by Sam Crescent
“No. They learn to handle you, and graciously, or they aren’t friends. I’ve had enough of my grandfather’s plans, Harper.” I kiss her more gently, trying to remember she might be more hurt than she’s letting on. “My plans are just beginning. I’m going to take the company public and take the love of my life wherever she wants to go.” She nips my lower lip.
“You better take her however she wants, too.”
“Always.” I slide my hand along her back, enjoying the curve of her body, already imagining what she’ll look like in five minutes when I bend her over the edge of the couch and get my mouth on her. “As long as she wants me.”
“I always want you,” she whispers against my ear, finding the exact spot to make my blood run hot.
“I should spank you for doubting me.”
“Is that really a punishment when it makes me come harder?”
“Sweetheart, if I wanted to punish you, I’d refuse to get you off, not help it along.”
“So you just like spanking me? Sadist.”
“I like making you come until you can’t stand up. That I get to do so while enjoying the sight of that gorgeous ass turning bright pink is purely a bonus.”
“Were you this kinky at nineteen?”
“Probably. But too inexperienced to know what I wanted. And I was with a sweet, uncertain virgin, as I recall. I wanted her to know sex was supposed to be fun.”
Her expression turns rueful. “You ruined her for everyone else. Kink was the only answer after that.”
“Flattery will get you extra strokes. Once you stop throwing yourself down staircases.”
She grinds against my erection and leans in to rake her teeth along my throat. “I used to close my eyes and imagine it was you spanking me, making me say sorry for letting you go.”
My fingers clench on her hips at that. I grab her hair and hold her still for a long, hard kiss. I have to make this work, I realize. Because I can’t fucking stand the idea of any other man touching her. Jealousy, protectiveness, a shitload of Neanderthal instincts all light up my brain.
“Keep talking like that and I’m not getting shit done but fuck you.”
“Promises, promises. All that rich boy talk…”
I flip her, pin her to the couch, and shut her mouth with kisses. But she doesn’t quite stop giggling until I’ve got my finger on her clit. By the time I slide down and fasten my lips on her, she’s only capable of moaning.
****
“Don’t worry about taking the pills.” The second the words are out of my mouth I regret them. Harper stares at me like I’ve grown two heads. We are sprawled in the massive bed of a Las Vegas suite, the Strip a glittering panorama behind her. Light catches in her ebony hair as she shakes her head in warning or disbelief. I run my fingers through the silky strands, regardless of her displeasure. She slaps my wrist away.
“Excuse you?”
“If you want a kid, it’s not like I can’t afford the bills. Medical, everything else… It’s a whole arrangement we’d have to work out, but…”
“Remember our first night together, and I told you to shut up?”
“I know. But I don’t want you to avoid it because you think I want you to.”
“Jax, use your words,” she says with narrowed eyes. “Is this your totally backwards way to ask me if I’m serious about you?”
“I … I wouldn’t mind having a kid. With you. Looking at you sometimes, I get this flash of you and me, with a kid. And I guess it’s kind of nice. But I’m not pushing you. Your body, your rules.”
Harper laughs, then crawls over to cover me in giggly kisses. “You know it’s supposed to me trying to get pregnant, not you trying to get me pregnant. No benefits to you getting my bank account, gorgeous.”
“I don’t want your bank account,” I whisper. “Just you.”
“Just you,” she echoes before we get lost in a slow kiss. Her tongue against mine, her hand tracing my chest. “I love you, Jax. Kids, no kids. Money, no money. It’s all semantics. You’re all I need.”
“Then you wouldn’t mind getting married tomorrow?” I flick my thumb across her nipple and rake my teeth against the rise of her breast until she whimpers.
“I think I could… manage that.” She might’ve made a joke if I hadn’t thrust my hips against hers. Instead she cries out and arches. “More?”
“Say yes to me first.”
“Yes. Yes. Yes!”
