The Billionaire’s Secret Heart (A 'Scandals of the Bad Boy Billionaires' Romance) (5 page)

T
he doorbell rang
, and I prayed Emily was right. When she was finished with my makeup and putting product in my hair, I looked pretty good, but I definitely wasn't glamorous. For one thing, the jeans and batwing shirt were flattering, but I was not skinny like all those girls at Mana. Though Holden had seemed to like my curves.

Telling myself to stop obsessing, I went to answer the door. Emily was nowhere to be seen. I'm sure she wanted to check Holden out, but she was so shy, she tended to avoid meeting new people if at all possible, even when they were as hot as Holden Winters.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I unlocked the door and pulled it open. Holden stood there in the same jeans he'd worn that afternoon and an untucked blue button-down shirt. As always seemed to happen when I looked at him, I temporarily lost the power of speech. He stared down at me, then said, "Are you ready to go?"

I nodded and turned to grab my purse and keys from beside the door. Holden took my arm with his, leading me down the hall to the elevator.

"I thought I'd cook you dinner at my place," he said. "But if you'd rather go out, we can do that too."

"No," I said, "dinner at your place sounds good." His arm tucked through mine, and the heat of his body beside me brought back vivid memories of all the things he'd done to me at his place. I was more than happy to go back there. I wondered for a second if he would think I was too easy.

"I promise," he said, "I won't ravage you until after dessert."

"You don't have to wait that long," I said with a laugh, deciding I didn't really care if he thought I was easy. I'd slept with him the first night we met, and not only couldn't I take that back, but I didn't want to. There was nothing I regretted about the night before except running out on him after I'd woken up.

"Well," he said, dipping his head to bite the side of my neck as the elevator doors closed, "Maybe I'll ravage you once before dessert. Or between courses."

I shivered.

"We can play it by ear," I said, smiling inwardly and wishing we were already at his place.

As we left the building, he said, "It's a nice night, so I walked over. I hope you don't mind."

"No. I like walking." I did, and it was a perfect spring night—cool, but not cold, the warmth of the afternoon lingering in the air. Around us, people strolled, heading out to dinner or just enjoying the evening. With my arm tucked through Holden's, I was mostly oblivious to everyone else. He held me close, his touch teasing my body.

It had been a long, long time since I'd had sex before Holden, and my body wanted more. Not just more orgasms, but more Holden. No man had ever made me feel this way, so instantly hot, so seduced with just a touch. Interrupting my thoughts, he said,

"Did you have a good afternoon?"

I considered. "Yes and no," I said honestly. "Seeing you was good. The lab was not. We can't figure out why our project isn't working, and I have a bad feeling the problem is my code. I've been over it and over it, but I can't spot the bug."

"Can you tell me what you're working on?"

It was a reasonable question. There were projects that were confidential. If he ran WGC, he knew all about confidential tech. As Emily had mentioned, they were currently working on two projects that the gaming world would love to know about.

"I can, a little." Trying not to bore him to death, I explained about the spatial mapping glasses and helping the blind navigate without a cane.

"How does the phone communicate obstacles?" Holden asked, sounding interested.

"Right now, we're working on a kind of Morse code in vibrations. We've got a consult from linguistics helping us work out the best way to communicate non-verbally."

"Very cool," he said. "How do you know the problem is your code?"

"I don't. It could be the hardware. But the issue is in the connection between the glasses and the phone. We're using Bluetooth, and I wrote that part of the app. We can't get it to connect. Of all the problems . . ." I shook my head in frustration.

"I know. I always get more pissed when the bug is something basic. How many times do you connect with Bluetooth?"

"Exactly," I said, gratified that he got why I was so pissed. "My headphones link up automatically. It should be the spatial mapping causing the problem, not the Bluetooth. We're going to connect a phone with hardwire so we can work on that while I try to debug the app."

I was surprised to realize we were already at Holden's building. Of all the things I'd imagined for our date, a conversation about my work hadn't been one of them. I realized I was a little shallow, expecting that someone as hot and rich as Holden wouldn't have a brain. Given that he owned and ran both a successful nightclub and a gaming company, I should have known better. I watched him do the palm print thing to get the elevator working and said, "I'm guessing you don't have many uninvited guests."

