My Italian Billionaire: A BWWM Italian Billionaire Romance (9 page)

Just can't learn from my mistakes.

Which was why he was trying to be just an ordinary guy to Megan. Let her get to know him and his personality first and see if they could build something together.

But can she really get to know me if she doesn't know that side of me?
That was the question.

His head was starting to hurt from just thinking about all of this.

Now… what to do for the rest of the day? There was a meeting going on that afternoon he should attend, much as Mr. Valet would object, so he returned to the office. The elevator carried him up to the top floor and his father's office. It felt strange to walk inside it without his father's formidable figure sitting behind the grand desk, but no one would think to look for him here.

Until the meeting started, he researched different catering companies. Finding testimonials that they hadn't picked for themselves turned into a time-sucking venture, and he didn't have any time to try and find chef or cook openings in the city for Megan, not if he wanted to get to the meeting on time.

All meeting long, Lucca found himself thinking about Megan. There had to be something he could do, a means of helping her. What good was having all of this money if he couldn't use it to help those he cared about?

As much as he hated himself for it, this last time when he had been with Megan, his father's stipulation kept springing to mind. He didn't want to have to feel pressure to find a wife. He wanted to enjoy his time with Megan. If she wasn't who he hoped she was, he at least wanted to have fun with her up until that point. Money did crazy things to people, mostly not good crazy things.

Once the meeting concluded, Lucca tracked down Cindy. His secretary looked at him expectantly. "How can I help you, sir?"

"I need you to make up a list of all of the four- and five-star restaurants within a twenty-block radius of this address." He jotted down Megan's address and handed it to her.

"Restaurants, sir? Do you mean caterers?"

"A second list for caterers, if you would," he said, "and you can widen that search to any business that would be willing to deliver their food here."

For convenience purposes, they had their annual fundraiser here at the company, so that prospective investors could tour the building if they so wished.

"Could I have the lists first thing in the morning?" he asked.

"Of course. Anything else?"

"That's all. Thank you, Cindy."

She nodded and walked out.

That settled, Lucca called several branches to ensure he knew of any problems or developments that had arisen since he last contacted them. Employees worked harder for a visible boss, even if he was only visible via skype or over a phone line. Everything seemed to be doing well.

If only his future in the company didn't rest on his love life. One way or another, he would marry before his birthday, whether the woman he wed turned out to be Megan or if he had to settle for one of his past flames. All he had worked for over the years wouldn't go for naught.

Sleep didn't come easy to him that night. He dreamed of Megan, which was pleasant even wonderful at first, but then she morphed into Olivia. Gasping, he'd woken up only to fall asleep again. This time, Megan was his wife, and she wasn't happy at all to hear about another business trip, one he would be making alone. To stop her from complaining, he opened his wallet and tossed a credit card at her. A part of him hoped she would throw it right back at him, but she had accepted it easily and stopped whining.

Megan wasn't really like that, was she? She was obviously down on her luck at the moment, but she wouldn't sell herself out to get money. At least he didn't think so.

As soon as he walked into his office, he spied the lists Cindy had compiled for him. Immediately, he called each restaurant to see who was hiring. By eleven o'clock, he'd made his way down to the bottom of the list. He gathered his papers, left the office, and hurried to the cafeteria. He'd left his ingredients there for lunch. Whistling, he carried two bags to Megan's.

The door was ajar, and he kicked it open.

"Lucca?" she called from the bathroom.

"It's me." He closed the door and placed his bags on the kitchen counter.

She appeared in the doorway, wearing only a towel. "You're early. I was hoping to be dressed before you got here."

His gaze devoured her. Water beads clung to her shoulders and the tops of her ample breasts. One slicked down her cleavage, and his cock twitched.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, his voice low and deep.

"Always," she said, breathing hard, her breasts heaving above the towel.

"For food or…"

"You."

All he needed to hear. In two long strides, he marched over to her and ripped the towel away. It fell to the ground. His lips attacked hers then moved to her neck, sucking and licking, and lower to her breast and the other nipple, down her stomach. Her skin was so soft, so smooth. She smelled of her strawberry wash, and it only served to increase his arousal.

He bent down and picked up the towel. Once he had it around her back, he yanked her closer to him, his leg forcing hers apart, and he rubbed himself through his pants against her. His cock twitched, so hard for her already.

She moaned into his mouth, and his cock tightened all the more. He shifted the towel ends so they were both in one hand and reached for his wallet. Flicking it open, he frowned and gnashed his teeth.

"What's wrong?" she cooed in between nuzzling and kissing his chest as her fingers worked to unbutton his shirt.

"I forgot to grab condoms."

"Condoms?" Her eyes lit up. "No condom?"

"None." His cock stiffened in protest. He wanted her. Badly.

She rubbed herself against him, and he groaned. How could this have happened? The woman distracted him far too much, and now he wouldn't even be able to satisfy them both.

"Do you have any?" he hoped.

"No." But she didn't look upset. "There's still plenty we can do without one." She tugged on his hand and pulled him out of the kitchen to her small makeshift dining room. Her small feet stepped over the towel—he'd dropped it accidentally—and she stripped off his clothes and pressed a hand to his chest to force him onto a chair. With her finger, she gestured for him to sit as if ready for a meal at the table, and he did so, his cock quivering with anticipation.

Then she disappeared from view. He blinked. What was she up to?

Soft hands touched his knees and slid up in small circles, eventually come nearer and nearer to his cock. Lucca sucked in a breath and fought with the urge to reach beneath the table and force her to touch him where he most wanted to be touched, to let her have control.

