The Billionaire Bargain #2(19)
In the dark the forms of the trees and hills seemed imbued with a solemn, serene beauty, almost a power. Owls hooted softly in the distance, cicadas hummed, lightning bugs danced through the air. I looked out into the wild night, and up into Grant’s face, and I thought, Oh, I could get used to this.
We came upon a cabin hewn from logs of red pine. It was charmingly rustic-looking from the outside, but the moment we stepped in I saw the granite fireplace, the marble countertop, the genuine antique Oriental rugs.
I saw, through a door, the bed.
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, and for the first time I really thought the words that had been flitting around my subconscious mind since the moment I kissed Grant’s throat: We’re going to have sex.
Five little words, and they sent a thrill up my spine, made my hands tingle where they touched Grant’s, made my lips and skin tingle where he had touched and kissed.
Was he feeling the same? This strangle, bubbly, nervous excitement, as if sparks were playing across his skin? I snuck a glance at him and saw him sneaking one at me as well, almost shy. He smiled, and I giggled. That wine was really something else.
Grant led me to the bathroom, the tub hewn from mica-speckled pink marble, and filled it with steaming hot water and a perfumed oil that smelled of roses.
We’re going to have sex.
Oh God. Could I do this? Of course I could do this. I couldn’t not do this, couldn’t walk away from the magic of his touch, of the heat radiating from his body so close to mine. I just had to remember to keep it light, keep it casual. This was just a bit of fun.
I watched those strong hands twist off the faucet, the steam rising between us as he rose to face me, and I saw the hunger in his eyes like a lion.
I’m about to have sex with my boss.
I almost came just from that thought, so naughty, so forbidden. Only that slight edge of nerves, like champagne bubbles popping in my stomach, kept me hemming in, my feet skittering back slightly as Grant leaned forward and captured me once more in a powerful kiss.
And then I forgot everything but him.
Looking deeply into my eyes, he slowly unbuttoned my dress, letting it slide to the floor around my ankles. He let his hands roam to my back and unhook my bra, the insubstantial silk drifting through the air as my nipples hardened against the light brush of his thumbs. He reached down, easing my pink satin panties down my thighs. His hands moved slowly, lazily, temptingly as he wrapped them around me and set me gently into the embrace of the warm water, where I propped my head against my hand and watched him watching me.
There were so many things I wanted to say. Keep it light, Lacey, don’t get invested. Play it cool.
“The lady would like her show now,” I murmured, and his pupils dilated.
Those elegant fingers traveled down his rumpled dress shirt, sliding mother-of-pearl buttons through the holes until he could shrug the garment off, revealing his sculpted chest and powerful shoulders, the occasional scars along his powerful arms only accentuating their perfection. Light golden hair ran along his tanned skin, and I wanted so badly to touch him, to feel where he was rough and smooth, strong and scarred.
His pants and briefs came off together in one smooth movement, and oh God, the muscles of his thighs and calves, like he was a Greek statue come to life, and that cock, just like I remembered it, long and thick and already hard, his hand coming down to stroke it almost unconsciously as he stared at me, his eyes intense. As my mouth watered.
“You going to leave me in here all alone?” I asked softly.
His eyes flashed fire, and he stepped into the water, looming over me.
He ran the washcloth gently over my chest, soaping my breasts, then slid it down to caress my legs and thighs. I bit my lip to keep from whimpering in delight, I couldn’t let him know how good it felt, how much I wanted it, wanted him…
Oh God, this was really happening, his hand was really stroking my thighs, climbing up to my aching center, his fingers were really sliding in, this had to be a dream, an impossible dream…
My hands were roaming across his muscled back without a single signal from my brain, coming forward to stroke his broad chest, sliding soapily downwards to his powerful legs then taking firm hold of the base of his shaft.
He groaned, his eyes squeezing shut like a contented cat as he let his head fall against the hollow of my neck, planting lazy, dreamlike kisses along the skin there, panting as I began to work his cock harder and faster.
“You’re so f*cking sexy,” he growled into my ear, nipping my earlobe, and my thighs clenched as I almost came from his words alone.
“You're beautiful,” I whispered back, and he was. Like an angel angled over me, his skin gleaming and hair glistening in the soft light.
He raised his head then, and looked into my eyes with an expression like wonder. Then he reached down and stopped my hand.
“Wait,” he said when I started to protest. “There’s something we—there’s something I have to show you first.”
Still more than slightly tipsy, we helped each other from the tub, giggling at the accidental and not-so-accidental brushes of skin. He took my hand and pulled me into the bedroom, lifting me up and dropping me on the bed before I even had time to yelp in surprise. But he didn’t join me on the bed, not yet.
Instead, he reached into the pocket of his muddy dress pants and pulled out a small black box, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe.