Beauty and the Billionaire (BILLIONAIRE BOYS CLUB NOVEL) (10 page)

It did not have her moaning with her own pleasure as she took him into her throat.

He groaned, his mind full of images of her.

He’d never expected that in a million years. He was still shaken to his core by her.

That phone call at dinner had aroused something in him that he was unfamiliar with—jealousy. She’d gotten a phone call from a man, and white-hot agony had pierced his mind. He wanted her. He didn’t want that stranger she was so friendly with to have her.

Gretchen was his.

And before tonight, he’d have cast aside that idea. She didn’t want a scarred, lonely man. She deserved someone as lively and full of life as she was.

And yet tonight, she’d touched him. She’d taken him into her mouth and pleasured him. And when he’d tried to pull away, she’d insisted on finishing him.

His cock grew hard again, just thinking about her. Automatically, he took himself in his hand, stroking as he closed his eyes.

He’d been blown away by the sight of her gorgeous breasts the other day when she’d flashed him. He allowed that visual to mix in with his erotic thoughts of her now. Her breasts were full, with small, rosy nipples. He pictured her naked as she knelt in front of him, the tips brushing against his skin as she took his cock in her mouth. Groaning, he fisted his cock harder.

At the thought of her beautiful lips parting to take him, the tip of her tongue flicking over the head, he came with a shout, spraying his cum on the path before him. Drained, Hunter collapsed to his knees, staring at his greenhouse.

He’d never picture it quite the same way ever again. Never be able to come here without seeing her kneeling in front of him.

It was his first sexual experience with someone else. And it had been flat-out amazing. He didn’t know what had possessed Gretchen to give such a gift to him, but he’d treasure it always.

***

Hunter dressed with care for dinner the next night. He’d spent the last day in turmoil, his world upended by his interlude with Gretchen.

He’d worked out until his skin dripped with sweat, then headed to the showers. But the showers made him think of Gretchen and how she’d discovered him naked. So he’d jerked off and then jerked off again when he thought of her, easing her robe open.

If she knew he was a virgin, she’d be appalled. Someone as open and forthright with her sexuality as Gretchen would laugh at him. So he needed to be relaxed at dinner. Act as if nothing had changed between them.

And yet he picked her a rose with extra care. He’d liked seeing one of his flowers behind her ear the other night. Perhaps he’d get to put this one on her, run his fingers along the delicate shell of her ear, tuck it into her red hair . . .

Throw her down on the table and fuck the hell out of her, make her give those wild, sexy little moans again.

Hunter shook his head, willing the visual out of his mind and for his cock to go down. He took a few moments to compose himself, then entered the dining room they used for their meetings.

It was empty.

She’d called off dinner. She was embarrassed by what she’d done. Disappointment flashed through him, and Hunter moved to the table, picking up the note there.

Dinner’s running late. I’m in the kitchens. G.

Immediately, he headed for the kitchens, hope putting a spring in his step. She wasn’t avoiding him, then. He adjusted his collar, finding it rather warm in the house, and played with the cuffs of his shirt as he entered the kitchen, rose in hand.

He didn’t see her at first. The delicious scent of baking bread filled the air, but he could see no one. His gaze scanned the kitchen and disappointment flared again.

Then Hunter noticed her bent over, her lovely ass flexing as she pulled something out of the oven. He immediately went hard again, longing tearing through him.

God, he wanted her.

“Oh! Hey,” Gretchen said, turning and closing the door to the oven with her foot. “Sorry about this. I thought the roast would be ready in a half hour, but it’s still looking a little pinker than I’d like, so we need to give it a bit more time. That’s why I’m still in here.” She set the bread pan on the counter and smiled at him. “Hope you don’t mind filling up on bread and appetizers until it’s done.”

He gave a brief, jerky nod, unable to take his eyes off her smiling face.

“Is that for me?”

“What?” He glanced down and noticed he was still clutching the pale yellow rose he’d picked for her. “Yes,” he said, internally wincing at the brusque tone of his voice.

“The bud’s tight on this one,” she said, pulling off her oven mitts and taking the flower from him. She lifted it to her nose and closed her eyes, giving a slight groan of pleasure that made him tense with anticipation all over again. “Smells wonderful.”

