The Boss and Her Billionaire (11 page)

Dylan if the ship had run aground. He covered her moist lips with his own, dipping his tongue in and out of her mouth, and she felt a soft whimper escape her throat.

Her skin heated. Her spine arched toward him. His hungry hands moved up her body, firmly outlining

her , waist, and chest. “If you’re going to tell me we shouldn’t be doing this, that I should stop, tell me now, before it’s too late,” he whispered.

“Don’t stop.” The words came out hoarse. Michaela dropped her head back, and he followed the

invitation, his mouth biting at her neck and down, down toward her . With no one to stop them this

time, he unbuttoned her shirt, opened and peeled it away in one easy movement. She kicked off her

shoes and gasped when her skirt fell to the ground in a soft slither.

Standing now only in her white lacy bra and skimpy underwear, she looked him full in the face. Dylan

paused, easing back to admire her willowy frame. The thin scraps of white lace she wore offered little protection from his hungry eyes. Leaving her no time to hesitate, he pulled her back toward him, his

hands moving under her to lift her. She wrapped a leg around him. His hardness pushed against her, and as he eased her into the bathroom the towel fell away, leaving him proud and erect.

“In,” he commanded as he lowered her, then pointed to the shower. She meekly let him push her under

the water.When the water from the shower hit her body, Dylan groaned. “Not bad, Cruise Director.”

Michaela looked down to see the curls of her sex and the thrust of her s outlined beneath the

translucent white lace, but her s were suddenly released as Dylan pulled the cups of the useless wet bra down and greedily sucked at each in turn. “Please,” she whimpered, and he chuckled low in his throat.

His tongue twisted around her . Oh!

No. Wait. She needed more control. The hot water, the steam, his wet hair under her fingers—it was too perfect for safety. Too close to the fantasy that had played out in her mind only yesterday. His mouth went back to her s. “Nice?” he said, and she whimpered again. Then his hands were on the thin lace of her panties.

“No, not yet.” Michaela squirmed out of his hands. Two could play at the passion game. “I want you,”

she purred, grasping at his erection and pushing him against the opposite wall.

“You’ll finish me if you touch me like that,” Dylan managed.

“Good.” The shock of seeing him fully undressed was tempered now by the water, her desire, and the

need clearly etched on his face.

He was big—very big—and hard. Oh, boy.

Her fingers wrapped around the skin of his rock-hard , stroking up and down, teasing him into a groaning frenzy. Dylan thrust out his arms to press his hands against the sides of the shower as his face convulsed with the pleasure of her touch.

“Don’t, you’ll—”

Michaela ignored his warning and ducked her head under the water to take his whole thick length into

her mouth. She loved the way he groaned when she ran her tongue over the sensitive head, loved the

way his body moved—his narrow thrusting gently as she moved her mouth over him. She loved the taut

feel of his butt under her hands, the muscles clenching, then releasing. His hands wrapped in her hair.

His passion mounted, his stomach tensing more with each stroke as her face came close to his body.

She felt the beginnings of his release and rolled her tongue again for good measure, only pulling back as his body finished its shuddering .

Sure, she was a little out of practice with getting , but he wasn’t the only one who knew a few tricks.

Dylan panted. The water dripped from his nose as he hung his head and caught his breath. His arms

were still braced against the sides of the shower, and he looked spent, but not weakened by any stretch.

Michaela stepped back, turning to get out of the shower.

“Not so fast, young lady.” Dylan grabbed her wrist and spun her back toward him. As he pulled her into his heaving chest, his lips nuzzled her throat, and he growled, “cheeky.”

She smiled, but he gave her little time to rest on her laurels. The kiss that followed was a merciless tease, feathery light, then hard and deep. A mere flutter of his tongue on her still-moist lips, then a sharp nip from his bared teeth.You don’t think you can pull that trick on me and get away with it?” He pushed her back against the wall, his hands again stroking her s before they slid down, following the path of the shower water toward the translucent lace scrap of her briefs. With his hard body pressed

against hers, she was helpless to escape. He pushed her against the wall with his own, and she felt his full strength.

