Catering to the Billionaire (The Billionaire's Appetites) (BBW Billionaire Erotic Romance)

by Daphne Loveling

  Greg’s dark eyes held Lissa’s prisoner, and in spite of herself, she felt her breath quicken. This man was so different from the one who had so arrogantly brushed her off that first day. He was still formal, but his eyes were kind and troubled. It was clear he was genuinely sorry for the way he had acted. She remembered how generously Barb had spoken of him during their meetings. “Greg’s a man of irreproachable integrity,” she had said. “There aren’t many people out there whom I respect as much as I do him.” Looking at him now, earnestly asking for her forgiveness, Lissa’s heart softened a bit toward him. “Of course, Greg,” she said softly. “I appreciate it. And please forgive me, as well. I was ruder than I needed to be to get my point across.”

  To her astonishment, he chuckled. “Oh, no, you were just as rude as you needed to be. It was exactly what I needed to shake me out of my self-absorption. I’m glad you took me to task, Lissa,” he said, his eyes catching hers warmly. “You reminded me that I’m not too important to remember my manners. And you reminded me that I was being a giant hypocrite.”

  Lissa allowed herself a wicked little smile. “Well, not a giant hypocrite...” She was rewarded with a deep-throated belly laugh from Greg.

  “Yes, a giant hypocrite. You were exactly right: how ridiculous of me to treat you so dismissively while interviewing you for the Women in Business event. You must have thought I was a horrible, horrible man.”

  Lissa smiled. “Well... let’s just say I was mistaken, then, and leave it at that.”

  Greg grinned. “Deal,” he nodded.

  While they were talking, the limousine had slowed considerably, and was now creeping along at barely above a snail’s pace. Frowning, Greg pressed the button and spoke to the chauffeur: “What’s the holdup, Alan?”

  “Construction,” came the reply. “Traffic’s a little backed up.”

  “Oh, yes,” Lissa cried. “I forgot there’s construction along this route. I’m so sorry, Greg.” She turned to look at him. “I didn’t think – otherwise I would never have let you drive me home.”

  “It’s no problem, Lissa, really. I don’t have anywhere to be tonight. We’ll get there soon enough.” Privately, though, he was conflicted: on the one hand, being alone with Lissa Bradford was tantalizing in a way he had only vaguely imagined. On the other, he was rapidly losing control of his resolve with her. Pull it together, Thorne. You’re not some lovesick kid.

  Just then, the limo lurched to the right, presumably to avoid something in the road, and Lissa felt herself sliding across the back seat, into Thorne. He caught her by the shoulders as she slid, helping her right herself before she ended up in a compromising position across his lap. “Whoa,” he murmured, pulling her up in his strong grasp. “Easy...”

  The unexpect contact, and Thorne’s strong, powerful hands on her arms startled Lissa, and she looked up at him, her lips parting in shock. Their eyes locked, their faces only inches from one another. Neither dared to say anything as one second ticked by, then another. Then Thorne’s gaze slid down to Lissa’s lips, and suddenly all the resolve he had built up to resist her fell away. With a low, tortured groan, his mouth came down on hers, forcing hers open. His tongue found hers, probing and insistent. Lissa, before she even knew what she was doing, felt her body responding as her mouth opened to his, tasting his breath and the faint trace of champagne still on his lips. Once he had punished her mouth, devouring her, his lips tore themselves from hers and burned a path down her jaw to her neck, where he stopped and kissed at the pulse that was beating wildly like a caged bird. All coherent gone from her, she felt her back arching to meet his touch as his hand slid upward to her blouse and began to tease her breasts through the fabric, caressing her nipples to hard, desperate nubs as she struggled not to let the loud moan at her throat tear out of her. His touch lit a burning fire between her legs and she felt her panties dampen with her slick moisture and heat. She wanted more than anything for him to slip them down and off of her, then press her back against the long seat and push the hard, thick length of him inside her, plunging and fucking until they both cried out with the violence of their passion. Lissa began to whimper and wriggle as he continued to torment her hardened buds, and felt her panties go from damp to soaked.

