Stranded with a Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #1)(56)

He groaned low against her mouth. “As soon as we get home, I’m making you mine, Bront?.”

That seemed like forever to wait. She flexed her thighs, clenching over the seat of his pants and feeling his erection press up against her. Her slinky dress had ridden up high on her thighs, and an inch or two more and she’d be exposed to him. She hadn’t been lying about her lack of undergarments, either, and right now she was feeling rather thankful for it.

Her hand slid between them, and she rubbed against his cock. “I don’t want to wait until we get home, Logan. I want you now.” Maybe it was the wine talking, or Danica’s bitter words that had dug into her skin . . . or her own desperate need for this man, but she needed him like a drowning woman needed air. “I don’t want to wait.”

Logan thrust up against her hand, his mouth sliding over hers desperately. “I don’t have a condom, Bront?.”

“I’m on the pill,” she said between frantic kisses, and then rubbed her hand over his c*ck again, stroking his length. “Please, Logan. Take me now.”

His hand slid between them, and she stilled, expecting him to unbutton his pants. Instead, she felt his hand slide over her sex, already wet with need. “Ah, Bront?,” he murmured. “Your skin feels like silk. Wet and ready for me already?”

She bit her lip and nodded, pressing her forehead to his, lost in sensation as his fingers danced over her needy flesh.

When his fingers grazed her clit, she cried out, but the sound was swallowed by his mouth. He kissed her, his tongue thrusting slow and deep into her mouth in a steady, maddening motion. Her h*ps rose and fell, echoing the stroke of his tongue, and his fingers continued to work her clit. She spiraled higher, reaching for her orgasm, only to whimper when he slid his hand away and began to undo his pants. Her fingers moved to help, frantically working to free him from his clothing and get him inside her.

Then he was lifting her hips, just a little, and she felt his c*ck against the hot well of her sex. He sank deep inside her, and she sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes widening at how fully he fill her. Another whimper escaped, and she began to rock furiously over him, her movements just as jerky as his. Hard, fast, and frantic, he pumped into her, wild with need. Her moans were swallowed by his mouth as she rode him with abandon, her h*ps slamming down over his.

The orgasm that ripped through her was almost violent in its intensity, and she cried out at the feeling of it, her entire body shuddering. He slammed into her again, and his mouth took hers roughly, and then she felt him coming inside her, too.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she clung to him, still astride his lap, her breathing rough. He was hers. Danica was wrong. Bitter, envious, and wrong. “I love you,” she blurted out, the words escaping before she could stop them.

Logan’s arms wrapped around her waist and held her tight in his lap.

But he didn’t say anything back.

And a little part of Bront? died.

Chapter Nine

“This meeting of the brotherhood is called to order,” Logan said around the cigar in his mouth. He handed the deck of cards to Hunter at his right. “Deal.”

The scarred man took the cards and gave Logan a wary look, but said nothing. That suited Logan just fine. If his mood was a bit black at the moment, he didn’t give a shit if his friends knew it or not. They could all be in pissy moods for all he cared. A table full of cranky a**holes suited him at the moment, since he was one.

Bront? had been sad and listless for the past two days, and he didn’t know what to do about it. Fucking Danica. He still suspected that she’d gotten her claws into Bront? despite the talk he’d had with her. Something had changed between them that night. The lovemaking was just as intense as ever, but her smile seemed somewhat faded, and he could have sworn that when he came in the room sometimes, her eyes were red as if she’d been crying. She always said nothing was wrong, but he could tell.

She’d told him she loved him, and he’d given her a hug. He wasn’t the kind to declare his love, though. Not before a prenup was signed and he could be sure of her feelings. He’d traveled down that road once before, and he wasn’t going to be taken again. His father had been a tough buzzard, too. Just before he’d died, he’d mocked Logan for being so upset about Danica’s reluctance to sign the prenup. What had Logan expected after spouting off about feelings to her? Of course she wasn’t going to sign, his father had sneered. Logan had declared his love for her. She had him by the balls. Hawkings men didn’t declare their feelings, because it gave power to someone else.

Logan wouldn’t make that mistake again. So he had said nothing when Bront? had confessed her feelings to him, even though he’d felt a surge of satisfaction at her admission. She loved him. His beautiful, sweet Bront? loved him.

Bront? had common sense—it was one of the charming things about her—but he didn’t know what to do with her sadness. Common sense told him to ignore it. But her melancholy bothered him. It bothered him even more that she was trying to hide it. Hence, his foul mood.

The door opened, and Cade walked in, the last to arrive. “Sorry I’m late,” he said. “Hold up at the office. Someone deal me in?”

“’Bout f**king time,” Logan said, tossing the cigar in his mouth into the ashtray on the table. “We can start now.”

Drinks were passed in his direction, as well as chips. Cade was giving him a scrutinizing look but said nothing as Hunter dealt the cards. After a moment, he looked over at Logan again, and said, “I enjoyed meeting Bront? the other day.”