On top: Billionaire bachelor romance (The Playgirls Book 1) (5 page)

Chapter 9

She’d felt the shift as though someone had turned on a light switch – one minute, he was kissing her demandingly, but also softly, exploring her mouth, the next he was diving into her, molding them into one. She was on fire, molten under his masterful mouth; her entire body curved upwards, trying to bend against his.

Taking that like the invitation it was, his hand cupped her between her legs, through her flannel pants; these pink unicorns had never seen as much action in their entire existence.

She moaned in his mouth and his response was to slide his hand under the fabric, finding her wet folds.

Fuck, these fingers knew what to do.

But just as suddenly as it had all started, Colt stopped it, moving away from her, to the other side of the sofa.

Really?

Stunned, mouth hanging open, she sat up, shooting him a look of puzzlement.

However, that look changed in a heartbeat.

He’d unzipped his pants and was currently pumping his hard, thick cock.

Fuck, that was major hot.

“I seem to recall something about watching you masturbate on that list of yours.”

That woke her from her funk; somewhere between the chocolate and the scarf, she’d forgotten what it had been about – a temporary arrangement. It had seemed real, for a moment.

Then, she recalled that the arrangement was a great idea – and her idea, too. Colt wasn’t the kind to settle down with, so the mutually agreed expiry date made sense.

She smiled, worked the unicorns down her legs, before spreading them and working her thumb on her clit.

Colt’s eyes never left her, while he wanked along with her. She’d put a couple of fingers inside, and her other hand was rubbing her breast, but the friction wasn’t enough for her; she needed BOB to make it better. However, she had to admit she liked giving a show; this was much better than the pleasure her fingers normally managed to give her.

Colt shifted on the sofa, got on his knees and nestled between her legs; her eyes went wild –that was it, he was going to fuck her, now…

But he didn’t.

He put his dick between her legs, against her clit, and closed her thighs, clasping himself inside. Fuck.

She placed both hands on her breast, leaving her pussy’s care to him – god knew he knew what to do with it. He thrust up, rubbing her wet lips and her clit better than any fingers ever had. Shit. Masturbation by live dick. That was the bomb.

“There’s some condoms in your basket, sweetheart,” he told her, his voice rough, filled with lust.

She twisted as much as possible to reach inside the box of presents, desperately ruffling until her hands clasped around a XL Magnum pack of cocktail flavored condom. At last. Her hands were trembling when she fumbled to open it, but there it was.

She sat up and put the head of the gross latex layer on him, rolled it down, and directed him inside her.

•

For one moment, he thought there couldn’t possibly be anything hotter than having a woman rolling a condom on him; then, she pulled his dick against her eager, glistening pussy, sat back, and crocked her finger at him, beckoning him.

She was gonna kill him.

One hard thrust, and he was in.

Shiiiiiit. Tight. Molten. So fucking
good.
He had to stay in place, until he was certain he wouldn’t just come here and there.

Then, he pulled his hips out and back in. fuck. Another halt necessary. He felt his balls tighten, all but ready to blow. 

He looked up from her ridiculously gorgeous pussy to her face, and he was done for.

Her head was thrown back, her eyes were close, her mouth slightly open and pleasure was written all over her features. He wanted it. Now. Tomorrow. The day after.

He didn’t – couldn’t – stop looking at her, taking in every change of expression as he rocked back and forth, slow and deep first. A whimper escaped her, and he lost it.

He shifted above her, pushing her things on his shoulder, got on a crouch and pounded her into ecstasy. He knew he couldn’t last long; but he’d last long enough for her to come, too – his body wouldn’t allow otherwise.

Her cheeks flushed, and she fidgeted, yet again trying to stop the motion when it got too intense. No wonder she’d never come before: she didn’t let it happen, grabbing control just as she was about to fly.

Not with him.

Colt grabbed both of her hands, holding them by the wrist above her head in one hand, while his other one rubbed her clit. He felt his own body craving the release, his dick was engorged and hitting her in a way that made her yell his name, begging. Oh, fuck. His heartbeat had become uncontrollable, his breathing labored, he couldn’t see clearly; but he couldn’t stopped, even if he got a heart attack in the process.

