My Boss, the Billionaire (The Billionaire Kings Book 2)

by Serenity Woods

  Did Angela dance for him? The thought makes me grit my teeth. I’ve never met her, but I despise her with the heat of a thousand suns. She’s the worst kind of woman, the sort who plays with men as if they’re her own personal sex toys.

  I don’t care if she has danced for him before. She hasn’t danced the way I can dance.

  The song changes to Beyoncé’s Crazy In Love, and I finally move around to the side of the bed and hold out my hand. Leon’s lips curve up, and he passes me the glass of whisky. I finish it off and lick my lips, place it on the bedside table, and hold my hand out again. He takes it and rises, letting me lead him to the chair. I turn him and push him down, and he sits, amused, but obviously unsure where this is going.

  He tries to touch me, but I tut and shake my finger at him. He slides his thumbs through his belt loops and leans back, giving me a wry, somewhat sulky look as I swing my hips in front of him and begin his private lap dance.

  Sinking my hands into my hair, I turn and sway, dip and twist in front of him. Tension mounts in the air as we both grow more aroused. I want to kiss him, and my body burns to have his hands on my skin, but I make us both wait. I slide my fingers down my sides and over my thighs, then draw them up the inside, shivering as they brush my panties. I cup my breasts and move up close to him, shimmying my shoulders, and I’m rewarded with a dark-eyed glare that promises he’s going to make me pay for this when I’m done.

  The thought makes me hot—what’s he going to do to me? Oh Jesus, I’m so turned on right now.

  Still, I make us wait. The song changes once again to Lady Marmalade, and I mouth the French words as I move behind him, my breath whispering over his ear. Do you want to sleep with me tonight?

  I move in front of him—he hasn’t shifted, but I can tell he’s close to ending this. Any moment now he’s going to toss me on the bed and screw me senseless.

  “Time for the finale,” I say, turning my back on him. I pause then, and add, “I haven’t done this before, Leon.” Slowly, still moving to the music, I unclip my bra strap and begin to remove it.

  I slide the straps down my arms, then turn, the cups still pressed to my breasts, before finally removing the bra and tossing it at him. It lands on his head, and he laughs and removes it, letting it slip to the floor. Hooking my thumbs in the elastic of my panties, I keep them there for a moment as I continue to dance, letting him admire my breasts and the way they move for a while, before eventually turning away and sliding my panties down my legs. I make sure to give plenty of wiggles of my butt before I step out of the panties and toss them to him.

  He catches them, presses them to his nose, and inhales.

  “Leon! Jeez.” I roll my eyes, but I’m as turned on as he is. I want to feel him, I want to taste him. Keeping on the thigh-highs and heels, I sink slowly to my knees before him.

  He stills, his smirk fading as he watches me undo his belt. I keep my gaze on his as I undo the button of his jeans, then carefully slide the zipper down, my heart rate increasing at the intense desire in his eyes. I lift the elastic of his boxers over his erection so it springs free, and only then do I drop my gaze.

  I lick my palm from the heel and then up to the tip of my fingers, close my hand around him, and stroke up the shaft. Man, he’s hard, big and thick, and he swells in my hand, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths, his lips parting. When I lower my head and close my mouth over the tip, he lifts both hands and sinks them into his hair as he tips his head back and groans.

  Mmm, he smells of warm male and sex, and he tastes divine. I explore with my lips and tongue, still stroking him, then take him inside my mouth and slide my lips down while I suck. I feel his hand slip into my hair, cupping my head, providing gentle pressure and encouraging me to take him deeper, and I do, as deep as I can, until he curses and clenches his fingers in my hair.

  I want him to come, I want him to fill my mouth with his salty fluid, but after only a minute or so he takes me by the shoulders and gently lifts me off him.

  “Aw,” I say, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, “spoilsport. I was enjoying that.”

  He doesn’t reply. He takes his wallet out of his back pocket, extracts a condom, and tosses the wallet aside. After tearing off the wrapper, he rolls the condom on, then he pulls me toward him so I straddle him on the chair. He drops a hand between us and slides his thumb down into my folds, but I don’t need him to check—I know I’m wet and ready for him. Keeping my eyes on his, I move until I feel him penetrate me, and then I sink down onto him.

