Temptation (Billionaire Venture Capitalist #4): A Second Chance Billionaire Romance

by Ainsley St Claire

  What a fantastic view.

  “Make me come, Andy. Please. I need you to make this aching stop.”

  “Ride me, baby,” I say, my voice hoarse. “Ride me hard.”

  She rises to her knees and takes me in her hand, wrapping her fingers around my girth. I lift her higher and align my aching cock with her entrance. The smell of sex in the air permeates everything.

  I’m desperate and cede her the control she needs, even if that control is false.

  “Fuck,” I groan as she lowers herself onto me. She’s tight, and I worry it may be too much for her. My fingers press into her hips so hard, she may have bruises tomorrow, but she just gives me that lazy smile as she watches every second of what she does to me.

  Looking into my eyes, she takes me deeper. I blow out a heavy rush of air that I suck in as she glides up and down, allowing me to go even deeper. I have a big dick, and in this position, it must be almost painful for her.

  She pushes through the pinch of pain I see on her brow, her pussy clenching my cock like a vise. Leaning back, her hands on my thighs behind her, she arches her spine. The position has her seated with her ass resting nearly on my balls.

  “Christ. Slow down, Greer.” The unspoken threat of what would happen if she continues at this pace hangs in the air, but she continues her assault, rocking her hips back and forth, round and round. The tension in my face drives her on while begging me to lose control. She rides me hard, her firm breasts bouncing up and down with each rise and fall. I want to reach for her erect nipples and play with them, but I hold on to her hips to control her pace. A sweat sheen covers her skin, and her thighs shake with anticipation as she positions so her clit has maximum contact. Wanting to help her come, I rub circles against her clit with my thumb, her hips following in unison. Her breathing comes in short, staccato bursts, and a moan escapes me as her orgasm grabs my cock. I can’t take it much longer.

  “Fuck.” I grit my teeth. “I’m gonna come.”

  She lies down on me once we’ve finished, her ear to my heart. We don’t talk, both panting heavily. She eventually rolls off me. “Good morning to you, too.”

  “You’re amazing,” I tell her as she caresses my chest hair. Finally, my breathing becomes close to normal. “Would you like some breakfast?”

  Still struggling for her breath, she says, “Just coffee, please.”

  I get up and wander naked into my kitchen. The light’s breaking and there’s already activity outside; as my workers have arrived and are starting their grueling work for the day.

  I hear the water in the shower start, and it takes all my energy and effort to not go in and help her soap up. I can save that for another time.

  When she emerges from the bathroom, I can smell my soap on her. She’s positively beautiful. Her hair is damp, she isn’t wearing any makeup, and she’s dressed in tight jeans and one of my shirts with the sleeves rolled up. She’s absolutely sexy, and I’m completely mesmerized.

  She takes a deep inhale of the coffee and thanks me for the piping-hot beverage. “I’d better get over to my mom’s. My hope is to get it picked up enough that a housekeeper can come in and give it a good cleaning.”

  “Will you be staying again tonight?” I’m trying not to be too eager, but I want to see more of her. Forget this starting-my-vineyard excuse. I’m crazy about her, and I want to explore where we can take this.

  “It depends on what the doctor tells me and how far I get with my mother’s house.”

  “I’d like to see you again tonight—that’s if you’re up for it, of course.”

  “I think you’re the one who needs to be ‘up.’” She bites her bottom lip and flutters her eyes before she lets out the most beautiful laugh at her own double entendre.

  I pull her into my arms and kiss her breathless as I press my hard cock into her stomach. “With you, it’s never a problem to be up.”

  I see the conflict in her eyes of wanting another round before she takes in a deep breath and says, “I really would like to see you again tonight, but if the doctor tells me my mom will be a while, I’ll head home. Unfortunately, I need to get back into The City for work.”

