Blank: Alpha Billionaire Romance (7 page)

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Authors: Cassie Wild

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BOOK: Blank: Alpha Billionaire Romance
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“I guess we do,” he smiled.

The way his mouth curled up at one corner, combined with the flickering candlelight on his face, made my stomach do a slow flip-flop. I was definitely entertaining some unprofessional thoughts here. When he paid for the meal, I couldn’t stop myself from peeking at the slip and saw he left a generous tip. Another point for him.

I shivered as I stepped outside. It had gotten colder while we ate dinner. Kris immediately unwound his scarf.

“Here,” he said.

I turned to him, letting him wrap it around my neck. I smiled, abashed, caught between embarrassment and being overwhelmed by his sweetness. The musky scent of his cologne cloaked me as a I snuggled into the scarf, the soft wool still warm from his body. I glanced up, surprised at how close we’d gotten. His gaze darted down to my mouth and he leaned a little closer. I could see the question in his eyes and I nodded. Then he was kissing me, his lips soft at first, then growing harder as he slid his arms around my waist.

The car arrived, and we parted. I was breathless and a little dizzy.

My first kiss.

Kind of.

“My place?” he whispered raggedly, and I nodded before I even thought twice. I’d have said yes to just about anything after being kissed like that.

When we got to his apartment, I had a moment to notice that it was in an upscale neighborhood, definitely a step above just ‘nice.’ But I didn’t take any time to dwell on it because as soon as we were inside, he was reaching for me and I was letting him.

His arms went around me, lifting me up like I weighed nothing. He brought my face to his, and I automatically wrapped my legs around his waist. When his mouth came down on mine again, I curled my hands into his hair, loving the feeling of the soft strands between my fingers.

He nipped at my lips, growling as he cupped my ass and carried me into the bedroom. Or at least I assumed it was the bedroom. I was too busy trying to memorize the way it felt when the tip of his tongue slid along the seam of my mouth, the feel of his muscles bunching and moving under his shirt.

As he lowered me to the bed, I gave myself over gladly to his skilled hands and tongue. Somehow, he managed to get his clothes off, and my hands greedily explored his solid body. Then it was my turn. As he undressed me, he slowly traced every inch of my body with his fingertips, glancing up at my face every so often to gauge my every reaction. And there were a lot of them. I was pretty sure I wasn’t a virgin – at least I sure as hell hoped I wasn’t, or tonight was going to end badly – but I had no memory of anyone touching me like this before.

I moaned as he began to draw slow, sensual figure eights on my nipples with his tongue. I knew I was being loud, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was that he didn’t stop touching me.

“I need you,” he murmured against my skin. He raised his head, his eyes darkening to a deep, royal blue.

God, he was sexy. I traced a path down his rock hard stomach until I could wrap my fingers around him. Some sort of muscle or sense memory told me that I’d done something like this before, but it was nothing compared to the reality of his soft skin against my palm. I stroked him once, twice.

“Condom?”

He nodded as he pushed himself up on his knees, letting me see him fully for the first time. Damn, he was gorgeous. All hard lines and cut muscles. His cock was perfect too. Long and thick, I knew it was going to be a tight fit, no matter how wet I was.

He tore open the condom packet and rolled the latex over his erection. I expected him to just push right into me, but I should’ve known better. Kris was clearly the sort of man who wasn’t just out for his own pleasure.

While one hand slid over my hip to settle on my stomach, his other moved between my legs. I gasped as his fingers brushed against my sensitive skin, and a smile curved his lips. His thumb ran over my clit and my hips jerked. Or at least they tried to, but he held me down.

“Yessss,” I hissed out as he slid a finger inside me.

His thumb kept up steady circles while his finger pumped in and out. My eyelids fluttered as I felt the warmth of an impending orgasm coil in my belly. I swore as he added a second finger, twisting them inside me until his knuckles hit something that made me keen.

