PIERCE : A Billionaire Romance Book Series (The Complete Van Doren Series) (7 page)

              “Not too bad, not too bad at all…” she says to herself, smiling a bit more as she looks her bra-and-panty-clad body over.  Her belly is lean and smooth, her navel a delicate little divot above the low-slung waistband of her panties.  Her arms are long and slender, as are her legs, and when she twists to the side; she notices the swell of her bottom.  Reaching back, Christina squeezes one buttock, and she can’t help but grin when she feels how firm and strong it is.  Pierce likes it, too.

              Pierce. He keeps rearing his ugly (gorgeous) head.  Christina sighs a little and blows a few errant strands of hair out of her eyes, then shrugs her shoulders and pads over to the dresser, where she retrieves some comfortable clothes to spend her afternoon in.  She’s got some emails to send.  She needs to call Pete and tell him thank you.  Maybe she’ll take a nap.  Something tells her she needs to be refreshed for tonight.

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              Across town at the Roosevelt, Pierce is waging his own internal debate.  Should he go back and knock on Christina’s door? Is she going to call him?  She seemed sincere when she promised, but he knows she’s impetuous.  It’s something he simultaneously loves and hates about her – that unpredictability.  In the office of his suite, he sits idly at the desk, his laptop ignored in front of him.  He can’t focus on anything.  He only wants to talk to her, to hear her. To touch her.  She’s all he’s thought about since she ran off.  He’s actually a bit surprised at how much she’s dominated his thoughts, and even though he’s tried to distract himself with other women, he always finds them dull and lifeless.  Even the most beautiful of them can’t hold a candle to the brilliance Christina offers. 

              Picking up his phone, he selects her contact and presses ‘call’.  Before the connection is made, he presses ‘end’, silently cursing himself.  He feels like a teenager… and a far less confident teenager than he was at that age.  He throws the phone onto the desk with a clatter, and then pushes back abruptly, surging to his feet and storming out of the office and into the living room.

              “Fuck!”  he growls, picking up the hotel phone and waiting for reception to answer.

              “Yes, Mr. Van Doren,” a friendly female voice answers almost immediately.

              “Have my car brought around, please.”  Pierce doesn’t wait for the woman to respond, but drops the phone into its cradle and heads out of the suite.  The elevator is empty as he descends to the lobby. He’s at once happy and irritated to see his rented Porsche sitting at the curb outside upon his arrival.  He’d half hoped to have a reason to chew out the valet.  He needs to yell at someone, dammit!

              He takes the key from the young man in a huff and climbs behind the wheel, neglecting to offer a tip.  He starts the vehicle, enjoying the low rumble of the engine.  Pierce squeals out on to the street, heading towards the highway.  He needs to drive, needs to clear his head.  He needs Christina to call.  He needs Christina.

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              “This isn’t going to work, either!”  Christina throws another rejected outfit onto her bed, huffing and sighing dramatically as her sister shakes her head.

              “Who is this guy, anyway?” Ella asks, picking up the most recently discarded dress and holding it in front of herself on its hanger.  She also appears to disapprove, as she tosses it on top of the other clothing and pushes past her sister to rifle through her closet.  Christina steps back and watches her younger sister, a frustrated expression dominating her pretty face.

              “Just a guy I met in the east. He’s here in New York on…”  Reaching out, she accepts a skirt Ella has offered, glances at it, then throws it on the pile.  “…business.”

              “Then what does it matter what you wear?”  Ella pulls out a simple little black dress, thrusts it towards Christina, then turns and heads for the door, leaving her sister to search her wardrobe alone. Pausing in the hall, she leans back and peeks through the doorway. “You’re just gonna take it off, anyway.” 

              Christina throws the dress at her sister, but it falls far short.  “Fuck you…” Christina says, chuckling.  “It’s not like that.”  Ella arches a brow, and then disappears down the hallway, calling over her shoulder.

              “Sure it’s not!” 

