What Matters Most: The Billionaire Bargains, Book 2 (5 page)

Even the scar on his right thigh and the stubble on his jaw were perfect.

Reese leaned over and kissed his shoulder. He didn’t even stir. She did it again, running her hand through his hair. Nothing.

She grinned. Okay, so she’d have to be more…arousing.

She stretched out beside him, propped her head on one hand and ran her other hand down his back to his perfect ass, rubbing, then squeezing. She continued on to the back of his thigh, then up the back of the other. She pressed her body against him, watching his face. He continued to sleep, but his lips fell open as she touched him.

His arms were up over his head, so her breasts pressed against his side, and she felt her nipples hardening from even that much contact. She leaned over and kissed his forehead, then his cheek, then his lips.

Still nothing.

Okay, big guns.

She had to press against him even harder to reach, but she ran a hand up the inside of the thigh closest to her and brushed her fingers against the heavy sac between his legs.

That got a bit of a response. He made a soft noise and rolled to his back.

Now she could get something going for sure.

Her wet hair swung forward as she leaned to kiss his chest. The tendrils left a wet trail as she moved her lips over his collarbone and then down to his nipple. She swirled her tongue there and felt a rumble in his chest.

She looked up. His eyes were still shut.

She ran her hand over his flat stomach and lower, tracing the ridges of his abs and brushing over the silky hair that led down the center to his cock.

That was now stirring to life.

She moved her mouth down his abdomen as well as she cupped his cock, stroking along the hardening length and feeling it thicken in her hand. She wrapped her hand around it and stroked again, feeling it pulse and grow.

She leaned closer, breathing on the head. She’d done this before. But never in full sunlight and never to a man so well-endowed. There was no way she could take him all in. But she could still take a taste.

She ran her tongue over the head, feeling the moisture and heat increase between her legs as she did it. She licked along the length—the length that was full at that point—and she cupped the sac underneath.

And then she found herself flipped onto her back.

A big hand ran over her stomach to her clit where he circled and then took the nub between thumb and forefinger, plucking and rolling.

She gasped and then groaned as his mouth went to her nipple and sucked hard.

“What a way to wake up,” he said gruffly, moving his hips between her legs. “Open up, honey.”

She spread her legs, whimpering as he slid two fingers into her and curled them just right to hit a very sweet spot. She was vaguely aware that he was rolling on a condom at the same time and briefly marveled at his ability to multi-task.

But then he was thrusting deep and she lost her ability to do anything but feel.

He moved in and out of her rhythmically for several strokes. “Damn, you’re more than ready for me, aren’t you?”

“Always.” She gasped. She knew it was true. She would always be ready for him like this.

He braced his hands on the mattress and pushed himself up to a kneeling position between her legs. He hooked a hand under each of her knees and spread her wide.

Reese arched her back and let her eyes slide shut. He was too far away to reach with her hands so she gripped the sheets on either side in her fists.

With her eyes shut, she could focus on how he felt sliding in and out of her, stretching her wide, the friction hot and addicting. The sounds of him moving against her and his heavy breaths worked to ratchet her arousal up even further, and she felt an orgasm already stirring.

“I want to feel you come around me, baby,” he urged, thrusting deeper. “Put your fingers on your clit.”

She felt her inner muscles clench and reveled in his quick intake of air as he felt them too.

She moved one hand to her clit and circled it with her middle finger, intensely aroused at the idea that he was watching.

“There you go. I can feel what that does to your pussy,” he praised. “Keep going. Let me feel you let go.”

Reese sped up her tempo. In the dim light, she could see that he was watching her finger, and when his tongue licked along his lower lip she felt the familiar clench of her climax begin.

“Talk to me, Tony,” she said. The talk from last night had been explicit but had somehow felt intimate. The tone in his voice had suggested that he was as in awe of what had happened between them as she had been. She’d known him for eight months and had felt something drawing them together from the beginning, but she had never expected things between them to happen so fast or be so explosive once they gave in.

She noticed that he’d slowed his rhythm and she arched against him, needing more of the friction and harder thrusts.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, but his voice sounded tight.

Tight with passion, with holding back until she orgasmed. He’d been intent on making sure she got hers—sometimes twice—before he came.

“Tony, please, more.”

“Reese?” His voice was strangled and her name was more of a gasp.

“Yes, I’m with you.” She was panting. “Just a little—”

“Holy
shit
.” Tony suddenly pulled back and scrambled off the side of the bed.

Reese sat up, shocked and confused, her body humming, her mind whirling.

“
Reese
?” he demanded, sounding completely aghast.

She frowned. “What’s going on?”

He stomped to the window and jerked the curtain back. Sunlight spilled into the room and Reese lifted a hand to block her eyes.

He was staring at her, looking horrified. His eyes were wide, his hair wild, his erection still very impressive.

But his nakedness didn’t seem to matter. He turned a full circle then, taking in the room around them, their clothes strewn about on the floor, the unmade bed, before settling on her again. His gaze tracked over her, clearly taking note of
her
nudity, then returned to her face.

“What the
fuck
are you doing?” he asked.

Reese stared back at him, his words rattling around in her brain without making any sense.

