Billionaire Bad Boys of Romance Boxed Set (10 Book Bundle) (33 page)

When at last the shirt fluttered to the ground I sighed and stretched out a hand, inviting him to come to me, but he didn't. He unbuckled his belt first, taking his sweet time, and the strength of his hands, barely restrained, gave me a bittersweet thrill. The whisper of the belt drawing through the loops on his pants sent a shiver up my spine, and when he popped the button of his fly I licked my lips.

He let his pants and boxers fall to the ground and stood next to the bed, naked, his erection enormous and straining, standing straight out from his body. Reaching out, I took it in my hand and drew him toward me. For once he complied, climbing onto the bed with me and straddling my chest, letting gravity and his girth stretch my lips out. My hands went around his ass and dug in, my fingernails clawing against his skin. He felt so good, so hot and fine, and I moved my head forward, gulping his cock greedily. The taste of him stirred my core again, and I thought of taking his length into my pussy, riding it until we both couldn't stand.

Above me Malcolm grabbed the headboard. It groaned under his grip as he began to thrust. He held himself back, quick and tight little nudges, but still enough for me to force myself to relax and let him rock his hips, letting his cock slide in and out of my mouth at will. The muscles under my hands were hard and trembling, and as I dug in and he began to pant, I wished we could stay like this forever.

In and out, he let his cock slide into the tight seal of my lips, and I was rewarded with tiny drops of sweet precum. I let my tongue swirl over them, licking up every last pearl until I felt him stutter and stop his stroke, clearly driven to the edge. "Sadie," he moaned, and then swung off me.

I protested wordlessly at the loss of his warmth, but he didn't leave me hanging. Instead he drew the covers up over both of us and pulled me gently on top of him.

"I don't want to hurt your side any more than it already is," he whispered. "I have to let you take over.

I shook my head. "I don't want to," I told him. "I trust you."

He smiled at that. "I know," he said. "But I don't trust me. I could be at death's door and still be fucking you. I have no control when it comes to you. I just want to... to..." His hands floated just an inch from my face, and I felt the heat rolling from his palms. Gently he outlined me in the dark and I reveled in the phantom touch of him before moving down and swiping my dripping pussy over his thick cock. Just the sensation of his cock against my slick flesh made us both gasp, as though we had never felt it before. Biting my lip, I angled my hips and began to nudge him inside.

It was harder than I thought it would be. The wound in my side screeched in protest, and more than once I had to stop, panting, and let Malcolm hold my trembling body up so I didn't sink further onto his erection before I was ready, but when I finally slid him home—all of him—I collapsed forward and buried my face in his shoulder. His arms came around me and held me. The rough texture of his pubic hair ground into my clit and his cock filled me to the brim.

He ran his hands over me, as though soothing a wild beast, and then under me he slowly drew out and thrust in.

The sweetness of it brought tears to my eyes. He wrapped me up in his body, holding me immobile as he pushed his hips against mine, his cock sliding in and out of my tight channel, the mound of his pubic bone grating over my clit, still hypersensitive from his earlier rough handling. I felt another orgasm build in me as our hips slammed together and he held me tight against him, our hearts hammering in time against our chests, as though trying to reach each other though blood and flesh and bone.

His cock swept in and out of me, and I coiled and curled over him, my mouth finding his ear. "Malcolm," I whispered. "Malcolm, Malcolm, make me come, make me come around you..."

"I will," he breathed. "Sadie, beautiful Sadie, my muse, my muse..." His hands went to my ass and gripped my cheeks tightly, suddenly moving me over him in different ways, angling up against the upper wall of my core, thrusting high and deep while my clit scraped and rubbed against him. My mouth opened and I swirled my tongue over his ear, slipping and probing into the folds, gentle and urgent, the same way he ate me out, and Malcolm lost control beneath me. His hips thrust and he thrashed, rolling in the bed under me as his cock plunged into my core, but all the while still carefully keeping me immobile so as not to hurt me. His fingers dug in, and I knew he would leave bruises, but I didn't care.

Then he thrust into me deeper and harder than ever before and I came, shuddering and shivering. Under me Malcolm called my name and I fastened my hands in his hair, pulling and tugging his head back until I revealed his throat to me. As I came I bit down and he cried out and thrust wildly beneath me, carried away, and I felt his cock coil and tighten before emptying his seed into me in short, sharp bursts. Together we strove in the warmth of his bed, in the light of the city, and when it was over I fell asleep on top of him with his cock still inside me.

*
* * *

I woke in the middle of the night. We had shifted positions and Malcolm slept beside me, one arm thrown over my chest, and his breathing was deep and slow. He looked almost human in the light of the streetlamps outside, his face half-smooshed into the pillow under his head. The space between my thighs was delightfully sore and raw and sticky with his cum, and I clamped my legs together, as though I could keep that feeling with me forever. I rolled into him and kissed his forehead on an impulse.