“My turn.” The words emerged from his throat as little more than a sexy snarl.

Michaela gasped. “What are you—”

But his lips captured her mouth and silenced her once more. Releasing her only when she’d stopped

protesting, Dylan clenched her firm in both hands, lifting and putting her down on the small ledge set into the shower wall to hold soaps. “It’ll break,” she said, but he hushed her again, lifting her arms above her head and guiding them to hold on to the sturdy curtain rail that ran the whole way around the

shower box.

His eyes had turned as liquid as the shower water, their emerald depths steamier by far than the vapor that circled their heads. His hands smoothed the water across her body, massaging the firm flesh of her arms, her s, her stomach and thighs. Then he knelt before her, the water pouring off his broad

shoulders, and gently blew a hot kiss against her sex. One of his hands moved up her body again to palm her , and he half stood to take it again in his mouth while leaving the other hand to massage between her legs.

When she thought she wouldn’t be able to take it any longer, his hand slid beneath the waistband of her sodden panties and ripped her last piece of protection away. He kneeled again between her legs…and

waited.

“Oh, please,” she moaned, and with a grin he obliged her, sliding a finger deep inside her. She

shuddered as he stroked back and forth, gently probing her inner secrets and reaching the deepest parts of her. When he withdrew the finger, slicked it over her oris, and moved it back inside, Michaela

clenched at the curtain rail, desperate to pull him toward her, to force him to enter her more fully and ride her all the way to . Yet she was afraid that if she let go, she would fall from the ledge—or worse, break it. She would hate to have to explain to housekeeping just exactly how the shower had come to be in such disarray.

Slowly, very slowly, he pulled his finger out again. This time, he used two fingers to circle and massage her until her muscles clenched, then thrust both fingers inside.

“Michaela.” The smile was obvious in his voice. “You’ve been without a man for far too long.”

“I don’t think—” He put his other hand up to her mouth, quieting her, and plunged the two fingers back inside to completely distract her. Letting his hand fall away from her mouth, Dylan trailed it down her body, then stopped to tweak her s and toy with each as he kept the steady rhythm of his fingers in, out, swirling around her , back in.

Her arms started to shake, and she opened her legs wider. “Please,” she said. She’d forgotten this

need—or maybe never experienced it before. This need to be filled. “I want you,” she said, barely able to get the words out.

“Of course you do, but you can’t have everything you want. Didn’t your mother ever teach you that?”

He punctuated his teasing comment with a deeper trust of his fingers. “But perhaps you can have a little taste.”

He dipped his head between her thighs and pulled her oris into his mouth. The flicker and chase of his tongue built her up and then released her so that she rose again and again, only to be gently let back down to earth to rest for a second before he started over.

“Now?” he asked, and she just nodded, unable to speak. Then, finally, he brought her to the peak,

thrusting and circling with both his mouth and fingers until her whole body shook as she came and came and came.

She tasted sweet, hot and slippery from the shower. Michaela’s soft, tanned thighs trembled around his face, and he held her up so her orgasm would go on and on. As she spasmed, she began to call his name, and Dylan had to hurriedly cover her mouth for fear that the whole floor would hear her.

When her shaking finally ceased, he raised his head and saw her tawny eyes glossed with satisfaction.

He stood, lifting her gently down from the small ledge and tucking her s back into the bra, which was now stretched and sodden.

She looked down at where his hands lingered. “How am I going to wear this out of here?”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t.” The thought of her bare s pressed against her tight white uniform shirt as she walked through the ship almost made him hard again. “Promise me you’ll never wear underwear

again.”

Michaela laughed and slapped his hands away, apparently much easier in his company now. Good.

As he reached above her head to turn off the shower, she sniffed. “You smell good.”

“I’ll smell better when I don’t have to use Jake’s shampoo anymore.”

“True.” She smiled. “I better go.” She stepped out of the shower and into the fluffy white towel he held open for her.