Colt dived for her nipple, sucking one between his lips and that was it. She came around him, immediately triggering his release.

He didn’t stop sucking her tits, rubbing her clit, or pushing his dick inside her, for that matter; he wasn’t able to. He just wanted to worship her, and that felt like a good way to do so.

Eventually, he could breathe normally; he just laughed, and she giggled in response.

“Well, if I didn’t know better, I’d think someone is getting hard again,” Alice pointed out when his shallow thrusts got more purposeful.

And damn if she wasn’t right; shit, he hadn’t recovered so quickly since high school.

“We need to change that condom.”

Right again; but that meant actually withdrawing from her heat and everything in him rebelled against it.

It was
major
stupidity. The condom basically was a bomb of sperm waiting to explode right now.

But then she tightened around him and her hips went up, lifting to meet him.

She pushed against him so hard he fell back and then, landed sitting on his knees, smiling away at her ninja trick.

Then, the vixen got up from him, removed the used condom and replaced it, before sitting back on his cock and riding him.

Her hips were out of this fucking worlds – she did a funny “8” thing, swaying them from side to side, diagonally, before going up and down, and back, changing, switching the rhythm to drive him absolutely mad.

He understood about the two stalkers, now. There was no way any sane guy would ever let her go. What completely baffled him was the cheating – why the
hell
would anyone ever need anything else?

That was then, while Alice was riding him, flushed, her mouth licking his neck, that he came up with the plan.

The plan was simple.

She was after a little break from relationship – she wanted something simple, fun, that wouldn’t hurt her.

He’d give her that. He’d also give her the rest – the texts and phone calls his previous girlfriends had always cried about. The time he could spare. So, when he’d ask for more at the end of all this, she wouldn’t have any reason to say no.

•

Shower sex was uncomfortable as fuck. Yeah, it had been fun, but she’d screamed when he lifted her legs, believing that she was going to slip and fall. Then, there had been the angle where water just wouldn’t stop getting in her nostrils.

That was brilliant. Exactly the kinda stuff she needed to write about.

After finally managing to get relatively clean and dry, Colt and Alice made it to her bedroom; Colt all but collapsed on her bed and she would have loved to join him for a well deserved nap, but there was no point.

She knew without the shadow of a teeny, tiny little doubt that she wouldn’t manage to drift of, not even for one second. Such was the curse of writers, and most creative professionals, really. It was in her mind: she needed it on paper.

By seven, when Colt woke up, she had six thousand words and a pizza in the oven. Six thousand was
way
too long, probably twice the length of the entire article, but she’d written all of the ideas about the office cunnilingual experience, the first encounter and the shower sex – when it was time to draft the article, she could pick the relevant parts.

She was alerted of his presence by a series of soft, teasing kisses along the back of her neck. God. Talk about a zero to one-thirty in point one of a second. Ferraris had nothing on here: here, just like that, she was ready to go.

Chapter 10

She was genuinely desperate by Wednesday. There was no way in hell he was going to survive Christmas at home, but her mom had been pretty damn crafty this year.

Alice had served her the usual “I might need to work” thing for the third year in a row, so Mara Vaughan had taken things in her own hands.

“I’ve called On Top the other day, dear, and I spoke to
the sweetest
man… What was his name?”

“Tony?” Alice hazarded; there weren’t that many guys in the office – especially if she’d rang through to her floor: Tony was the only reporter man enough to dare work in such an estrogen powered environment within twenty miles of the city.

“That’s it. Tony. Is he single?”

Oh for Christ’s sake, she was twenty-five! She should at least get half a decade before her mom attempted to pair her up with any eligible guy she spoke to for five minutes.

“No mom. He’s still with his high school sweetheart.”

She didn’t add anything about the fact that the relationship was a couple of hysterical phone calls away from going down the drain; no need to encourage the shameless matchmaker.

