Kendra grins up at me. “I want to say yes, I really do. I’m not sure I can give you up after a weekend, though, so maybe we shouldn’t.” Her face turns serious as she waits to hear me agree.
A sly smile stretches across my mouth, even as I try to stop it. She can’t give me up.
“Are we confessing stuff now?”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m pretty sure millionaire media moguls shouldn’t say the word stuff as much as you do.”
“Are you avoiding the question, Kendra Snow?” I kiss the end of her nose, trying to put her at ease—to telegraph everything I’m feeling without scaring her off. I want this weekend with her. More than I care to admit it to myself.
“Maybe.” Her eyes lift and her hands slip around my neck. “Honestly, I don’t know what to expect. I’ve never slept with my boss—”
“You quit, remember?” I can’t help but interrupt. It’s clear what she’s struggling with. “If you don’t work for me, you can’t be accused of sleeping with the boss.”
“A technicality that I assure you everyone will ignore.”
“I don’t care what anyone says.”
“What about your mother? She will eviscerate me with her eyes the moment she finds out.”
“I can take care of my mother. I’m a grown man. I might have to endure whatever she wants to spit at me, but I don’t take advice from her, and I don’t choose my partners based on her say-so.”
“Miss Sable-Coat was organized by your mother.”
Now I do laugh. Jealousy squeezes into those last words, and it’s music to my ears. If she’s jealous of someone she’s never met, we’re good. “I’m thrilled you gave her an appropriate name.” I can’t help but ruffle her a little.
“It wasn’t me. It was the social pages.”
“Fur coats are not an acceptable look in this day and age. Anyway,” I kiss her again, making sure I have her full attention as I hover close to her lips. “That date was because I had a bet with my friends, and to win I had to have a date for Valentine’s Day. So, I let my mother choose, knowing it would never be anything serious. But now, I’m serious, and so is what I have planned for this weekend. Stay with me, and let’s enjoy it together.” She nods slowly, and my heart lifts. “That reminds me. I have to message Danny later and let him know I did my bit.”
“Oh, that explains so much,” she shrieks, throwing her head back against the pillows. “Trust him to be behind some oddball bet. Danny Griffin will get you into real trouble one day. You need to give him a job or something. Keep him out of trouble.”
I laugh, imagining Danny, the billionaire, working for me to keep himself on the straight and narrow. I can’t tell Kendra, but there’s zero chance of him doing a hard day’s work in this lifetime. Anyone with the cash he has, with the family life of a jaded rock-star father, won’t be satisfied in a salaried role. I make another mental note to ask him if he’s having any luck finding his own date for Easter.
“I’ll take that under advisement, and I’ll be sure to let Danny know that my new girlfriend says he should get a job.”
Chapter Eleven - Kendra
Why am I so weak? He throws a promise at me of more of the best sex I’ve ever had and I’m onboard without question? What kind of a person am I? Who did I become last night? I had one job—resign and leave with my dignity intact. Now, my dignity is nowhere to be found, tangled somewhere with yesterday’s clothing, and the sound of my moans as his mouth does intimate things to me in the shower is nothing short of mortifying.
I could no more go home and give up this moment than fly to the moon on the back of an elephant. Especially when he referred to me as his girlfriend. I swooned so hard I nearly fell out of bed.
If I was turned on by him between the sheets, you can multiply that by a million times now that water is cascading down his skin, slicking his hair back and adding a delicious slippery sensation to what his fingers are doing.
I couldn’t leave now if the building fire alarm were triggered. In fact, it’s lucky we’re in the shower with cool water all around us, or we might set off that fire alarm ourselves.
Our tongues twist together as the heat of his body consumes me. We’re all hands, mouths, and skin. My fingers wrap around him and stroke in time with his hands on me. In this moment, with bliss coursing through my veins, I wonder how I ever considered sneaking out and going home.
