Beauty and the Billionaire (BILLIONAIRE BOYS CLUB NOVEL) (12 page)

He reached for her on the bed and, after a bit of awkward fumbling, touched a soft material that crossed over her thighs. He hooked his fingers into the waistband and began to drag them downward, his mind full of thoughts of earlier this afternoon, when he’d done the same thing and buried his face between her legs.

She’d liked that. God, he’d liked it also, but he had to pace himself. Had to. He intended on making this last long enough for him to get his fill. He might never have such an opportunity again. So he slid them down her legs and tossed them onto the floor.

His mind was suddenly filled with images of Gretchen, stretched out and naked on the bed. For him. His cock was rock hard in his boxers. She’d said he could explore her. Would it count as exploring if he ripped off his own boxers and sank deep inside her? No. She’d given him permission to touch. No more, no less. He’d take that and be grateful.

“You’re quiet,” she said.

“Just thinking.”

“Uh-oh. Good thinking or bad thinking?”

“Thinking about you. Good thinking.”

“Sexy thinking, I hope.”

“Thinking about where to touch you next.”

“Wellllll,” she drawled. “I’m told my feet are quite ugly. I’d advise against heading in that direction.”

“Nothing on you is ugly,” he said, meaning it. He’d change nothing about her.

“Perhaps you did not see my feet,” she said, amused.

He reached for her foot, determined to prove her wrong, and cupped her heel. He was immediately distracted by the size of her foot. She was small in comparison to him. His thumb ran along the underside of her foot, and then he slid his fingers over the arch. “Feels lovely to me.”

She shivered underneath his touch. “Your fingers are ticklish.”

“Should I stop?”

“No. It’s not a bad ticklish. Just . . . makes me shiver.”

Hunter felt an insane urge to lean in and kiss the top of her foot.
Would her skin be soft there?
He leaned in and brushed his lips over it to find out.

Her breath whooshed. A soft moan touched his ears. “Oh, okay. That feels pretty good.”

His fingers slid up her calf, exploring her skin. “You’re very soft, Gretchen.”

“Mmm, yeah. I’m pretty soft all over, I hear. All those hours at the computer and stuff. It doesn’t exactly lend itself to tons of muscles. Gardening seems to be working for you, though. That’s one amazing six-pack I saw when you got out of the shower.”

Her endless chatter was light and irreverent, and he suspected she was keeping up a steady stream of conversation to keep him at ease. It was working, too. He chuckled. “I don’t just garden, you know. I have a gym and I work out daily.”

He felt her shift, and she was suddenly sitting up in the bed. Her hands reached out, patting his shoulders in the darkness. “Holy crap, Hunter. Did you just laugh?” Her searching fingers touched his cheek. “I’m so bummed. I finally got you to laugh and I didn’t get to see it.”

Hunter stilled under her touch. Her fingers were touching his scarred cheek. The urge to push her hands away was strong, and he had to fight to remain still.

Her fingers hesitated on him. “Does this bother you? My touch?”

Yes
, he wanted to say. He forced himself to swallow and answer instead, “Go ahead.”

Her fingers lightly touched his cheek again, tracing the line of his jaw, and then moving over the crease of one of his deepest scars. She continued, moving to his mouth and where the line of it extended unevenly. It’d been reconstructed during surgery, and he knew it twisted his smile. That was one of many reasons why he never did smile.

“I don’t find you ugly, Hunter. No one who knew you could.” Her voice was achingly soft. “If anything, I’m grateful that you have these scars, because they saved you for me—for this moment in time. And that’s a little selfish of me, isn’t it? And yet I can’t help but feel that way.”

His heart ached with the sweetness of her words. Hunter reached for her, cupping Gretchen’s cheek in his hand and drawing her forward. He wanted to kiss her. Their noses mashed together awkwardly, and he heard her giggle. He didn’t care. He liked that nothing was ever serious to her—it made him feel like there was less pressure on him to be perfect, to do this right. His Gretchen wouldn’t mind.

Hunter’s mouth slanted over hers, his lips placed in haphazard fashion against her own. It didn’t matter—she still tasted sweet, her lips soft. This time he was the aggressor, sucking on her lower lip until she parted her mouth, and then he stroked his tongue inside.

