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  “John thinks this will be over soon, baby. He thinks the CPS will make a decision early next week.”

  I sigh. “We need to be realistic, Gregory, that decision might not be the end, it might only be the beginning.”

  “Baby...breaking...tomorrow...tunnel.” The line goes dead.

  Chapter Sixteen

  My eyes open to the indulgent sight of Gregory’s naked torso hovering above me. Messy hair and day old stubble. The weight of his thighs resting against my pelvis and two big brown teddy bear eyes staring into mine.

  “Good morning,” he says, with that devastating half smile.

  I’ve woken in paradise. Then I remember I’m still pissed.

  “Is it?”

  “Cryptic Scarlett, how I’ve missed her.” His thumb strokes my cheek then he drops his mouth gently against mine, his soft lips lingering, rousing me from my sleepy fog. “You look adorable when you’re sleepy.”

  “Stop with the sex sword, Gregory. You just took off.”

  “No, I went away on business and I don’t want to come home to a fight.”

  “You dropped the fingerprint result on me, by phone, right before hanging up.”

  “I didn’t hang up, I lost signal.”

  “Same thing.”

  “It really isn’t.”

  “And what about Thursday? One minute you’re arguing with your mother about some phantom woman, then you’re running out to calm your mother down. Who is she?”

  “My mother? Rarely who she says she is.”

  “You’re not funny.”

  “Then why are you smirking?”

  “Because you’re making me. Stop being evasive and tell me who she is.”

  His face contorts for a second and I think he might tell me. “You’re adorable when you’re taking a tantrum.”

  I scowl. “This isn’t over, Ryans.”

  He leans his head to one side and raises a brow. “No?”

  I squirm beneath him and grab his pert arse cheeks with a squeeze, digging my nails into his flesh. “No.”

  “I beg to differ, Miss Heath.”

  He attacks the sensitive skin at my sides and under my arms, making me scream with laughter. “Is it over?”

  “No!” I squeal.

  He jumps backwards, grabbing my ankle between his legs and tickling the middle of my foot. I put a brave face on for as long as possible but it’s no good. It’s so bloody ticklish my squeal bursts from me again. I wriggle and yank at my foot, trying to kick, squirming in the bedsheets but he’s too strong. He grips my ankle and then his quick moving fingers are on the uber-sensitive skin beneath my toes.

  “Stop! Stop!” I scream.

  “Say it’s over.”

  I shake my head vigorously.

  “Scarlett Heath, I have a sex weapon and you know I’m not afraid to use it.”

  My ribs are aching and I think I might actually pee. “It doesn’t look like much of a weapon to me.”

  He stops. My giggles subside and he dives forward again, his weight shared between my legs and the forearms propped at either side of my head. “I’m going to show you exactly how much of a weapon it is. I want my morning fuck.”

  “I want your morning fuck too.” I take a deep breath and surge forward with all my might, throwing him to his side and diving from the bed. “But you’re not getting it after that!”

  I run from my side and round the bottom of the bed, making it to the door before he grabs me. He wraps a muscled arm around my annoyingly light waist, halting me with ease. I thrash around, legs and arms air-running, and eventually I get enough leverage to burst from his arms. I’m giggling so much that my arms and legs can’t crawl more than a few feet along the wooden floor of the landing.

  He’s laughing too, the most wonderful, playful sound, as he flips me onto my back, the rosewood cold against my skin. He hovers over me, his weight fully resting on his arms, making the muscles flex. I raise my head and bite his bicep.

  “You’re so gorgeous when you giggle, Scarlett Heath.”

  I look down to find his cock ready, naked and swollen. Digging my fingers into his arse, I yank him down towards me until his shaft is pressing against my navel. He raises two playful brows.

  “Hungry this morning, aren’t we?”

  I bite my lower lip, quelling the grin that’s attempting to rise to my ears. I roll my pelvis up, encouraging him to take control, to give me what I need, to give me him. He sits back on his heels and slides my silk nightdress up over my stomach, gently lifting my hips, then my shoulders, so he can peel it over my head. He cups my breast and flicks his thumb sharply over my nipple making it spring to life. Then his teeth clamp down and tug torturously.