“Come for me, baby.” His voice was rough, commanding.

I opened my mouth to tell him that I couldn’t come just because he said to, but then he leaned down and took my nipple in his mouth. The second his teeth closed around it, his thumb pressed down on my clit and my climax hit me. I started to scream, but his mouth covered mine, swallowing the sound.

His fingers kept moving in and out of me, drawing out the pleasure until I was writhing against his hand. When he pulled them out, I whimpered, feeling the loss deeply. But then I felt his cock pressing against me and I shifted my hips, eager to feel him filling me.

Except he paused and looked down at me, his eyes meeting mine.

“Are you sure?”

“Please,” I whispered. I reached down as far as I could to grasp his hips. “Please.”

He moved with excruciating patience, letting my body adjust to his size. Still, my muscles were trembling by the time he made it all the way inside. Not a virgin, then, but there was no way I could’ve had anyone this big before. I’d still be feeling it.

I could feel the strain as he held himself still until I started to shift beneath him. Taking his cue from me, he began to rock back and forth. We took it slow at first, getting used to each other, the way we moved together. But as the friction and heat between us grew, the faster we moved, our breath coming in harsh pants. I felt myself getting closer and I wrapped my hands around the back of his neck, using the leverage to pull myself up against him, driving him deeper and deeper until he couldn’t go any further.

My back arched, nipples rubbing against his chest, and he rolled his hips, putting the right amount of pressure on my clit to send me over the edge. I clenched around him as I came and he swore. His rhythm stuttered and he slammed down into me, making me cry out as a burst of near-painful pleasure went through me. And then he was coming, pulsing inside me.

He dropped down to his elbows, holding his body off of mine, protecting me from his weight even as he rode out his own orgasm.

Only after I came down from the bliss of my climax did I wonder whether this was even in character for me. Sleeping with a stranger, and my maybe attorney at that? But some instinct told me to trust him, and later, after we’d cleaned up, when he held his arms out to me, I crawled into them and fell asleep with my head on his shoulder.

Chapter 8

Kris

I woke to sunlight streaming through my bedroom window. For a moment, I forgot all about the night before, but the warmth of the girl in my arms rekindled every bit of sensation from our explosive sex last night. She was unexpected, a fireball of sensuality and need that I was only too eager to satisfy.

I looked down at her, so small, and so fragile looking. At only a little over five feet tall and not even twenty years old, she was barely an adult, but flashbacks from last night reminded me otherwise. I smirked, recalling the lusty way she bit her lip just before she’d climaxed, her eyes growing into gorgeous pools of near-purple, as if surprised at how much pleasure she was experiencing. She was a trooper, even vulnerable and afraid, she was a lot stronger than she appeared.

I hadn’t intended for last night to turn out the way it had. I’d told myself never to get carried away again. I had to be smarter, more in control of myself. What’d happened with Samantha was proof, a painful reminder of what would happen if I didn’t use my head more than my heart. Or at least more than my dick.

But she was so beautiful, and her tinkling laughter was like music I wanted to play on repeat. When she’d shivered in the cold, I barely knew what I was doing before I unraveled my scarf and wrapped it around her shoulders. I needed to protect her. She’d looked up at me and I’d been lost. Kissing her felt natural and inevitable, compelled to taste her, to hold her.

Now here we were. She was still sound asleep and snoring softly. I had never felt so protective of anyone, and I’d never been more attracted to a woman. She turned me on tucking a curl behind her ear, laughing. Hell, she turned me on just being in my general vicinity.

Quaid’s jibe at me a week earlier still rang in my ears. He’d made a crack about how popular I’d always been with women. He wasn’t wrong. When I knew a woman wanted me, I took advantage. Not of the women, but of the fact that they liked me. Mutual pleasure and not much else. I was okay with that. If I was being honest, I didn’t have time for romance and roses.

