Baby Love: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance (10 page)

I traced my tongue around the edge of them, my hands reaching up to grasp her breasts. She was already bucking underneath my mouth. I pulled her panties to the side and found her delicate, pink nub. I flicked my tongue against it and she made the noise I was waiting for. I licked her hungrily, drinking in her hot juices. I traced my fingers around her mound. Just when I thought she couldn’t take anymore, I pulled away and unzipped my pants. She sat upright, her face flushed, and unbuttoned my shirt, her fingers trembling.

When I was entirely naked, I watched her watching me. Her eyes were tracing the tattoos on my chest and abdomen, following the intricate patterns of ink. “I didn’t know you had tattoos,” she said. “You didn’t the last-“ she stopped.

I put my fingers under her chin and forced her to look at me. I was smiling, hoping my dimples would make her even more flustered. It worked. “I didn’t have tattoos the last time I had a public photoshoot? Yeah, I’ve been busy collecting ink now that I don’t have to be the city’s great shining light of football hope.” The words were bitter in my mouth. I kissed her red lips to cleanse myself of them. “I like that you saw my spread in Sports Illustrated.”

She kissed me fully, sinking her tongue into my mouth. “I might have had a spare copy under my pillow,” she confessed.

I dug my hands into the sides of her back and pulled her to me so her ass was on the edge of the desk. I ripped off her panties with one hand and placed myself at her entrance. She was gasping for breath already. My tip was against her hot slit when she said a word I didn’t want to hear. “Wait.”

I took a reluctant step back. She was biting her lip, her glasses still on and her hair still up in that ponytail. “I’m a virgin,” she whispered, her green eyes filling up with tears. “Is that a problem?”

I felt my dick grow even harder at her words. “Why would that be a problem?”

“I just. I felt like I should be honest about that for some reason. I figured it couldn’t hurt to tell you.”

I couldn’t be a total asshole to her. “Are you sure you’re okay to do this?” I sighed the words, hoping that I would still be getting what I wanted.

She smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I am.” She reached behind her back and unhooked her lace bra. Her glorious tits sprung into full view, her pink areolas perfect circles, her red nipples hard on her chest. I stepped forward and took each one of her fleshy mounds into my mouth, slowly sucking on her as she gasped for air. I moved my finger between her legs. She was soaking wet.

I slipped a single finger inside of her, enjoying the little hiccup of pleasure she let escape her lips as she felt me inside of her. I kept licking her tits in circles. They jiggled underneath my mouth. I put another finger in her and she gasped again. I left a trail of kisses up from her collarbone to her ear, stopping my mouth beside her auburn hair. “Are you ready?” I asked her.

She nodded. “I want you inside of me.”

I pulled my hand out and laid her back on the desk, kissing her mouth one more time.

Then there was a knock at the door. I slammed my hand onto the desk in frustration, still hovering over Rachel’s naked body. I pressed the button for Amanda, my secretary. “Amanda, who in the royal fuck is at the door right now?”

“Mr. Morehouse is here for your eleven-o’clock lunch,” she snipped. I knew she was upset with me for ignoring her. I didn’t care.

“Tell him to fucking wait outside, then. Reschedule for noon. Or…actually,” I said, reaching down with my mouth to gently nibble at Rachel’s nipples. “Reschedule for tomorrow. And clear my calendar for the rest of the day.”

“Are you sure, Mr. Reid?”

“Fucking do it or I fire you,” I retorted.

There was a long pause. “Yes, Mr. Reid.”

I hung up. “Sorry about that,” I said to Rachel. I expected the mood to be entirely ruined by the interruption.

But Rachel was smiling. She reached up and bit my earlobe, her hot breath whispering to me. “I like the idea of us nearly being caught. It turns me on.”

She pushed me off of her and I staggered backwards into the red chair. She wiggled her body as she stepped over to me, taking off her glasses and letting loose the bun of hair on her head so it fell around her shoulders. Then she slid herself slowly down my shaft, her tight, wet muscles gliding over me. The feeling of her entirely bare was almost more than I could handle. I’d only had sex one time without a condom, and that had been years ago in a drunken stupor.

