The Billionaire's Package (Thirsty Thursday Book 1)

by Autumn, Kyle

  I twirl one finger around in a circle, giving her a “turn around” motion, so I can see the rest of this killer dress. And it’s just what I hoped. Backless, almost down to her firm, round ass. When she peeks over her shoulder and brushes her curls off her neck, my mouth goes desert dry. Even though she’s clearly uncomfortable in something so fancy, her body wears that dress like she was born to. Like this dress was made for her and her alone.

  “That’s the one,” I tell her, one hundred percent sure. Then I remember who I’m talking to and clear my throat. “I mean, what do you think?”

  ***

  Shiree

  Aww. He remembered. I can’t help but feel mushy about that. Because this man is so handsome, so sexy, and so irresistible. I want him to remember what I like, but I need to remember that he’s only in this for business.

  I shouldn’t have gotten lost in that kiss. I shouldn’t have wrapped my arms around his neck. I shouldn’t have let him know how much I enjoyed feeling his lips on mine, his arms around my back and on my shoulders. I just shouldn’t with him.

  But god, how I want to. It’s sinful how much I want to. Even though I’m furious with this whole thing.

  Furious with lust, apparently. Whatever.

  Focus. How do I feel about this dress? I mean, it’s exquisite. The material glides across my skin and hugs my body like a second skin. The color is gorgeous, seemingly one of a kind. And the cut and the shape complement me well. I think he’s right about this being the one, but…

  “It depends on how much it costs,” I tell him as I face him.

  He crosses his arms over his chest. “We went over this, Shiree. And I’m not asking you this time. I already said I’m covering the cost of this.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I say, heading back for the dressing room. I have to get out of this dress before I ruin it.

  You know. Because of my drenched panties and all.

  Inside the dressing room, I start to remove the dress. Even though I’ve made a show of hating his demanding tone, it’s growing on me. It’s who he is, and no one should have to change to be with someone. Unless they’re an asshole. Then that has to go. But he doesn’t demand things to be an asshole. It’s the way he’s adapted to his world, which is one hundred percent different than mine. And that’s okay.

  I’ll still show him how he can adapt to my world though. Because I don’t exactly love being told what to do, but it is nice to have the pressure taken off me.

  Wait. None of this is real. I don’t need to think about how to make him adapt to my world if this is going to end. All he needs is a fake fiancée this weekend so he can show his company that he’s changing. I’m simply the convenient fake fiancée in this equation. And I need to remember that.

  But all thoughts of “fake” and “convenient” are wiped clean from my brain when the curtain to my dressing room flies open while my dress is just past my butt.

  “Hey!” I shout over my shoulder, but it’s unnecessary.

  Chaz swiftly closes the curtain and puts a finger to his lips. Then he’s on me in a flash of a second. Holding me tight to him, his lips at my ear. And his hard cock pressed against my backside.

  “You screamed my name this morning, but do you think you can keep quiet now, hmm?”

  Well, that was a question, so I’m going with it. At least, that’s what I tell myself. Because holy shit, this man turns me on. My entire body is thrumming with sexy energy. That dress made me feel sexy, he’s making me feel sexy, so…we should be sexy together, right? In a dressing room at a fancy dress shop, with nothing but a curtain separating us from Candy and her beverage offers?

  Yep. We should. So I nod. Because, if this is going to end in a week, I need to get my fill.

  He releases my middle, and the dress drops to the floor. Then his thumbs are hooked into my panties and he pulls them down to the ground. Once I’ve stepped out of them, he presses me forward until I’m splayed out against the mirror on the wall. The noise of him undoing his belt spurs me on, and a small moan escapes my lips as heat builds in my stomach and an ache pools in my core.

  But I’m supposed to be quiet, so he covers my mouth with his hand.

