The Billionaire Bargain #2(21)

He flipped me onto my back, staying inside me and barely pausing before pounding me into the mattress, his speed and power increasing, his hands squeezing the globes of my ass as he dove into me, taking me, taking all that I could give, God I was so wet, I was so ready, I wanted everything he had for me— “Come, Lacey,”he ordered, his voice low and grating with need, sweat dripping down his chest.“Come for me, you sexy f*cking—”

He drove into me one last time and came, and the feel of him collapsing on top of me sent my orgasm ripping through me like a force of nature.





EIGHT


I woke slowly, like rising out of a warm cloud. I was sprawled on the expanse of Grant’s broad chest, his arm draped over my shoulders, and I felt so safe and secure in the shelter of his embrace. How could I ever have fought this? In this man’s arms was exactly where I belonged. All was right with the world.

“Sleep well?” he murmured, a sexily low morning rumble.

“Mmm, perfectly,” I said. I looked up at him, at that adorably sleep-rumpled morning hair, the print of the pillow on his cheek. He was sexy and disheveled and all, all mine.

He brushed a lock of hair out of my eyes and made a face. “Naughty hair. Kept me from seeing your lovely face.”

I blushed. “You have a lovely face.”

“Well, that’s a new one on me,” he said, not quite smirking yet. “And I beg to differ. Yours is the lovely one. It’s got lovely dark eyes—” he bopped my eyelids lightly—“a cute little nose—” another bop—“and an absolutely sinful mouth.”

His thumb stroked the edge of my lips, and I nipped it, drawing a growl from him that made my knees turn to jelly.

“And it’s got this lovely soft skin. In fact, you have lovely soft skin absolutely everywhere.” His hands began to roam, cupping my breasts. “I particularly like how it feels here—“

And then the phone rang.

I groaned and flopped face-down on his chest. “You should get that.”

I wasn’t looking at him, but I could hear the childish face he was making in his voice. “But it’s probably boring!”

I rolled off of him and sprawled on the silk sheets out of his reach. “Well, that’s the price of fake-being-with-me, Mister. You have to do lots of boring, grown-up, responsible things. It’s very high-maintenance. Think you can handle it?”

“I’d rather handle you,” he grumbled, and leaned over to blow a raspberry in my ear. I could feel his growing smile against my skin, though. “I think I can maybe make that sacrifice. Only for you, though.”

I tilted up my head for him to press a quick kiss to my lips. He took the opportunity to try to drag it out a bit longer, but pulled away when I gave him a playful shove, and took the bedside phone off the hook. He made a face at me as though I’d put salt in his Cocoa Puffs before answering.

“Yes, this is Grant Devlin. Look, the party was dragging, I wanted to show Lacey the grounds—well, I would have answered my cell, but it’s probably halfway down the stream on its way to Mexico by now—look, what was so important that you had to work your way down the list of phone numbers till you hit this one?”

A pause while the other person spoke, and Grant’s face went blank. All animation left his expression abruptly. He began to speak in monosyllables.

"Yes. I see. I can see that. No. I’ll deal with it. Yes. Bye.”

He put the phone down and stared off into the distance as if he had forgotten what came next.

“Grant, what happened?” I asked, sitting up with the blanket clutched around me. Alarm was beginning to bubble in my chest. “Is everyone okay? Did someone get hurt? Is it something with the company?”

“Bad news.” He cleared his throat. Why couldn’t he look me in the eye? For a few seconds I thought he wasn’t going to elaborate further, and then he went on, as though each word were stuck in his throat. “A tape. There’s—a tape. A sex one. It just leaked.”

“Of us?!” How the hell could that have happened? We’ve only had sex this night, and that one time in his hallway—did he have cameras—did someone spy on us—

“No, no. No. A girl I…dated…last year.”

“Oh,” I said.

I could feel the floor beginning to fall out from under me.

“Well.” The words seemed reluctant to leave Grant’s mouth. “Well, two girls. Whom I…dated…concurrently.”

“You can say the word ‘f*cked,’ Grant,” I snapped. “I’m not going to faint.”

He reeled backwards from me, a hurt look on his face, as if I’d hit him. I wasn’t being fair, oh God I knew I wasn’t being fair and I felt guilty as hell seeing that lost puppy look on his face, but I couldn’t let him see how shocked and insecure I felt. I couldn’t.

I pulled the blanket tighter around my ample form, wondering what those two girls had looked like. Probably glossy blonde, deeply tanned. Probably thinner.

Certainly thinner.

They’d probably been daring and adventurous and hadn’t constantly demanded that he put in time and work and commitment and responsibility when he didn’t even love—

No, no, no. There was no time for this self-pity. There was work to do.