“Yes,” he said again. He didn’t know what else to say. He was mesmerized by her.

As he watched, she lifted the rose and brushed the rosebud against her full lower lip. “Soft.”

His cock jerked. The way she’d moved it against her lips made him think of yesterday. Oh, fuck.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Ready for dinner?”

“I . . .” He couldn’t go anywhere. Not with this aching hard-on. Couldn’t sit with her and pretend that he wasn’t ready to spill in his pants. “No. I must go.”

And before she could protest, he walked out of the kitchen.

Like a fucking coward. A fucking coward who needed an ice-cold shower to get his cock back under control.

***

Gretchen was getting frustrated.

She sighed and flopped down on the couch in the library, glaring up at the blue mural on the ceiling.

She’d thought their little interlude in the greenhouse would make him open up to her a bit more. Get him to bend a bit. She wanted more from him. Last night, she’d dreamed of kissing him for hours. Nothing else but just sitting in each other’s arms, exploring each other’s lips as if not a care in the world.

She wanted that. She wanted to kiss Hunter, and so much more.

But she hadn’t seen him for two days. She’d invited him to dinner and he’d declined. Was he done with her now that she’d gone down on him?

It didn’t make sense. Every instinct she had about men—and she’d dated around quite a bit during her college days—told her that Audrey had nailed it and he was a virgin. It explained his reactions perfectly, his wariness any time she came on to him.

And despite his virginity, he still wanted her. It was obvious in every look he sent her way.

So why was he avoiding her?

Maybe he was uncomfortable with approaching her and asking for more? Should she be bold and come right out with it? Put his hand on her breast and her hand on his cock and say, “I want this”?

Sighing, she picked up another letter and skimmed it. “Good God, these two are horny little buggers,” she muttered to herself, reading yet another description of Ben licking at Lula’s perfect feminine petals. The letters had been arousing at first, but with her own frustrations in the relationship department, they just became excruciating. It was no fun to read about someone else having incredible sex when she couldn’t even get Hunter to kiss her.

She folded up a letter and tossed it aside. Hell, she needed to get Hunter in here to read some of these letters. Then maybe he’d be just as worked up as her.

Gretchen stared down at the folded letter on the table. That was it.

Perfect.

Get Hunter in here. Somehow get him to read a letter. Then, her reluctant virgin would be putty in her hands.

A wicked smile curved her mouth.

She penned a quick note and folded it, then rang the bell pull. Five minutes later, Eldon arrived.

He gave her a sour look. “What may I help you with?”

Gretchen held the note out to him. “Can you please give this to Hunter?”

Eldon looked down at the note. With a disapproving sniff, he took it in his hand. “More commentary about my cooking?”

“Nope. I’m inviting Hunter in for some research help.”

Eldon raised an eyebrow. “I am sure Mr. Buchanan would prefer not to be disturbed with such requests. If you need assistance, you are to go to me.”

Yick.
The thought of having Eldon assist made her want to throw up her cookies. Thank god he had no idea what he’d just suggested. “No, I’m pretty sure he’d prefer to help me with this on his own. Anyhow, can you just give him the note?”

“Very well.” Man, she didn’t think one person could stuff that much disapproval in two words, but she was wrong.

Eldon disappeared down the hall and Gretchen watched the door, a bundle of nerves. After five minutes had passed and no one showed up, she began to feel silly. Of course he wouldn’t come the instant she summoned him. He could have been busy. She returned to the letters, pulling out a few that would be likely candidates for her seduction scenario, and began to type in the next letter in sequence.

There was a knock at the door some time later.

Gretchen looked up just as the door opened. Hunter stood there in the doorway, his frame poker-stiff as ever, his face inscrutable. He wore a dark navy dress shirt, the collar slightly open. His hair was damp, as if he’d just gotten out of the shower, the ends curling, and she wanted to touch it.

He cleared his throat and then focused his gaze in her direction—but not on her. “Is there a problem?”

“Yes. You won’t look at me.”