  “I understand. I have a lot to do myself.” Before I can mumble some awkward goodbye, I pull her gently to me. My mouth opens in surprise as her warm lips press against mine, my hand closing around the back of her neck. The kiss is exploratory and soft, but it’s also all-consuming and heavy. She lets out a little moan of pleasure, and my cock immediately responds, ready to go again. I’m into this kiss way more than is rational.

  In an instant, her arms are around my neck, and I’m getting as good as I’m giving, finally coming up for air when she gracefully breaks us apart. Her breathing is ragged, her eyes glazed, giving me a little sense of satisfaction that the kiss rattled her as much as it did me.

  “I’ll see you soon,” I tell her, my voice low and husky as I press a final chaste kiss to her lips before stepping away. “Thank you again for a fun night.”

  Running after her and begging her to stay crosses my mind. I haven’t felt like this about any woman in a very long time.

  Replaying our conversation in my mind and picturing the look of ecstasy when she came make my dick hard again. It was glorious, but I need to work and get my mind off her or I’ll turn into a stalker.

  It’s been three fucking days since our night together. Why hasn’t she reached out to set up another date? I’ve been out of the dating game for so long, I think I’ve forgotten how this works. I own a successful vineyard, I’m considered handsome, and I’m single. That combination made me, from what I understood, one hell of a catch, so why isn’t Greer trying very hard to catch me?

  I have to admit, as shallow as it is, I’m more than a little offended by her distance. So offended, in fact, that I send her another text. I sent her one yesterday morning letting her know I was thinking of her and hoped to see her soon. She sent back a thumbs-up emoji.

  I want more from her. She occupies my mind, and I can’t concentrate on my work.

  Me: When are you coming up to see your mom?

  Greer: I’ve been swamped at work. I’m hoping for this weekend. Are you up for getting together?

  Hell yes. I want to hear her call my name as she comes.

  Me: I’m up whenever I think of you and our night together.

  Rereading my message, I may be laying it on too thick. Now she’ll send me another thumbs-up emoji. Crap!

  Greer: Don’t get me so excited.

  Oh thank God! She took it as flirting. I’m so out of practice with dating and texting. Just the thought of her excited gets my dick hard.

  Me: If it means you’ll come visit me soon, I’ll make sure your excitement is worth your while.

  Greer: There are many things we haven’t done.

  Holy crap! I can think of several, all of which I’d like to explore with her. I don’t know if her on her knees in front of me is more titillating or just being buried deep in her pussy.

  Me: Yes, many things. First on your list?

  Greer: Hmm… you very proficiently tasted me. I would like to do the same.

  Jesus. I think I just came in my pants at the thought of her mouth sucking me dry.

  Me: I like that idea, but only after you’re completely satisfied.

  Greer: I think if we’re counting, I’m ahead.

  I’m not a selfish lover by any means. And I particularly like the way she says my given name when she climaxes. It’s a total rush.

  Me: I don’t think so. Even, maybe, but no such thing as you being ahead.

  Greer: And what about you? What do you want to do?

  CHAPTER TEN

  Greer

  This kind of sexting is completely out of character for me, but he hasn’t left my mind since I left him standing at his door. It took all my willpower to not turn around and go back to have a few more rounds. I didn’t want to return to San Francisco and my work; it’s been so long since I’ve had any fun. We definitely enjoyed
ourselves, and our chemistry is sizzling hot.

  Andy: I want you to come on my tongue over and over again.

  Holy crap. His tongue is magic. What can I say that might get him as horny as he’s making me?

  Me: What would you do if I dipped my nipples in wine?

  Andy: I would lick them clean.

  My body unconsciously clenches. If I wasn’t in an office with all glass windows, I’d call him up and have video sex.

  Me: Whipped cream and chocolate sauce?

  Andy: A pussy sundae is a favorite.

  We’ve come back to his amazing tongue. Looking at my watch, I debate driving to Napa for the night, but I have a big day tomorrow and should be well rested.

  Me: How about from behind?

  Andy: Yes.

  Me: How about in the shower?

  Andy: Yes.

  Me: How about in my mouth?

  Andy: Yes.