              It really is, though.  And Christina knows it is.  The more she thinks about it, the more she resigns herself to the fact that she probably isn’t going to get more than a couple of words out of Pierce before they’re naked and climbing all over one another.  She could almost taste his kisses in the car, before.  All she’s been able to think about is his body, his mouth, and the way he smells.  Even before she knew he was here he was in her dreams for fuck’s sake! 

              “Forget this,” Christina says to herself, scooping all the clothes up in a big armload and turning to dump them unceremoniously on the floor of her closet.  She’ll hang them up later.  Flopping onto her bed once again, she closes her eyes and sighs. 

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              His hands are on her breasts, squeezing.  His mouth is on hers, his breath hot across her lips, his tongue wet and hungry as it slides warm and eager against her own.  She moans into his mouth, arching her back and pressing her hands into the powerful musculature that defines his back.  Breaths are quick and stolen between kisses.  She can feel her nipples hard against his palms, and when he dips his head to suck one of them into his mouth, she opens her eyes… only to see the ceiling of her bedroom and the distinct cast of late night streetlights painting shadows across the plaster.

              Fuck! Christina rolls onto her side and picks up her phone, squinting as she presses the power button and realizes it’s after three in the morning.  What? Three in the morning?  Rolling onto her back again, she takes a moment to consider her actions – then scrambles off her bed to find her bag.  The card Pierce gave her earlier is tucked inside. She snatches it out, already dialing the number printed there before she realizes fully what she’s doing.

              One ring.  Two.  Three.  Four.  She’s about to hang up when she hears his voice, warm and inviting. “Christina?”  God, he sounds delicious.  Christina is silent, listening to him breathe.  “Christina?”

              “Come get me.”  Christina presses her free hand between her legs, feeling the heat from her dream still radiant inside her yoga pants and panties.  Her fingers tease the swollen knot of her clit, and she squirms, squeezing her eyes shut.  “Come get me, Pierce.”

              He pauses for a split second, then responds, “I’m outside.”

              Christina sits up and pads to the window, where she pushes the blinds apart and gazes out towards the street.  Opposite her house and a few yards down is a silver Porsche, looking out of place on this middle-class suburban street.  She can see the very faint glow of electronics inside it.  “Is that you?” she asks, already moving away from the window and fumbling in the dark for her shoes.  She has one on before he answers.

              “Yes.  I’ve been waiting for you to call.  Don’t be angry, I just couldn’t sit in that hotel…”

              Christina cuts him off. “Shut up.  I’ll be down in a minute.”  Slipping on her other shoe, she pulls the phone away and looks at the screen for a second before pressing ‘end’.  What the fuck is she doing?  She’s still asking herself that question when she slips down the hall, out the front door, and down the sidewalk to cross over to the silver car. 

              Pierce opens his door and steps out when she is a few feet away.  He moves around the low car almost urgently, and has her door open before she’s fully crossed the street.  Christina stops before sinking down into the seat, reaching out with her right hand to press her palm against his scruffy cheek.  He smiles almost timidly at her, then gently presses on her shoulder, encouraging her to get inside.

              Christina turns, pushing back against Pierce’s hand.  Both of her arms wrap around his neck, and she presses herself so tightly against him that he is slightly knocked off balance.  His arms slide around her, and he tugs her even closer, pressing his big, hard body against her smaller, softer one with urgent insistence.  She seeks his mouth with her own, and their kiss is clumsy, their teeth colliding, their lips smashing together as her pent-up hunger takes control.  Pierce is equally ravenous. He pulls her off her feet entirely and slips his hands under her ass, his fingers squeezing there, already seeking the building warmth between her thighs.

              Realizing where she is, Christina pulls free of the kiss and disentangles herself from Pierce.  “Not here…” she mumbles, ducking into the car and pulling the door shut behind her.  Pierce looks momentarily stunned, and takes a few seconds to adjust the raging erection he’s already enduring… but then he moves around to his side of the car and slips in behind the wheel.  He looks sidelong at her, smiles that utterly devastating grin, then reaches out and squeezes her thigh before starting the engine and putting the car in first gear.

