Tapping The Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires #1)(89)

Her finger shot to my lips and pushed to say ‘be quiet’.

“It was just Mr. Brooks,” she said into the phone, rolling her eyes. “No, I’m still in the lobby.”

I went to speak, but she pushed on my lips harder. “Nope. The meeting ran really late and we still have a couple of things to go over before we call it a night.”

I smiled. No one here was going to be calling it a night.

She shook her head in the negative and bit her bottom lip. My balls tightened immediately. Even they knew it was time to play.

“Georgie girl,” I whispered mischievously. She shushed me and waved me away, pointing at the phone with wild eyes. She was just too easy.

“Come tuck me in,” I teased, grabbing at her hips and backing her toward the elevators.

I pushed the up button to call the car and pulled her hips into mine. Hair loose from its earlier binding, she looked wild and willing and altogether too much like sex to stop.

“Dean, Dean,” she called, obviously trying to break into his end of steady conversation. “You know, you’ve got this covered.”

I smiled bigger. Pulled her breasts tighter to my chest.

“It was really just my neuroses calling. You’re plenty competent to have everything ready on your own.”

“Mm-hmm,” I hummed, moving the hair off of her neck and sucking at her skin greedily.

She was dying to give me one of her signature, scolding Kline!s, I could feel it in her posture and staccato-timed wording, but with Dean on the line, secrecy won out.

“I know. I’ll be sure to give Donatella Versace my recommendation, should I ever run into her on the street.” She nodded at the phone, at something Dean said, a gesture he obviously couldn’t see, and I swooned.

Hands down, Georgia Cummings was one of the most charmingly fascinating women I’d ever encountered. Dichotomous in nearly everything she did, I never knew which way was up or which version of her I would get. Awkward or easy, bold or shy, endlessly clever or laughably bumbling. Every time, day or night—work or play—I’d take any version I met.

“Hang up the phone, baby,” I coaxed, pushing her gently into the open and waiting car.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said into the line. “Yes, butt-f*cking early.” We both smiled like lunatics. “I’ll see you then.”

Finally, blessedly, she cut the call just as the doors of the elevator shut out the people.

I grabbed her hips, groping and squeezing at the top of her ass.

“God. It’s about time,” I teased, running my tongue along the closed seam of her lips.

“Fuck,” she breathed as her head fell back and her hair hung well past her shoulders. I gripped the ends of it and yanked her throat open even farther.

“Ahh,” she moaned, shoving her tit right into the palm of my waiting free hand.

“That’s it,” I cooed, circling her hard nipple with the tip of my thumb.

“Kline,” she breathed. She could barely keep up with the rhythm of her pants.

“I can’t wait to hear you say that again. On my face, on my cock…I’m gonna strip you down and sit you up on every f*cking thing I can think of.”

“God,” she moaned as the doors opened on our floor. I scooped her up and into my arms, glancing at the sign that would tell me which way to go to our room.

Too f*cking far from the elevator, at the end of the hall, I finally came face to face with our door. Georgia clung to me as I set her down to pull the plastic key card from my pocket. I couldn’t wait to make love to every single inch of her petite body.

As the door clicked open and I slid our intertwined bodies inside, I knew without a doubt that was what this was.

Just lust was gone, like had grown, and love was positioned in Georgia’s sumptuous mouth—right at the tip of my tongue.





“Just three more questions,” Kline demanded, his voice raspy and sleep-filled.

We’d been at this game all night. Asking random questions to one another in between bouts of kissing that always ended in more. Crazy, sexy kind of more.

Best game ever.

But it was half past three in the morning, and I had a six thirty-five flight to catch. A contract meeting was sending me home today, and because he’d tacked on an additional meeting tomorrow morning with one of our regular investors in the name of efficiency, today meant one day earlier than Kline. No need to make more than one trip, he’d said. Now we had to face the consequences of that decision.

I hadn’t packed a thing and needed a shower. As badly as I wanted to stay in bed, wrapped up in him, I had to get my ass moving.

I sat up, the sheet pooling around my waist. “You said that three hours and two orgasms ago.”

“Two orgasms? I thought it was three…” He was lying on his belly, resting his chin on the pillow, his eyes locked on my bared breasts. “If you can’t remember the last one, I’m demanding a re-do.”

A re-do. The bastard.

He licked his lips and moved his gaze from my breasts, to my waist, until finally making the slow circuit to my mouth.

Jesus. Kline flashing me smoldering glances during business meetings was dangerous enough, but this? That look. Those heated blue eyes. His sexy, bedhead hair. And that tight ass. It should be illegal.

“Stop smoldering at me!” I smacked his shoulder. “I have to get in the shower. I have a flight to catch, remember?”