Torn (Billionaire Bachelors Club #2)(31)

I wrap my hands around her waist, guiding her, my gaze locked where our bodies meet. She’s moving on me slow and sure, little murmurs of pleasure escaping her, and I can’t look away. I’m entranced by the way she moves, the words she says, the way she looks at me.

What am I doing? What is she doing to me? I feel lost . . . gloriously, deliciously lost in my need to have her.

Only her.

I’m closer to the edge, unable to hold back, when she reaches between us and touches my cock, then her clit. The sight of her slender fingers playing down there sends me right over the edge, making me gasp as my hips buck against her. She smiles her encouragement, murmuring my name, and I grab hold of her ponytail pulling her face to mine so I can drown in her kiss.

Fuck. I’m wrecked. All because of this woman.

Chapter Nine

Marina

I ENTER THE building with my head held high, pretending I have everything completely under control, while inside I’m a confused mass of jumbled nerves and rapidly growing insecurities. Smoothing my hair back from my face, I glance toward Gage as he stops just beside me, tall and commanding, earning plenty of appreciative glances from the various women sitting in the lobby and waiting to be seated.

He finds me watching him and flashes me a dazzling smile, making my heart race. I remember what he looked like only minutes ago, dazed and fascinated with me as I rose above him, naked and greedy and crazed with wanting him. Riding his thick c**k straight into oblivion.

I don’t know what came over me. Watching him drive that powerful, outrageously expensive car, his big hand shifting the gears, his thighs flexing as he pressed the pedals, sent me into a sexual tizzy. Just like that, I wanted him. Had to have him at that very moment or felt like I was going to die. I’ve never reacted like that to a man.

Ever.

“Do I look okay?” I whisper, leaning into him as I tuck yet another tendril behind my ear. I’d slicked on fresh lipstick while still in the car, pulling my clothes into place as best I could. He’d barely done anything, just tucked himself back into his jeans, tugged on his sweater, and he was good to go.

Men. They’re disgustingly easy sometimes.

“Truth?” He smiles, and I sort of want to punch him for being so ridiculously good looking. I feel like a frazzled mess while he looks amazing. His hair is a little messy—from my eager fingers, I might add—but it’s a good look for him.

Everything’s a good look for him.

“Of course, tell me the truth,” I mutter, irritated. Great, I must look a complete mess if he feels the need to tell me the “truth.” I wonder if I have time to dash into the bathroom and put myself back together before we have to go sit down with Archer and his fiancé.

I really hope I like his fiancé. I’m more nervous meeting her than talking with Archer. Women hold such a strong influence on their men and their decisions. I know Archer’s a respected businessman, but from what I understand, he’s so far gone over this new and very steady woman in his life, I’m sure he listens to her opinion.

So what if she hates me? She could tell Archer how she feels and bam. My chance is over.

Gage grabs hold of my elbow and tugs me closer to him, his mouth right at my ear, hot breath fanning against my skin and making me shiver before he whispers, “You look . . . freshly f**ked. And beautiful with it.”

I pull away to meet his gaze, utterly speechless.

He grins. “It’s a good look on you. One I suggest you wear as often as possible.”

I smile and follow through with my earlier instinct, giving him a slug on the arm. He smirks, leans in once more and kisses my cheek, his lips lingering, warm and soft and so comforting I want to melt. “I can keep you in that look all night if you want.”

“Stop.” I shove him away from me, noticing the strange looks we’re receiving from those waiting for a table. Great.

I so don’t want to draw attention to the two of us together. What if someone recognizes us and it gets back to my dad that I’m out on a date with Gage? From what Gage told me, he’s tried to get in contact with my father numerous times since our first encounter. And I know he’s tried to talk to him prior to our meeting too.

I’m basically hanging out with the enemy. My dad would be furious, though I haven’t talked to him about Gage. I’m too scared. It’s bad enough I told my mom his name. It didn’t dawn on me at the time since I was too busy looking for something to wear and not thinking with all cylinders firing. I’d been a little brain-warped after our night together, and now? After the incident in the car?

I’m toast. Done.

“Considering I know just how much you enjoyed getting that particular look, I wanted to make the offer,” he says from over his shoulder as he moves away from me, approaching the hostess’s counter and asking if our other party has already been seated. He flicks his head for me to follow and I do so like a good little girlfriend, letting him take my hand, loving the way he entwines my fingers with his as he leads me through the restaurant.

I can’t believe I’ve fallen into this role so easily. I shouldn’t want to. I shouldn’t do it at all. I’m not his girlfriend and he’s not my boyfriend. We’re not even in a real relationship.

We’re at one of the most expensive and revered restaurants in Napa Valley. Gage and Archer have exquisite taste, I’ll give them that. The place is overflowing with beautiful people, all of them dressed to perfection. I can’t see anything but a sea of suits and finely cut dresses. They all look like they just came out of work.