  “Someone’s a naughty girl,” he whispers near my ear. Then he runs a finger down my butt, straight to my dripping pussy. “For someone so wet and ready for me, I thought she’d play by the rules.” He thrusts a finger inside me, in and out, in and out, sliding his other hand around my front and to my clit. The pressure there has me ready to blast off into outer space. But then he pulls both hands free. “But I can just go if you can’t—”

  I violently shake my head and stick my butt back into him so he’ll keep going. He doesn’t right away, so I grab his hand and put it back on my clit. When he starts moving his finger again, I clamp my lips shut so no other noises fly out. Then he grinds his hard cock against my ass as he thrusts two fingers in me this time.

  In and out, in and out. Circles on my clit. A relentless rhythm my body becomes mush over. Vaguely, I’m aware of the hand and cheek prints I’m leaving on the glass. A thin layer of sweat covers my body, and now, the moisture is on the mirror too. Which causes me to catch my reflection, and what I see looking back at me—my flushed cheeks, lust in my gaze, my curls bouncing as he works my body over—sends a thrill through my veins. Plus, the idea that anyone can walk through that curtain has an erotic buzz thrumming through me. Within seconds, a mind-blowing, out-of-this-world orgasm washes over me, and my knees buckle under me.

  No one’s ever played my body so well. Granted, I haven’t given too many men the time of day to try it. But, as I come back down to Earth and catch Chaz’s lust-filled gaze in the mirror, I start to believe I don’t want anyone else to ever try. He knows my body better than even I do. And that’s not something you pass up in this world. It just isn’t.

  “That’s my girl,” he says as I go limp in his arms.

  And all I can think is, I like the sound of that.

  Chapter 10

  Chaz

  I carry the bag with her dress out the door of the shop and signal for the valet to get her vehicle. When he’s pulled it around, I palm the keys before she can and slide into the driver’s seat. She gives me a what the fuck? look through the passenger’s side window, her hands on her hips, but she’s too weak from that incredible orgasm I gave her ten minutes ago.

  “Don’t give me that look,” I tell her when she opens the door. “Do I need to remind you about what just happened in there? I’m taking you back to my place so we can even the score.”

  As she exhales, her face turns bright red. But her lips twitch into a smile, and that makes my dick twitch again. I can’t help it. She’s a goddess among mortals, and I intend to let her know what I think. With my body. Inside her body.

  With a huff, she collapses into the passenger’s seat, crossing her arms over her chest. But she finally gives in and says, “Oh whatever. I can’t even fake like I don’t want that.” Then she smirks and looks out the window while I drive us to my place.

  It isn’t far from the dress shop. The “fancy” part of town is clustered together for the most part, the exception being the downtown area, where Launchpad Systems is. So the seven-minute drive goes by with my hand on her thigh as I stroke close to her pussy, keeping her on the edge, turned on just enough that she’ll be ready to go as soon as I get our clothes off. And her short, panting breaths come close to steaming the windows up. She’s so irresistible.

  However, when we arrive at the gate to my community, it’s not enough to keep her astonishment at my extravagant lifestyle under wraps. It’s even worse when we pull into my driveway and up to my house. Her jaw is on the floor of her car, and her eyes are wide open, staring at my house.

  “You live here?” she asks, incredulous.

  “Yes. This is my home.”

  “This is not a home,” she sneers. “This is practically a museum!” She points at my house like I’ve never seen it before.

  “Well, I promis
e you can sit on the couches,” I tell her, opening the car door.

  “You have more than one?” she cries.

  I won’t tell her that I have five. At least, I think I have that many. At least that many. Anyway.

  I get out of the car and walk up the steps to the door. As I unlock it, I look back over my shoulder. She’s only just stepping out of her vehicle, gazing around the place like she’s never seen anything like it. And she probably hasn’t. But I’m here to show her that it’s not all bad. Or not as bad as she thinks it is.

  Hopefully, in the end, she’ll want it to be her life too. Or I might end up giving it all away to have a life with her. I’m almost ready to do whatever it takes. Almost though. I need to be sure she’s ready to accept me. And she will be. I won’t rush it.

  Okay, maybe I will a little. I’m not used to not getting what I want. I used to be able to demand women to bend to my will. But not with Shiree. She’s her own person. Her own identity. Which is what makes her so special. Which is why I’m so drawn to her. She’s everything I’ve never had and everything I didn’t realize I wanted and needed. So I’ll have her. One way or another.