She frowned at him. “That isn’t funny.” But there was something in his eyes—or maybe the lack of something—that made a big cold ball form in her stomach.

He was shocked she was here. He didn’t remember bringing her here. He’d been making love to her and hadn’t realized who she was.

And now that he did, he was horrified.

She pulled the sheet up to cover herself.

Oh, yeah, on top of all the bests, this was going to go down as the best morning after.

Tony was reeling. He wasn’t sure he’d ever fully understood that term until now, in fact. He felt very much like he was out on the ocean in a tiny boat being tossed about by the waves with no anchor and no harbor in sight.

Reese Sutherland was naked in his bed.

She’d been naked and
under
him just a minute ago. He’d been having
sex
—hot, amazing sex—with
Reese Sutherland
.

Holy shit.

The truth was taking some time to sink in.

Maybe because it wasn’t actually his bed.

But he recognized it. This was the Presidential Suite at the Bellagio in Las Vegas, Nevada. He’d stayed here many times.

Las Vegas. Reese.

Something clicked into place.

He’d brought Reese to Las Vegas. He did remember that part. After her dumbass fiancé, his best friend, had told her he couldn’t marry her.

And Tony had told her he was in love with her.

He frowned.

He
was
in love with her.

And he’d been making love to her. And he’d stopped.

Maybe Jeff wasn’t the only dumbass around here.

He started back toward the bed. Reese clutched the sheet to her chin and scrambled back, scooting toward the headboard.

“Reese.”

“You don’t remember.” Her expression and tone were accusatory.

“I remember that we came to Vegas.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And then what?”

Okay, he actually knew the answer to this now that he was concentrating. “We went to a couple of clubs.”

The fogginess of his memories—particularly a memory like how he had ended up in bed, naked with Reese—indicated there had been tequila involved.

Fucking tequila.

He knew better.

She raised an eyebrow. “And then what?”

He tried to work back from the current moment, but that didn’t help at all. His head wasn’t pounding like it did after too much scotch and he didn’t feel sick to his stomach like he did after too much gin. It was just the lack of memory. Which definitely meant tequila. Which meant he had very little hope of remembering anything past about the sixth shot.

“We had tequila,” he said.

The inability to recall details didn’t concern him usually. The details were usually pretty much the same from one night to another in Vegas. There were clubs and music and drinking and sex. He didn’t take strangers back to the hotel with him—he either took his date with him to Vegas or he met up with one of the three women in Vegas that he liked to spend time with—so waking up next to a naked woman meant that it was someone he liked and trusted. Forgetting a few details like what color her eyes were or which exact clubs they’d visited didn’t really matter.

The clubs were pretty much all the same.

The women too.

Except that
this
morning, he’d awakened next to Reese.

The woman who now had her knees pulled up and her head resting on them, muttering something into the sheet that still, unfortunately, covered her.

He hadn’t gotten a really good look, and now he was definitely kicking himself for reacting like such a jerk.

But honestly, she’d woken him out of a dead sleep—another side effect of tequila.

The room had been dark. Okay,
dim
. And he’d been half asleep. And she’d been giving him a blowjob. A really good blowjob.

It wasn’t like it had been ideal conditions for paying close attention to anything except the driving need to get inside her.

And again, he’d assumed that whoever was with him in bed and doing
that
with her mouth, was someone he knew, trusted and even liked at least a little.

“Reese, honey, just…give me a minute.”

But slogging back through the memories of the night before felt like walking through waist-deep mud and slowly sinking. Nothing specific was coming back. He had the vague recollection of music and lights and laughter and kissing but, honestly, those could have been memories from any of his trips to Vegas.

Reese lifted her head, her expression now more sad, and maybe even embarrassed, than angry.

“So you really don’t remember what we did last night?”

“Honey, it’s not like I don’t
want
to,” he said.

She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t call me honey.” She threw a damp towel at him. “And cover up.”

He wrapped the towel around his waist. His erection was losing steam and that along with the still-in-place condom wasn’t a great look. “You don’t like honey?”

“You called me that while we were having sex. When you didn’t even know who I was.”

Now he wrinkled his nose. That was…unfortunate.

“I assume you use the word a lot?”

He couldn’t deny it. “It’s a term of endearment.” It was. He sincerely liked all of the women he took to bed. “I never use it because I forget someone’s name, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

She frowned. “You didn’t even know who I was,” she repeated.

“I realized it as soon as you started talking,” he said. “I’d know your voice anywhere.”

“Apparently, that wasn’t enough last night,” she said. “You know, the night you don’t remember.”

“It’s the tequila,” he said. Then he thought about what she’d said. “Are you telling me we had sex last night?”

The sadness and embarrassment melted into anger again. She slid to the edge of the bed, jerked the sheet free from the mattress and wrapped it around her tightly. “Never mind.”

She started for the bathroom, but Tony was faster.

He crossed the room and grabbed her elbow. “Reese, tell me about last night.”

How was it possible that he’d made love to her last night and didn’t remember? That was not good. In so many ways. Of course she was pissed. She had a right to be. Hell, if that was the case,
he
was pissed. He’d dreamed of worshipping Reese Sutherland’s body for months, and now he’d finally done it and he didn’t even fucking remember?