He woke almost immediately, his cherry wood eyes black in the dim light, and I wanted to fall into them. Which was really silly, I reflected, because that'd probably hurt both parties. I must get sappy after getting laid.

No, not just getting laid...

"Hey," I said.

"Hello," he replied, all formality before tightening his arm around me and drawing me closer. The wound in my side, now unobscured by pleasure, tweaked and I winced. Malcolm froze immediately, and then moved toward me himself. I let him come. I'd spent quite a bit of time chasing after him, it seemed. It was only right that he return the favor a little bit. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

I smiled and burrowed into his shoulder. He smelled good, rich and manly and dark, and I let myself revel in his scent. "I think I'm fine," I said. An understatement.

"Good," he said. "I'm glad. I worried I might hurt you."

"Don't worry about that," I said. "I'd let you know if you did."

His mouth twisted. "I'm sure you would.” Then he smiled. "And I might like it."

"If you want me to whip you and peg you, you only have to ask."

The look on his face was priceless. "I never said anything about pegging and whipping," he said.

I laughed at him. "Then what were you thinking of?"

"I was thinking more giving me a slap or something, after which I would tie you up and show you just how nice a little slapping can be."

Good grief, I was getting turned on by him talking about slapping me. The memory of our first painting session rose, when he slapped and flicked my nipples, driving me to an orgasm that nearly broke me apart, and I blushed. He saw my cheeks darken and grinned at me. "You are precious, Sadie," he said, running his hands through my hair.

For a long time we lay there, listening to the sounds of the city, far away and faint, but still active even this late at night. Finally I drew back and looked into his eyes.

“Malcolm,” I murmured. “What are we? Like, boyfriend and girlfriend? Artist and muse?”

He tilted his head and looked very thoughtful. “Lovers,” he said at last. “We are lovers.
The
lovers, in The Kiss” He was referring to the Rodin piece, the man and the woman caught in a passionate embrace.

“I hope not,” I said. “They look really uncomfortable in that position.”

"A little discomfort never hurt anyone."

"That's... that doesn't even make any sense."

He chuckled. “Well fine, if you're looking for
sense
I'm afraid I don't have any for you. You make me lose my senses.” He ran his hand down my body beneath the comforter, but when he hit a sore spot on my hip I winced. He stopped immediately. “What's wrong?”

I lifted the comforter and turned toward the window, exposing the imprint of his hand on my flank in purple and blue. “Just a bruise,” I said.

“Oh. Oh, Sadie. I'm so sorry. I tried so hard to keep your side from getting re-injured and I just ended up hurting you again...”

“Don't be sorry,” I said. “I like it. It's like your signature on your masterpiece. How else would anyone know it was yours?”

His shoulders relaxed at that. One hand came up and cradled my head, drawing me in for a kiss while the other soothed and smoothed over the bruise he had left behind in passion, as if he couldn't quite believe my words and wanted to make it disappear.

I
did
like it, though. Another mark on my body. Another piece of my life story.

My favorite part yet.

Chapter 1

"Damn, damn, damn," Beth muttered, leaning over the coffee shop front counter, pen in hand, attempting to find a way to make college possible. Sadly, the numbers didn't seem to want to cooperate. As it appeared, financially college just wasn't going to be happening for her this coming fall semester. There was no way around it; she was barely making enough to survive as it was. She was making so many sacrifices,
too
many as a matter of fact. Having to cut back on the hours she worked at the coffee shop in order to attend school, while paying the massive tuition wouldn't work. As it was the cost of living was a financial burden that was more than she could handle at the present time.

"Damn," she cursed again, a little more loudly than she intended, as she rolled the offending list of expenses up in her fist, turned, and tossed the paper ball into the nearby garbage can. The paper ball hit the back of the can and fell in soundlessly.

"Impressive shot."

Beth sighed as she turned back towards the counter and gave Gabriel a faint smile. Any other day she would have loved seeing Gabriel - his visits were normally the highlight of her afternoon. However, today was different; not even the sight of her secret crush could brighten her day. Nope, not even the tall, lean, dark-haired hunk in the finely tailored suit with the piercing dark eyes could take her mind off of her troubles.

"Afternoon Gabriel,” she said solemnly.

Leaning an elbow on the beige marble counter separating them, he smiled at her. His sweet, seductive smile helped melt the icy mood she'd been in, up until that point - slightly. "So, come on, tell me what's bothering you? Where’s that beautiful smile you usually present me with?” He had a warm yet concerned look on his face.

“Oh I got it! Your boss is being a jerk?" he teased lightly.

A smile began to lift the corners of Beth's lips for the first time that day as she shook her head. "No."

