Bidding on the Billionaire (6 page)

She ran her finger around one of the buttons on his shirt. “The woman who cheated on you.”

Something flashed across his features, but his expression went impassive again before she grasped what the emotion had been.

“Mmm. I found out she wanted what every woman I've dated seems to want.”

“The money.” She laid a hand against his chest. She may not understand this specific pain, but she knew what it meant to be used. “I'm sorry.”

He made a noncommittal grunt in the back of his throat. “Since the breakup, I haven't dated. I guess you could say I've lost my desire to do so. I didn't plan what developed between you and me. You had such strong opinions of the book that I enjoyed challenging you.”

She couldn't help smiling. “So did I.”

He rubbed slow, soothing circles over her back. “I didn't expect to like you or for this to lead where it did. So, no worries, babe. You're it for me.”

His quiet admission relaxed the last of her nerves. They had a lot in common. They'd both arrived at the same place in their lives, both needing a connection but not wanting the heartache that came with relationships. Staring at him, he no longer seemed a stranger anymore, but the man she'd come to know over the last few months. Whose words on a computer screen could light up her whole day.

His earlier words filled her mind. Before this went any further, she might as well know now. “You said you had secrets. Anything I should know?”

His gaze worked over her face, searching as if something weighed on him. Finally, he drew a breath and that vulnerability returned to his eyes. “Yes, but…not now.”

The smart girl who'd been hurt one time too many insisted she ought to know everything before she got involved with him. It was the anxiousness in the depths of his eyes, though, that told her she already knew. “It's painful.”

“Not quite like your accident, but it's not easy to talk about and it sends my head into places I don't want to go right now.” A ghost of a smile whispered across his mouth, humor flaring in his gaze. “I don't want to ruin the moment. I promise it's nothing bad, at least not for you. I will tell you. Just not now.”

She nodded, stroking a reassuring hand over his chest. “All right.”

Relief flooded his features and his body relaxed beneath her.

“Thank you. So…” He sat back, hands on her hips, and cocked a playful brow. “Any more demands, Miss Miller?”

Filled with a sense of freedom, she let go of her inhibitions and leaned forward, pressing her chest to his. “No, that's it. For now.”

“Good.” He caught her bottom lip in his teeth, then soothed the soft bite with a stroke of his tongue. His voice lowered to a husky murmur between them. “Now tell me what you want. Did you notice the bed?”

She turned, following his gaze. Double doors leading to the bedroom stood open, revealing a huge behemoth of a bed, decorated with no less than six pillows and a fluffy quilt. The gorgeous, four-poster bed lined the wall, deep mahogany in color with a carved wooden frame.

Cade leaned forward, his voice a low, sexy rumble in her ear. “I booked this room on purpose. At some point, I'm going to tie you to it and show you what I meant about restraints. There's also a fantastic tub I want to get you in at some point. For now, however, I've decided to let you lead.”

She braced her hands against his chest and pushed upright.

“We'll negotiate the bed later. For starters, I want this shirt off. I want to see the rest of your tattoo.” She slid off his lap and moved to the small, overstuffed chair, catty-corner to the couch. She shifted the chair, turning it to face the couch, and sat.

Hands already making quick work of the buttons on his shirt, he shifted forward, as if he were about to get up.

Hannah shook her head and held up a hand. “Uh-uh. Stay. I want to watch.”

Cade's fingers paused over the next button. He stared for a moment before comprehension dawned across his face. He sank back into the couch cushions with a groan. “Baby, I didn't come all the way out here to touch myself. I can stay home and do that.”

She arched a brow. “You recall me telling you my biggest fantasy?”

He let out a frustrated growl. “I've tried several times to fulfill it, but you wouldn't ever let me see you.”

She smiled again. “Take off your shirt, Cade.”

“You're a bossy little thing.” He grinned but freed another button. “What happened to shy Hannah?”

Her smile fell, the playful pretense for a moment forgotten. The air of seriousness returned as unease rose over her. “I feel comfortable with you. I hadn't expected it, all things considered, but I do.”

