Heat Exchange (The Alpha Billionaire's Virgin Book 1) (6 page)

"Hi," she said shyly. "Your intercom's broken."

He didn't smile back, which was a little surprising. Just looked her up and down, from her hair in its ponytail to her cardigan and skirt and ankle boots.

"You're on time," he said.

Oh wow, she'd forgotten that voice. Janey felt her legs tremble. No wonder the man did so much business over the phone. That voice could negotiate
anything
.

Her nervousness increased.

"I'm usually way too early for things," she said chattily. "For events of course because a late caterer is an out-of-business caterer and also when it's something I've been looking forward to for a long time like this." She couldn't help it; the words ran together in a rush.

His lips did curve then. He spotted her three bulging totes and picked up two of them.

"I've got a lot of stuff," she said. "Three more bags in the van."

"Three
more
? You drove your company van here?"

She shrugged. "Since we'll be doing so much cooking, I thought I'd bring over some supplies.
Plus, well, it's my only car. Normal people don't have more than one car. Even if we can afford it, there's no parking." The words came out all wrong. Her nervousness had to be obvious. Janey cringed; this was surely where he told her he'd made a mistake offering to devirginize a freak and sent her straight home.

"Right, whereas I lease an entire parking lot for all my dozens of vehicles instead of using spaces in the parking garage like all the rest of the peons." Her bags in hand, he led the way through the entryway door into the lobby. Janey looked around. It was sparkling and elegant but not what she'd call luxurious. She picked up the last tote and followed Nyall to the elevator.

"You're making fun of me about the cars, aren't you?"

"You make it hard not to," he said.

As they waited for the elevator, Janey couldn't help but make comparisons to that
other
time, in the lobby of the office building. This time, instead of the elevator indicator lights, it was her he watched. When the doors opened, he waited for her to go in first. And when they were alone in the elevator, he looked at her sardonically.

She saw he'd selected the button to the fourth floor.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Janey said.

His brow lifted.

"I guess it's wrong to hope that lightning strikes twice," she said, only half teasing.

That
brought out the amusement she remembered. "Have you developed a fetish for elevators now, Janey?"

"I told you already I had one," she joked, just as the doors opened, then blabbered on as she followed him down the hallway. "So are these condos or apartments?"

"Condos."

"This is really where you live?"

"Sometimes. Why, where did you think I lived?"

"I don't know. A big mansion with a butler. But what do you mean, sometimes?"

He set down the totes and fished out his key. "I also keep an apartment near the airport, a house on Long Beach, a chalet in France
—" he shot her a sidelong look there "—
and a place in Sacramento."

None of those really surprised her except the last. "
Sacramento
?"

"My family's there." The door swung wide and he held it open, gesturing. "Come on in."

Hastily she stepped inside, then set down the tote and looked around.

The door clicked shut quietly behind her.

She absorbed the bare floors, spare furnishings and the brown and gold color scheme in a glance. The windows were impressive enough that she could imagine how much light came in during the day. The layout was open and quite spacious, almost lobby-like, with entryways instead of halls and doorways. "This is very ni—"

And she was spun around and backed up smack against the door.

"Oh," she managed before Nyall's mouth settled onto her lips.

That was stunning, and not just the unexpectedness of it. Even she could tell that the kiss, though soft and gentle, was extremely carnal. His body crowded her, heated her, and in so doing managed to coalesce all the passion that had been gathering in her over weeks of restless nights and lust-fogged days into a sudden feverish urgency.

Not knowing what else to do, Janey kissed him back. Not knowing quite the best way to do it, she puckered her mouth. He held her head with his hands and, stroking her scalp, brushed her lips with his, over and over.

"Nyall?" She broke away. "Are we going to—"

Cutting her off without a word, he sucked on her lower lip. Abruptly, between her legs the ache that hadn't really gone away since meeting him burgeoned. Before she was aware of doing it, Janey heard the sound of her own whimper.