He raised an inquisitive brow at her. "Oh I definitely got it now. Boyfriend troubles, right?"

Her smile widened. "Hardly." Grabbing a large paper cup from the dispenser she began to pour his coffee.

"The usual?" she asked, ignoring his question. She didn't want to be spilling her financial woes to customers - not even Gabriel. And as for her non-existent love life - she
really
didn't want to be spilling
that
to him.

Gabriel nodded. “Okay I’m done guessing,” he gave a little chuckle. “Then tell me? What's wrong?"

Beth secured the plastic lid onto the cup and sighed, sliding the cup across the counter to him. Crossing her arms over her chest, she leaned her hip against the counter and caught his gaze. "Do you really want to know or are you just being polite?"

Damn, he looks good today
. The top button of his off-white shirt was undone. His black satin tie hung loosely around his neck. He looked as though he could have just walked off the pages of GQ magazine. He was, without a doubt, one of the hottest men she'd ever met. His easygoing demeanour and sinfully sexy smile complemented his good looks perfectly.
Does he even know how hot he is?
she found herself wondering.
Of course he does... How could he not?

Gabriel chuckled. "I
really
want to know. Wouldn't have asked if I didn't."

Beth huffed. "Well, the problem is that I just
can't
catch a break."

"Can't catch a break?" Grabbing a bill from his trousers pocket he passed it to her as he accepted the coffee. "Why do you say that?"

Accepting the payment she rang in his total and proceeded to give him his change. When she offered it to him, as usual, he waved it off so she dropped it into her tip jar. The tip equalled roughly three times the cost of the coffee; he was easily the best tipper to walk through the doors of the coffee shop.

"Well, I'm halfway through college and there is no way I'm going to be able to afford to go back next year. I can barely pay my bills even with all the overtime I put in this place. Like, take this week for instance. I have a choice... do I pay my electricity or my telephone bill?"

Gabriel nodded, appearing grim, but amusement gleamed in his eyes as she continued on. All of a sudden the dam broke and the need to purge her grievances was too overwhelming so she continued her rant, the words falling from her lips like verbal diarrhoea that she was helpless to stop. "So that means I'm stuck here. At the shitty dead end job for another year. Hell, maybe even the rest of my life! I'm twenty-three years old and facing a lifetime of being the donut girl. It wouldn't even be so bad if I had a
boyfriend
, or hell, got laid once in a while. But no. None of that either. The only men I seem to attract are criminals, married men or unemployed losers." Beth huffed and shook her head in defeat. "Just can't catch a break..."

Nodding, a smile spread across Gabriel's lips as he raised a brow at her. "Well as far as the telephone and electricity issues go I might be able to help you there."

Frowning, Beth caught his eyes. Her heart stopped for a moment and her face flushed.
Oh my God.
She groaned inwardly.
Now he thinks I'm some sex-starved charity case
. She prayed for death at that moment. Though looking at him, his dark eyes burrowing into hers, she knew she'd have told him anything he wanted to know. Somehow she doubted many women could resist answering any questions or fulfilling any request he may send their way.

Feeling the heat rush up to her cheeks, Beth shook her head. "No. No, I wasn't implying or hinting. I-"

Gabriel's grin widened. "So you don't want a better job?'' He shrugged, "or at least a better paying job? Not sure if I would say better."

"W-well. No, I do. I mean, I didn't mean to be looking for handouts. I just-"

"Can you cook?" Gabriel asked, laughing outright as he reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and producing a business card which he passed to her.

The heat in her cheeks intensified and she nibbled lightly on her lower lip. "Macaroni and cheese," she joked. Could she cook? He had to be joking. She had to be the worst cook she knew. Nothing ever seemed to turn out right, no matter how much time or effort she took to prepare a meal. She overcooked
everything
. Some people were meant to be domestic; she wasn't one of those people.

Taking the card from him, she glanced down at it. "Gabriel Reynolds Enterprises."

"Yeah, that's me," he confirmed, with a disinterested shrug.

She looked up from the card to meet his eyes. She had no idea what Gabriel Reynolds Enterprises was, but he seemed to be awfully young to be running anything. He couldn't have been a day over thirty.

"You know what," reaching back into his inner pocket, he produced a silver pen, retrieved the card from her fingertips and quickly jotted down a phone number and address. "I have to go. I have a meeting in ten minutes, but give me a call tonight, we'll arrange a meeting and see what we can figure out for you."

Beth accepted the extended card once again, and decided to ask the question that was at the forefront of her mind. "Why would you do this for me?"

Snatching his coffee from the counter he grinned at her, and gave her a wink, sending her pulse racing. "Maybe I like the way you make my coffee."

Rolling her eyes at him, she couldn't help but grin; his smile was infectious. "I press a button on a machine and it pours it into a cup..."

