Tapping The Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires #1)(61)

Georgia was nervous. And about a pot of coffee deep into the caffeine jitters.

She seemed uncertain if I’d enjoyed last night, which was insane. First time or not, Georgia Cummings knew just how to sexually woo a man.

A tight, hot * was just the beginning because the rest of it was what I would remember. The shake of her body, the gravel in her voice. The way her words turned into moans, and those, in the fiery inferno of her orgasm, gave way to nothing but enraptured silence. Her eyes held mine, and her heartbeat was my second favorite part of her chest.

Nirvana was the only way to describe it.

I knew she felt it along with me then, and I knew, deep down, she knew it now, too. I just needed to remind her.

I moved to the shower, turning the nozzle and letting the water warm up.

She glanced over her shoulder at the squeal of the pipes. “What are you doing?”

“Just want to make sure the plumbing is still good in here,” I lied. The only plumbing I cared about was hers.

I smiled in reassurance. She kept the suspicious face but turned back to her task.

Once the water hit a good temperature, I moved toward her, wrapping my arms around her waist, and whispered into her ear, kissing the soft skin of her neck.

“Hey, guess what?”

“What?” She shivered but didn’t stop painting.

I kissed her jaw and stepped back, holding my hand out. “Let me borrow that roller for a second. I have a little trick that makes it easier,” I lied again.

She shrugged, handing it to me. I set it down in the tray, glancing at the shower and noting the steam rising from the floor.

Perfect.

It was time to take this situation into my own hands. I grabbed her hips and tossed her over my shoulder before she could stop me.

“Kline!” she squeaked as I strode toward the shower, the top fragments of her bun tickling the skin of my thighs. She smacked my ass and back as I stepped under the showerhead, water drenching us both.

“Holy shit!” she shrieked as the water soaked into her skin and very few clothes. “What the hell!”

Chuckling, I set Georgia on her feet and ignored her glare. I reached around her back with a flourish, popping the clasp on her bra and dragging it off her arms and down until it landed at our feet. She was a vision, wet, waiting, and wearing nothing but my briefs.

“I enjoyed last night.” Her uncertain eyes warmed just slightly. “So much that I feel compelled to thank you—” I paused and licked my lips with a wink. “And this perfect f*cking *.” Her eyes widened, but I didn’t wait, sliding down her body, kissing between her swinging breasts, her belly, until I reached the waistband of my underwear.

“Kline?”

“Shh,” I said into her skin, pulling a tiny section between my teeth. “I’m a little busy right now.”

She shook as I slipped the briefs down her legs and pressed my mouth against her pubic bone, licking the water from her skin. “God, Benny girl, last night, you blew my f*cking mind. It’s safe to say I want to do that with you for the next one hundred years. It was the best goddamn sex of my entire life.”

“Really?” she whimpered.

“You. Were. Perfect.” My lips trailed down her inner thigh.

Her legs were trembling, her hands sliding into my hair and tugging desperately.

“Did you enjoy last night?” I prompted, putting the ball back in her court. “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

“God, yes. Last night was perfect,” she moaned, her head falling back thanks to my suction on her *.

Sweet like candy, I feasted on the taste of her until her inner muscles tried to take possession of my tongue.

Goddamn, I wanted that * to milk another part of me.

“How sore are you, sweetheart?”

She shook her head ‘no,’ but her eyes said ‘God, yes.’

“I need to feel what it’s like to be inside you again. I want to feel that pretty * squeeze the cum out of my cock.”

“Yes,” she moaned. “Please. Now.”

I picked her up and wrapped her legs around me tight, moving us down the hall and into my bedroom before tossing her wet body onto the mattress. My sheets would be soaked, but f*ck if I cared. I grabbed a condom out of my bag, tearing the package with my teeth as she watched from the bed.

“So, I guess this means there really weren’t any painting tips?” she teased, biting her bottom lip.

“It’s all about the strokes, baby,” I said, flashing a devilish grin as I slid the condom on, stroking up and down my length to punctuate that statement.

I crawled onto the bed, moving between her legs. She gripped my ass as I held her thighs, my fingertips branding her skin, and spreading them wider until the tip of my cock nestled against the one place I needed to be.

“Now, Kline. God, I can’t wait any longer,” she begged. Her hips pushed up, urging me closer.

The second I pushed inside of her, we both cried out, losing ourselves in each other and chasing each other’s pleasure.

I spent the next two hours using my cock and mouth and hands to reassure Georgia that sex with her was the single best thing I’d ever experienced, and she gave every second of that time to confirming it.

Hands down, motherf*cking nirvana.





“Windows up or down?” he asked, cranking the engine and putting the gearshift into drive.