Beauty and the Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #2)(32)

There was something that filled him with anxiety and some sort of idea that he was hideous—his scars, probably. It was something that had affected him so much that he chased most people out of his life, lived in a big lonely house with no one but a grouchy butler, and avoided the world.

She’d take her time with him. It was important to her to show him how delicious he was and how wonderful sex could be.

And so she’d be patient. Or try to, anyhow.

***

Goddamn.

Hunter leaned against the pole in the greenhouse, his entire body feeling wrung out.

Had he imagined it all? That had to be it. Surely reality didn’t hold a place where someone as beautiful and sexy as Gretchen approached him in his greenhouse while he’d jerked on his cock, desperate with need for her. Reality didn’t include scenes like that. Nor did it have her kneeling in front of him, taking him in her mouth and finishing for him.

It did not have her moaning with her own pleasure as she took him into her throat.

He groaned, his mind full of images of her.

He’d never expected that in a million years. He was still shaken to his core by her.

That phone call at dinner had aroused something in him that he was unfamiliar with—jealousy. She’d gotten a phone call from a man, and white-hot agony had pierced his mind. He wanted her. He didn’t want that stranger she was so friendly with to have her.

Gretchen was his.

And before tonight, he’d have cast aside that idea. She didn’t want a scarred, lonely man. She deserved someone as lively and full of life as she was.

And yet tonight, she’d touched him. She’d taken him into her mouth and pleasured him. And when he’d tried to pull away, she’d insisted on finishing him.

His c*ck grew hard again, just thinking about her. Automatically, he took himself in his hand, stroking as he closed his eyes.

He’d been blown away by the sight of her gorgeous br**sts the other day when she’d flashed him. He allowed that visual to mix in with his erotic thoughts of her now. Her br**sts were full, with small, rosy n**ples. He pictured her nak*d as she knelt in front of him, the tips brushing against his skin as she took his c*ck in her mouth. Groaning, he fisted his c*ck harder.

At the thought of her beautiful lips parting to take him, the tip of her tongue flicking over the head, he came with a shout, spraying his cum on the path before him. Drained, Hunter collapsed to his knees, staring at his greenhouse.

He’d never picture it quite the same way ever again. Never be able to come here without seeing her kneeling in front of him.

It was his first sexual experience with someone else. And it had been flat-out amazing. He didn’t know what had possessed Gretchen to give such a gift to him, but he’d treasure it always.

***

Hunter dressed with care for dinner the next night. He’d spent the last day in turmoil, his world upended by his interlude with Gretchen.

He’d worked out until his skin dripped with sweat, then headed to the showers. But the showers made him think of Gretchen and how she’d discovered him nak*d. So he’d jerked off and then jerked off again when he thought of her, easing her robe open.

If she knew he was a virgin, she’d be appalled. Someone as open and forthright with her sexuality as Gretchen would laugh at him. So he needed to be relaxed at dinner. Act as if nothing had changed between them.

And yet he picked her a rose with extra care. He’d liked seeing one of his flowers behind her ear the other night. Perhaps he’d get to put this one on her, run his fingers along the delicate shell of her ear, tuck it into her red hair . . .

Throw her down on the table and f**k the hell out of her, make her give those wild, sexy little moans again.

Hunter shook his head, willing the visual out of his mind and for his c*ck to go down. He took a few moments to compose himself, then entered the dining room they used for their meetings.

It was empty.

She’d called off dinner. She was embarrassed by what she’d done. Disappointment flashed through him, and Hunter moved to the table, picking up the note there.

Dinner’s running late. I’m in the kitchens. G.

Immediately, he headed for the kitchens, hope putting a spring in his step. She wasn’t avoiding him, then. He adjusted his collar, finding it rather warm in the house, and played with the cuffs of his shirt as he entered the kitchen, rose in hand.

He didn’t see her at first. The delicious scent of baking bread filled the air, but he could see no one. His gaze scanned the kitchen and disappointment flared again.

Then Hunter noticed her bent over, her lovely ass flexing as she pulled something out of the oven. He immediately went hard again, longing tearing through him.

God, he wanted her.

“Oh! Hey,” Gretchen said, turning and closing the door to the oven with her foot. “Sorry about this. I thought the roast would be ready in a half hour, but it’s still looking a little pinker than I’d like, so we need to give it a bit more time. That’s why I’m still in here.” She set the bread pan on the counter and smiled at him. “Hope you don’t mind filling up on bread and appetizers until it’s done.”

He gave a brief, jerky nod, unable to take his eyes off her smiling face.

“Is that for me?”

“What?” He glanced down and noticed he was still clutching the pale yellow rose he’d picked for her. “Yes,” he said, internally wincing at the brusque tone of his voice.