He returned her smile, this one soft and understanding. “Me too.”

A sense of mutual respect passed between them, tender and hot at the same time. Cade had become her friend, her lover. His smile told her he shared the sentiment.

She craved that about their exchanges, about him, the most. It had never been just sex, but something more. They shared a connection. Something about him warmed her insides. He seemed familiar and something in her always melted beneath the power of it. She couldn't put a name to the emotion. She refused to ponder it, but for tonight at least, she'd give in. She needed him too much. Tonight, she wanted to feel like a woman, desired and beautiful.

He grinned, once again playful and mischievous, and nodded in her direction. “If I have to get naked, so do you. Shirt. Off. I want to see you.”

The heat flaring in his gaze made her obey, but it didn't escape her notice that he hadn't asked. He'd demanded.

The corners of her mouth twitched with her effort to hold back a grin. “You're used to getting your way, aren't you?”

Two buttons down, his fingers once again halted. He grinned, his eyes glittering with playful impishness. “Yes, ma'am. Now do as you're told and take off your shirt.”

Unable to resist the playful tease, she gripped the hem of her shirt and lifted it enough to reveal her belly, then arched a brow at him. “You first.”

He made quick work of the rest of the buttons, pulled his shirt out from beneath the waistband of his slacks, and shrugged out of it, then balled it and tossed it at her. It landed on her feet with a soft swish of fabric, still warm from the heat of his body.

“Ball's in your court now, baby.” He sat back, folding his hands over his bare stomach. A nice flat stomach dusted with a smattering of dark hair. She preferred guys who looked like men, not little boys, but who also didn't resemble wildebeests. Cade had just the right amount covering his well-defined pecs. Her fingers itched to dive into the dark curls.

Her gaze shifted, falling to his tattoo. A black snakelike dragon ran from his shoulder to the middle of his forearm. Classy and simple, nothing garish, but it made a bold statement. Unable to help herself, she rose from her seat and moved to stand beside the couch.

“I like this.” She followed the dragon's body with the tip of a finger as it wound its way up his arm.

He glanced at his shoulder and shrugged. “Call it an act of rebellion. It goes with that story I'll tell you sometime. I got it when I turned eighteen. It pissed off my father. My parents have certain expectations for my sister and I. Everything we've ever done has been dictated to us, and I wanted to unseat the old man.”

He'd mentioned a sister before. She looked up, finger pausing on a stroke over the dragon's serpentlike tongue. “You have a sister?”

“Mmm. I'm a twin, though she's fond of telling people she's older.” The corners of his mouth twitched, amusement filling his gaze.

“Does she look like you?” She shouldn't have asked him that, but the mention of his family reminded her how much she didn't know about him, other than what she'd gleaned online. They didn't talk about this side of themselves. She was about to become intimate with a man whose words could make her come so hard she lost her breath, but she didn't know his family or his life. His innocent sharing filled her with a dangerous yearning to know more. She ached to learn about his world, to see the
man
.

“We look like siblings. I'm told she looks like a smaller, feminine version of me.” He reached over, fingering the hem of her shirt. “I don't want to talk about my sister. I want to talk about you taking this off.”

He cocked a brow and waited, but her nerves were getting the best of her. Truth was, she'd stalled on purpose. What could she tell him? Despite having been the one to initiate this, the thought of baring her not-so-perfect body still made her stomach churn. Having to stand in front of him and watch his every reaction made her limbs shake. She had a running nightmare she'd make a dork out of herself and get stuck in her shirt. Or she'd take it off and have to watch the revulsion rise in his eyes.

He dropped his head against the back of the couch.

“I'm hanging on a thread, baby. I'm about three seconds from standing up and taking it off myself.” Despite the playful threat, he spoke softly, his fingers wandering beneath the hem of her shirt, stroking over her trembling belly. “For months I've had nothing but my imagination to go by. Here you are in front of me. I
need
to see you. All of you.”