His mouth left hers and wandered to her jaw. "Oh, Janey," he whispered, his breath warm against her cheek. "I was going to wait, but that's not happening."

Janey suddenly noticed how hard his body felt pressed against her, his chest, abdomen, and hips like steel. Including the hard bar poking into her belly.

There was no mistaking what it wa
s—his co
ck
.
It was aroused. At the evidence that he wanted her, what had been heat and excitement now became so much more that Janey almost did what all the old-fashioned movies and novels told about.

Don't do it. Don't swoon.

But she didn't really have any choice about things. She took in deep, sucking breaths to get enough oxygen to all the parts that needed it to stay upright.
Just like a classic fainting maiden.

"Easy," he said. "Take it easy."

Janey didn't know if he thought he was relaxing her when he started pressing little kisses at the base of her throat. All it did was make her nipples feel too tight and her thighs feel hot and an ache start deep inside.

"I like your skin," he said softly. "I've been thinking about touching it for weeks. All of it, not just your pussy. But that, too."

Janey shuddered. Between his embrace, his caresses, and his words, she was in over her head. A tormenting sensation pinched her between her legs. It made her feel both great and terrible at the same time, making her squirm with discomfort.

"Nyall, please," she said miserably. "What do I do?"

"What you're doing is fine." His hands cupped her bottom, lifting her up off the floor, grinding her against his erection.

Her arms and legs wrapped around him instinctively.

A moment later she felt a cool draft through her black tights. A part of her brain that was somehow still functioning told Janey her skirt had been hiked up. Without her feet safely planted on the ground, there was an odd feeling of weightlessness and vulnerability. His palm skimmed into the waistband of her tights and found her naked bottom.

"I don't feel fine," she said. "I want you and it hurts."

"Janey," he breathed. "Did you pleasure yourself like you said you were going to?"

"Once. But I didn't much care for it. It was super disappointing. I guess I should have tried again because I haven't been sleeping too well."

"So basically," he said shakily, "you've been in heat this whole time."

"Is that bad?"

"Only because I could have helped you if I'd known."

Janey felt herself pressed harder against the door. His mouth moved urgently on the skin of her shoulder, nuzzling aside the stretchy camisole and cardigan.

"If I'd known, I'd have come over and played with you," he told her. "Every night."

"Y-you'd have done that?"

"Sure. You have no idea how sweet you are."

"Please," she said abruptly. "Please."

"I wonder how wet you are tonight." One finger explored her valley from behind. "Ah, Janey. You should have called me. You're like a bomb about to go off." Between her legs there was a sudden stabbing pressure. The pain made her flinch.

"Easy," he said. "I'm trying to get a finger inside you, but you're tight."

Janey had a moment of panic. Then his fingers left her entrance and moved lower, found her clit, squeezed delicately, and there was a burst of delight. Janey burrowed her face into his chest, knowing she was making a fool of herself but not able to stop panting.

"Nyall," she said. "Help."

"Janey, you're soaking," he said, his voice like rough velvet. "Come in my hand."

"Oh," she said again. She felt his fingers quicken. The feeling of agonizing constriction got worse and then suddenly a lot, lot better, and then it was happening, an eruption even more earth-shattering than she remembered.

In the next moment, Janey felt her entrance invaded again. His finger, it had to be. This time there was no pain. The spasms of her climax clenched on that finger moving in and out of her passage. The sensation was luscious, thrilling. Janey moaned.

"Do you like that, baby?"

To her embarrassment, she was unable to answer; voicing anything coherent was impossible in the midst of her orgasm.

"Tell me if you like that or if it still hurts."

She tried, but all she could do was mumble something inarticulate against his chest and clench on his finger.

"I think that means you like it." He sounded amused.

Janey felt dizzy as the world shifted. Her eyes opened and she realized he was carrying her across the floor as easily as he'd carry a ten-pound sack of potatoes. All with her legs and arms wrapped around him and his hand never stopping its activity between her legs.

"Don't drop me!" she blurted.

