Working Stiff: Casimir (Runaway Billionaires #1) (21 page)

BOOK: Working Stiff: Casimir (Runaway Billionaires #1)
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She saw him bending, and his warm lips found hers in the dark. He kissed her slowly, barely opening his lips until she did, too. When she slid her arms around his neck, he deepened the kiss, stroking his tongue against hers.

He backed off, whispering against her skin as his lips ran over her neck, “You are beautiful, Rox. I don’t want to ever hear you say again that you’re not.”

“But I’m not—”

His mouth covered hers again, and his fingers gripped her ass, digging in. His arm around her waist tightened.

When he broke off the kiss again, he growled near her ear, “You are beautiful. You’re voluptuous and succulent, and I want to lick every inch of you. If I hear you say again that you are not, I will turn you over my knee and spank your bare bottom.”

Rox felt her eyes widen, but it was too dark to see anything even with her eyes open wide. None of the other women in the office had mentioned spanking or anything like that, but no one had been forthcoming with details, either.

Just knowing looks.

Oh, Lord. He must be totally into the kinky stuff. He was European, which surely meant that he was depraved to begin with, and he must have gotten tired of all that normal sex stuff with women years ago.

What had she gotten herself into?

His voice sounded strangled in his throat when he said, “You swear to
God
that you’re not married.”

She shook her head in the dark, her hair swishing around her neck and shoulders. “I’m not married. I’ve never been married.”

His arm withdrew from her waist and stroked down her arm to find her hand. He led her backward, almost like dancing, until he turned them both and pressed her shoulder to make her sit down.

In the dark, he had somehow found one of the chaise lounges, and Rox sat on the thick cushion.

Wait, did he want to get frisky out here on the deck, lying on one of the reclining deck chairs? She wasn’t even sure how to do that. The deck chairs were strong, probably teak, but she needed a wide bed for her chubby butt.

No way. Someone might see them, even though the other houses were far away. Someone might fly over in a helicopter or something. “Cash, let’s go inside.”

“Let’s stay here.” His voice was deeper, hoarser. “The sun won’t be up for hours.”

There was, truly, no light. The fishhook moon was sinking into the ocean, darkening the sky and deck even more.

The night around them was very dark. They wouldn’t be able to see each other at all.

She knew that he wasn’t shy about his body, at least the upper half of it that he showed off during impromptu basketball games on the roof of the parking structure. Those black tattoos that licked up his side weren’t meant to be hidden. And he had no reason to be coy about what was in his pants, either. Good gravy, when she had unzipped him the night before, she had never seen one so big before. Or thick.

The solid darkness around them almost made her dizzy, and she spread her hands on the cushion of the chaise lounge to orient herself.

Warm flesh closed around her ankle, and Cash moved her leg to the other side of the chaise lounge so that she straddled the chair.

Under her legs, the cushion sank, and she could feel Cash sit down across from her. His hands closed around her face, and his lips touched hers, gently kissing her. He stroked her legs again, lifting them, and positioned her knees over his thighs. His hands explored her hips, petting and grasping her legs through her fuzzy pajamas while he kissed her. His lips caressed hers, gently waiting while she responded, while his hands explored her body in the dark.

Rox could barely feel herself breathing, and she reached to run her hands from his wrists, over the ropes of muscle around his arms, and up to his broad shoulders. She was as blind as if she had a hood over her head.

“I can’t see you.” Her fingers trailed up his neck.

He caught her hand and kissed her palm, his lips warm against her hand. “You don’t need to.”

The surf crashed and roared far below them, and salt spray misted the air.

He pressed her hand to his chest. Under his thin tee shirt, his heavy muscles warmed her fingers, and she could feel his heart thumping fast inside.

His fingers moved up her ribs, almost tickling, and then dipped underneath her pajama top to touch her skin. She sucked a breath in when his cool fingers touched her, but he pressed his hands to her sides. His hands were warmer, and he pushed her pajama top up, stripping it off over her head.

Rox looked around again, but the darkness was only broken by the glitter of stars overhead and their very faint light. With the moon fully down now, she could barely see the two slants of Cash’s cheekbones and the center ridge of his nose. He was almost a dark cutout against the starry sky.