  His body is warm and heavy against mine as he leans in and bites my neck, then sucks my lobe and slowly trails his lips along my jaw to my mouth. He kisses me, softly at first, making me moan in response to his soft caress. Then his lips work like a savage, his tongue turning in my mouth, lapping up my taste.

  He grinds hard against me, my cleft yearning for him to be inside. He lifts and bends my leg and I follow with the other, jamming his hips between my knees. His hand moves to my arse cheek and flips us, quickly, easily. Keeping the contact of our mouths, I press my hips down against his length and slide up his body, feeling his tip brush against my throbbing clit.

  He lifts my head, his palms on my cheeks. “Turn around.”

  It takes me a second to realise what he wants, then I move, turning so I’m facing his feet. With my hands resting on the floor either side of his hips, I slowly shuffle back, guided by his hands, taking me back until my sex is hovering above his mouth. I turn back over my shoulder and see a roguish grin just before his tongue strikes a sharp line right down my centre, sending my head back as my spine arches. His next lick is smooth, like velvet across my swelling skin.

  Oh God, he knows exactly how to get to me, even when I’m upside down. He knows exactly how to take me out of my head, how to tame me. He dips his tongue inside, moaning when he tastes my wetness. Jesus, I could climax now.

  Pushing his thighs apart, I grab his sack and cup him, earning a lift of his hips. I wrap my hand firmly around the base of his shaft, pulling up and pushing back down until his smooth moving tongue is thrown off rhythm. Then I rub my thumb over the bead of pre-cum on his tip and move it around the head. He strikes my clit on a firm lick, my hips bucking, sending me forward over my hands.

  I absorb his attack and the sensation that’s driving me wild. I want to do the same to him. I want him to know what it’s like to have his head in a spinning, lust-filled mist. Gripping the bottom of his shaft, I draw my tongue up the length of him, flicking sideways over his tight string.

  “Christ, Scarlett, you’re fucking amazing! Fuck! Keep going. Christ. That feels so. Fucking. Good.”

  I pull back, staring down at his glory, enjoying the sight of his writhing hips, begging me to take him again. Then his fingers thrust inside me, the unexpected pressure making me cry out. “Oh God! Gregory!”

  He pushes his fingers forward against my wall. The weight lifting me high...higher. With an insatiable urge, I greedily take the whole of his length in my mouth. No man has ever made me hungry for him like this. No man has ever made me crave the taste of his excitement. He tugs my hips back and licks me like I’m his favourite dessert as he pushes himself deeper into my mouth. My entire body is on fire.

  His tongue slides from my clit. Down. He dips into my entrance drawing a moan from deep inside me. Then he continues his delicious, silky moves. Down. Further down.

  Holy shit! I jerk forward at the first contact of his tongue with my back entrance but he grabs my hips with his hands.

  “Gregory!”

  “Relax, baby, enjoy it,” he whispers so close to my hole I can
feel his breath.

  His tongue is back. I close my eyes. This is actually amazing. I sink my pelvis closer to his and take his cock in my mouth again, my body moving in time to each of his masterful licks.

  “God, Scarlett, your mouth. You’re going to be the end of me. Fuck.”

  I gasp and pull away from him as he shocks me again, this time exploring just inside my back entrance with his thumb. This is new. A first. But God the pressure is outrageously good.

  “You’re ready, baby, I can feel it. Come for me.”

  I lose control of my muscles, my body begins to spasm. He rams two fingers into me, his thumb still working my arse, attacking my wall from both sides, throwing me into an earth-shattering, mind-blowing, head-spinning orgasm. I scream his name as I erupt around him, my climax immense and prolonged as he moves his fingers slower, slow enough that I can stand it but with enough pressure to keep me semi-high. I drop my breasts between his legs, pushing them together with my forearms to grip his shaft and work him, giving myself a chance to calm my breaths. His hips rise in time to my movements, back and forth, his wet cock slick against my tender flesh.

