The Billionaire's Deal: The Complete Story: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (20 page)

He slides his hand over my mine. His breath is so warm on my neck. His body is so hard against mine. I try to calm my nerves. We're not going to have sex in this stairwell. It's way too... well, wet.

Blake offers me my panties. "I don't want you caught on tape. Unless..." He raises an eyebrow.

I blush as I pull on my underwear. "No, that's okay."

He unlocks the door and presses it open. I step inside gratefully. It's not particularly warm in here. The heat is set to some kind of cave-like temperature. Goosebumps spread on my arms. My nipples go hard. Yes, I'll blame that on the temperature. That absolutely checks out.

"Hungry yet?" he asks.

"I could eat." I'd rather fill another one of my needs, but I could eat.

He takes my hand and leads me to a break area. It's as sleek and modern as the rest of the office. There's a thick white table, a kitchenette with stainless steel appliances, and a rectangular black couch. It would look great as the background of a panel, especially with the cloudy window. I imagine the shading. The way it could fall over Blake, keeping him in the shadows. A bit of an obvious metaphor—the unknowable guy stepping out into the light—but it works.

Thankfully, there's plenty of light on Blake. It's the kind of beautiful soft light that comes with cloudy days. My heart races. He looks damn good in those boxers.

Blake drops our clothes on the table. He kneels in front of a cabinet and pulls something out. A blanket. "We'll have to share." He hands it to me then points to the ceiling. "There are no cameras in this room if you want to change."

Change, right, he must be referring to changing. Not about us having sex here. Potentially. I shake my head, trying to put my thoughts back in line. No good. I'm filled with images of Blake and me on the table, the couch, the floor.

Breathe, dammit. Breathe. There is no sense in wearing wet clothes. I pull my sweater over my head and kick my panties to the floor. The blanket is a soft wool. It's warm and comfortable. Probably here for poor employees who work so late they have to spend the night.

Blake fills a coffee maker with water. "What do you want to drink?"

"Hot chocolate."

"Really?"

"You got a problem with hot chocolate?" I put my hand on my hip, but the gesture is impossible under the blanket.

Blake turns to me, taking in my attempt at a confident, badass look. His lips curl into a smile. Then, oh God, it's happening again.

He laughs.

My whole body fills with warmth. It's truly wrong how good his laugh makes me feel.

"Hot chocolate it is." He grabs mugs from the counter.

I take a seat on the couch, willing my body to relax. But it's not happening. There's still this light feeling in my stomach. Nerves, I guess. I pull the blanket over my head, blocking out the light, hiding my expression. It's a quick moment away from the microscope. There's no getting away from it lately. Either Blake and I are out playing pretend, or we're alone, and he's the one studying my reactions.

"You're not good at sharing, are you?" he asks.

I peek my head out of the blanket. He's standing in front of the couch, a mug in each hand. I shake my head. I'm perfectly good at sharing some things. But not my feelings. Not my history. Certainly not my heart.

With the blanket, well, I'll do my best.

He hands me a mug. I take it, shifting the blanket so about half is free. Blake sits next to me on the couch. Still in his boxers. He wraps the blanket around his waist.

My eyes do not obey my commands. They fix on Blake's shoulders, chest, and stomach. He's still wet, and it only highlights the hard lines of his body. My urge to draw him builds. Realism was never my style, but it would be the only way to capture how damn beautiful he is. A cartoon version of Blake could never compare.

Hell, a drawing could never compare.

Nothing compares.

Eyes closed. Okay. At least I'm not gawking at him. I direct my attention to the windows. The rain is really coming down. It's grey and ugly. Perfect fit for my mood.

"Kat?"

"Yeah?" I make eye contact. Geeze, those are nice, too. So intense. So deep.

"You okay?"

"Fine. Great." I sip my cocoa. Stuff out of a packet. A little too hot. Not at all what I actually want in my mouth.

My cheeks flush. I need to get my thoughts under control. I set my cocoa on the floor, out of reach of our dangling feet. Blake watches me the way he always does. He'd make a great scientist. Or a judge. There's no telling what's going on behind those gorgeous eyes.

He offers his mug of coffee. I nod and take a sip. It's black. Rich. Faint taste of vanilla. This is the flavor on his lips. Those are gorgeous, too.