He traced down her shoulders, finding the swells of her breasts, and she heard him hum for a moment as he ran his fingertips over the lace on top and the silk on the bottom of the cups.

Cash said, “I can hardly wait to see this.”

“We could go inside,” she said, but her knees were weak from his hands on her. She probably couldn’t have stood up anyway. “You could see it now.”

“Next time,” he murmured. “I can almost see it. What color is it?”

“Black silk. Ivory lace.” Her voice sounded breathy.

“Oh, God,” he groaned. One of his hands slipped around her boob, and the other nudged her shoulder, pushing her back against the raised back of the chaise lounge.

As she reclined, he leaned with her, nuzzling her breasts through the lace, his warm breath and hot tongue on her. His tee shirt brushed her stomach, and Rox grabbed the soft cotton, pulling it up and over his head. She threw it aside, near where she hoped he had thrown her top. Warmth flowed over her, his body radiating heat.

He ducked his head back down to her breasts and slid his hand behind her, releasing her bra and adding it to the unseen pile beside them.

Without her bra, he opened his mouth and sucked at her breasts, mouthing her, biting, then licking her to soothe the sting. In minutes, she was squirming, panting, but his body was between her legs and she already couldn’t get away from him.

She ran her hands through his hair, the longer strands trailing through her fingers, and down near his cheekbones.

He trailed off, kissing her neck, but then sat up.

“Turn around,” he growled.

“What?” Her head buzzed hard with the hot lust running through her.

He found her shoulder and traced down to her arm, then seized her hand, pulling. Rox let herself be pulled up to sitting, and he turned her hips, guiding her to switch her legs and turn her back to him.

She was facing away from Cash, holding onto the back of the chair, while his hands and his mouth caressed her in the dark.

Still holding her sides, his warm lips found her lower back, and the heat of his mouth climbed her spine. Her hair moved. She gripped the back of the chaise lounge more firmly to steady herself. Her hair tightened around her skull, and her head was turned gently to the side. He must have wrapped the length of her hair around his fist and was guiding her with it. His breath warmed the back of her neck, and his lips stroked down her skin. He nibbled all the way to her shoulder.

Her underwear tugged at her hips and she helped him guide her panties down her legs.

Near her ear, Cash asked, “They match?”

She squeezed the foam cushion, holding on so that she didn’t get dizzy in the darkness all around her, as she lifted her feet out of the silk and lace panties. “Yeah.”

He chuckled, a deep sound in his throat. His other hand circled her ass, grabbing her ample flesh, and kneaded while he kissed her neck, still holding her hair. Her body heated everywhere he touched, his hand on her butt, his mouth on the back of her neck, and her shoulder where he still held her hair tight in his fist.

The night was so black that Rox felt like she was floating in space.

His hand left her butt for a moment, and something hard and long slid between her thighs, rubbing her bare skin down there. Vibrations rose up her back as he slid back, the ridge of his cock brushing her clit.

She sucked in a deep breath and managed to say, “Wait, I’m not on the pill.”

“I put on a condom,” he whispered. “Is that sufficient?”

“What, you have them stashed all over the house? Even on the deck?”

“I had three in my pocket. All night, I’ve been talking myself out of knocking on your door.”

He pushed through her folds again, holding onto her hip as he slid, and he groaned.

Every rub through her folds sent shivers up her body, and she bit her lip as they shook her. “Cash—”

“Say it again.”

“Cash,
oh,”
the tremors amplified, and a long, smooth stroke over her clit sent new vibrations up her spine.

“Say you want me.”

She was ravenous for him, starving as if she had been sitting in front of a feast for three, long years. “I want you. Oh, Cash,
please.”

His chuckle was deep in his throat and almost a whimper. “Now
that
is enthusiastic consent.”

“Arrogant lawyer,” she whispered.

“Guilty as charged.”

His hand on her hip slipped around to her front, and he pushed her neck forward with his hand still wrapped in her hair. Rox fell against the cushioned back of the chaise lounge, and he tipped her ass up and slid his cock inside her, his fingers finding her clit now that he was buried inside her core.

As he pushed into her, the tremors deepened, shaking her, and his fingers slipped over her clit in front while his cock rubbed deep inside. Her body clenched, tightening, and she panted hard, grabbing the cushion with her fists.
“Cash!”

