Stranded with a Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #1)(73)

Dazed, Bront? stared down at the picture. A hot flush crept over her cheeks—in the photo, she was clinging to Logan, the two of them wrapped around each other, the Statue looming in the distance.

She loved that picture.

He leaned in and her breath caught. She stared up at him, hoping for another kiss, but his mouth moved to her ear.

“I want you,” he told her. And he bit her earlobe.

She did moan then, the sound low and full of longing.

“Shall we find someplace private?” he asked her, still nibbling on her ear and making her bones turn to liquid. “Get to know each other a little better . . . all over again?”

“M-my place,” she breathed. “Not yours.”

“That’s fine. Your roommate?”

“Working today,” Bront? told him, and was suddenly wildly thankful that Gretchen had a job of some kind that got her out of the apartment. “All ours.”

“Good,” he told her, and the sound was full of so much satisfaction and promise that she went weak in the knees all over again.

Bront? clung to him on the ferry ride back to Battery Park. His arms were wrapped around her, and she had gone all too easily into his embrace. Waiting to get back to the apartment was a slow, delicious torture, but it gave her time to think . . . and stew in her own thoughts.

He’d taken her out to Liberty Island to see the Statue. Bront? thought of her comment on the plane ride to New York. She’d asked him about seeing the Statue and teased him about how clichéd it was and how she still wanted to do it. Such a small, offhand comment, but he’d remembered it. He’d remembered that she loved sightseeing and had wanted to see the city, and had taken her on a tour of New York City with every date. Even when Logan was deliberate, he was thoughtful.

And he’d completely stolen her heart.

Gretchen had warned her about falling too fast all over again, but this was Logan. Her Logan. Warm and delicious and handsome and thoughtful . . .

And totally loaded. And all wrong for a poor Midwestern waitress.

Well, she wouldn’t worry about that right now. They were heading back to her apartment she shared temporarily with Gretchen, and they were going to make love. Her body thrummed and ached with need for him.

He hadn’t told her he loved her, though.

She wouldn’t tell him she loved him, either. This, she told herself, was just mutual using. Both parties seeking satisfaction. No emotions had to be involved, really. It was just the natural progression of a normal relationship, after all.

It sounded totally convincing in her head.

Truth was, their relationship had never been all that normal. From the moment she’d met Logan until now, it seemed they’d done everything half backward and sideways.

He wasn’t the right guy for her in the long run, she told herself. No billionaire could see himself with a waitress long-term. Those sorts of things were generally pretty incompatible.

But she could enjoy him while she had him. And she would. She would think about the future some other time.

***

Logan rubbed Bront?’s shoulder as she leaned against him in the car. The drive to Gretchen’s apartment was f**king endless, and his entire body sang with a need to pull Bront? into his lap, tear down her panties, and drive into her.

But he had to be patient. She was calling the shots for now, because she needed to feel comfortable again. That was why they were going all the way across town to Gretchen’s apartment instead of heading to his place on the Upper East Side. Bront? was in control.

At least until he got her nak*d and squirming under him. Then he was taking control, and he’d make sure she was screaming her pleasure before he even thought about his own.

He nearly swore with relief when the apartment building came into sight. He opened the door, got out, and then held the door for Bront?. He gave the driver a nod, signaling that he wouldn’t need his services for the rest of the evening, and then wrapped his arm around Bront?’s waist again.

She stared up at him with a soft, passion-dazed expression that made his c*ck hard. “What about your driver?”

“I dismissed him for the night.” He met her gaze, almost daring her to contradict him and send him home with a peck on the cheek—like he’d been doing to her—and a raging hard-on.

He forced himself to be patient as Bront? fumbled with the keys, and then they climbed the stairs of the walk-up. By the time they got to Gretchen’s floor, he was pretty sure he would kill Audrey’s sister if they opened the door and found her standing there. His c*ck was so hard he ached, and he’d just spent four flights of stairs gazing up at Bront?’s perfect ass as it flexed with every step.

To his relief, the apartment was dark. Bront? flipped on a light when they entered, and a wrinkly gray animal darted across the room, startling Logan. “What was that?”

Bront? seemed amused by his reaction, her laughter chasing away the soft desire in her face. “That’s Igor. He’s a hairless cat.”

He glanced at the animal, which seemed to be all ears and wrinkles. It stared back at him with wide golden eyes. “Hideous.”

“It does take some getting used to,” she agreed with a smile.

“Can you shut him away in Gretchen’s room?”

“I can,” she said, and her voice had gone all breathy again. She bent low and snapped her fingers, and the cat darted over to her. Bront? scooped it up in her arms and disappeared into a side room, returning a moment later and shutting the door behind her. Her cheeks were flushed as if she’d been running . . . or was aroused. The anticipation was getting to her.