              “I’m glad you called me,” Pierce says, his voice low and thick with lust.  “I was considering climbing the fire escape and opening the right window.”

              Christina laughs, shaking her head. “Wonder what Ella would have thought if you’d gone in her window instead…”  She considers that for a moment and feels a surge of selfish pride that she’s the one in the car with this stunner of a man, and not her sister. 

              The Porsche moves smoothly out towards the highway, and once they are at cruising speed, Pierce’s hand finds Christina’s thigh once again.  She is not dressed for the occasion – her unplanned nap has resulted in her wearing dark blue yoga pants and a too-small white tee shirt for her hot date – but Pierce seems unfazed by her casual attire.  In fact, he seems to like it.  His fingers stroke her leg through the thin, snug fabric, and he keeps looking over at her, obviously appreciative of her braless breasts behind the well-worn cotton of her old tee shirt.

              Christina watches his hand on her thigh, her body wanting desperately to lean across the center console of the little car.  She wants to whisper in his ear, to suck on his earlobe – to feel his pulse against her lips.  She wants to make him fight to maintain control of the car. 

              As she ponders her next move, Pierce takes the initiative.  His hand teases up her thigh and between her legs, fingers immediately dipping down into the warmth, there.  He expertly strokes her pussy through the thin cloth, quickly soaking her pants and making her fidget. “Hey…” she protests halfheartedly, reaching out with her right hand to grip the door’s handle.  Her left hand brushes the back of Pierce’s forearm, but she makes no move to stop his attentions.  They feel so damn good.

              Keeping his eyes expertly on the road, Pierce continues to fondle her.  His fingertips stroke in long vertical swipes along her barely-covered slit, and he makes sure to roll his first two fingers over her clit each time.  Little shivers run up her back and overwhelm her stomach every time he does this, and soon she finds her hand tightening on his wrist and pulling at his arm. Instead of pulling him away, she pulls him up, guiding his hand into the waistband of her pants.  The stretchy material gives way easily enough, and Pierce slips his hand back into position, this time pushing two fingers into her dripping, wet heat and curling them.  He gives a little tug, making her jump, and Christina bites her lip and closes her eyes as he casually and effortlessly coaxes an orgasm out of her. 

              She squirms and writhes on the car seat, making quite a mess in her panties, smearing Pierce’s fingers and palm with sweet, viscous honey.  Her breathing is rapid and shallow, and she feels her toes curling in her sneakers, her nipples tightening against the soft cotton that barely manages to hold her heaving tits in place.  “Fuck!” she gasps, grinding herself down against Pierce’s eager hand.  Another wave of release claims her, then another… and as they pull in front of the hotel, she’s flushed bright red and lightly perspiring.

              Pierce pulls his hand out of her pants just as the valet steps up to open her door.  She knows he must be able to smell it –she certainly can – and the bright pink flush in her cheeks is undeniable.  Christina is extremely aware of her highly-visible nipples, and she presses her arm against her breasts as she climbs out of the car.  The valet either does not notice or is extremely good at being discreet, because he only nods to her and steps around to the other side of the car to take Pierce’s keys.

              Pierce presses several bills into the young man’s hand, leaning in to say something softly that Christina doesn’t catch.  The valet smiles and nods. “You have a good night, Mr. Van Doren,” he offers, once again nodding to Christina as she steps around to join Pierce.  “You too, ma’am.” 

              Pierce slips an arm around Christina’s waist and guides her towards the doors of the hotel, smiling at the doorman as he pulls the heavy glass-and-brass door wide for them.  Christina smiles quickly, ready to get past the hotel staff and into the privacy of Pierce’s suite. 

              Soon enough, they are in the elevator.  Pierce presses the button for his floor, then sweeps Christina into another kiss.  She feels woozy.  Her knees are weak, her body anxious… her mind whirling with possibilities.  She kisses Pierce back with the hunger and eager desperation of a teenager, her hands clasping on his shoulders, one leg lifting to wrap awkwardly around his calf.  She’s just starting to fully immerse herself in the affection when the soft chime of the elevator sounds, and the car bounces to a stop.