“Mh. Anyhow, we got talking; you know Tony is from Chicago? He was asking my opinion on what present he should buy his mother for Christmas. We’re the same age, you know.”

Tony was dead. She was going to gut him slowly, feed him his intestine and then, burry him alive.

“He’s so lucky he gets to go home for Christmas every year. Have you got any news about your request for the holidays, yet?”

Actually, as she’d volunteered – or begged – to work on the previous two Christmases, Linda had all but booted her out, ordering her to forget about work and have a good time.

Alice’s idea of a good time had been getting very berry drunk with her roommates, prankcall people and fuck her way through a box of condom whenever Colt was available.

Now though, she didn’t have a choice; because people were right about her, at least, as far as her mother was concerned. She was a good girl. There was no way in hell she could just open her mouth and openly lie. Might and could were ok, while she wasn’t certain of things herself, but she
knew
she was off in two days.

Damn it. No one was going to find the body after she was done with Tony.

“I’m off Mama,” she admitted guiltily.

Needless to say, the response on the other end was scary. She said something about jumpers, neighbors, pies and… wait a minute.

“Mama, I’ll only make it on Christmas eve,” she cut in when she started going on about a
week
with her three children.

She was not submitting herself to more than forty-eight hours of Mara, Paul, Katie and Shane Vaughan.

People assumed Alice had left San Francisco because of the problems her series of unfortunate ex-boyfriends had caused her there; she hadn’t.

She’d left because of her family’s response to it.

Her dad had turned overprotective – like, where-have-you-been, it’s-nine-pm kinda overprotective; and she had been
twenty-two.

Her mother, on the contrary, had started throwing her at every “good” boy she met – generally the sons of her acquaintances. Never mind that every
good
boy she’d come up with had been fugly, boring or plain sleazy once the parents were out of sight.

Then, there had been Shane’s reaction. The scary one.

Shane wasn’t one to actually interact with people; he’d barely seen her twice a year, then, even though he’d leaved half an hour away.

However,
things
had happened which had Shane’s signature all over it. She’d heard about them on social media mainly: the bank account of one of her stalker had suddenly been completely wiped clean. The guy who’d bad mouthed her around town had been fired by his employer after a buried old record of an arrest had made it to his boss’s office.

Yeah, Shane was quiet, charming, and scary as hell.

The worst had been Katie, though. Katie
liked
Alice’s predicament. She found it amusing, and well deserved.

Katie had been a good friend, once, a lifetime ago. Then, sixth grade, she’d grown boobs and had loved the attention; her skinny, boyish little sister became an annoyance.

But the problem started when her body didn’t stop growing those boobs, and the ass, as well as the rest; she was a curvy girl by sweet sixteen and started to genuinely
hate
Alice, who wasn’t.

So, yeah, she’d decided she didn’t need the agro – not continuously, in any case. Shane got away with brooding in his penthouse, but when she’d lived in the city, her parents had expected her around most weekends – she’d had to justify her absence.

So when Linda had come up with the proposal, she’d bitten her hand off.

“Just Christmas eve?” Mara repeated, a certain note in her voice.

Oh, mama bear was pissed.

“Yes, mother. I’m working until the nineteenth; then, I have presents to buy and people to see. And, oh, I don’t know, maybe a
birthday
somewhere in there?”

“Exactly! You should be here for your birthday.”

She did manage to prevent herself from laughing. She should be
anywhere else
for her birthday.

“I have plans.”

She wasn’t one to make a fuss about it – years of “Christmas and birthday” presents, cards and parties did that to a girl – but enjoying a good glass of champagne and a bubble bath in her own place was a little piece of heaven she was not missing out on.

“Alice… Is there
someone
you want to spend your birthday with? Are you seeing a man?... Or a girl, I’m not one to judge.”

She hesitated one instant, knowing that this conversation would go a great deal better if she only said “yes,” however, it wouldn’t be fair to throw Colt under a bus like that.