She moaned, and her tongue met his. Her hands curled in his hair, and she pressed her body up against him, even as they continued to kiss. Her nipples scraped against his chest, and his breath exploded in a rush.

She gasped, pulling back from him. “Too much?”

He groaned. It had almost been. Pressing a hand to his forehead, he took a moment to recover. Her fingers stroked and petted him, trying to comfort. Instead, it was just driving him crazier. He pried one of her hands off him and kissed her palm. “Isn’t this supposed to be on the headboard?”

“Oooh, right. I got distracted.” She laughed. “Guess you’ll have to spank me, huh?” The bed bounced, and her leg brushed against his. She’d flipped onto her stomach. After a moment, she announced, “Hands are now back in place. Do with me as you will.”

“I’m not going to spank you.” Though his hands itched to touch her ass.

“You’re no fun.”

And she was entirely too much fun, he thought to himself. His hands moved to her thigh and he trailed up her leg, then brushed over the fullness of her ass.

She made a pleased noise. “Mmmm. Keep going.”

He groaned at the sheer pleasure of being able to touch her. Both hands went to her ass and he cupped it, kneading her soft flesh. His cock ached so fucking much now that it was painful, but he couldn’t seem to stop touching her. Nor could he resist sliding a finger between her cheeks and exploring her. He found the wet heat of her sex . . . and she was soaked.

The change in her was immediate. Gretchen moaned and pushed back against his fingers, and one slid deep inside her. Oh, God, she was so hot and wet. Her inner muscles clenched around his finger, and he imagined his cock being squeezed by those muscles and—

With a groan, he came. Hot cum splashed inside his boxers—fuck, he was still in his goddamn boxers—and he withdrew from her to clutch at himself in dismay. He’d tried so hard to keep control and he’d ruined this.

She made a noise of protest as he pulled away. “Hunter?”

He rolled off the bed, humiliated.
Damn it.
He’d fucked this up. The front of his boxers clung to him with the evidence of his shame.

“Hunter? Where are you? Please don’t leave.” Her voice was soft.

“I . . . I can’t stay. I . . .” He couldn’t bring himself to say the words.
I came all over myself like a boy.

“But your touch feels so good. And I ache so bad.” He heard the blankets rustle. “Won’t you come touch me?”

“Gretchen,” he said harshly. “I . . . need to clean up.” There. Now he’d admitted it and she would leave him alone.

“After you clean up, will you come back and finish touching me?”

Astonishment made him turn, even though it was dark and he couldn’t see her face. Wasn’t she embarrassed by his lack of control? “You still want me to touch you?”

“Hey, you got yours. I want to get mine.”

“But that’s not how this works. I wanted to make it good for you.”

“And I intend on you making it good for me,” she said. “No sense in us stopping now if we’re having fun. And I thought we were having fun.”

“Some of us were having too much fun,” he said wryly, her good humor restoring his.

“Oh, my God, did you just make a joke? I should leave you in the dark all the time.”

“Very funny.”

“I know. I’m full of sparkling humor. Sparkling humor and soft, soft skin that you need to come over here and touch.”

He heard the bedsheets rustle again. “I think there’s a stack of towels on the chair by the fireplace. Fix yourself up and come back to me. I’m just going to wait right here.”

Hunter found the stack of towels and stripped off his boxers, then wiped himself off. He still felt a little foolish, but then Gretchen made a needy little moan and his attention riveted back to her.

“Are you coming back?” she asked.

He approached the bed, extending a hand forward once he crossed the room. His hand encountered Gretchen’s upraised flank since she’d changed positions on the bed. Skimming a hand over her, he mentally pictured her new pose—she was now kneeling on the bed, her ass raised in the air, knees spread. Asking—no, begging—for him to touch her.

Hunter groaned.

“Touch me, Hunter. Use your fingers on me.”

He didn’t want to use his fingers—he wanted to use his mouth and taste her sweetness again. He pushed forward, leaning in to skim his lips over her buttock, enjoying her quick, noisy intake of breath. He wanted more of a response from her, wanted her to lose control like he had.

It had suddenly become his new goal.

Hunter nipped at her hip, and she gave a squeak of surprise. That was better. He let his lips trail over her skin, moving toward his goal. He felt her body tense with anticipation when he leaned her forward and skimmed his fingers between her legs, searching for that wet heat he’d felt before.