But this girl…she was something else. She wasn’t like any of the others. Even with only a week’s worth of memories to her name, she had more depth and intelligence than all of the other women I’d dated put together. And oh so mouthwateringly sexy, how could I resist her?

Because you have to
, a voice in my head chided.
This is wrong. You’ve gone too far.

The thought of kicking her out of bed and never seeing her again sent pangs through my chest. A sharp, physical ache that could only be quenched with a detailed exploration of her body. I’d have to find some other way around our situation, because forgetting her wasn’t a possibility.

She stirred in my arms, like my thoughts were distressing to her. I kissed the top of her head, then her forehead, then her cheek. She smiled and flipped towards me.

“Mmmm, good morning,” she mumbled sleepily. Her short curls were sticking up in all directions and she looked adorable.

“Good morning,” I replied. “How was your night?”

“Well, it was better than sleeping on Ava’s sofa,” she joked. Then she looked at me. I was only covered up to the waist with a sheet. “Yes,” she said as her eyes traveled along my chest and up to my face. “Much better than the sofa.”

I laughed at her candor. “You’re not so bad yourself,” I told her.

I had an appointment that morning, and asked her if she wanted to stop off for breakfast before I dropped her off at the apartment. She declined, telling me that she thought her friend might feel better if she came home sooner rather than later.

“I was missing for a little while before she found me. I don’t want to give her a heart attack.”

Ten minutes later, I dropped Preslee off and went on my way.

I felt guilty for lying to her, more evidence of how far she’d gotten under my skin. I didn’t actually have an appointment exactly. Getting to know Preslee and hearing about her ordeal persuaded me to find answers. I planned on shaking answers out of the detectives in charge of her case. So far, they’d been useless. That was about to change. Preslee deserved justice. She deserved much more than that, but this was the one I could focus on right now.

Stepping into the squat, square building, I was greeted by off-white walls that blended into equally hideous tile floors. I approached the officer at the desk. A bored frown flashed across her face at my approach.

“Good morning.” I gave her my most charming and polite smile. “Could you direct me to the detectives in charge of the Preslee Keats case?”

“Preslee Keats?” she asked, not unkindly.

“Yes. The accident itself took place several months ago, in early November. I’m a friend of hers and was hoping to learn more about what the police discovered. Are there any particular detectives assigned to the case?”

She looked at her computer screen, her expression clearly saying that she had better things to do than answer my questions. “It looks like Krazelburg and Gracen were assigned. I’ll let them know you’re here to speak with them. Please have a seat.” She gestured to the ugly plastic chairs lining the far wall.

Lovely. After about twenty minutes give or take, a harried man in his early thirties came bursting through the door. He scanned the dejected faces, finally landing on mine. “You here to talk about the Keats case?” he asked.

“I am.” I stood and offered my hand. “I’m a friend of Preslee’s and am here on her behalf.” There was no sense in telling him who I really was. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I could actually explain it right now anyway.

“I’m Detective Krazelburg. My partner’s upstairs. Follow me.” He led me to a room unlike what I’d seen on crime TV shows. It was cramped and poorly lit, full of cubicles. Men and women just as frazzled as the man walking in front of me hurried back and forth, calling out to one another.

We reached a small office which I assumed he shared with the other detective. “This is my partner, Detective Gracen.” Gracen turned away from a stack of files on his desk to give me a nod. The two men couldn’t have been more different.

Krazelburg wasn’t much older than me, and was tall and lean. His rust-brown hair was trendy spiky. Gracen was a man in his late forties at best. His raven hair was streaked with silver, and he was much stockier than his partner.

Detective Gracen motioned toward an empty chair.

“I appreciate you gentlemen taking the time to speak to me,” I started. “I’m sure you have a million other cases to work on.”

Krazelburg was leaning against his desk with his arms crossed. “You’re right,” he said. “We’re way too busy to spend time talking with every amateur sleuth who decides he knows better than we do about how to investigate a case.”

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