He looked startled at that, his gaze flying to her. “I—”

“It’s okay,” she interrupted, getting to her feet and picking up the stack of letters she’d set aside. “I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable. I just know that you always look away when you’re uneasy. You’ve been avoiding me since the greenhouse.”

He said nothing, but she watched the red rise in his cheeks.

“Look, Hunter, I apologize if my actions made you uncomfortable. I want us to be friends. We can still be friends, can’t we?” She forced herself to keep her expression as innocent as possible.

“Friends,” he bit out after a long moment. “Of course.”

“Great. I thought I’d ask you, friend to friend, if you could help me with my project a little.”

He shut the door behind him, stepping into the room a bit further. “Of course.”

She smiled and extended the stack of carefully folded letters to him. “Perfect. I’m trying to transcribe this in a way that’ll be interesting to readers, and I’m having trouble with the dynamics.”

Hunter picked up the first letter and began to open it. “Dynamics?”

She laid her hand over the letters—so he couldn’t read them too early and bolt—and gestured at the couch. “Shall we sit?”

She half-expected him to decline, but after a moment’s hesitation, he followed. Discreetly, she glanced at his crotch. He was already hard with wanting her, unable to control himself. In that moment, she
loved
his virginity.

Gretchen slid a little closer to Hunter, leaning over his arm and pressing her breast against him, pretending interest in the letters she’d handed him. “I think if we’re able to act out some of the things that are described, it’ll be easier for me to write them. I’m a visual learner, after all.”

“I see.” His gaze moved toward her, and then he glanced away as if burned.

She noticed he was careful to keep his good side of his face toward her, and a little part of her heart ached to see that. Did he truly think he was so hideous that he needed to hide who he was? The scars were not beautiful, but they were fascinating. They made him different.

She liked different.

“Shall we start, then?” She reached for the first letter and brushed her breast against his arm again, her nipple hardening at the contact. Gretchen had to stifle a moan of pleasure. He was so big, hard, and warm against her and he smelled divine. Hell, give her a few more minutes of this torture and she’d be rubbing up against him like a cat in heat. “Why don’t I read the first one? You can read the next.”

“Very well,” Hunter said. She noticed his gaze had moved from the letters to her breasts.

Gretchen cleared her throat politely, unfolded the first letter, and then peeked over at him. “There is a man and a woman mentioned in this letter. I’ll be Lula, and I’d appreciate it if you can be Ben for me.”

He gave a quick nod.

“
My dearest Ben
,” Gretchen began in a soft voice. “
It has been thirty days since we last saw each other. How languidly time passes when I am not in your arms. How achingly slow the sun moves through the skies, and the days cycle into evening. The nights are the hardest for me.
” She peeked up at him again, but he hadn’t moved away. Encouraged, she continued. “
It seems the darkest hours are our time, my love. Last night I had a dream of our most recent party together. I remember that you found me in the dark. You put your hand on mine and guided it to your lips.
”

A hint of a frown touched Hunter’s mouth, bunching the scars on his cheek. He reached for her hand. Fascinated, she was so distracted by his touch she almost missed the graze of his mouth over her knuckles, and she felt heat flash through her anew.

Gretchen’s voice grew a little shaky as she read on. “
Then, it was like you changed your mind on what you wished to do to me. You took my hand and raised it over my head, pinning it there. I remembered that you held me down on the sofa and your weight settled over me
.”

Hunter stiffened against her, and Gretchen thought he would refuse her. Then he laced his fingers in hers and lifted her hand over her head. In a swift move that left her breathless, he pushed her down to the couch, his weight settling over her and between her legs.

His face was close enough to kiss, his breath brushing against her skin. His gaze moved over her face, and Gretchen felt a hint of nerves.

He studied her. “Was this a plan to get me to touch you?” he asked softly. His thumb caressed her wrist, his eyes boring into hers.

“Who, me?” She gave him an innocent look. “I just wanted you to help me act through some of the letters.”

“Mmmhmmm.”

She shifted her hips, wriggling underneath him a little until she felt his cock cradled against her hips. A sigh of pure pleasure escaped her. “I might have had a slight ulterior motive. Slight.”