She only tortured him for another five minutes or so, more than long enough for some precum to drip free. God, she drove him crazy.

Her fingers brushed against his balls, and his cock jumped.

"Like that, did you?" Megan giggled as she did it again.

His cock tightened.

"Yes, you do. I know what you want." Her lips kissed the tip of his cock, and she licked his head, her tongue swirling around. Up and down, inch by inch, she shoved his fullness into her mouth, one hand stroking the portion of his long cock that didn't fit into her mouth, her other hand squeezing his balls gently.

Oh, God, this was heaven. Her mouth was so warm and wet and her sucking him was almost too much for him. If she kept this up much longer… Even for a few seconds more—

"I'm going to—"

She pulled his balls away from his body, and his urge to come subsided enough that he could tolerate her licking and kissing and sucking, oh, yes, could she suck, for a long while yet. Eventually, he knew the point of no return was coming.

"Megan, yes, oh, God… If you don't want to—"

"Come for me," she said around his cock, and the vibrations of her speech sent him over the edge. From his base, cum worked its way up, and he squirted into her mouth. She never stopped bobbing up and down, swallowing every drop, even swirled her tongue around the opening once he'd finished as if to ensure she got every last drop.

He closed his eyes, sitting back on the chair as she climbed out from beneath the table.

"See? Condoms aren't always necessary."

"God, I l—" He yanked on her hand and forced her out from underneath the table and onto his lap. His kiss ruined his declaration. A good thing, because how could he know that for certain? That he loved her? Yes, how she made him feel, he loved that, craved it, wanted it every day and every night, but that wasn't the same as loving her. The way she pleasured him…

Right now, it was her turn to be pleasured.

Cupping his hands on her fine ass, he stood and placed her on the table. His large hands pried her legs apart. Wetness dripped from her slick folds, but still he ran his fingers along her, wanting her arousal to increase even more. "So ready for me," he whispered.

"Yes." She whimpered, gyrating her hips.

"What do you want?" he asked. His fingers lazily teased her folds.

"For you to…"

"For me to what?"

Her pelvis buckled a few times, and he couldn't torture her any longer. He dove between her legs, licking and sucking on her clit.

"Gentle," she hissed, trying to pull away.

He eased up the pressure slightly, and she moved more easily beneath him, her face contorting with pleasure. Gradually, he licked faster, sucked harder, and she didn't complain again. When he shoved one, two, and then squeezed a third finger inside of her, he kept up the pressure on her clit.

"Oh. Oh!"

Her juices flowed, and he kept on fingering her, licking around his fingers as the juices squeezing by. She arched her back, and he didn't stop, didn't ever want to stop. Pleasuring her without receiving anything back made him feel invincible.

"Please," she moaned.

"Please what? Please you?"

"Yes…"

Lucca removed his fingers and groped for and found a large breast. He tugged on the nipple as his lips and tongue replaced his fingers, sliding around her folds, licking, sucking, and enjoying every quiver that jerked her body. Only after she came a second time did he stop.

"You're right," he said, and he wiped his mouth dry with the back of his hand, "condoms aren't always necessary."

She nodded, eyes closed, still lying on the table.

"You can stay there. I'm going to wash up and whip up some lunch."

Megan nodded again. When he reached the bathroom and looked over his shoulder at her to see she hadn't moved a muscle, eyes still closed, he laughed to himself.

He washed his hands and face and entered the kitchen. Anyone could heat up soup in the microwave, so he opted for a pot, dumped two chicken noodle soup cans into it, and turned the heat on medium.

Now for the grilled cheese.

Megan kept some butter on the counter, and he loved how easily warm butter spread. He buttered four slices of bread and shoved two thick slices of cheese between each. Oh, shouldn't he have preheated a pan? Guess he better do that now.

As he waited for the pan to warm, he stirred the soup. He didn't want it to be done well before the grilled cheese, so he turned it down some.

He held his hand above the preheating pan. Not that warm yet, but hey, the pan and the grilled cheese sandwiches could heat up together, right? He tossed them both on and had to fix the one because the top slice slid off.

A satisfied sigh came from the dining room, and he grinned, watching Megan stretch and stand. She smiled sexily at him and walked away. "I feel like I need another shower," she called.

"If you wait until after lunch, maybe I can join you."

"Mmm… I would like that, I think."

He snorted. "You think?"

She appeared in the doorway, and he almost frowned to see her in clothes. A simple black tank top and a dark miniskirt, but still, he loved looking at her dark skin.
My black warrior princess.

"Do you need any help?" she asked.

"Nope. You just relax." As he stirred the soup, his gaze followed her as she removed the tablecloth and replaced it with another one. Probably a good idea.

Oh, shouldn't he flip the grilled cheese? He did, although it was a major struggle to do so with both of them for some reason, and he winced at the burnt side staring up at him. Well, crap.

And since he'd turned down the soup, it wasn't heating any, so he knocked up the heat by two. How dark should he let the other side get? Too dark, and he might as well throw them out, but if it was too light, his gaff would look even worse, wouldn't it?

While he fiddled with the grilled cheese, the soup started to pop. Although he immediately turned down the heat, he realized the soup at the bottom was sticking to the pan. He scraped it off, and black noodle floated to the top.

Soup. He couldn't even heat up soup properly.

Her hands on his shoulders had him sighing. "I screwed up. Again."

"So try again."