  Starting with right now. In my bed. With no clothes on.

  So, as soon as I’ve opened the door, I turn my back to it, head over to her, and literally sweep her off her feet. I carry her over the threshold like she’s my bride—and, if I have it my way, she really will be—and march straight up the stairs to my bedroom. All the while, she runs through a gamut of emotions. Pissed that I’ve rushed her and picked her up. Awe over the size of my home. And obviously turned on by the time I get to the top of the stairs. She knows what’s about to happen. We both do, and her body is vibrating with the possibilities. Or maybe that’s mine. Either way.

  My bedroom door is already open, so I walk through the doorway and toss her onto my king-size bed. With her small frame on there, I wonder why I ever thought I needed a bed so big. Many a lonely night has been spent on this bed, not one of them with a woman by my side. No, I saved that for one of the spare rooms in my home. And the women rarely complained. After all, they got my company—what was there to complain about?

  “Why are you staring at me that way?” Shiree asks me.

  “I don’t know how I’m staring at you right now,” I answer.

  “Like you’re…” She hesitates, sighs, and covers her face with her hand. “I don’t know. You look thoughtful. What’s up?”

  “I was thinking,” I tell her. “Specifically, I was thinking about how I’ve never had any woman in my bed before.” Then I stalk toward her, ready to change that fact. Because no other woman would have looked as exquisite in it as she does right now.

  She gasps when I reach her. Probably because I hover over her and then pin her hands above her head. And kiss her like our lives depend on the kiss. She grinds against me, seeking friction for her sweet clit. But I meant what I said. This one is going to be about me. Then I’ll take care of her. Again. The way I will forever, if she’ll let me.

  I press her against the bed and slip one hand up her dress to peel her panties off. But, to my surprise, she’s already bare. Which shocks me and makes me pause our bruising kiss.

  “Oooh. Naughty girl,” I growl at her.

  She raises an eyebrow at me. “I thought you might like that.”

  “I always will,” I promise, intensely staring at her.

  Now, she pauses for a second. Then she tugs her dress up, so I stand and remove my clothes before reaching for the drawer in my nightstand for a condom.

  “Mmmm,” she moans as I roll the condom on.

  “That’s right, baby.” I climb back over her and kiss her hard. “Make as much noise as you want,” I tell her right before I slam inside her.

  Her tight heat wraps around me, and I’m like a man possessed. Her sensual sexiness consumes me as she pants and moans. My head’s spinning, and I’m dizzy like I’m drunk. Drunk on everything that is Shiree James. When I’ve already pulled out and pushed back in a few times, I keep myself buried to the hilt and try to gather myself before I blow my load too early.

  “Come for me,” she breathes, squeezing me with her pussy and cupping my cheeks.

  So I do. Hard. Blinding light flashes behind my closed eyelids, and I have to strain to keep myself up so I don’t collapse on top of her. Then she rakes her short nails over my shoulders and down my arms, and I almost can’t help myself. I fall to my forearms, resting on them while she traces patterns on my skin.

  ***

  Shiree

  “I didn’t mean to do that, but you feel so fucking good,” he whispers against her lips.

  I smile and giggle a little, squeezing him with my core again. “I do what I can. And I owed ya one.”

  He kisses down my jaw and over my chin. “You’re amazing. You don’t ever owe me anything.”

  His words freeze me. I was only playing around, but considering what happened at the dress shop—that fucking incredible orgasm he gave me—I didn’t mind him taking what he needed from me. Which actually isn’t usual for me. Not with a man, anyway. I realize now that I’ve had walls built up around me, and I feel ready to let them down. But only for the night. They’ll go right back up in the morning.

  For now, though, I’m going to enjoy this sexy man’s company. In his bed. Where another woman has apparently never been. That means something, right? It might. I don’t want to think about it right now though. Because this sexy man is still very hard and very ready to go again with me.