  “Aaahhh…” He leans his head on the back of the chair.

  “Mmm.” That feels good. This is a great position; I can feel him all the way up inside me, thick and hard. I begin to rock my hips, lowering my mouth to his. We kiss, long and luxurious, our tongues entwining, while he skates his hands over my skin, up my back, around my ribs, over my waist and up to my breasts. He brushes his thumbs across my nipples, and I arch my back as he drops his mouth to one, letting him suck them until they tighten. I clench my hands in his hair, encouraging him to suck harder, and he does, until I cry out with pleasure.

  I kiss him again, and this time heat sears through me. His mouth claims mine, demanding, his tongue plunging inside, wanting more, and I feel myself spinning out of control, my body attuning to his, like a top being whipped until it’s spinning so fast it can barely be seen.

  “Leon,” I whisper against his lips, rocking faster, wanting to reach the peak of the mountain I can see ahead of me. “Oh God… I need you…”

  But then, to my surprise he clasps my hips, stopping me from moving, and before I can say anything he rises to his feet, holding me tightly. He’s still inside me, and I gasp and clutch at him.

  “My pace,” he says, “not yours.” His eyes are a deep blue in the semi-darkness.

  “Fair enough,” I reply, kicking off my shoes.

  He walks over to the lamp and turns it out, and then he carries me across to the window seat. It’s long enough to lie down on with a long, padded cushion over the wood. He withdraws for a moment, lays me carefully down on it, and climbs on beside me. We’re lying on our sides, me with my back to the window. He lifts my leg over his hip, moves up close, and enters me again.

  I look over my shoulder at the waves crashing on the rocks—that’s an image to illustrate my approaching climax if ever I’ve seen one. It’s dark out there, and coldly beautiful, but in here it’s warm and Leon’s hard inside me, and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier before in my life.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Leon

  There’s not a lot of room on the window seat and not much space to move, but I don’t mind that. It means we have to press up close. I lift her stocking-clad thigh over me, move my erection beneath her until I feel the tip part her folds, and then I slide easily inside her.

  She sighs. Her blonde hair is splayed out across the cushion, and her lips are now clear of gloss and a little puffy where she’s had her mouth around me. Fuck, that’s hot. Her sultry eyes survey me with desire. I run a hand up her thigh to the pale, soft skin above the stocking.

  Keeping my gaze on hers, I begin to move.

  Having her astride me on the chair was amazing, but I need to keep control of the pace, and I want to look into her eyes like this. I’ve slept with a few women in my time, but I know this is different. When I look at Nicola, I feel a tug inside me that’s not connected to my groin. Or at least, it’s not only centered there. I’m also connected to her higher up, in my heart. I can no longer fight it.

  I’m in love with her. Me, in love! Albie’s going to crack up. I want to laugh, too, but it’s not funny at all. She’s captivated me completely. Any notion of not being with her is now pure foolishness. I want this girl in my heart, in my life. If only she didn’t work for me. Why does everything have to be so fucking complicated?

  I pull my mind away, like tugging Wishbone from a blade of grass he’s been sniffing for fifteen minutes. I’m not going to think of the fu
ture now. I want to concentrate on the present, on how it feels to be inside her, encased in her heat. Her exercise keeps her tight, although she’s now well lubricated, and I slide easily into her.

  I look into her eyes, seeing the glitter of the stars in her pupils. I can just hear the crash of the waves on the rocks, and it fires me up, as if the ocean’s in my blood, surging around my body.

  But I force myself to go slow. We kiss, our tongues tangling lazily, and I stroke her back, her hips, up to her breasts, and play with them gently, not wanting to push her over the edge too soon. It’s a form of heaven, this languid ascent to bliss. She doesn’t complain when I slow the thrust of my hips, and I know she’s enjoying drawing it out, just being together in this intimate way.