This felt like a dream. I moaned as she moved up and down over my hard cock. I grabbed her loose hair and wrapped it around my fists as she kissed me furiously. Her ass slapped on my thighs, and the smell of her warm skin and sex filled the air, bringing me dangerously close to climax.

She pulled her face back from mine and dug her fingernails into my back. “Oh God,” she moaned, louder than any noise she’d made so far. “This feels so fucking amazing.” Her eyes fluttered back into her head and she let out a primal scream as she came, her muscles clenching against me.

I couldn’t hold it anymore. I came inside of her.

And then we did it all over again. As we laid on top of my desk an hour and a half later, panting, I turned to her. ““Raymond,” I said simply.

She looked at me, puzzled. “Raymond?”

“The janitor who you presumed I don’t know. That’s his name. He has six children and twenty-four grandchildren. He moved to the United States eight years ago. I pay him ninety thousand dollars a year. Don’t pretend to know me. I don’t pretend to know you.” I slid off the desk and pulled my pants back on, leaving her there to take in my words.

I wasn’t all asshole, all the time. Some part of me needed for her to know that.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

RACHEL

“You’re acting weird,” Callie said to me when I got home that afternoon. I knew I was wincing as I walked. I was sore in all the best ways possible. Yet suddenly, I felt like a thirteen-year-old who was convinced that everyone could somehow tell she was on her period just by looking at her.

“
You’re
acting weird,” I countered childishly, opening the fridge and pulling out a cane sugar soda and popping the tab. Callie squinted her eyes and walked closer to me. “Don’t do the sister thing,” I groaned. “Don’t read my mind. Get away from me!” I tried to avoid her but I couldn’t. She’d cornered me. She looked at my hair. I’d put it back up in a bun before I’d staggered out of Zane’s office. Everyone had been looking at me. I hadn’t been exactly discreet with my noises while I climaxed. I was ragingly loud. I knew that.

“Your hair is perfect,” Callie sniffed suspiciously.

I looked at her, confused. “So? What does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s the late afternoon. Your hair is never perfect in the late afternoon. It’s always falling out of your bun or your ponytail or whatever dowdy, sister wife braid you pulled it into earlier in the day. You’re always up to your eyeballs in one chemical or another so you never fix it. That means you re-did your bun since this morning, and you must have re-done it recently.” She peered at me with narrowed eyes and sniffed my neck. “You smell like a man.”

I pushed her off of me, carrying my can of soda to the barstools. “You’re paranoid,” I said, but I couldn’t avoid the blush that was appearing.

Callie shook her head. “You were
making out
with a guy today. You said you were going to be at the lab.”

I’d lied earlier to avoid awkward questions. I had told her I was going to be at the university checking in with my coworkers. “I
was
at the lab,” I said, trying to sound casual. I grabbed the newspaper on the countertop and pretended to be reading it. But my eyes were only staring at the page and not absorbing anything.

“So if I pick up the phone and call Richard or Betty at the college they’ll say you were there?”

I shrugged. “Probably so.”

Callie pulled out her cell phone and dialed. I held my breath. We were both playing a game of chicken to see who would hold out the longest before cracking. I heard a voice pick up on the other end of the line and I cried out. “Okay! Alright. Okay. Hang up the phone, I wasn’t at the college today.” Callie always won.

She hung up the phone with a self-satisfied smirk. “Spill. You were with Zane, weren’t you?”

I put my face in my hands to hide the grin that had erupted at the mention of his name. “Yes,” I admitted.

Callie pulled my hands away from my face to see the grin and blush there. “Oh my God. You slept with him. You let him punch your v-card!”

I couldn’t stop smiling even though the last thing on Earth I wanted to do was admit to Callie that she was right.

She gasped again. “Oh my God. I’m right. I was joking but you’re not arguing with me or asking me to stop. You had sex with Zane Reid. Oh my God. Rachel!
Rachel
. He’s your business partner!”

I opened my mouth to protest but the doorbell rang and saved me.

“Do not move, missy,” Callie barked at me. She came back with a pile of boxes very similar to the ones I’d received the other day. My stomach turned over. She had a knowing look on her face.

“Those are mine,” I said, reaching out to grab them from her. But she pulled them away from me.