He knew he’d touched the right spot when he felt that slick clench of muscles in response and felt her entire body jump. Gretchen moaned his name, sounding breathless and wild. He moved his mouth to where his fingers had found her hot core, and he brushed his tongue up against it, tasting her. She tasted wet and tart with need; it was a taste he wanted on his tongue forever.

A shudder racked through Gretchen, and he brushed his tongue against her skin again, seeking her heat.

“Oh, God.” She jerked against him. “Right there. Oh, keep going.” She quivered against him as he continued to work her pussy with his tongue, stroking inside her and flicking at her sex. She rocked against him wildly, and his fingers dug into her flesh, his excitement building with hers.

“More, Hunter,” she breathed. “I need more.”

He stabbed his tongue into her, pressing forward with every stroke, until she was whimpering against him and little quivers were rocking through her body.

“My clit, baby,” she instructed him. “Get my clit for me, baby.”

Her excitement had ignited his cock—already he was rock hard again. He wouldn’t last long, either. With every quiver and moan she made, he felt a shudder of desire rock through him as well. But he wanted to make sure she came before he lost his control again.

He did as she’d instructed, reaching between her legs and finding the slick folds of her sex from the front. He slid his fingertips between them, searching for her clit. Her sharp cry echoed in the room the moment he made contact, and she writhed against him. The sound she made was incoherent with need.

And hell, he wanted more of that. So he rubbed her clit between his fingers and worked it even as he continued to tongue her pussy, lapping up her juices.

She made a throaty cry and then gave a full-body shudder, racked with tremors. New moisture flooded against his mouth, and he groaned in response, his own pleasure rocketing forth.

He’d made her come so hard. It was the most incredible feeling in the fucking world. He pulled away while she panted, trying to get her breath back, and lightly kissed her buttock. She’d given him a gift tonight.

And he’d come in his boxers and now on the side of her blankets.
Hell.
He was just a fucking mess. He pulled away and grabbed another towel.

Still a goddamn virgin. He couldn’t even wait to be inside her to finish.

“Mmmm, Hunter?” she called after him a moment later, sounding sated. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

He’d actually contemplated just that. “I’m not . . . I fucked this up.”

“Fucked it up how?”

He was silent.

“Hunter, if it’s because you’re still a virgin, don’t worry about it. We’ll take our time. I’m kind of enjoying endless amounts of foreplay.” She chuckled to herself. “You didn’t bring a condom with you tonight, did you?”

“No,” he admitted.

“Well, then, there’s no sense in hating on yourself, is there? No glove, no love. It’s probably a good thing that we never got further than the heavy petting. Now, come on.” He heard her pat the mattress. “I kind of felt like cuddling, if you’re game.”

Spend the rest of the evening with his hands on her naked body? She didn’t even have to ask. He finished toweling himself clean again and then reapproached the bed. He tossed the now-messy blanket off the side, hesitated a moment, then took a deep breath and slid under the sheet next to her.

She immediately moved forward and tucked her arms around him, laying her cheek on his chest again.

“That was incredible,” she told him in a soft voice. “Thank you.”

“I should be thanking you,” he said gruffly.

“Mmm, I don’t know. You have a very talented mouth.” She yawned. “Don’t sneak away on me again, okay?”

He ran his fingers through her hair, thinking that this was quite possibly the best place in the universe to be. “I won’t.”

***

When Hunter woke up, he thought it had all been a dream. Exploring and touching Gretchen, making her writhe with desire. The way she’d been so open and sexual with him.

The tousled hair on the pillow next to him told him that this was reality.

Hunter reached out and brushed a lock off her face, watching her sleep with a feeling in his chest that was something close to gratitude but more like . . . elation. God, he loved touching her. Being with her. There was no one on earth more wonderful than Gretchen. The fact that this gorgeous woman would let him touch her—hell, wanted to be touched by him—was a miracle.

He wanted to do something for her. His first instinct was to go and trim every one of his roses and shower her with them. But he gave her roses every day. It wouldn’t be special enough.

He needed more. He’d have to give this some thought.

She mumbled something in her sleep and rolled over in the bed, her red hair spreading over her pillow. He longed to touch her again, but she was sleeping so peacefully that he didn’t want to disturb her. He’d get up and work out instead. Maybe when he was done, she’d be awake and they could spend some time together.