"No, not many. Unless they're family. They show up uninvited all the time."

Guilt hit me as we entered his apartment. I'd looked him up, talked about him with Emily, and now I knew all these personal things about him. It felt invasive and wrong. Suddenly uncomfortable, I stepped away from him and blurted out, "Emily told me who you are. I mean, about your family, and that you own the club and WGC."

Holden shrugged, his mouth tight. "I was going to tell you," he said. "It's not a secret."

"I wasn't trying to pry." Holden looked so uncomfortable, I felt terrible for saying anything. "I'm sorry about your family." I had to stop talking without thinking. I worried that I'd made things worse, but his mouth softened and he said,

"It was a long time ago."

"I'm still sorry."

"So am I. But the rest of my family is pretty tight. We got through it."

I wondered if you could ever really get over such loss, but I managed to keep my mouth shut. Mostly. "I'm sorry I brought it up," I said, "But I didn't like knowing that much about you and not saying anything."

I trailed off when he took my hand and pulled me to him, wrapping his strong arms around my waist as he studied my face with warm, serious eyes.

"You're not like any woman I've dated before," he said. "The women I know would be trying to play me, and you're honest to a fault."

I opened my mouth to say something—I had no idea what, but probably something embarrassing. Holden saved me from myself. His mouth came down on mine, his lips pressing in a gentle kiss before his tongue flicked out, tasting me. My body caught fire. Without thinking, I pressed closer, parting my legs a little, feeling his cock swell behind his jeans.

I reached out my tongue to touch his. The instant we connected, the kiss exploded. His arms tightened, drawing me hard against him. His mouth was hungry, moving against mine in a kiss so blatantly possessive, so claiming, it would have hurt if it hadn't felt so perfect. Just as I was getting my bearings, Holden lifted me. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around his hips as he carried me to his kitchen.

"I've been staring at my island all day, wishing I'd done this last night." He set me down on the hard surface and said, "Unbutton your jeans."

At his order and the thrill of his hot, dark eyes on me, a rush of wet heat hit between my legs. Normally, I didn't like being told what to do, but when Holden got bossy with me, I loved it. With shaking hands, I unsnapped my jeans. Sitting on the counter, it was impossible to push them down, but I slowly lowered the zipper, loving the way his eyes flared at the rasp of metal. I hooked my thumbs at the waist and waited. I wasn't disappointed.

"Lay back and slide off your jeans," Holden ordered, his voice rough.

I did as he commanded, the marble deliciously cool against my heated skin. Staring up at the high ceiling of Holden's kitchen, I wiggled my hips and pushed both my jeans and my underwear down. When they were far enough, I let gravity do the work, kicking my feet a few times until the fabric hit the floor in a soft thump. I waited, the tension in my belly winding tighter. He was silent, unmoving, and I started to feel exposed.

"Now your shirt. Take it all off."

In my head, I stripped off my shirt and bra in a sexy, graceful tease. I think reality was more of a rushed fumble, but I didn't care. I wanted to be naked for Holden. I needed whatever was going to come next.

Again, he fell silent, and I waited, feeling my pussy getting wetter, my bare nipples drawing tighter, my entire body readying for him. When I felt a finger land on the inside of my right knee, tracing a line up to my pussy, I knew what to do.

With a moan that was half-anticipation and half-pleasure, I opened my legs. The stroke of his tongue, following the path of his finger, was a decadent torture. He was close, so close, to touching me where I needed him the most. I opened my legs wider, inviting him in. He didn't make me wait. His tongue came down flat on my clit, tasting, pressing, dragging a high-pitched sound from my throat.

I'd never really had a man's mouth there before. Not like this. Not one who knew what he was doing. Holden wasn't going to take another lick and move away, saying it tasted funny, or it was his turn. No, Holden was going to put his mouth between my legs and eat me until I came. Just the thought of it cranked the tension inside me a notch tighter.

He traced a finger around my wet, slippery core, murmuring, "So sweet. You have the sweetest pussy, Josephine. I have to taste you before I fuck you."