  I slide a hand into her hair, feeling it curl around my fingers, careful to avoid the spot where she injured herself. That could have ended so badly… I tighten my other arm around her and deepen my kiss, wanting to show her what she means to me, how I feel.

  I’m losing it, and I don’t want to, I want this to last forever, but even I can’t last that long. Her eyelids flutter open and she murmurs, “Mmm, Leon, I’m so close…” She looks dazed, her cheeks flushed, and I’m moving so easily inside her that I can tell how turned on she is.

  I slow a little more, and she looks up at me as, together, we draw out the moment, coasting, not driving, and the whole world is in this room, in this moment, just Nicola and me, her soft body, that beautiful, sweet part of her that sucks me in and refuses to let go each time I move. Oh Jesus, it feels so good, and I can feel my climax begin, deep inside, the tightening of each muscle, warm and blissful, almost painful in its intensity.

  “Oh,” she says, and I know she’s feeling it too, and we look into each other’s eyes as we come, as our bodies tense and pulse, as we join and lock in harmony. I know she can see every ounce of pleasure rippling through me, every fragment of ecstasy, just as I can see it in her gray eyes and feel it in the way she clenches around me. We both exhale, our breaths mingling, and my arms are tight around her, and hers around me. Right now, at this moment, she belongs to me, and I surprise myself with the savage satisfaction I feel at that.

  Then our muscles relax, and we go limp on the seat with a long groan. Her wide gray eyes glisten.

  “I didn’t hurt you?” I kiss her jaw, her nose, her brow.

  “No.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m fine. Squished, but fine.”

  “Yeah, there’s not a lot of room, sorry about that.”

  “It wasn’t a complaint.”

  I kiss her again, then withdraw and help her up. “Let’s get more comfortable.”

  We cross to the bed, and we both take off our remaining clothing before sliding beneath the soft white duvet. I pull her into my arms, and she curls up against me, soft and warm.

  “Mmm,” she murmurs. “I enjoyed that.”

  I kiss her hair. “I’m glad.”

  “I like your pace.”

  “Me too.”

  “I quite like my pace as well.”

  I laugh. “We’ll go your pace next time.”

  She moves back a little and looks at me. “You mean in the morning?”

  I don’t say anything for a moment. Usually I’d resort to humor at this point, joke that if she wanted another go tonight I might need a few minutes. But I know what she’s asking.

  “The morning,” I say. “And when we get back, if we can work it out.”

  We study each other for a while.

  “You want to see me again?” she asks eventually.

  “Yes,” I reply simply.

  She sucks her bottom lip. “But not while I work with you.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t, honey,” I say softly. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know. It’s okay. I don’t blame you.”

  She rests her head on my shoulder and her hand on my chest, her fingers playing with the hairs there. I stroke down her spine, and check, “Do you want to see me again?”

  “I do. Of course I do. I’ll miss the Ark, that’s all, if I have to leave.”

  I feel a twist of guilt—it’s not fair to make her give up a job she loves for me. “Maybe I should look into moving somewhere else. Get a management job at another charity or something.” There’s no reason I can’t leave, I’m not bound to the Ark. But I feel a hollowness inside at the thought of leaving behind all the hard work I’ve put in over the last five years.

  But Nicola says, “Leon, don’t be daft. You’re a part of the Ark—you couldn’t possibly leave.” She smiles. “But I appreciate you saying it.”

  “Maybe we can get you something else there,” I suggest.

  She thinks about it. “I can’t work in the veterinary center as I’m not a vet nurse. Now Remy’s there they don’t need anyone else in the grooming center.”

  “Maybe the hotel,” I suggest, although we both know they’re fully staffed and have a waiting list. The new petting farm is also fully staffed. She could possibly work in IT with Albie, but I don’t want that. Even though I know his declaration that he likes her was a setup, Albie’s young, good looking, and he has more than the regular amount of King charm, and I don’t want them working together.

  “I could mow the lawns,” she says. Her lips twist with a hint of humor, but we both know she’ll be wasted doing anything other than running an office with her excellent organizational abilities.

