The Billionaire's Christmas Bride (Big Bad Billionaires #3) - L. Steele Page 0,126
there, Amelie?" A woman's voice calls out.
I snap my eyes open, "Oh, hell—" I gasp, "It’s—"
"Amelie!" The voice sounds closer, "Where are you? My flight got in earlier than expected, I'm—Oh... OH!" There's the sound of a startled exclamation, "Oh, I'm sorry."
I turn my head over my shoulder and heat flushes my face. "Julia," I exclaim.
"Ah..." My friend glances from me to Weston, then back at me, "Umm... I'm so sorry..." She averts her eyes, "Ah, my flight just got in... I came in straight from the airport...uh! Why don't I go get coffees for all of us? I'll be right back."
"Wait, Julia..." I shove at Weston who, of course, doesn't budge an inch.
"It's fine, don't worry." She turns away, waves her hand in the air, "It's all good, honest. I'll, uh, be right back." She scampers off.
I turn to Wes, "Let me go." I slap at his shoulder.
"No," he smirks, "in case you've forgotten, I'm still inside of you."
His dick pulses inside of me and I blink, "You're hard again? How's that possible, you just ah, came..."
"So?" He bends his knees and kisses me, "Merry fucking-Christmas, by the way."
"You can say that again." I throw my arms around him and kiss him back, "Please can we get dressed, before she returns?"
Ten minutes later, I watch him in the mirror in my bedroom. He'd jumped in the shower a few minutes ago, and now he shrugs into the shirt I'd rescued from the kitchen floor.
He does up the buttons—the one's that had survived when I had ripped it off earlier. Gah! Had I actually done that? Around him I seemed to turn into some kind of sex addict. But can you blame me? I stare at the gorgeous planes of his chest being hidden by the fabric. My throat dries. The pleasant ache between my legs intensifies. I'll never get enough of him, never.
He tugs on the lapel of his shirt. "I can keep this off, if you prefer." His lips curl.
"Not a chance." I close the gap between us, then stab my finger into his rock-hard abs, "I don't feel like sharing right now. Besides, this picture-perfect cut physique belongs to me, you get me?"
He chuckles, "My, my, how possessive you sound, little Red?"
"All the better to scratch you with." I drag my fingernail down the demarcation between his pecs. Why the hell can't I keep my hands off of him?
"I can't wait to see you in scrubs," I mutter.
"I am sure I can oblige." He smirks, " kinky doctor-patient games are my specialty."
"And here I thought it was food kink that got you off." I widen my gaze.
"When it comes to you, babe, everything I do takes on another dimension." He runs his big palm down the curve of my waist and slaps my butt.
"Whoa, whoa," I protest. "What's that for?"
"Keeping you warm." He massages my arse, then cups the other cheek with his free hand and squeezes. My sex instantly clenches. He drags me up on my tiptoes, and the tent in his crotch pokes me.
"You're hard," I mumble.
"You're soft." His grip on my backside tightens and my nipples instantly pucker. Moisture pools between my thighs. "This is not the time," I half protest. "Julia will be back any moment."
He groans, "I think I much prefer the cabin. At least, I could have you to myself there."
I chuckle, "I'll always remember it as the place where I walked in on you naked."
"If I had my way, you and I would be naked for a month, on an island in the middle of nowhere."
"Just as long as there is an oven where I can bake." I warn.
"I'd rather see you baking in the sun... Naked, of course."
I shake my head, "Don't you think of anything but sex?"
"Do you?" He chuckles.
"I think you're fast becoming my favorite dessert, Doc Kincaid," I reply.
"You know you are always mine." He laughs and his features light up. His hair is all mussed up, thanks to me—I'd clung to it, when he'd insisted on going down on me, one last time before he'd released me. Seriously, the man is insatiable. The soreness between my legs is testament to that—and the hickeys on my neck, the bitemarks on my breasts—which is why I am wearing this long-sleeved turtle-neck sweater and a fresh pair of jeans. I glance down at his bare feet, "Did you lose your shoes?"
"Gave them to the homeless guy outside the apartment building."