"Call me tonight," he called over his shoulder ignoring her comment, as he rushed across the dining room and out the front door.

Beth watched as he strode across the parking lot, taking long, graceful strides. Working for Gabriel... Cooking? She tapped her lower lip with the edge of the business card as she watch him slide into his black Lamborghini, pull out of the parking slot and speed away. She made a mental note to do an online search for Gabriel Reynolds Enterprises when she arrived home. Maybe he owned a chain of restaurants? She had always assumed he was some sort of hotshot lawyer, or something of the sort. Whatever it was that he did for a living, considering the expensive car, finely tailored suit and large tips he always gave her for a single cup of coffee, Beth guessed that business was very good for Mr Reynolds.

* * * *

"4591 Spruce Meadow Lane," Beth muttered, her blue eyes widening as she pulled her ancient Sunfire up to the tall - at least eight feet in height - wrought iron security fence and lowered her window to press the buzzer for admittance. It was easily one of the most magnificent homes she'd ever seen. It was a three-story Victorian-styled house that looked more like a hotel than someone's private home. It was something she'd expect to see on '"Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous."

Once she got over her awe of the house, she pressed the buzzer and waited for a response.

"Please state your name and business," an abrupt male voice called over the speaker.

"I um... I'm Beth. I'm here to see... Ummmm, Gabe...  I mean... Mr Reynolds."

There was silence from the mysterious voice on the other end.

"About a job," she added groaning inwardly at herself. Why was she so nervous? He was just another customer. One she enjoyed flirting with on a daily basis, just like all the other good-looking men who came into the coffee shop. Just because he owned a profitable mergers and acquisitions company - at least that's what she gathered from the online research - didn't change a thing. He was still the same Gabriel she'd been flirting with for months now. And if she hadn't read the signals wrong, he was more than happy to flirt back.

"Come on through," the voice through the metal box answered as a creaking noise sounded, and the gates began to slowly part.

Shifting the car into drive, Beth slowly made her way to the front of the house and parked behind Gabriel's Lamborghini. Taking a deep breath in, she attempted to calm her increasingly rattled nerves. There was rich and then there was
this
! She shut off the car while still eyeing the beautiful home. Looking down at her black knee-length skirt and purple short-sleeved blouse, she immediately began feeling underdressed. Bending down she peered at herself in the driver's side mirror, flattening her shoulder-length blonde hair and ensuring her make-up hadn't smudged. To her relief it hadn't.

She suddenly laughed at herself for being so self-conscious. This was a job interview, not a date. While surfing the web trying to find out more about Gabriel, she'd seen a number of photographs with him and his dates. They were all leggy, model types who reeked of high society and presumably owned little dogs they carried in their purses named Fefe or something equally as ridiculous. He was out of her league. Perhaps she was fun to flirt with in the afternoons while grabbing a coffee, but that was the extent of it for him she was sure. Sure she’d had a crush on him for some time now. But big deal. It was a crush, it didn't have to complicate matters.

Taking a deep breath she tried to steady her nerves before straightening up and squaring her shoulders. She finally got out of her car and made her way up the front steps. She was just raising her fist to knock on the large oak door when it was opened by a man who appeared to be in his mid-forties, wearing a stern expression.

"Miss Wilmington," he gave her a nod and stepped aside, ushering her in.

"Thank you," pasting a tight smile on her face to cover her nerves she nodded back at him and walked into the house. The inside was just as magnificent as the outside. The front door brought her into a main room, a large white marble fountain at its center, with two cupids back to back arrows poised and ready to shoot as the highlight of the masterpiece which reached up past the first floor and to the second.

On either side of her was a staircase leading to the second floor, which overlooked the first.
Wow.
She knew there would be a look of marvel on her face, but at that point she didn't care. The inside of his home, at least the first room reminded her of an Arabian palace, with all the gold-coloured trim and marble. She halfway expected belly dancers to appear and dance their way down the winding staircase. But, of course, they didn't.

"This is a beautiful house," she managed to gasp. She looked over at the man who had opened the door and caught a glimpse of humour in his eyes, which faded quickly as he nodded, the stern expression reappearing.

"This way. Mr Reynolds is expecting you." With a firm hand at her back, he led her down a hallway, which was softly lit by elegant stained glass sconces on the walls.

You could get lost in this place!
As beautiful as it was, it seemed
too
big, if that were possible. More like a museum than an actual home.

"In here," the man who had yet to give her his name knocked lightly on the door.

"Come in," a voice that was unmistakably Gabriel's called out from behind the door.

Turning the knob, the man pushed it open and stepped aside for Beth to walk past him. Once she was in, he closed the door softly behind her.

Gabriel's office was unlike the rest of the house. It was small, quaint even. The walls were beige with burgundy trim and to her left was a fireplace, giving the room a soft, warm glow.