The Billionaire's Betrayal (Highest Bidder #3) - Carmen Falcone Page 0,37
asked.
“Not bad. I thought beer was your jam.”
“It’s the Texan in me.”
A super rich Texan, she added inwardly, but bit her tongue. She didn’t want him to think about his messed-up family tonight. If she could offer him some distraction from the emotional day, she would. Hell, this wasn’t necessarily a good deed. She wanted him, too.
“You’ve done well for yourself, Madam.” He gestured at her state-of-the-art, all white kitchen and spacious living room. A buttery leather set of sectionals, foreign rugs and accent pieces that would have an art dealer salivating, scattered the area.
“Thanks.”
“I know why you opened your business. I just can’t imagine how challenging it must have been at first.”
“I had to pick the right customers for sure. Safety was always my priority.”
He sipped his wine. “Did a buyer ever get out of line with you?”
“I usually do a good job putting them in their place. Once, though, this guy bought a virgin and said he only did that to get close to me. He came onto me after the auction.”
“What did you do?”
“Showed him the way out and compensated the woman.”
A strand of empowerment coursed through her. She meandered to the sofa, sitting, and he followed suit, choosing the chair across from her. A cold draft engulfed her, raising goose bumps on her skin.
“I like to sit in front of you, because I can never get enough of looking into your eyes,” he said, reading her mind.
She sucked in a breath, unsure what to say. A simple thank you seemed redundant, and it was too late to pretend modesty. The way he gazed at her, with so much intent and intensity, left her speechless.
“Different shades of blue give you a depth. I try to interpret the message in your eyes and get drawn in every time.”
God. Her breath caught in her throat, her chest rising and falling. She crossed and uncrossed her legs. “Watch out, Brooks. I didn’t slave in the kitchen for the food to get cold while you smooth talk me.”
“Then by all means…let’s change the subject. What’s a perk of your work, besides the money?”
“Free stuff. Some companies in Vegas particularly want me to sponsor their stuff so they send me a lot of stuff gratis,” she said. Even though she preferred not to put her face in the limelight, every so often an opportunity too good to pass up knocked on her door and she took it.
“Interesting. What kind of businesses?”
“Nightclubs, beauty spas. Sex shops.”
“Sex shops?”
“Yeah. I actually have a lot of stuff they send me. Toys, lotions, etc.” They believed she had a wild sex life, and she didn’t waste time trying to prove them wrong.
“I say let’s eat, so later you can show me all the swag you’ve been getting. You know, from a business point of view, I’d love to take a look.”
“Of course.”
She took him to the dining room she seldom used and brought the dishes. They exchanged innuendos while eating the oysters, and he made her chuckle more than expected. Then, she brought the shrimp dish with sautéed vegetables, and they talked about current events and politics.
To her surprise, Brooks made her feel comfortable discussing a variety of topics, and the more she heard from him, the more she wanted to know. This night had been what they both needed—a welcoming respite from reality. A small voice reminded her to be careful, but she shoved more wine down her throat to shut it off. She’d worry about their growing connection the next day, or the day after that. Now, she’d enjoy their night like two normal people on a date.
“Dinner was excellent. I’m impressed.”
“Thank you. Would you like a tour?”
“Yeah.”
He stood, then pulled out the chair for her, and when she surged to her feet, he held her from behind. His hot breath fanned her earlobe, sending shivers of arousal down her body. “You smell so good,” he said gruffly.
He skimmed her body, hovering his lips on her neck but not quite touching it. Lust stirred in her sex, coating her folds and swelling her clit. She gasped, so turned on even from minimal contact.
She rocked her hips into his pants, earning a groan from him. His cock poked her dress, the massive hard-on pressing against the fabric, molding in between her ass cheeks. God. “I see you’re ready for a tour.”
“I’m ready to eat your pussy, and if a tour will get me there faster, so be it.”
She reached for the blindfold she’d slipped inside her