“Keep saying it,” I order as her legs part. I’ll make a public proposal later. Tonight is for us.
The End
Find more books from author Allegra Grey:
www.evernightpublishing.com/allegra-grey
BREWING UP LOVE WITH THE BILLIONAIRE
Laura M. Baird
Copyright © 2020
Chapter One
“Fuck,” Ivy cursed, flailing her arms and legs like a newborn colt. Earning a few scowls from nearby patrons, she mumbled beneath her breath get over it while flashing a cheesy smile. She righted herself before attempting another step, carefully placing one foot in front of the other as if she were navigating a minefield. She wondered if she’d made a mistake with this outing as she not-so-gracefully recovered from her near stumble in ridiculous heels while walking through the door.
Ivy wasn’t a fan of high society events that required fancy attire, shoes she never wore, and snooty attitudes she could certainly do without. Not to mention a masquerade where you didn’t even know who the hell you were talking to if you didn’t run in these circles.
Then again, maybe that was a plus. Being able to do or say whatever came to mind and damn the consequences, because the likelihood of her running into anyone associated with this gala beyond tonight was slim. There was a reason her nickname was Firecracker, because she had a habit of popping off with whatever was on her mind. Ivy knew the difference between being tactful and sensitive versus holding back because someone’s bleeding heart had become soft in this pussified world. If people couldn’t deal with her honesty—and often unapologetic foul language—too bad, so sad.
The only reason she had agreed to attend was to support her sister, Sophie, an internationally acclaimed photographer, so Ivy would suck it up and give her sibling the kudos she deserved. Sophie’s work was among the handful of tonight’s exhibits for the grand reopening of the Museum of Modern Art in New York. While Ivy Baines became a chemist and researcher who lectured around the world, her younger sister traveled the globe capturing images unlike anything Ivy had ever seen. Pride for her sister swelled her heart, and Ivy couldn’t wait to see what wonders she had to present.
After depositing her coat, which had been necessary for the brisk October evening, Ivy ensured her unruly curls weren’t springing free of their clips and her mask was securely in place. She lifted the hem of her dress so as not to trip while negotiating the steps into the main event area. She slowly made her way around the displays, noticing a handful of other attendees admiring the art, while a few small groups huddled together quietly talking. Ivy had purposely arrived early in order to have a few moments with Sophie, wishing her the best before allowing her parents time to visit with their little girl. And walking freely was much more enjoyable when Ivy didn’t have to negotiate around hundreds of bodies.
She saved her sister’s work for last, wanting her incredible talent to be the last thing she viewed before the area became flooded with people. At that point, Ivy would be ready to duck out early. Skirting around a column that would lead to Sophie’s prints, she stopped short when she heard voices, hoping they would move on, allowing Ivy some privacy. But the longer she listened, the more she realized the viewers were bound to linger as they continued their debate.
“These pictures aren’t anything special even I couldn’t accomplish,” said a nasally female voice that sounded like her vocal cords had been raked across a cheese grater.
“I disagree, humbly, of course,” countered a man. “While anyone is certainly capable of snapping a photograph, this
artist clearly has an eye as well as the heart for capturing the essence of the moment.”
Oh, Ivy liked this man immediately. Not only for defending her sister’s work, but for stating what Ivy herself felt was the epitome of Sophie’s talent. And it certainly didn’t hurt that his voice oozed with sexiness, its deep, stirring tone making her think of dirty whispers in the heat of passion.
Jeez! Horny much?
So it had been a while since her last sexual encounter. With a man. It was time to focus.
“Pfft, essence of the moment,” mocked the woman. “This one is simply a couple about to kiss. There’s nothing special about it. Especially that couple,” she said, lowering her voice, but not enough that Ivy couldn’t hear the comment.
Ivy bristled, hating to hear criticism for Sophie’s talent. She wondered about the couple in the picture she had yet to see and what on earth that woman meant. Just as she wanted to make her presence known, the man spoke out.
