just have to—ah, Jesus.” He lost his train of thought when she clamped tightly around him and as quickly let up.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Do it again.”

  “What did I—”

  His hands gripped her body almost too tight as he endured another mind-melting squeeze. “That. God Almighty, Rachel. That right there.”

  “You like that?”

  He let out a raspy chuckle and moved her again, feeling sweat bead at his temple. “You hugging my cock with your warm, wet pussy? Yeah, honey. I like that a lot.”

  “Your mouth…” When he thought she’d take him to task for talking dirty, she smothered him with another kiss designed to take him straight to heaven in way too short of a time.

  He continued rocking her and she continued squeezing him and they continued panting between kisses. She pulled his hair and quickly apologized. He just as quickly told her to shut up and hang on, no apologies necessary. By the time he was slamming her down onto his lap for the hundredth time, they were both sweaty and his eardrums were filled with her screaming out another long orgasm.

  This time when she pulsed around him, Tag followed. His release robbed him of his voice and the strength in his legs. He didn’t remember ever coming so hard, so thoroughly. He held on to her, arms wrapped around her back as his face rested against her breast.

  When he snapped out of it, she was lovingly stroking his hair and he was regaining feeling in his tingling toes. When she spoke, the smile was evident in her voice.

  “Thanks, Tarzan.”

  It was a smile he returned.

  * * *

  “I’m a slut! I’m a dirty, filthy slut!” Rachel said as she and Bree lifted the chairs off the tables in the dining room and put them on all fours.

  Bree stopped their opening routine and crossed the dining room to where Rachel was standing. Presently, there were two kitchen guys in the back doing prep, and Rachel had been sure she’d made her confession quietly enough so they didn’t overhear.

  “Sit.” Bree pointed at a group of chairs. Rachel sat, Bree taking the one closest to her. “Talk. Leave no details out. I have to hear everything.”

  “Tag and I…we…well.” Rachel lifted one shoulder and dropped it.

  Bree gasped, slapping her hands to her mouth, a smile in her eyes. She dropped her hands. “Is he hung? Is he any good? Did you have a…you know.”

  “You’re—you’re taking this really well.”

  “I’m thrilled for you! After Shaun, I wasn’t sure you’d be brave enough to take on another man for a long time.”

  “You’re making my point! I’m a slut! I have no relationship with Tag.”

  “You’re friends.”

  “He’s a billionaire playboy.”

  “Which means he knows what he’s doing.” Bree narrowed her eyes and put a hand on Rachel’s shoulder. “Did you use protection?”

  “Yes. He insisted.”

  A quick lift of Bree’s eyebrows showed she was impressed. “Go on.”

  “I don’t know how to do this.”

  “Babe, sounds like you do. Did it end badly or something? Was it awkward after?”

  “No. It was…nice.” A lame descriptor to describe what came after. Once she and Tag had spent themselves on the chair, he’d walked her to the shower and they soaped each other up and down. Rachel leaned closer to Bree and whispered, “He washed my hair.”

  One hand over her heart, her friend’s expression melted. “So romantic.”

  “He knows how to do it, too. Since he has a head full of very nice hair.”

  “Great sex, no awkwardness after, and he washed your hair.” Bree grinned, clearly pleased. “Did you stay?”

  “I didn’t,” Rachel answered with a headshake. “I had to get back to Adonis.”

  “Oh right. The dog. Shame. So, what…You feel guilty because you had incredible sex with a guy you aren’t technically dating?”

  “That’s the thing.” Rachel stayed close as she spoke. “I don’t feel guilty. At all. But shouldn’t I?” Her mother would be appalled. Her father—oh, Lord, her father would have an aneurism if he knew.

  “I get it.” Bree nodded.

  What a relief—someone understood her crazy brain.

  “Just because you have never slept with a man who you weren’t committed to doesn’t mean you did anything wrong,” Bree continued. “Sounds to me like you’re both on the same page.” Her gaze flitted to the side. “Kind of.”

  When Bree stood, Rachel stood with her. “What does ‘kind of’ me
an?”

  Bree started taking down the rest of the chairs and Rachel helped. Mainly so she could pry out the answer to her question.

  “He’s pursued you pretty hard, Rach.”

  “He has?”

  “Hello? He came in here and walked you home. He stopped by one day to pick up the key so he could take care of Adonis. He washed your hair.”

  True.

  “He likes you.”

  “Well, I hope so considering what we did last night,” Rachel said with a haughty laugh, but the outburst made her stomach flip. So did Bree’s next question.

  “How did you leave things?”

  “He wants to take me to Hawaii.” Tag had brought up Hawaii and Oliver. He asked when she was done dog sitting and reinvited her to Oahu.

  “Chair sex. A trip to Hawaii with the local billionaire.” Bree put the last chair on the floor. “I am officially jealous of your life.”

  Rachel had to smile. When she thought of what had been happening to her lately, it was pretty damn enviable.

  “What’d you say?” Bree asked.

  “I said I couldn’t possibly leave you in a lurch here at Andromeda.”

  “Fuck you, Blondie!” Bree exclaimed so loudly that the guys in the back fell silent. Javier came to the window, eyebrows raised in alarm. She waved him off with a “We’re joking around.” Then she turned back to Rachel. “Seriously, ladybug. You are going to say yes. You are going to take some time away from here, and if I’m three deep around this entire bar, I’ll not only leave with all your tips, but I’ll also feel good for giving you the gift of sex on the beach with Tag Crane.”

  Sex on the beach. That would be a first, and Hawaii was the ideal destination for it.

  “When you put it that way…” Rachel allowed herself to grin.

  “Grab life by the balls, girlfriend.” Bree pointed at the CLOSED sign on the front door. “And open up for us. Let’s hurry through this week so you can get to next week.”

  Chapter 12

  Tag was whistling when he went to work the morning after the best chair sex of his life. Helping was the fact Rachel was petite and he could lift and pull her down onto him. It helped more that she was willing and excited, matching his attraction to her.