  “Well, someone has to do something about this,” I say, taking his rock-hard cock in my hand.

  “I’ll take the condom off,” he says before kissing my neck. “I’ll be right back.” Then he takes off to the en suite bathroom.

  I stare at his ass as he goes. His delicious, scrumptious ass. I’m a lucky girl tonight.

  When he gets back, he crawls back over me. And then works his way down. All the way down to my tingling clit. He flicks it with his tongue and then makes eye contact with me. I’m propped up on my elbows, so I look down at him and hold his gaze. But barely because each pass of his tongue sends lightning through my veins.

  My thighs twitch every time he makes contact, and my breathing speeds up until only shallow breaths make it past my lips. The moment my orgasm is about to explode through me, he pauses, his tongue flat on my core before he removes it completely.

  “Have I told you how sweet you taste?” he asks like he has all the time in the world.

  I let out a long sigh that comes out more like a groan. “You could tell me by getting me off.”

  He cracks a smirk and then sucks my clit until the world falls away and my release detonates, shooting sparks of ecstasy from my head to my toes.

  By the time I’ve come back down to Earth, he has an arm wrapped around my middle and his face nestled close to my neck. With a small peck on my bare skin, he says, “Goodnight,” but my eyelids are already fluttering closed.

  ~~~

  A deep sigh leaves my lips the next morning. I’m entangled in Chaz’s arms, his warmth surrounding me with comfort. Sunday mornings are meant for sleeping in with a loved one, relaxing in their company. I’ve never had a loved one to share a Sunday morning with, but I can already see how addicting they can be.

  Yet I have to remember that I shouldn’t get used to this. This—we—will be over by Friday night. This is the first and only Sunday morning we’ll have together though, so I might as well take advantage. That means snuggling deeper into his embrace and enjoying the moment.

  His exhale tickles my neck before he says, “Good morning,” against my skin. A grin stretches his lips, which I feel on my neck.

  A similar smile breaks out on my face too. I can’t even stop it from happening. And I don’t know what that says about me or this situation, but I push that down and don’t think about it too hard. Even if this will be over on Friday, I work the rest of the week. So I won’t have much time to put any thought to it anyhow. That will help m
e forget all of this faster.

  “A guy could get used to this,” he says quietly near my shoulder, tightening his grip on me.

  My stomach quivers in that happy, butterfly way against my will, but I push that down too. And use sarcasm to deflect the whole thing. “You’re telling me you’re not used to waking up next to a woman?”

  He goes still behind me. “Well, no. Not really.” He pauses. “Definitely not this late in the morning. And certainly not on purpose.” Then he places a kiss on my shoulder. “I’d make breakfast, but I haven’t done that in a long time, either.”

  It’s not that I don’t believe him. He’s rich enough not to need to cook for himself or waste time with someone he doesn’t want to spend the night with. Money can buy him a lot of things. But he is here with me now. Waking up next to me. Wanting to cook breakfast. Even if money can buy a lot of things, it can’t buy true feelings. It can’t buy the comfort of a genuine, good relationship. We don’t necessarily have that, but I can see the appeal.

  We shouldn’t delude ourselves though. Our worlds are so different. Too different. And this is just for show.

  “I’m pretty sure you can put bread in the toaster and spread some peanut butter on it, yeah?”

  “I most definitely am capable of that type of breakfast. Coming right up,” he says and then hops out of bed, snagging his boxer briefs off the floor as he goes.

  I’m stunned speechless. This whole for-show thing feels like it’s more in my head than reality, but that doesn’t make sense. The board of his company isn’t going to check up on us to see if we’re a real couple, are they? Are we going to quiz each other on facts about our pasts? Our favorites and the like? He doesn’t have to act interested. It’s going to crush my heart even more when this ends.

  I amble to the bathroom, my head full of confusion as I pick my clothes up off the floor. Once I relieve my bladder and get dressed, I need to get out of here. I don’t see this ending well if I stay, so I should tell him that we’ll just see each other on Friday and then go home. Yes. That’s exactly what I should do.