  “We’ll think about it,” I tell her, although at the moment I can’t imagine a solution.

  “It’ll be easier if I leave and get a job elsewhere,” she admits. “Maybe at another company in Paihia, or in Kerikeri.”

  “Maybe.” It means I’d see her the same way other couples see each other, in the evenings for a few hours before bed, and weekends when I’m not working.

  I won’t see her all day every day. She won’t bring me my coffee, or sit there teasing me because I can’t use PowerPoint. I won’t be able to walk past her desk just to see her smile at me.

  Fuck.

  “Don’t think about it now,” I say, as much to myself as to her. “Let’s just enjoy the moment.”

  She snuggles against me again. “Okay.”

  There’s a wistfulness in the word though, unless I’m imagining it. It’s an impossible situation. I want it all, I want her and my PA, but this is the real world and reality means sacrifice and making tough decisions. I’ve learned that well enough over the years.

  “I hate her,” she mumbles.

  “Who?”

  “Angela. For spoiling you.”

  I curl her hair around my fingers, looking out into the darkness. I hate her too, sometimes, although I’m ashamed of that emotion. As the man, I feel it’s wrong to put the blame on the woman. Deep down, I think I knew she was in a relationship, but I refused to talk about it or ask her about it, because I didn’t want to know the answer. I knew what I was doing. I knew we were having an affair.

  But, if I’m honest, I didn’t understand the implications of that. How can you, at twenty? I had no idea what it was like to be in a long-term relationship, and I couldn’t begin to understand how it felt to have a partner you love cheat on you. The news of our affair must have wounded her husband badly. And as for their kids… I wonder whether she ever went back to them. Or was the damage done?

  She knew what she was doing, too. She seduced me, even though I would never say that to anyone because it makes me look weak. She wanted me, and she purposely didn’t tell me about her family because she didn’t want it to affect my decision to have an affair. She knew she was attractive, and that I’d find her knowledge and experience irresistible.

  So yes, I hate her a little, too. I wish I didn’t, but I’m only human.

  After my father called the police when she broke the window in his house in Russell, I only heard from her once more. It was a letter—an old-fashioned written one, not an email. I glanced through it, saw bitterness and accusations without an ounce of regret for her ac
tions, and I threw it away. I never told anyone about it. I was relieved it was over.

  I never loved her. I didn’t feel a fraction of what I feel for the woman in my arms, even though Nicola and I have only slept together a few times.

  I love her. It’s a new realization, one I’m going to have to think about for a while. I’m not sure how it changes things, or what it will mean for the future. All I do know is that I can’t go back. We made the decision to step over the boundary, and it’s done now. I can only go forward.

  I’m tired, and I can feel Nicola slowly relaxing in my arms as sleep overcomes her and her breathing grows deep and even. But I stay awake for a while, listening to the crash of the waves on the rocks in the distance.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Nix

  We land at Bay of Islands airport at eleven the next morning, and a car is waiting to take us over to the Ark.

  We sit in the back together, and Leon holds my hand as the car snakes through the lush green fields to the coast, but we don’t say much. He looks out of the window, and I leave him to his thoughts for a while.

  I’m thrilled he wants to continue to see me, but saddened by the thought that I’m going to have to leave my job. As I stated to him, though, if I have to choose between him and my job, I choose him. But it doesn’t mean I can’t be sad about it.

  When I get to the office, I’ll contact the employment agency and see what’s around.

  It’s a beautiful day, and I know there’s going to be an amazing view at the Ark across the bay. I hope I can find somewhere in Paihia or Kerikeri so I won’t have far to drive to work.

  I glance across at him. This is so new, this relationship. It’s as if we’re looking through a telescope and we’ve seen the glint of a star that nobody’s discovered before. We need to investigate it, to study it and classify it and decide what it is. I know without asking he’s going to want to keep it secret at work, for now at least. There will be no giving each other lustful glances across the boardroom table, no sneaking out for a nooner the way I know Hal and Izzy do. Leon will want to stay strictly professional at work until I leave, and I guess I can cope with that.