  “Oh, God, Lissa,” he groaned against her skin. The hand that had been caressing her breasts slid down between her legs, and she gasped as his probing fingers found her dripping, swollen sex. “I... Oh, Jesus, you’re so wet,” he whispered. Lissa flushed at his bluntness, embarrassed in spite of herself at how aroused she was. “Lissa,” Greg continued, oblivious to her discomfort, “God, how I’ve tried not to do this...” His lips were at her neck again, causing a thrill of goosebumps on her flesh as his mouth found the sensitive spot just behind her ear. “I was so rude that day because I was struggling not to launch myself over the desk and do exactly this. God, your curves, your beautiful, sexy curves... do you have any idea what you do to me, how crazy you make me?” His hand went to hers, guiding it down to feel the rock hard heat of his erection. “Do you feel that, Lissa? Do you see why I acted the way I did?”

  Feeling him so needy, so heavy with lust, changed her breathing to short gasps as he began to stroke her wet, swollen sex. Involuntarily, her legs parted, and a deep moan escaped her as he found the center of her need and began to swirl his finger around it. His eyes half-closed in satisfaction as she began to buck against his hand, lust overcoming her. Greg’s lips came down on hers again and he kissed, her, rewarded when she ardently thrust her tongue into his mouth, drinking him in as she flew higher and higher. Finally, with a strangled cry, she came against his palm, writhing and shuddering her release as he kissed her gently, allowing her ecstasy to arc and then slowly begin to subside as she clung to him.

  When at last she quieted, Greg softly removed his hand, lifting it slowly to his mouth and sucking her juices from his fingers. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered.

  In their preoccupation, they hadn’t noticed that the car had begun to move again and had now arrived in Lissa’s neighborhood, pulling up a few moments later at her apartment building in Riverside. Lissa awkwardly straightened her skirt as the car came to a stop, and could not meet Greg’s gaze. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before; she couldn’t believe that just mere minutes ago the two of them had been enjoying a shaky truce, and now... Good Lord, what have I done? How can he not think I’m some sort of... Oh, God, would she ever learn to control herself around Gregory Thorne?

  Lissa had no idea how to transition from what had just happened between them, and words failed her as she looked out the window at her building. “Thank you for the ride,” she whispered, feeling ridiculous. Greg lifted his hand and gently turned her face to his. “Thank you, beautiful,” he smiled softly. “It was a rare pleasure.” He rapped twice on the glass and the chauffeur got out of the car and opened the door for her to get out. “Goodbye,” she murmured, and fled for the safety of her apartment.

  Greg watched her go, torn between unsated desire and dread. God, what had just happened? He should have known better than to tempt fate by offering her a ride home. Greg knew he had been lying to himself when he told Barbara to hire her. Knew he was deluding himself, telling himself he could manage to stay away from her. And now, all the effort he had put into staying away from her in the past weeks – gone up in smoke.

  He couldn’t let risk anything like this happening in the future. It had to be the only time. Gregory Thorne did not mix business and pleasure. But God, watching her respond to his touch, awash in pleasure... it had been mesmerizing. She was so fucking gorgeous. And she had no idea. He could tell by the way she held herself that she didn’t know what a queen she was. Even now, Greg longed for her, the tightness of his erection refusing to go away. She had obsessed him from day one, like no one he had ever known. But he couldn’t let himself be weak again. She could never know she was all he thought of, lying alone in bed at night. If she knew what he really was like, what he really wanted... Gr
eg shook his head decisively, and stared out the window, a black frown on his face. He would have to make sure nothing like this ever happened again.

  * * *

  Two weeks later, the day of the Women in Business event had arrived, and Lissa was busying herself with final preparations and trying desperately, without much success, to keep Gregory Thorne completely out of her mind.