  “I need to be inside you. I need to feel you.” His words are throaty, charged and ready.

  I move forward, still facing his feet and slide down his rigid length.

  “Scarlett, you are really something else, baby.”

  I grab his shins for leverage and move, lifting and circling back down onto him. He growls a round of ungodly words and smacks a palm across my arse cheek. It stings and drives me wild all at once. I’m building again and can feel him, rock-solid and on the edge inside me. He spanks me again and I grind down harder on him.

  “Lean back on me.” His words are barely more than a hoarse whisper.

  I move my legs from beneath me and lay them against his, leaning back on his chest so we’re both facing the ceiling. His hand on my hip dictates the rhythm that’s going to take him to the brink. He’s almost there, I can feel him grow that last amount and the thought of what I’m doing to him is taking me to the edge too.

  He growls into my ear then moves his free hand to my clit. I slide my hand between our legs and feel the bottom of his cock, wet and solid as it moves in and out of me.

  “Holy shit!” I’m there again, my breathing erratic, a cloud blurring my mind.

  “Scarlett, you’re a fucking angel.” He loses control. His hips thrusting against me, the rhythm of his finger spiralling. His climax takes me exactly where I need to be. I feel him burst inside me and my muscles clamp greedily around him, milking all of his pleasure as I find my second, sensational release.

  * * *

  Rather than taking up my usual position between Gregory’s legs, I slide down into the opposite end of the bathtub and tie my hair in a messy knot. He might have escaped me whilst we frolicked on the landing but I have some questions to ask and I’m not going to let him grope his way out of answering them.

  “How was Germany?” I break him in gently.

  He lifts his arms from the water, steam rising from his skin, and rests them on the sides of the bath. “Dry. I had to meet with a business contact from the States who happened to have a meeting in Frankfurt so I agreed to meet him there.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  “No. Nothing legal, just business, or future business rather. I like to have my irons in a lot of pies.”

  A giggle escapes me, despite my want and need to be serious. “You surely know that’s incorrect.”

  “What’s incorrect?”

  I can’t be certain but I think I detect the faintest air of a knowing smile around his lips. “You either have irons in the fire or fingers in pies, baby. You don’t have irons in pies.”

  He turns his head from one side to the other, contemplating. “I guess that wouldn’t make sense, would it? I mean, the irons would just ruin the pies.”

  “Right.” I smile on a shake of my head.

  “Would you get over here?” He moves a hand to his toned pec, indicating for me to take up my usual spot. I fight the urge to move in and lie back against his chest, instead leaning back a little, letting him know that this woman is putting her foot down. Now there’s a saying he might understand.

  “Are we going to talk about Thursday?”

  He moves his hand back to the rim of the bath, his upper body purposefully wide and strong. “What about Thursday?”

  “Don’t play games, Gregory. You were angry on the phone to Lara, then you left almost without a word. Next thing I know you’re on a flight to Germany and you wouldn’t have even called me if the fingerprint trace hadn’t come back.”

  “I would’ve called you.”

  This man is infuriating. I sigh and bend my legs, burying my impending scream of exasperation beneath the bubbly water. When I slide back up he hasn’t moved.

  “Who was the woman you were talking about on the phone? Lara was upset, that was obvious. So who was it and why did the police mention her?”

  I lose him. He’s still looking at me but he isn’t present. He drifts to somewhere else, somewhere I’m not invited to go.

  “Why won’t you talk to me?”

  “Why do you keep pushing me, Scarlett? Can’t you accept that I have a past and that I want to forget it? I want you to be my future. Untarnished.”

  “So the woman is part of your past? From South Africa?”

  “Enough!”

  I jump, surprised by his growl, water lapping at the sides of the bath as I move. “Don’t hate me for trying to break down your walls, Gregory. I want you to let me in. Can’t you see that for us to have a future you need to be open and honest with me? Let me understand you. Let me understand everything that’s going on. I need to make sense of it all too.”