I turn my gaze back to the windows. There's something about the rain. It feels right. "I should get home soon."

"It's pouring."

"It's always pouring this time of year." I shift and the blanket slips off my shoulders, all the way to my waist. The air is cool against my chest, but my body is still damn warm. "I'm sure you have more work to do. I don't want to impose."

He sets his drink on the floor. "I like you here."

"Yeah, but you have to work. And I have to work, too. I might be able to make some of the spring admissions deadlines for art schools. There are a lot of choices I've never really considered. My parents insisted I go to a regular school."

I shiver. Blake has a steady gaze. He doesn't glance at my exposed torso. Respect or disinterest, I'm not sure. Everything about today feels so different. Almost like we're really a couple.

Lie. It's all a lie. The reminder isn't hitting me today. All sorts of explanations bounce around my head. Maybe it's not all a lie. Maybe some of it is real.

I shift onto Blake's lap and arrange my legs so I'm straddling him. He feels so warm, so safe. But that part is a lie, too.

Nothing safe about this.

He pushes my hair behind my ears. His brows raise like he wants an explanation. But I'm not about to deliver one. It's not like he tells me what he's thinking. It's not like I can even explain the feelings whirring inside me.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders. They feel so good to touch. Strong, muscular, safe. I squeeze my thighs around him. His hands press into my lower back, sending a shiver all the way up my spine. Yes. Oh, hell yes.

That curious expression is gone. Replaced by something I recognize—lust.

My eyelids press together as I kiss him. A reflex. There's a faint taste of coffee on his lips. None of that stereotype of awful coffee breath. Only the sweet hint of vanilla.

I slide my tongue into his mouth. He reacts, kissing me back. His grip tightens around my waist. He holds me in place, kissing harder, trying to take command.

His hands slide to my ass. His nails dig into my flesh.

I moan into his mouth. Not giving up control this time. I need to touch him everywhere and not just the places he'll allow.

He drags his fingers over my back and shoulders. Then they're on my neck. Digging through my hair.

Blake pulls back. His eyes find mine. "Get on your back."

I shake my head. "I want to touch you."

"We're doing this my way."

His expression gets intense. Want shoots straight to my sex. Yes. His way sounds perfect. As long as I get to touch him.

I shift so I can pull the thick blanket out of the way. He's hard under his boxers. Almost mine.

Blake grabs my hands and places them back on his shoulders. I run my fingertips along his chest and neck. Every place I touch feels so good. Right now, he's mine. I'm his. It's perfect.

He grabs my ass and pulls my body into his. My sex rubs against the hardness in his boxers. That's close, too, but it's not mine yet. With one hand, he tugs at my hair, bringing my mouth back to his.

He kisses me. It's equal parts hard and sweet. His way. Yes. I like his way. I press my palm against his chest, soaking in the sensation of his still wet body. God, his body. That goes way beyond like.

I follow his lead. Our tongues dance around each other. I explore the nooks and crannies of his torso with my fingertips. There's a soft bit of hairs just below his belly button. I slide my hand beneath them and play with the waistband of his boxers.

He grabs my wrist. My hand goes back to his shoulder. He's leading this.

Blake plants kisses down my neck. Every brush of his lips makes me shudder. Everything inside of me is desperate for more from him. For whatever he's willing to give me.

I rub my crotch against his. Every flick of my hips fills me with the most delicious friction. Yes. Hell yes. I move faster, moaning into his ear. His breath speeds. His nails dig into my back. He drags them all the way down my body. Palm flat against my ass, he lifts me. His hand brushes against my sex.

"Oh." I squeeze his shoulders to contain the bliss. But fuck that. For once, I don't want anything contained. I want to feel every ounce of this, even if it's so much I scream.

He presses his fingertip into my clit. A shiver runs through me. I fight my urge to hold on to him. I want to feel all of this.

My sex clenches. My nipples tingle. Everywhere, I'm buzzing with something. I need Blake, all of him, all the way.

He rubs my clit. I inhale every ounce of ecstasy. Pressure builds inside me. More, more, more. I stare into Blake's eyes, commanding myself to hold his gaze. He's still so intense. It sends a shiver straight to my sex.

The pressure intensifies. More. More. More. I let out a moan. My eyes stay on his. Blake is touching me. Blake is making me come. Blake is still in control. But this is on my terms, too.