I cry out as his fingers give one last swirl and I’m hurled off the edge of the cliff we’ve been climbing together. He joins me, and we fall together, holding each other up, pushed hard against the shower wall as cool water pours down. His lips don’t leave mine and I drink him in, holding on tight.
When it’s over he doesn’t pull away. Instead he kisses across my chin and down my neck, sliding his hands around me and massaging my lower back. I move to give him better access, sighing as the floaty sensation I’m experiencing subsides.
God, I want to do that again.
Sayer’s hands are big and warm, and they touch me everywhere. Without moving his mouth from my neck, he picks up the soap and runs his slippery hands across my skin. Then he leans away and pulls his hands to the front, sliding them across my breasts, his eyes on mine. It’s an intimate gesture and I’m jolted out of this moment and back to worrying about what people will say. He tips his head and frowns at me, the moment he sees indecision settle on my features. We grin at each other and I put my hands over his.
“I like this.” My heart beats faster when he smiles at me that way. The way I’ve dreamed.
His hands slide down to my belly, then slip lower. “I like this, too. I wish I’d been doing it for the last one thousand and four days.” Sayer’s words pierce me as he drops another kiss on my lips. How does he know the number of days since I rejected him? Not one to keep a secret from me, he says, “I looked that up on Google last night.” We both laugh and he puts the soap down, pulling the shower head off the wall and spraying it on me. It’s a fancy massage head, of course, and the setting makes my mouth water as he aims it at my breasts, his fingers joining the gushing water. “Let’s go and get breakfast. If we stay here you’ll be spending the day naked under me.”
“I can’t argue with that. I’m starving. We could make ourselves eggs on toast instead of going out.” My tone is hopeful. I’d like to stay in our private bubble a little while longer. While we’re here, locked away in his gorgeous tower, I don’t have to face the realities outside. He turns the water off and hands me a fluffy towel. It’s so luxurious against my skin—so much better than the scratchy towels at my place. He watches me dry off and I’m self-conscious until I wrap the towel around me. “What?”
“Nothing. I’m enjoying the view.” I return the favour as he dries himself and turns to the bedroom. “We can’t stay in. As I said, I can’t be trusted around you. And I need to eat.”
“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. People will talk.”
He pulls a t-shirt on, then looks straight at me. “Let them talk. I don’t care what anyone says. I waited years for you, Kendra.”
His use of my name is stern, and I bite my lip to resist starting something over it. He better not think he owns me, or can tell me what to do, even though he’s owned my body for the last hour. I go in search of my bag and find it on the kitchen bench. My phone has no missed calls, which makes me chuckle. The person who messages me most each day is here with me. I open my email and call out, “So, I’ll cancel your flight and the meeting?”
Sayer appears in the doorway holding his own phone. “You do the flight. I’ll call Mr. Bennett direct to give my apologies. I don’t want this stuff to get out of hand.”
“There’s that word, again.” I smile at him as he turns away to dial. My eyes skate across his shoulders, his t-shirt stretched like a second skin on his back. I’m looking forward to eating breakfast with him. Any excuse to stretch out our time together.
A few minutes later the flight is cancelled and he’s pulling me out the door of the apartm
ent, all business forgotten. I try not to grin too wide as I recall him telling Mr. Bennett that he couldn’t leave today because his girlfriend needed him urgently.
Chapter Twelve - Sayer
I dragged Kendra to the golf club for breakfast to make sure she understands that I’m happy for people to see us together. I want them to know. She argued but, of course, in the end I got my way. Discussing the pros and cons of a topic with Kendra is some of the best fun I’ve had in ages. I’m looking forward to a lot more of these debates in the near future. I’d cancel every meeting for the next year if she promised to argue with me each day.
We settle into a table in the club restaurant when a wicked idea pops into my head. I take her hand and motion for the waiter to leave us alone. “Do you want a tour of the club before we eat?”
“Err, do I? Will it make my breakfast taste better?” She laughs and frowns at me. “Can’t we eat first?”