“You didn’t really just say that? Obviously, you’ve forgotten the theme of this event.”
“Yes, yes. My world, your world, our world. What a ridiculous name for an event.” The woman continued to scoff. “It certainly wasn’t my choice. And these masks we’re required to wear as if we’re all alike. How boring. It’s a good thing I had plenty of accessories.”
Ivy couldn’t really fault the woman on that point, as she, too, hated masks, but even she understood the importance of the premise for tonight.
“That’s the purpose of the event, to show no matter our differences, we’re all human beings, dealing with similar concerns. It’s not just about tolerance anymore, it’s about understanding, acceptance, and inclusion.”
“How very noble of you, but I will never understand nor condone a couple like that.”
“That couple is a beautiful representation of love in today’s society.”
“And what would you know about love? A man who romances a different woman every week? One whom the tabloids speculate about as if you are their favorite subject?”
Who are these people? Obviously, the man’s well-known if he’s featured in tabloids. Even if it isn’t under the best of circumstances. And this anal bitch? Why, I’d like to—
“They only see what they want to see,” the man countered. “Much like yourself. Which isn’t anything close to the truth.”
One more point in favor of sexy-voice-stranger.
The heavy sigh and tsking of the woman annoyed Ivy even more.
“Another quality you’d know nothing about,” she spat.
Okay, I’ve had enough of this!
“You wouldn’t know the truth if—” the evil wench began.
“It smacked you in the face?”
The wide-eyed shock from the woman in the obscenely bedazzled mask brought a smug smile to Ivy’s face as she approached the two, her heels suddenly clicking confidently on the marble. When she looked to the man, she could clearly see the corner of his mouth lift in an appealing grin. And while she couldn’t see his features due to the mask he wore, Ivy had no problem in discerning the intensity of his stare. Gray eyes churned with intrigue and interest as he scanned her from head to toe and back again before meeting her gaze, smiling even broader.
“Who in the world are you?” the woman demanded. She was clearly older than the man, with wrinkles marring her neck and hands, and dull gray eyes, which narrowed in anger.
Ivy continued her stroll right up to the man’s side, placing her hand atop his shoulder from behind while he wrapped his arm around her waist as if it were the most natural thing for either to do. From her peripheral vision, she saw him peer down at her as he stood at least half a foot taller, even with her in the heels. And while she felt his stare, along with the sweep of his hand across her hip, she boldly faced the woman.
Plastering on her best smile, she poured on the sweets. “Have we not met before now? Why, I’m his flavor of the week, and believe me when I say he clearly knows a thing or two about love.” Ivy smoothed her hand across the man’s shoulder to his neck, feathering her fingers in his short black hair sprinkled with silver. She turned her face to meet his gaze and purred. “Or should I say, about what a woman loves.”
The man’s gorgeous eyes darkened with immediate desire that surely mirrored Ivy’s as she felt her body come alive while being held against his impressive solid form. And when his arm pulled her in tighter as he gave her a devilish smile, her core slickened while her insides danced with excitement. The scent of his cologne only added to his allure as it wound its way into Ivy’s nostrils, further heightening her arousal.
Damn, who is this magical man?
“And I believe I’ve only scratched the surface on your desires,” he said, obviously playing along with her charade. His voice dropped in volume and tenor, caressing her senses as he continued. “But I look forward to more discoveries.” He lifted his free hand, tenderly stroking his knuckles beneath her chin, tilting her head. Before Ivy could release the sigh she felt stirring, he bent his head to bring their lips together in the sweetest kiss she’d felt in a very long time.
Too long to remember.
She closed her eyes as she allowed this mysterious stranger to pleasure her mouth, almost wishing they were alone in order to take him up on his statement about discoveries. Their masks didn’t hinder his ability as the kiss intensified while he swung her around to bring them chest to chest. His lips smiled against hers when she gasped, but a split second was all the interruption he allowed as he went back to ravishing her, heedless of their audience.