He laughed, his supporting hand still caressing. There was another burst of pleasure. Another climax. If he would just stop teasing her and pushing that finger inside her for a moment, she thought dimly, maybe she could stop coming. But he didn't. Not until she felt herself fall gently backward onto something soft.

She blinked. A bed.

His bed.

He moved away and a moment later light flooded the room.

She felt him lift her head, tug on her ponytail, and then a tingling in her scalp as he spread her hair out loosely.

"I'm going to undress you below the waist now," he told her.

The words were probably meant to reassure her. She certainly wasn't as panicked as before, her body now mellow, pulsing with lovely ripply sensations. But her eyes became saucers as Nyall knelt in front of the bed, removed her boots, unzipped and shoved off her skirt and peeled down her tights and panties to her ankles.

He looked down at her body, her belly, thighs, and pussy. She saw that his sensual mouth was flattened and his chest was moving up and down rapidly. He seemed tense. "I've been imagining seeing you like this for weeks."

Janey's shyness was almost painful right now.

"Am I okay?" she said. "Is it…is everything normal?" She blushed then, knowing what a silly question it must be.

For a moment he stilled, then he looked into her eyes. "You're exquisite," he said. "What's going on in that head of yours? More crap about being out of my league?"

"Uh…"

Then his hands were parting her legs. "If you're a virgin, Janey, it's because you want to be. There's nothing fucking wrong with you." His fingers opened her up and he surveyed her with visible appreciation. One finger drew a circle around her clit. "Come for me some more," he said. "Enjoy the release. You can come all you want now we're together."

She flushed at his words. Not that she could refuse to come even if she wanted to—she didn't seem to have any control over that when he touched her. But he said it so casually, as if inviting her to help herself to an all-you-can-eat buffet.

"I, um, well, okay. Thank you, I will," she said politely.

He chuckled. She felt his fingers pluck her intimately and started to gasp. Soon it was happening again. She closed her eyes and knew her body was going to go out of control soon.

She was more right than she knew. Not only did the happy sensations cascade through her without any effort or will on her part, but lying down like this seemed to have freed her body.

It went wild, twisting and writhing the way it had so desperately wanted to when he'd fondled her in the elevator and she couldn't let herself go because of the camera.

"
Fuck
, Janey. Come again like that."

She opened her eyes to see him stretched out next to her on the bed on his side, his hand lodged between her thighs. His eyes were almost black.

"What?" She was dazed.

"I want to see you come again like that. And again."

And his hand moved almost roughly against her.

"Uh…" Her body arched, twisted, as another orgasm ripped through her. She reached out, needing to hold onto something, finding him and rolling toward him. He pushed her gently back down.

"No, sweetheart. If you touch me, I'm toast. You're fucking beautiful when you come. Those security guys are probably having a field day with that footage."

"Nyall…"

He shoved a long finger all the way to the hilt up inside her. She made a noise somewhere between a moan and a scream. His face shadowed the light and then he was kissing her hungrily while his hand fucked her. Janey lost herself to the thrusting of her hips, the feel of sweet convulsions, the pleasure of moaning into his mouth.

By the time she returned to the world of sanity, she was coated in sweat and her own stickiness. Her breathing had finally calmed. Her body was relaxed and totally, deliciously satisfied. And Nyall…

She looked across the bed and found him lying on his back. He'd bared his chest, the sweater and undershirt discarded on the floor where her tights and panties had also fallen. His jeans were unzipped. His hands were cupped over his crotch, and he looked…rough. A fine sheen of moisture coated his skin. His eyes were shut tight.

"Are you okay?"

He opened his eyes and curved his lips in an imitation of a smile. "Give me a minute."

"What's wrong?"

But she could see what was wrong. Down by his hips, his hands were palming the length of his shaft, which pressed hugely against his briefs.
Oh, my.

"Are you frustrated?" she asked idiotically.

He gave a short laugh, gave one last hard stroke and flung his fisted arms out to his sides. "Mm."