“It’s my house and my address on these,” Callie retorted pettily, marching past me and into the living room. She set the boxes down on the coffee table. I tried fighting her off and we ended up slamming couch pillows against one another. She actually pulled at my hair and I shrieked.

“What in the actual fucking hell is going on?” We froze comically, pillows in mid-air. Patrick was standing there, his tie off, his work shirt unbuttoned at the sleeves and his briefcase at his side.

“She’s invading my privacy,” I said first.

Callie rolled her eyes. “Do
not
take her side over mine, Patrick, I swear to God.”

Patrick looked confused. “I still don’t understand enough to
take
a side, but okay,” he replied. Callie and I both started yelling over each other to explain each of our sides of the story. He held up his hands in surrender. He looked exhausted. “One Cobb sister at a time,
please
. I beg of you.
Please
.”

I took a deep breath to explain. “I received more mail and Callie is insisting that
she
get to open it.” It was another moment before I realized Callie had only let me go first to distract me. She grabbed the biggest box and upturned it onto the sofa. I yelled to stop her but it was too late. A mountain of lace, silk, and ribbons fell out of the package.

“Aha!” Callie yelled in triumph. She pointed at me with victory in her eyes. “I
knew
it. More panties from your new boyfriend
Zane.”

I didn’t know what made me do it, but my eyes darted self-consciously over to Patrick, whose face had turned wooden and lifeless. He didn’t say anything. “I think you two can work this out between yourselves,” he said, turning and walking back to his bedroom.

Callie’s face fell. “Patrick? Patrick, wait. Are you alright? Was work terrible?” Her voice trailed off as she followed him upstairs.

I picked up the underwear and shoved it all back into the box, blushing as I saw crotchless panties and balconette bras with scraps of lace substituting for cups. The other two boxes were filled with dresses, most of them as flimsy as the one he’d sent me the other day. I was re-assembling the boxes when I realized there was a note taped to the top of the largest one. I’d missed it in Callie’s impromptu emptying of it.

R-

I want to see you again. Tonight. I’m coming to pick you up at six p.m. I can’t wait any longer than that to taste you again.

-Z

My knees trembled as I read it. I collected my boxes and headed back to my room. I needed a shower and a change of clothing. And a Tylenol for good measure. I might be in pain but the sex had been so amazing that I was willing to go another fifteen times before midnight if that was what it took.

Patrick and Callie didn’t come down from their bedroom. I’d thrown on a red linen sundress that barely contained my chest; the creased fabric kissed the tops of my thighs. I left a note for them on the kitchen counter saying they shouldn’t wait up for me. I was glad I didn’t have to see them. I had zero interest in explaining myself. I didn’t need to be told that what I was doing was irresponsible.

I was glowing. Nobody could take that away from me.

Zane was unexpectedly half an hour early. I was already sitting on the stoop enjoying the perfect summer weather, so when he pulled up I skipped to the black Land Rover. He was still in his business clothes. I was barely in the front seat before he pulled me over to him and kissed me fully on the mouth. I melted into him. It was minutes before we pulled away from each other, panting.

“We’re going to my place,” he said, sticking his hand up my skirt and resting his fingertips right next to my mound. I shuddered with pleasure. He pulled away from the curb and I cast a final glance up at my sister’s townhouse. Patrick was standing in the upstairs bedroom window looking down on me. I gave him a short wave and a smile, but he didn’t return it in kind. Instead he shut the curtain.

“I missed you,” Zane said, smiling at me from behind his aviator sunglasses. His dimples erupted, his white teeth revealed in a blinding flash of sexiness.

“Drive fast,” I retorted.

Zane’s place was glorious. His penthouse took up the top three floors of the skyscraper; he’d removed part of the upstairs so the wall of windows in the main living space was three stories high. The windows overlooked the heart of downtown, the river, and all the way out to Lake Michigan.

I barely got a glimpse before he pushed me against the wall and started kissing me passionately. He ran his fingers up into my hair and rained kisses down the side of my neck and across my clavicle. I pushed back against his body, breathing in the scent of his cologne. “Good rest of the day at work?” I whispered as he unbuttoned my dress and slipped it over my head.