Because Mara
would
hunt him down and force feed him Christmas dinner. There just wasn’t any other ways that story was going to end.

An obnoxious doorbell saved her from needing to paddle her way through that particular storm.

“There’s someone at the door, Mama, speak to you soon!”

She almost ran to answer, as she knew who that someone was, and he had chocolate.

“Alice Arabella Vaughan! Don’t you think this conversation is…”

“Love youuu!” she sang away, cutting her off while opening the door.

Then, she lagged like a HP on Windows 10; the brain shut down. 

Colt was wearing jeans and a t-shirt under a leather jacket. Like, seriously. Not even a shirt, or a blazer.  

“Better have been talking to someone with a vagina,” he growled, before diving towards her lips.

Fuck.

The kiss was passionate, consummating and unfortunately, quick.

Way sooner than what was acceptable by her standards, he came up for air, pushing her away before saying: “We have a problem.”

•

Colt was distracted. For the first time since he’d hanged up, he wasn’t worried about the upcoming event; his mind wasn’t even focusing on Alice’s lame excuse of a PJ – the teeniest, tiniest shorts and a white t-shirt that might as well have been transparent, for what it hid of her nipples.

No; he was replaying her words.

Love you.

It hadn’t been sultry, sexy, or even remotely intimate – it sounded like a joke; but it bothered him all the same.

He couldn’t recall ever saying those words to anyone, even his parents, his brothers; let alone the women who’d shared his bed. They’d said it in the past and it had crept him out, because he hadn’t been even close to loving any of his eighteen girlfriends.

That’s usually when he started to keep his distance. Afterwards, he managed to get dumped pretty easily. 

Would he have freaked out if Alice had been talking to him, rather than whomever she’d been on the phone with?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

“So?”

“Hm?”

“Does the mysterious called possess a vagina?”

“Definitely; I would know, I came out of it.”

Oh, her mom. He released a breath he didn’t know he was holding while following her to the kitchen.

Alice cooked – as in, from scratch. She didn’t do it everyday, but over the course of two weeks, they’d spent five nights at her place and there had been a homemade meal three times. It was comfort food – simple and delicious. The kind of stuff he hadn’t actually eaten since he’d left home for college over a dozen years ago; yeah, Tamsin and his mother fed him, but they were all for fancy stuff.

Right now, she was cutting some vegetables; quickly, too. Her ease with a knife was one of the million things about her that made him hard.

“Anyhow, what’s the problem?” she asked, dropping onions in a frying pan.

“
My
mother. I may have failed to inform you that she wanted you around for brunch.”

Alice laughed out loud – it wasn’t one of those fake high pitched screeches some girls did, but a full-on belly laugh; sometime, when he really made her crack up, she even snorted and fuck, that was cute.

These moments didn’t only appeal to his crotch – they’d also started making his heart stop, slow and quicken.

Fuck, he really was screwed.

“Well, she’s upped the ante. She was talking about inviting you for a shopping trip – to have some
girl talk.
”

He wasn’t worried because The Dragon might give her the third degree like she had done with his previous girlfriends; oh, no.

The issue was that she was going to ask whether Alice preferred a small or a large wedding; then, she’d probably draft a list of potential color themes for the baby’s rooms.

Small wedding. Yellow rooms. He could be swayed towards sage green or magenta.

“I had to do something; I just blurted out she’d see you at the Colburn Christmas party. It’s not actually on Christmas Day, my parents are having a romantic getaway then; but we’re throwing a socialite affair Sunday. I hate to ask, but can you make it?”

Her smirk did betray her instant acceptance, but Alice pretended to think it out.

“Hmm, I don’t know. That’s a big favor. If I do this, you’ll owe me.”

“Anything,” he instantly replied.

He meant it.

“You’ve got plan for Christmas Day?”

He shook his head.

“Tamsin’s taking Xander to London, so no – I don’t think Kellan or Kane want to bother.”

Her smile grew bigger yet.

“Great! Call them both; we’re going to San-Francisco.”

“We are?”

“Oh yes. We definitely are.”