Million Dollar Devil (Million Dollar #1)(65)

I love it. I CAN’T control myself. “You make me lose it,” I gasp.

He rolls me to my back and pulls one of my legs, draping it around his shoulders. “You haven’t lost it enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve yet to come all over me,” he says, pushing me down and thrusting in without a condom, eyes flashing with desire as he watches me take every thrust and meet him with a thirsty roll of my hips.

“We ran out of condoms.” I pout, which is a feat in itself.

“I’ll pull out—I’m safe. Do you trust me?”

We stop for a moment, our breaths coming in gusts. I hold his gaze and feel myself nod. “Yes,” I gasp.

He pulls my hair back to expose my neck and give it a thousand and one fierce licks.

He groans as if he likes my taste. I clutch his hair and count my lucky stars that I’m on the pill. I can’t stop him. Won’t stop him. Want him, this, desperately.

My breasts heave up and down from the force of each of those breaths. His body covers mine, all muscle and sinew, so hot that we’re both sweating from the combined heat of our bodies so close together. Draped in sweat from the absolute ideal and perfect exercise that we’re both doing as we fuck like rabbits.

I go off with a soft cry, and James lifts up and smothers the tip of one of my breasts in his mouth, groaning my name as he pulls out, grabs his dick in his hand, and pulls as he comes all over my abdomen.

I groan and watch his semen fall like rain on my skin, my whole body clutching in fresh new arousal.

“Best I ever had.” James shoves his two longest fingers into his mouth and pops them out, a growling ummm following. Then he smiles down at me. My smile silently admits to him the feeling is mutual.





GOING HOME

I’m giddy when we get into Atlanta. The first thing I did at LAX was pick up the hot-off-the-presses issue of GQ, and there, in a full-color spread, was gorgeous James, wearing a black Banks suit. Just as I’d hoped, the ad popped like crazy. He’s going to make Banks LTD a mint.

But having that gorgeous man in the seat next to me isn’t the reason I’m giddy.

Holding James’s hand in mine, I’m thinking about what he said. Life without risks is just surviving.

I want to live.

So right there, I make a resolution. I’m going to tell my father who James is, and that he and I are together.

My father will think I’m insane. He will be disappointed. He might not speak to me, and this could drive a wedge between us, which will make my assuming the reins at Banks impossible.

But I don’t care about that. Not as much as I care about James. And if my father really loved me, he’d support me.

“You look like you’re thinking some really deep thoughts,” James says, leaning in, his breath tickling my ear.

He’s completely oblivious to every woman on the plane looking at him. And they are all looking, probably wondering what movie star he is. It only makes me more certain that this is what I need to do. I say, “Just thinking about some things I need to do when we get back.”

“We have more shows, right? More places where you need to show me off?”

I nod. “We do. A few. My father and LB will be at those. But you’ve impressed everyone so far. I’m sure you’ll continue to do so.”

“That’s the name of the game, Miss Banks,” he says.

“You can cut the formal act,” I say to him. “It’s not like any clients are here.”

“But we’re still in public,” he says. “And I can’t say I hate it so much, anymore. It’s growing on me.”

I suppose it is. I didn’t tell him how to dress for the flight, and yet he put on slacks, loafers, and a button-down and looks about ready for drinks with the rest of the Rat Pack. Me? I slipped into jeggings and an oversize sweater, for comfort. For the first time around him, I feel a little underdressed.

“What I was thinking,” I tell him, “was a little more about us. You and me.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You mean, how things are going to be, now that we’ve . . .”

I nod, hoping he’ll tell me exactly what his intentions are. I want to spend the rest of my life with you would fit in so very nicely here.

Instead, he says, “Well. Let’s just play it by ear. We shouldn’t get too far ahead of ourselves yet.”

I nod, bristling as I think of Daniel, my ex. That’s just something Daniel would’ve said. Let’s not get too carried away, let’s play it loose, let’s take things slow . . . He was a master at deflection. And then he’d totally screw me over when I needed him most.

I’m not going to let that happen again.

I can’t pretend a little part of me doesn’t deflate when I answer, “Right. Of course.”

Maybe I’ll wait a little bit before telling my father that James and I are together.

Yes. That makes more sense.

When the plane lands, we walk up the aisle and step up the ramp. When we reach baggage check, there is a huge crowd of reporters waiting at the end of the escalators. As we descend upon them, I wonder if there really was a famous person aboard the airplane. Then I realize that they’re all shouting for James.

I blink, amazed that the publicity campaign that was launched simultaneously while our traveling began—in GQ, on several city billboards, and on bus and metro ads—has already had such a massive impact. James looks around as if this is surreal. Which it is! Banks LTD has never had such a crazily successful advertising campaign. He looks at me and gives me a wink. “This is wild,” he murmurs.