  After the astonishing episode in the back of Thorne’s limo, Lissa had spent an agonizing weekend, wishing he would call but certain that he wouldn’t. At least, that’s what she told herself, until the entire weekend had passed, and he really hadn’t called. The initial embarrassment she had felt at the memory of how he had brought her to orgasm in the limo gave way to near-paralyzing shame as she realized he would not be calling her at all. She had let herself go in front of him in a way she had never meant to, and now, every time she looked at him... Suddenly, the dream job of being Thorne Investments’ regular caterer had morphed into a nightmare. How would she ever face him again? Why, oh why hadn’t she just taken the T home that night?

  A few days before the event, Lissa had gone to her final appointment with Barbara, and Gregory had been predictably absent, as he had been in the weeks previous. Lissa’s emotions were a churning mess in her head; she had been terrified he would be there, and yet when she saw his office door closed and his light off, the wave of disappointment she had felt was so strong she had almost stumbled. “Are you all right, Lissa?” Barb had asked her with a concerned look when the young woman appeared in her office. “You look white as a sheet. Oh, God, you’re not getting sick are you?”

  “No, no,” I’m fine,” Lissa replied, shaking her head. “I just... forgot to eat lunch, is all.”

  Toward the end of the meeting, Barb looked up from the final seating arrangements they were perusing to greet someone who had appeared in the doorway. “Greg!” she smiled. “Come on in! Lissa and I were just finalizing the seating chart.”

  Lissa glanced up breathlessly to see Greg looking devastatingly handsome in a coal-gray suit and pale blue silk tie. His eyes were locked on Barb’s, as though Lissa were not even in the room. “Sorry, can’t spare a minute. I’m off to talk to Abbott about something that’s come up. Are you free about four o’clock this afternoon? I need to run some things by you.”

  “Yes, of course,” Barb smiled. “Your office?”

  “Good. I’ll see you then.” Then, with the barest flick of his eyes toward the younger woman, he nodded. “Lissa,” he murmured, before disappearing from the doorway.

  Lissa fought back tears and struggled through the rest of the meeting with Barb, who made another comment about Lissa’s health as they were wrapping up. “I don’t think you’re getting enough sleep, dear. Please rest up. We can’t afford to have you sick for the event.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” Lissa replied miserably. “I’ll rest tonight, and tomorrow I’ve cleared my schedule except for some final details. I’ll be in top shape for Saturday evening.” In reality, Lissa had no idea how she was going to face an entire evening with Gregory Thorne in the same room, but she would have to deal with that when the time came.

  Back out on the street, Lissa walked right past the T station and continued blindly moving forward. Tears blurred her vision but she kept on, not caring where she was going, just needing to not stand still. She walked and walked, until finally she found herself in the tree-lined streets of Beacon Hill. Finally, she threw herself down on a bench and willed herself not to cry, taking deep breaths and staring straight ahead of her. Okay. This is how it is. It was a one-time thing. A mistake. He clearly wants to pretend it never happened, and he’s the only one who knows it did. So, it never happened. It’s over. Move on. He could never have been interested in you, anyway. He could have anyone he wanted, and a struggling caterer with a weight problem clearly isn’t it.

  When Lissa had finally calmed herself down, a wave of sad resignation overtook her. She stood up, exhausted, and made her way to a T station to go home. Soon, one way or another, the event would be over. Until then, she had work to do.

  * * *

  Saturday evening found the atrium of Thorne Investments ablaze in light, with all crystal chandeliers illuminated, and women in sparkling gowns shimmering next to their tuxedoed partners. Guests milled around, oohing and aahing over displays highlighting the business accomplishments of some of the most successful women in the Boston area. Professional photographers and journalists covering the event took photos of guests for the society pages, and Gregory Thorne posed for many of these pictures with various invitees.

  In spite of himself, Greg could not help but scan the crowd for Lissa, who he knew must be here. He stepped away from a group that included several members of the Chamber of Commerce to take a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, and as he did so, Barbara caught his eye from across the room and began moving toward him. “Lovely, isn’t it?” she cooed as she looked around the room. “It’s every bit as much of a success as I’d hoped it would be.”