  Pulling his knees up and leaning forward, he cups his hands and splashes water in his face and over his hair, then pauses, holding his hands in his dark, wet locks. I wait. Hoping.

  Eventually, he lies back again and leans his head against the wall tiles, his eyes closed. “Let me take you to dinner tonight.”

  Would you open up to me then my beautiful, conflicted man?

  “Somewhere nice, just us.”

  “And when you say just us, what you mean is no talking about the present or the future, which you can’t seem to grasp is based entirely on the past.”

  “Jesus, Scarlett, I don’t even know what that babble means. I’m just asking you to come to dinner with me. As my gorgeous, sexy, infuriating girlfriend.” He slips a foot between my thighs and starts moving it up to my centre.

  I slap it away, causing a splash. “Oh no you don’t! You’re not using sex to ignore me again.” I climb out of the bath and wrap myself in a warm white towel from the heated rail. “And no. I won’t come to dinner with you. I have plans.”

  He leaps out of the bath as quickly as he can without slipping on the bubble greased base. He yanks my towel off me and picks me up, my back against his chest, plonking us both back into the hot water, in our usual position. He pins me against him until my wriggly limbs relent.

  “We’re going to dinner,” he says, reaching for a flannel, soaking it and squeezing the water across my chest.

  “I genuinely have plans. I’m going out with Amanda and Luke. I promised.”

  “Luke your ex?”

  “Luke my gay ex, yes.”

  He nods his approval of Luke’s sexual preferences against my neck. “Cancel.”

  “No. I can’t ditch my friends, Gregory. I’ve hardly seen them since we met.”

  “So?”

  “So I’m not cancelling. We’ll do dinner another night.”

  He bites the bottom of my earlobe sharply. “Where are you going?”

  “For drinks.”

  “Just drinks? No food?”

>   “Just drinks.”

  “Is that wise? I’d prefer if you have dinner.”

  I turn to face him and realise he actually is serious. “I’ll eat before I go.”

  “Fine but something substantial. I don’t want you drunk.”

  “Erm, I’ll be drunk if I want to be, thanks all the same.”

  “Fine, then I’ll come too.”

  I try to push away from him in protest but he holds me to his chest and resumes casually soaking and draining the flannel.

  “You aren’t invited.”

  “Then don’t get drunk.”

  “Fine. I’ll get tipsy. Better?”

  He shrugs against me and I can feel my temper stirring. “Where are you going for drinks?”

  “Why?” My tone is petulant but I can’t help it. “So you can follow me?”

  “I won’t be following you, Scarlett.”

  “Ha, so you’ll have Jackson follow me.”

  He squeezes the flannel against my chest and drops a kiss to my temple, my temper instantly dampened.

  “Actually, no. Jackson is taking Sandy out tonight for a special dinner.”

  “A special dinner?” My head fights against his palm, trying to catch him smirking. “Let me see you. What special dinner? Oh my gosh, he’s not going to...you don’t think.”

  He shrugs against my back, still keeping my head faced towards the bottom of the bath. “Damn you, Gregory Ryans, tell me!” I wiggle my feet in tantrum splashing water over the edge of the tub.

  His chest jerks against my back as he laughs. “I can’t, it’s a secret.”

  “Oh bugger off, Gregory!”

  I stomp out of the bath as he throws his head back laughing. “And I won’t tell you where I’m going tonight and I will get drunk!”

  “You won’t need to tell me where you’re going, angel, I’ll find out when I drop you off.”

  Snatching my towel from the floor, I stalk out of the bathroom, internally screaming at my oh-so-bloody-humorous billionaire.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The last proper night out I had, as in not after work and not rushing home to look after my dad, was far too long ago, which is obvious given the show I make of getting ready. From the appointment with the beauty salon to smarten-up my Brazilian waxing, washing and creaming my skin, giving all twenty nails a base coat, three colour coats and a top coat, and blow drying my hair into a mousse induced high-volume do, I manage to fill the day.