The hunger in his eyes encouraged her. She let it fuel her own hunger and gripped the hem of her shirt, pulling it off over her head. She dropped it to the floor, then did the same with her tank top. Wearing only her bra, she waited, heart going gangbusters in her throat.

Cade growled low as he slid his hand up her belly. His fingers grazed the underside of her left breast, encased in the red, lacy bra. His hot gaze trapped her, an all-too-willing prisoner.

Feeling braver now, she shook her head and moved to the overstuffed chair but didn't take a seat. His gaze followed her every move as she unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her hips. She stepped out of them, pushing them aside with her foot, and stood before him in the matching bra and panties she'd bought for this date. A red number she'd hoped would match his tie. She was pleased to see it did.

Hands trembling, she let him look at her for a moment, then sat in the chair. Gaze locked on his, she leaned back and ran her hand down her stomach and over her lace-covered mound, rubbing herself through her panties. “Your turn.”

His chest rose and fell at an increasingly rapid pace, his hands visibly shaking as he undid his belt. He unzipped his slacks and reached inside, pulling out his cock, then sat back. Hannah licked her lips. He was beautiful, long and thick, the head stretching up his stomach to touch his belly button. She wasn't certain what she wanted more…to climb on his lap and sink onto him or take him in her mouth. The unbearable need to taste him warred with the fantasy they'd been playing out for too many months. To watch him stroke himself to orgasm. To get to watch his face when he came.

He wrapped his hand around the head and squeezed, eyes fluttering closed and mouth falling open in bliss. He stroked himself once, twice, then opened his heavy-lidded eyes again. “The rest. Please. I want to see all of you.”

Hannah bit her lower lip and did as he asked, unable to stop her gaze from soaking in the sight he made. She had to admit it. Watching him sitting there, gaze locked on her, filled her with a sense of power. Cade McKenzie had a beautiful body, every inch of him lean and sculpted. For tonight at least, he was all hers.

She tossed her bra to the floor and massaged her breasts, caressing them and pinching the nipples, then moved to her panties. She teased him, pulled them halfway down, then back up, before turning her back to him and bending over as she pushed them down her legs. She wiggled her backside at him then turned back around and took a seat in the chair.

Cade banged his head against the back of the couch. The tendons in his neck strained. His jaw tightened. His hand stroked his cock slow but steady. “Christ, you're killing me.
Please
. I'm
dying
to touch you.”

She shook her head, and he let out another growl, this one loud and frustrated. His hand squeezed his cock, the head purple and swollen. Her effect on him filled her with an addicting sense of power. She had the sense right then she could do anything. No man had ever looked at her with that much desire or begged her in such a desperate way. It might be cruel to make him sit and watch. He was right. She hadn't met him here so she could touch herself. By God, she had to prolong this as much as possible. The expression on his face filled her with an unparalleled sense of being beautiful and powerful.

Maybe, though, the time had come to let him off the hook and be honest.

“It's addicting.” Soaking in the sight of him, letting it fuel her desire and her bravery, she slid her fingers down her slit, swiping her index finger over her clit. One stroke sent a heady rush shuddering through her. She gasped, her back arching off the chair. “Watching you. God, Cade, I'm so aroused. Sitting here, knowing I do that to you. Nobody's ever looked at me the way you are right now. Like I'm…”

She shook her head, letting the words drift off. Embarrassment heated her cheeks, and she averted her gaze, focusing on the movement of his hand. She couldn't say the words.

“Beautiful.” He growled the words, his voice thick and strained. “You're fucking beautiful. Anybody who tells you otherwise is an asshole who doesn't deserve you anyway. Spread your legs, baby. Let me see.”

Another rush of heat raced up her neck. She had to be red as a tomato, but she did as he asked and spread her thighs, opening herself to his hot gaze. She had a feeling of being made of glass, wide open before him, and as vulnerable as a newborn baby. She'd never done this either, touched herself while a lover watched.

His eyes slid to half-mast, their heat burning through her. “I want to bury my face between your thighs. Do you know how torturous this is? Dip your fingers inside and taste yourself. Tell me what you taste like, baby. Tell me what I'm missing.”