  Me: Anything you don’t like?

  Andy: No. With you, I like everything and want to do everything.

  Greer: I think I need to go take care of myself.

  I don’t think. I know.

  Andy: Can I watch?

  Greer: Maybe someday.

  Andy: You should see how hard I am for you right now.

  Greer: If I was there, I would take you in my mouth and make you very happy.

  Andy: You always make me happy.

  Greer: Have a good day. Can we talk tonight?

  Andy: Call me tonight, and we can have some fun.

  I’d love to explore this further with him, but duty calls and I only have a few minutes before a partners meeting in Mason’s office.

  Wandering into the lunchroom, I grab a cup of coffee. I need a moment to cool down, and the small jolt of caffeine will help me make it through this meeting.

  While the Nespresso machine pushes out the dark nectar of the gods, I glance around the pristine room. The leftover breakfast burritos from this morning are nicely plated and covered. They won’t make it past lunch. Every snack you can think of lines the shelves on the wall, and the fridge is full of any drink an employee could want. I grab an apple and my coffee and run into Emerson on my way to the meeting.

  “How’s your mom?” she asks.

  “She’s doing okay. I got her set up at the hospital, and I should know how things are progressing this afternoon.”

  “Let me know if there’s anything I can do. And don’t be shy about taking time off to take care of her. We can lean heavily on the PR agency to cover for you. They’re nowhere near as good, but they’re fine if you need the time.”

  “Thanks. I’m good right now.”

  We take our usual seats and wait for Mason to start. Cameron is talking about his weekend away with Hadlee. They got engaged a few months ago. It was a short courtship, but they’ve known each other for a long time and belong together.

  Cameron is probably my favorite person here. He’s shy, smart as a whip and truly funny. He scares the hell out of most people with his 6’5” muscular body, and he has some significant tattoos hidden beneath his clothes, which I saw courtesy of his sporting a wifebeater on one occasion. Most of the time though, he wears an untucked dress shirt with the shirtsleeves rolled up, jeans, trendy shoes, and a baseball cap.

  “Hadlee’s face at the biker bar was priceless. They had no idea what was coming at them. This guy named Big cut himself, and she went into full doctor mode. I had to pull her out of there or she’d still be doctoring their wounds.”

  Everyone is chuckling when Mason walks in with Jim, our private investigator.

  “Sorry we’re late,” Mason says. Both men take their seats, and Mason asks about various projects going on. Each of us is responsible for a few specific parts of the company, but ultimately Mason, Cameron, and Dillon run the show around here.

  Mason turns to me. “How are things going at Visionaire?”

  “They’re on track. We’re working through the profiles of the founders for the press packets. Tom Sutterland and his VP of Marketing of PeopleMover are heading to DC to testify on the Hill about social media impacts later this week, and I’m working on talking points with them.”

  “Do you need to go with them?” Dillon asks.

  “No, I don’t think so. Someone from the PR agency is going to run interference if needed. I can make it work if you think otherwise, but we have most of the questions that should be asked and aren’t expecting any real bombshells.”

  Sara mutters, “Isn’t that when they happen?”

  “Yes, and we’ve watched the questions coming out of the hearings all week. PeopleMover may be the big social media gorilla, but Tom is very low profile, leaving his competitors to fight it out for second.”

  Mason stares at me a moment. “Have a go-bag ready just in case something goes sideways and you need to be on-site to manage the fallout.”

  “Of course.”

  “We have the interviews next week for the Emerging Markets partnership. We have one strong candidate who would buy into the partnership, and someone less experienced who would come in as a director. The decision comes down to who we think is a better match for our team. I’ve put time on everyone’s calendars to meet the candidates. Please don’t waste their time by canceling,” Mason reminds us.

  We go through almost an hour more of our meeting and looking at prospects of who we might bring into our fund.

  Mason finally turns the meeting over to Jim so he can explain why he’s joined us today. “Well, Perkins Klein will shutter and close this week.”