He released her hair and dragged her up to him, holding her around her waist, and she reached back and above her head to cling to his shoulders and neck. He pressed her soft body to his hard, muscular flesh, rubbing her ass and back with the ripples of his abs and thick chest muscles. He drove up into her and pressed her clit, and he whispered, “Come now.”

Her body squeezed down on his cock inside her until his fingers pushed against her clit one last time, releasing the throbs that rushed through her, all the way up her spine to her head, and she cried out.

His rhythm changed and he jabbed up inside her, leaning back and groaning as he throbbed. His hand clenched, pressing her clit again, and another shock zinged through Rox, fast and sharp and making the world fall away.

Then she was panting, dripping sweat, with her face smashed against the cushion of the chaise lounge. Cash was breathing hard, pressed to the back of her shoulder.

He turned, and she felt his lips on her neck. He whispered, “You are so very beautiful, Rox.”

She raised her hand to touch his face, but he sat up, pulling out of her and leaving an empty ache. Rox slid down the cushion, but he was back in a moment, pulling her into his arms. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go inside.”

“Sure,
now
you want to go inside,” she grumbled, standing on wobbly legs.

He lifted her into his arms, holding her against his shoulder, and carried her to his bed through the dark house.

ARTHUR AND MAXENCE

The next morning, Rox woke up in Cash’s bed, alone except for Midnight and Pirate sleeping by her feet, and his cell phone was ringing. “Cash!”

“Answer it, would you?” he called from the bathroom.

“I can’t answer your phone.” It rang again, and the clock next to the phone read seven o’clock.

Cash stuck his head out of the door, a dark blue towel draped over his head and face while he rubbed his hair to dry it. He was naked to the waist, another towel slung low around his slim hips. As he moved his arms, his chest flexed and stretched, and those rows of ridges rippled.

Speedbump peeked his furry face out of the door at his feet.

He said, “Everyone knows you’re staying with me. Pick it up.”

Rox grabbed his phone off his nightstand. “Cash Amsberg’s phone.”

He laughed and went back to the bathroom, still toweling his head.

A woman’s voice on the phone said, “This is the front gate guard’s station. I have two men here who say that you are expecting them as guests, Arthur Finch-Hatten and Maxence Grimaldi. Should I let them proceed?”

Arthur and Maxence.

“Yes, please,” she said into the phone. “They’re expected.”

“You can call to pre-register guests so that they won’t be delayed,” the woman said.

“Thank you. We’ll do that next time.” She hung up.

“Who was it?” Cash asked from the bathroom. “The office, asking when I’ll be in, again?”

She said, “Don’t be mad.”

Cash stuck his head out of the bathroom, white shaving cream slathered all over the lower half of his face, all the way up to his bright green eyes. The towel hung around his neck, the ends swinging by the vee of his lateral abs that pointed under the other towel. “What did you do?”

“Your friends Arthur and Maxence are coming for a visit.”

“Oh, God. Those two. We will probably end up in Mexico and need hepatitis shots afterward, if not rabies shots. I’ll call them and tell them that I’m indisposed and we’ll have to do it another time. When are they due to arrive? Next week?”

“About ten minutes from now, I figure,” she said.

“What!”

The doorbell bonged throughout the house.

She flinched. “Maybe sooner.”

His eyes widened, and he wiped at the shaving cream with the towel around his neck.
“Damn.
Go get dressed. I’ll answer the door.”

Rox bolted to her guest room, showered as fast as she could, threw on some clothes, stumbled over the cats, and high-tailed it to the living room even though she suspected that hiding in the guest room might be the saner choice.

In the foyer, Cash stood with two men. He had yanked on jeans and a tee shirt, and a gauze bandage was plastered over the stubble on his left cheek.

The three cats peeked around the corner with Rox and then spun their wheels on the Spanish tile, bugging out to her room to hide under the bed.

“Rox,” Cash said and held out his arm.

Three figures stood in the sunlight streaming in through the front windows, almost dark silhouettes, but even from that distance and backlit, she could see that the other two guys were also stunningly beautiful men and as tall as Cash.

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