  “Yes,” Greg nodded. “It really is something.” Trying to appear nonchalant, he glanced quickly at Barb. “I haven’t seen Lissa around anywhere. Is she here yet?”

  “Oh, yes,” Barb smiled. “She’s been here all day, attending to last minute details and making sure her assistant has everything under control. I sent her upstairs to my office to get changed a little while ago. I imagine she’s back down by now. Oh,” she said, pointing off to her right. “There she is.”

  Greg turned to see Lissa appear, dressed in a sleeveless floor-length royal-blue gown of crushed velvet. A jeweled brooch hung at the bodice, and simple earrings of sapphire hung from her ears. Her tumbling chestnut hair had been swept up in a loose chignon, exposing the creamy skin of her neck and décolleté. If Greg had tried to mentally steel himself for the task of having to survive an evening appearing indifferent to Lissa Bradford, he was completely unprepared for how stunningly beautiful she looked. He drew in his breath sharply, drawing a curious glance from Barbara.

  “She looks beautiful, doesn’t she?” the woman asked, looking at her boss appraisingly.

  “She does,” he said, in what he hoped was a neutral tone.

  Lissa had noticed them, and was heading in their direction, a slightly strained smile on her face. “Hello,” she said to both of them.

  “Don’t you look gorgeous!” Barbara gushed. “That dress is a knockout!”

  “Thank you,” Lissa blushed, risking a quick glance at Thorne. “You look fantastic, too!” she smiled at Barbara.

  “This old thing?” Barbara laughed self-deprecatingly, glancing down at the form-fitting black dress that flattered her slim figure. “Part of my arsenal of LBDs.”

  “LBD?” Gregory asked.

  “Little Black Dresses,” both women answered at the same time. Laughing, Barbara continued: “In my line of work, reliably flattering formal dresses are a must, and black is always elegant. Lissa,” she changed the subject, “Greg and I were both just saying how fantastically well the evening is going so far. You really have thought of everything. We’re both so pleased.”

  “Yes,” Greg echoed. Reaching to take a champagne flute from a tray going by, he handed it to Lissa. “Congratulations,” he said, lifting his glass to her.

  The three toasted and drank. Then Barb, glancing vaguely off in the distance. “I’m sorry, but if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I see some people I need to talk to. Have fun, Lissa; you’ve earned it.” Cocking a brow ever so slightly at Greg, she moved away, leaving the other two alone.

  Lissa stood paralyzed for a moment, as her mind whirled frantically for a way to extricate herself from conversation with Gregory Thorne. As she cast about for an exit strategy, he spoke:

  “Enjoying yourself?”

  “Well,” she replied, trying to keep her tone light, “Technically I am still on the clock. But yes. I’m especially enjoying that everything seems to be going well.”

  As they talked, a handsome m
an in his forties approached them and reached out his hand to shake Gregory’s. “Greg, fantastic party. Barb was just telling me that this is your caterer.” The man looked at Lissa with interest.

  “Yes, it is. Barrett Thayer, this is Lissa Bradford, the owner of Select Catering. Lissa, Barrett is the CEO of Thayer Management Group, a money management company here in Boston. ”

  Lissa held out her hand and the man took it, looking her up and down with barely-concealed attraction. “Brains and beauty. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Bradford.”

  “Likewise, Mr. Thayer. I’m glad you’re enjoying the reception so far.”

  “Very much. And not just because of the charming caterer,” he grinned, winking at her. Alarm bells sounded in Greg’s head as he watched the two of them. Barrett Thayer had a reputation for many things, not the least of which was his habit of not letting his trophy wife interfere with his dalliances on the side. Barrett had a tendency to prefer younger women in positions of social inferiority, whom he could wow with his position and money, and then leave without too much trouble when he found a new playmate. Greg didn’t trust the man as a business associate, but he trusted him even less with someone as beautiful and naïve as Lissa.

  “I would be very interested in having you cater one of our upcoming events, an investor luncheon in November,” Thayer was saying. “Here’s my card. Would you be so kind as to call my secretary next week to set up a meeting with our events coordinator?”