I tug at his hair, so he can feel how deep this goes. Almost. So damn close.

A shake overtakes me. Almost. Almost.

There. The pressure is as much I can take. An orgasm rises up inside me, taking me as high as I can go. And then I'm in freefall. Pleasure rushes all around me, to my tits, my stomach, my fingers and toes. My sex pulses in aftershocks.

Blake shifts, sliding his boxers to his knees. My hands stay on his shoulders but they're desperate to grab his cock. No time. He takes my hips and pulls me into position.

He slides inside me. Oh, hell yes. It's still novel, this whole sex thing, but Blake has me convinced it's always this amazing. There's something about it. I'm full. I'm exactly where I need to be.

It's perfect.

Blake guides me over him. I shift up, until he's barely inside me, then down, until he's filling me. It's a perfect sensation. Perfect friction. I use his shoulders for leverage to drive him deeper. Deeper. Pleasure whirs inside me. It builds with every shift of my hips. He digs his nails into my skin, groaning. I study his reaction. He's lost in this. Lost in me.

It's almost enough to bring me to the edge. But not yet. I need more from him, more of this. I lose myself in the sensation. Nothing matters except Blake inside me. His grip tightens. I move faster. Harder.

A orgasm blitzes though me. Tension, tension, tension and then it all releases. Ecstasy surges through me. Every part of me is buzzing. Every part of me is spent.

I turn my attention to Blake. His lips part. He groans. His eyelids press together. He brings his hand down on my ass. A spanking.

Heat rushes through me again. I like the feel of that. I dig my nails into his skin and groan.

He does it again. Again. Again. My flesh stings. A different pain than what we've had before, but it's just as perfect. I close my eyes and surrender to him.

Blake grabs my hips. He rearranges us, so we're both standing, so my knees are pressed up against the couch. I plant my hands on the cushion, arching my back like I'm offering myself to him.

He spanks me again. That same perfect mix of hurt and ecstasy rushes through my body. He thrusts into me. Deeper and harder. I dig my nails into the cushion. He's so deep it hurts, but that's another perfect mix.

"Blake," I groan. I arch my back so I can feel every one of his movements.

His grip tightens around my hips. His breath speeds. Almost there. He goes even harder. Even faster. I release my grip. Nothing to contain the sensation. It's so much. So tight I have to scream.

His hand comes down on the flesh of my ass. That same sting, only harder. The knot inside me tightens. God, almost. So damn close. So, so damn close.

He drags his nails over my hips. An orgasm overtakes him. I can feel it inside me. His cock pulses. He groans. Those nails dig into my skin. A shudder and he comes inside me.

It's enough to send me back over the edge. I come in waves, panting and screaming and clawing at the couch. Holy shit. That was amazing.

Blake shifts out of me. I collapse face first on the couch, soaking in all the delightful aftershocks.

He pulls his boxers back on. Reaches for his coffee.

Breath returns. I look up at Blake, but there's already something different about him. Whatever intimacy we had is gone. He's steel again.

Now's not the time to wallow. I came three times because of him. That makes for a good night.

I pull the blanket over my shoulders. "Do you have anything I can wear home?"

He nods and leads me to his office. There are three changes of clothes stuffed in a filing cabinet and one is women's clothing. A drawstring pair of sweats.

Blake plants a kiss on my lips. "You're meeting Ashleigh at six tomorrow."

"I know."

"Good luck." He pulls a t-shirt over his head. Steps into a pair of jeans.

I change into the sweats. It's unlikely he bought these for me.

More likely he keeps them around for his conquests.

I try not to let it bother me.

I fail.

***

Home is just as much a ghost town. There's a note on the table.

At Sarah's to study for a test. Already had dinner. Love you, Lizzy.

She was at Sarah's last night. Seems unlikely she’s back there. Great. My sister doesn't trust me enough to tell me what she's doing. I'm the uncool guardian who never lets her have any fun.

Exactly what I always wanted. Especially at twenty-one.

I change out of Blake's clothes and get into the shower. No doubt I should have washed the chlorine out of my hair the second I left the pool. I'm reasonably certain the stylist mentioned something about blonde hair turning green, but my hair wasn't exactly a priority.