  Cameron is close to one of the founders, but he had a heart attack and is struggling with his health. “What’s the plan?”

  “They’re selling what remains of their investments, mostly to Benchmark, and much of the staff is dispersing.”

  Turning to Emerson, Mason asks, “Are we hiring Quinn?”

  Quinn was Mason’s ex-girlfriend and broke his heart years ago, and he was adamant that he wouldn’t hire her when it was considered long before my time.

  Emerson clears her throat and says, “I’d like to. She’d be an asset to Dillon and Cynthia. But I understand that you’ve been against it in the past.”

  Everyone looks at Mason expectantly. “She was good to us in sharing about how Perkins Klein got our information, but never divulged anything confidential about them. I guess if everyone’s okay with it, then I’m okay.” He adds almost as an afterthought, “But only as a senior analyst. Not a partner.” We all agree, and he asks, “Do we have anyone working for us who at one point worked at Benchmark?”

  Sara speaks up. “I don’t believe so. We’ve often shied away from hiring people from competitors since our business model’s so different.”

  As the meeting continues, my mind drifts to Andy. I’d love to lie in his arms and enjoy a few days away, but his job is crazy and so is mine. Plus we live over ninety minutes away from one another when there isn’t any traffic—and there’s always traffic. I’m just going to have fun and enjoy this for now, no expectations.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Andy

  This inventory count isn’t adding up. I know we’re running out of storage space, but why can’t we find these barrels? It’s not as if they could’ve walked out on their own, so they must be here somewhere.

  I run through the numbers again just to make sure, but we’re definitely short forty-one barrels. This makes no sense.

  My cell phone pings, and my heart beats faster. There’s only one person who would text me at this hour.

  Greer: Hey there. Up for dinner tomorrow night? I know it’s last minute.

  She’s coming up. I was going to work late and try to find these missing barrels, but hanging out with Greer sounds like much more fun.

  Me: Ciao, bella mia. I’ll cancel my plans to be with you.

  Greer: Don’t do that. I’ll be back.

  This isn’t a difficult decision. I’d much rather spend time with Greer than get grubby crawling around in the dark corners of the warehouse
looking for the missing barrels.

  Me: My plans are to go through inventory. You’re much more exciting than counting wine.

  Greer: If you’re sure. Where do you want to go?

  My cock stirs in my pants. I’d certainly prefer to see her in my bed and naked.

  Me: My place?

  Greer: I’m sure at some point naked and begging will happen, but how about a restaurant?

  I’m already begging. I hate to be too obvious, but then again. I’m not surprised. Maybe a little bit disappointed.

  Me: Casual okay?

  Greer: Casual is perfect.

  Me: Come here and we can head out to this great place a friend owns. He runs a farm-to-table restaurant out of his barn. I’ll see if he can make room for us tomorrow.

  Greer: Perfect. I should be at the villa about 6.

  Me: I’ll make sure you come at least six times. Maybe more. Arrive when you can.

  Greer: I’m meeting with my mother's doctor at 4 and will come by after.

  Me: Can’t wait.

  I need to call Philippe and see if he can make room for us tomorrow night. If not, I’ll have to come up with a second-choice spot.

  Greer: Me either.

  Greer’s never far from my mind. I’m excited to see her and want to know everything I can about her. She’s a wonderful distraction, but I need to concentrate on why my numbers aren’t adding up. I have less than a month before I go to Italy to figure this out. I’ve looked four separate times. Maybe if I give this to someone on my team, they can see where I’m going wrong?

  Getting up from my desk, I stretch. My parents are hosting this quarter’s meeting at Bellissima Grande, which is in the Tuscan valley. We’ll come in from all over the world to discuss Bellissima with the family. There’s a lot of pressure on me and the US market, not to mention my mom’s insistence for me to couple up.

  My mother is really putting the pressure on me to bring someone home to the meeting. She’s never been like this before, but now each time we talk, she wants to know if I asked her to come yet. How does my mother know about Greer?