No argument from me. I think I whispered, "Please, Holden," before he sucked my clit into his mouth and drove one finger inside me. His finger didn't stretch me like his cock, but it was enough to make me feel full, so full. His mouth moved on me, sucking, licking, as he added another finger. I squirmed, wanting to thrust against him, wanting his cock, wanting to more.

He teased me, reading my body, understanding my responses better than I did. Again and again, he brought me right to the edge, leaving me gasping and begging, before backing off. He lifted his head from between my legs, only once, to say,

"Play with your nipples, Josephine."

I'd never touched myself in front of a man before, but there was no way I was going to say no to Holden. Lifting a trembling hand from the cool marble, I traced my fingertips around my tight nipples, shivering at the sweet spark of pleasure.

His tongue licked at me, pressing into my swollen clit, giving me just the right pressure. My hips surged up to his mouth and my fingers pinched, my body falling out of my control and under Holden's.

The orgasm tore through me, and my pussy clamped down on Holden's fingers. He fucked me with them harder, sucking at my clit in strong pulls, dragging out the waves of pleasure until I couldn't breathe.

When I came back to myself, Holden was sitting on one of the stools beside the island, cradling me in his arms. I was dazed from coming so hard, and I lifted my face to him, instinctively seeking his touch. I tasted myself on his lips. Any other time, I would have thought it weird, but at that moment, it felt perfect.

"I really did mean to feed you first," he said when he lifted his head from mine.

"I'd rather you fuck me," I said. Not that I hadn't just had the orgasm of a lifetime, but I could feel his hard cock beneath my ass, and I wanted it inside me. I knew he wanted it too.

"If you insist."

Holden carried me to his bedroom, laid me gently on the sheets, and grabbed a condom from his bedside table. He was naked a second later and between my legs, pressing his thick cock inside my swollen pussy a second after that. I'd thought his fingers had filled me, but nothing was like his cock. The stretch was so much, it was almost pain, and I loved it. I clung to his hips with my thighs and moved into him with every thrust, my fingers clamped on his shoulders.

He didn't last long, but I didn't need him to. I was coming again after only a few minutes, gasping his name as I went wild beneath him. He gave into his orgasm, groaning, "Josephine," then collapsed half on top of me, breathing hard. He rolled over, pulling me with him so I was draped over his chest, his fingertips stroking my back in lazy circles.

Eventually, he said, "If we keep fucking like this, we might kill ourselves. Or starve to death."

"Then let's eat dinner before we have sex again," I said. "Just in case."

"Deal."

We lay there a few more minutes, which was a good thing, because I think every muscle in my body was too relaxed to move. I had no idea sex like that even existed, much less had I ever done it multiple times in twenty-four hours. It seemed impossible that exactly a day ago, I was driving Stuart to dinner for our doomed blind date. As awful as that date had been, this date with Holden was winning for the best date in the universe.

Nothing that came after was a letdown. When we finally got up, he cooked an amazing dinner of grilled salmon, asparagus, and apple tarts, though he confessed that it was one of the few dishes he could make and he'd bought the tarts at the bakery down the street. I didn't care. The effort he made called to my heart.

After we ate, we sprawled on his couch to watch a movie, though that lasted fewer than five minutes before I slid to my knees between his legs and sucked his cock. Holden's cock was the first I'd truly wanted in my mouth, and ever since he'd laid me out on the island, I'd been wondering what he would taste like on my tongue. The answer was that he tasted magnificent, salty and male and perfect. I wanted him to come in my mouth, but Holden had other ideas, and before I knew it, he was fucking me again. I didn't complain.

I spent the night, and this time, when I woke, I didn't sneak out. I had a lecture first thing, and I had to get home to change, but I woke Holden before I left. His dark eyes blinked open when I said his name, his arms coming up to pull me on top of him, his sleep-heavy voice whispering, "Josephine." I kissed him longer than I should have before I pulled free.

"I'll call you later," he mumbled into his pillow when I finally went to leave. I leaned down to give him one last kiss on his closed eyelids before racing out the door to class. The weekend had started with a disaster, but it had ended in a dream.