Beauty and the Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #2)(46)

He tilted the phone away from his mouth so only she could hear his response. “So I never forget who—and what—I am.”

“That’s depressing,” she told him, and then rolled her eyes when he shushed her. “You know who does that? Emo people.”

“Uh-huh,” Hunter said, but his response wasn’t for her. His fingers had moved slightly up her waistband and had moved to her skin. He now grazed her skin over and over as he alternately talked and listened. “How many inspectors did you send out?”

That small touch on her skin was driving her crazy. Gretchen leaned forward on his desk, glancing up in the mirror. Hunter’s gaze was on her, his focus intense. He had the phone to his ear, but it was clear his attention was riveted to her. She felt her pulse begin to thrum with excitement, and she gave her thighs a little squeeze to see his reaction.

His eyes widened and he tilted his head back against his chair, as if trying to keep control. “Mmmhmm.”

She could hear the strain in his voice even as he answered the person on the other end of the phone.

“Go on.”

She was pretty sure he hadn’t been talking to her, but she decided to feign ignorance. Gretchen glanced across the desk at the mirror on the far wall and decided to take the teasing in another direction. She pulled her shirt over her head, tossed it on the ground, and cupped her br**sts through her bra.

He pushed forward, pinning her against the desk as he reached for the mute button again. “You’re not playing fair, Gretchen.”

“You told me to go on,” she said, tweaking her n**ples.

“Goddamn it.” His gaze was riveted on her br**sts. “I’m going to have to fight fire with fire, aren’t I?”

“I wish you would,” she breathed, excited at the prospect.

His hand on her hip moved forward, between her legs, his gaze on her in the mirror.

She arched her back, letting him know that he was heading in the right direction, and spread her legs a little wider on his lap.

“I’m a very busy man,” he said in a husky voice, the phone still on mute. “I can’t afford these distractions.”

“Of course not,” she said innocently.

His hand slipped into her panties, his fingers seeking out her wet heat. He groaned when his fingers touched her p**sy. “You’re soaked already.”

“Thinking about you gets me hot,” she said, teasing one bra strap down her shoulder. “Can’t help myself.”

Hunter’s fingers caressed her folds, exploring her. One fingertip grazed her clit, and she was unable to keep herself from crying out in response.

He jerked forward, cradling the phone against his ear, his other hand still trapped in her panties and pushing against her flesh. He released the mute button and growled into the phone, “I’m going to have to drop off the call. Someone send me the meeting minutes.”

And he hung up. The look on his face was hard and almost forbidding. “You’re derailing my plans, Gretchen.”

She kept the smile pinned to her face, though she couldn’t tell if he was furious at her or not. “You derailed mine. I kept thinking about you and couldn’t get any work done.”

And she gave one of her br**sts a squeeze just to distract him.

“Clearly you need a taste of your own medicine.” His fingers moved across her cl*t again, and she jerked in his lap, that little touch sending skitters of pleasure through her body.

“Is this your idea of punishment?” Her laugh was breathless with need.

“Actually, I just want to touch you,” he whispered in her ear. His hand moved to cover hers over her breast, and his fingers danced against her clit.

She shifted her h*ps to push him to the exact spot that would send her wild with pleasure, since his seeking fingers kept coming close but weren’t quite there. “Then touch me all you want.”

And she rolled her h*ps against him, bearing down against his cock.

He groaned, his hand tightening against her breast. His fingers began to move rapidly against her clit, stroking back and forth in slick little motions that made her breath hitch in her throat. “Gretchen, I don’t know how long I’ll last with you on my lap like this.”

“Then maybe we should get that condom on you,” she agreed breathlessly. “And then I can get back on your lap after you put it on.”

He pushed his chair backward so they were no longer pinned to his desk.

Gretchen got off his lap and produced the condom again, kneeling between his legs in front of his chair. His c*ck seemed enormous, the tent in his pants straining, and she sighed blissfully at the sight. Her hands pulled at his belt, ready to put on the condom him.

He stopped her, his hand covering hers. “I can do this. I want you to get nak*d.”

So very authoritative. She shivered, standing up and tugging at the laced waistband of her yoga pants. Gretchen pulled the knot free, then shimmied the pants down her legs, letting them drop to the ground. She’d worn her cutest pair of panties today—hot pink silk with little black bows at the hips.

They, too, went to the ground.

His belt quickly followed, and then he was dragging his pants down his hips, along with his boxers. His c*ck jutted into the air, and she licked her lips with the sight of it. A moment later, he was smoothing the condom down the length of it, and then he turned his eyes aching with need on her.