“I think breakfast will be better for it.” I know it will. I pull her up and head toward the double glass doors that lead out to an area full of plants and greenery. “Come and see the course first.”
She clicks her tongue and my heart lurches. I love her sounds—the way she communicates whether she’s happy, sad, or annoyed, with only a tiny noise. The memory of last night’s sounds shoot straight to my groin and I pull her along the path, seeking the destination that I’m certain is here somewhere.
“I’m not sure I ever told you, but I hate golf.”
“We all hate golf.” I laugh at the look on her face as I glance over my shoulder. “Unfortunately, it’s become a quasi-business-destination for boring old men who like to feel powerful when they make deals. So, we play, and pretend we’re having fun. At least I do.”
I stop and Kendra stops beside me. I put my arm around her and kiss her hair, her body melting into me as she lets out a sigh. The sun is shining, and the sky is blue, creating a beautiful atmosphere as we look over the first tee. I chuckle and take her hand, again, pulling her toward a shed to our right.
“Where are we going?”
“We’re going to give ourselves a bit more of an appetite for breakfast.”
“I don’t know if that’s possible. I’m starving.”
“I promised to make your breakfast better, so humour me.” I pull on the shed door, my eyes scanning for a padlock. I didn’t consider it might be locked when I started this pilgrimage. Lucky for me, there’s no padlock and the door opens easily. The shed has benches on both sides, and several lawnmowers are parked at one end. The smell of fresh grass fills my nostrils and I pull Kendra inside, closing the door behind us.
She glances around and then stares at me. “So, what’s your plan, crazy man? Are we going to weed the garden beds?”
I step forward and slip one hand around her waist, the other lifting her chin to tilt her lips up to me. “I couldn’t make it through breakfast without a taste of you.”
She laughs against my mouth. “I thought you weren’t worried about being seen in public with me? Kissing needs privacy, huh?”
It’s my turn to laugh against her mouth. I lick the edge of her bottom lip and pull away, stepping her backward until her buttocks lean against the workbench and she’s forced to press against me. I feel every pore where her skin touches mine and I’m electrified by her scent. “Who said anything about kissing? I’d kiss you in public all day long. What I have planned needs a degree of privacy.”
“Oh, God. Are you serious?” She laughs again, showing no sign of fleeing, so I dig around for the waistband of her shorts and pull them down as far as I can. The scrap of fabric underneath soon follows, and my fingers find a familiar wetness between her thighs.
She moans as I kiss her, our tongues tangling together as though we’ve done this a thousand times, my fingers continuing their pleasurable exploration. My breathing is heavy, and I add my groan to the heady sounds inside the shed when she slides her fingers up the leg of my shorts.
“I can’t wait.” I gasp the words and Kendra pulls away, fumbling with my shorts and dragging them down. For a second she wavers, and I see her glance at the floor. “Oh, no you don’t.” I shake my head. “Up on the bench with you.” Without waiting for permission, I lift her to the height I need, leaning her against the bench for balance. I peel her shorts all the way down her legs and she wiggles until they hang around one shoe. I guide myself inside and am rewarded with one of her sounds, a moan deep in her throat, that tells me I’m doing it right. Her fingers dig into my shoulders through my shirt and I find her lips, my tongue exploring as we slide into a frenzied pace.
The excitement of being here with her, at risk of being discovered at any time is like a drug to me. I’ve experienced most high-adrenaline joys in my life, but nothing compares to this. I watch her face relax and her inhibitions loosen as I thrust inside her, angling her head back with a tug on her hair, wanting to see her enjoy me. Enjoy us.
Her gasps fill the shed and I wonder what the groundsman would think if he were to open the door now. Of course, I know how that would go. He’d discreetly close it and busy himself elsewhere, pretending nothing had happened.
That’s the kind of life I lead. One where a sexy interlude like this is accepted as a normal part of life for the wealthy. I’ve discovered several such soirees myself and always slithered away with a smile and a wink. Being caught would be funny to imagine, except I have no intention of anyone seeing Kendra in this state of ecstasy except for me. Her arousal is all mine.