The strength of his disappointment surprised him. “Really? But we haven’t even—” The sound of a

plastic key card in the lock interrupted him.

Michaela’s eyes blazed. “You said—”

Jake walked into the room, stopping short when he saw Michaela. “Cruise Director,” he said, nodding to her.

“I… My shower isn’t working, and Dylan offered to let me use yours…”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m hardly going to tell, am I? Where would I say I’d been?” Jake gave an exaggerated wink.

“Um, indeed.” Michaela fixed him with what she probably thought was a very stern look. Dylan would

have laughed if the situation had been different.

“Don’t worry,” Jake ured her again. “I’ll just pop out for a few turns on the deck. Evening constitutional and all that.” Chortling, he turned on his heel before anyone could protest.

Dylan watched as the ease Michaela had projected only moments before disappeared and she became

so stiff, it was a shock she could bend over to pick up her shirt and skirt. “Oh, God. I really am going to have to take this wet bra off or my shirt will turn see-through!”

Damn Jake for being early. He’d wanted to take her to bed and luxuriate with her in his arms for a

while.disappointment before it could fully form. She had been about to leave anyway. He’d just have to make sure Jake’s intrusion was only an interruption, not an ending. The little taste he’d had of Michaela Western only made him want more of her.

Fully dressed but with no underwear to speak of, Michaela turned to leave.

He caught her around the waist. “There’s no need to rush, he won’t be back for a good ten minutes yet.”

“No,” she said. “Imagine if he had come back earlier… Oh, no, don’t.” The blush ran from her toes to her cheeks.

“Michaela.” Dylan tilted her face to his. “There is nothing wrong with this, with us. I know you have your position to think of, and I will be discreet, I promise. But we have nothing to hide.”

As he said the words, he almost laughed at their irony. If she knew who he really was, how he got here, she would probably boot him off the ship the first chance she got.

The more time he spent with her, though, the more it seemed worth the risk.

Her eyes softened. She wanted to believe him, he could tell. “We’ll see,” she said quietly.

He had to fight to keep the triumph from his smile. Excellent.

If she couldn’t resist him, all would be well. Next time, he’d make sure they had more time, and he’d relish the chance to delve more into her mind.

The more time he spent with Michaela, the longer her list of good traits became. He mentally ticked

them off: smart, driven, independent, values her family, and a tiger in bed.

Sensing some indecision in her, he took advantage and swept down, kissing her in a hot farewell.

“Goodnight,” he said. “Sweet dreams.” With those last words, his hands smoothed down her uniform

skirt, and then…

“Stop it!” She slapped at his hand. “Your roommate will be back any minute.”

“Well then,” he said, pulling her back to him for one last, lingering kiss. “I hope your dreams are

anything but sweet.”

He watched her force herself to turn the door handle and walk out of the room, her s pressing against the thin white fabric of her shirt and scraps of wet white lace clutched in her hand.

The next day was another shore day, and Michaela sat in her office, catching up on some paperwork

while the rest of her team was away.

Dylan had imprinted himself on her skin. That must be what this scratchy sensation was.With a pang of regret, she’d waved off the ship’s tender Dylan sat in. As it plowed its way through the ocean, she’d wished with every fiber of her being that she was going with him to walk hand in hand along the beach.

It was just lust, she reminded herself for the hundredth time since she’d left his stateroom, thoroughly satiated and almost drunk on the adrenaline of their secret. Breathe in, breathe in, breathe in.

There was no need for her to remind herself to breathe out. The air whooshed out of her lungs every

time she replayed their time in the shower together.

Lust with a little bit of something extra?

Get back to work, Ms. Western.

When she’d first started in the business, she’d taken every opportunity she could to explore the tropical locations the ship stopped in, but as she’d risen up the ranks the responsibilities of her office had piled on, and she’d found more reasons to stay onboard. It was blessedly quiet today, though, and being able to walk the decks without bumping into people at every step was a blissful indulgence in itself.

As she strolled around the top deck, she admired the picturesque island in front of her. The golden