Unfortunately, that audience gave a sound of disgust, causing Ivy to release the giggle she failed to stifle. When she and the man parted, their faces hovering inches away from one another, the woman spoke again, breaking the spell around them.
“Just another floozy in his bed he’ll discard when he tires of you.”
Ivy felt the man tense as he swung his head toward the woman. “That’s quite enough, Mother.”
Mother? Oh, shit!
“Why don’t you go make yourself happy by finding someone else to criticize? I believe I’d like to be alone with my woman.”
Without waiting for his mother to answer, the man expertly swung Ivy around, walking her in the opposite direction. She practically shuffled on her tippy-toes to keep up. While she heard the woman spewing something, Ivy couldn’t make out the words as she was hastened to a darkened alcove.
“Your woman?” She started to tease, continuing with playful banter. But before she could utter another word or even offer an explanation to her actions, the man’s lips once again descended upon hers. Another gasp of surprise morphed into a moan of compliance as this man performed delicious deeds to her mouth, coaxing her to open and allow his tongue its invasion. Ivy stood on the toes of her shoes in order to get closer, her hands linking behind his head to anchor herself in place.
Their movements caused displacement of the masks, which in turn caused the man to step back. Ivy’s arms dropped to her sides as he softly cursed the offending items.
“Damn these silly things. Why don’t we dispose of them so I can have a good look at my mysterious beauty?”
When he started to remove his mask, Ivy grabbed his hands to stop him. “No!” She wasn’t sure why, but she wasn’t ready to see the man’s identity, nor was she ready to reveal hers. Anonymity added a greater sense of adventure to this little game.
He stared curiously at her hands, causing her to release them from his. She then straightened her mask and checked her hairpins, feeling her face heat with a blush he fortunately couldn’t see in the dim lighting.
“I, uh, I rather like them. And the artist went to such great effort to provide them for the patrons.” Ivy practically groaned at herself for such a pathetic excuse. When the man lowered his hands and chuckled, she laughed in return. “I’m sorry about barging in like that, but I couldn’t stand to hear, um, your mother’s remarks. And thank you for defending the artist’s work.”
�
�I spoke the truth. The photographer’s work is exquisite, one I’ve admired even prior to tonight’s exhibit.”
“You have?” Ivy asked in wonder, although she shouldn’t have been surprised. Sophie’s work had won international awards, appearing in multiple museums and art exhibits over the past several years.
He chuckled. “I have. In fact, I own a number of her prints and was considering purchasing more this evening. The one in particular my mother unfortunately made disparaging remarks about.”
Ivy briefly caught a glimpse of that piece as she had made her way to the gentlemen’s side. The contrast between the two women, one black and the other Caucasian, had been strikingly beautiful. The only pop of color Ivy had seen was the tint of their lips, which were separated by a mere whisper. Although it was a gorgeous piece of art, Ivy still wondered why a man would want a picture of two women.
Was it true that many men fantasized about a ménage? Yes, her thoughts immediately went there.
As if reading her mind—or maybe it was the puzzled look on her face—the man laughed.
“While the thought of being with two beautiful creatures may appeal to some, believe me when I say I’m strictly monogamous.”
“With your particular lady of the week?” Ivy teased.
“Precisely.” He took a step closer, pressing against her body as his hands framed her face. “Would you do me the honor of being that lady?”
“Tempting proposition—”
“Which you started with your enticing entrance.”
“But I have to decline,” she continued, trying with great difficulty to not fall for his charm. Playing a part was one thing, acting on it was a whole different scenario. “We are strangers, after all.”
“A situation easily remedied.” Ivy watched the man’s stare go from her eyes to her lips before meeting her gaze again. In the depths of his eyes she watched them flicker from gray to silver as they grabbed the ambient light while crinkling at the corners when he smiled. “It’d be such a shame not to explore this apparent attraction between us,” he said confidently.