My fingers find her nipples through her shirt and I squeeze, sliding the fabric across them as her moans increase in volume. Her legs are wrapped around me and I’m banging her against the work bench, the tools and various jars stacked on the shelves rattling with each forward motion. As I slide deep inside one last time she cries out, then bites my lip, fusing herself to me, sliding and grinding where our skin meets. I rise up to meet her motion and then I’m lost, pouring myself into her, wanting to climb inside and never leave.
We’ve made love five times in less than twelve hours and I still can’t get enough.
Each time makes me want her more, then more again. As we slow our movements, Kendra drops a kiss on the end of my nose and thanks me. As her whisper fades in the stuffy room I’m left to consider one important fact I wasn’t aware of until now.
There’s no way I can let this woman go after the weekend.
Chapter Thirteen - Kendra
We return to our table in the clubhouse and no one even looks our way. The relief is overwhelming. I’m a little bit sweaty, the clean clothes I grabbed from home when we dropped in to feed Alexander, now not feeling quite so clean. I’m wearing a white pair of shorts and Sayer promises me there are no marks on them from the dirty bench, but I’m still self-conscious. He grabs my hand and smiles at me and I allow myself the luxury of relaxing.
Big mistake.
A voice rings out clearly across the restaurant before I’ve even taken my second relaxed breath.
“Sayer, Darling. I didn’t know you’d be here today.” Dammit. Jacqueline Smith, Sayer’s mother, and my sometime-nemesis appears beside our table and her eyes focus on our intertwined fingers.
I’ll say this for Sayer. He doesn’t just hold hands. He always twists his fingers together with mine. The only way for me to pull away is to disentangle them, and I’m certain this would draw more attention than leaving them resting with his. My breath stops without me even realizing, as I wait for her to speak. To criticize.
Sayer, of course, smiles and laughs. “Hello Mother. We decided to come at the last minute. Kendra wasn’t brave enough to try my cooking.”
Her eyes turn on me, lips pursing slightly so I almost miss it. “Kendra. I didn’t realize you did breakfast meetings on the weekend. Personal Assistants are offering it all, these days.”
My cheeks flame and I will my eyes not to dart to Sayer. I’ve held my own with Jacqueline countless times. I’m not about to let her embarrass me in public. “It wasn’t a meeting
last night, and it spilled into the morning, so…” I let my words hang in the air as I smile up at her. I might be beet-red, and she may be towering over me, but I still have my pride, and I’m not afraid to have a dig at her.
“Indeed.” She dismisses me with one word and a flitter of the fingers holding her handbag. “I thought you had other plans for last night?” Her tone is as pointed as her gaze when she sets her sights on her son, again.
“Well, your perfect-for-me woman did not appear, so I succumbed to a better offer.” My eyes widen and I peer at his mother to see what she makes of this. Sayer laughs, his eyes not leaving my face. “I made an excellent choice.” He squeezes my fingers and I bestow my most grateful look on him. There’s a reward coming to him for this moment and no doubt he’ll be pleased to receive it.
“I don’t think it’s overly funny to be flaunting it like that,” she snaps and in that moment Sayer has had enough.
He lifts from the table, holding his hand toward the door, his frame stiff. “Shall we take this outside, Mother. Whatever opinion you have does not need airing in this room.”
Jacqueline steps in front of him but before the door closes, I hear her say, “You seem happy for quite a lot to be outed in this room. Least of all your poor taste in companions.”
I sit alone at the table, my face on fire as the waiter delivers our coffees. He offers to refill the water, but I decline. We haven’t ordered breakfast yet, so I busy myself scanning through the menu, ignoring the curious looks from the other diners.
There’s no doubt everyone in this room knows who Sayer is, and probably who his mother is. If they didn’t realize who I was, it’s now clear what position I hold.
The Billionaire's Heart (Secret Billionaire's Club Book 1) Page 4