by Marie Carnay
But the reporter sailed over his comment like he didn’t exist. “They weren’t required to pay their winning bid until you’d finished the date. Is that right?”
“That’s right.”
“Miranda, tell me, did you feel obligated to do whatever they wanted? If the date didn’t end with mini-golf, just how far did you let it go?”
“I…I…”
Winston sat forward. “Ms. Gilroy, we didn’t come here to delve into personal matters. If you’d like to talk about the charity, our donation, or our three rounds of golf, that’s fine. Anything else is unprofessional and petty, don’t you think?”
“Come now, Mr. Stone. Don’t you think your clients would be interested to know what you do in your spare time? Engaging in lewd acts with your business partner and a woman you paid for seems relevant to me.”
Miranda’s eyes almost popped out of her head. Oh my god. I can’t believe this. Her fingers shook and her heart beat a mile a minute. It was one thing to call her a slut for sleeping with them. But to call into question their business? No way.
No reporter was going to ruin the reputation of two men who’d given her the best sex of her life—whether they wanted a future with her or not. She sat up straight and both men tensed, but she stopped them with a wave of her hand. She’d fix it, even if it meant airing the ugly truth.
“Let me make this clear, Ms. Gilroy. Mr. Waters and Mr. Stone are gentlemen. They treated me with the utmost respect, kindness, and chivalry all date long. For you to insinuate something inappropriate happened—it’s crass and out of line.”
The reporter started to interrupt, but Miranda waved her off. “No. I’m not done. Take a good look at me. I’m a chubby, mousy engineer who doesn’t even own a car. Do you seriously think these two billionaires would want anything more than mini-golf and pizza with a woman like me?”
The reporter’s mouth opened and shut, but no words came out.
“Or did you just bring me up here to embarrass me in front of all of New York? Because you’ve done a bang-up job of that, let me tell you.”
“Well, that’s all the time we have, Ms. Holmes.” The woman contorted her face into a grin and turned to the camera. “After the break, come back to learn how to make a top shelf margarita without a blender.”
As soon as the show went to break, Miranda yanked her mic off, tugged the battery pack out of her dress, and tossed it on the couch. Embarrassment and rage and disappointment all fought within her and she had to get out of there before she made even more of a scene.
She’d find Dawn, drag her away and smother herself in flaky pastry. No way was her friend going on next to talk about her charity after a stunt like that. Hurrying off the set, she pushed open the doors to backstage when James called out. “Miranda, wait.” He rushed forward and took her by the arm. “Don’t leave. I want to talk to you.”
“I can’t, James. I’m sorry. I never should have agreed to this interview.” She tried to turn away, but he wouldn’t release her arm. “Let me go.”
“No. I’m not letting you run out of here thinking we don’t want you.”
“What?” She turned around and blinked back a wave of tears. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you couldn’t be more wrong. Those things you said? That we wouldn’t want a woman like you? It can’t be farther from the truth.”
Miranda swallowed and tried to process his words, but all she could see were the headlines and replays and clips of her embarrassing herself on live TV. She tugged against his grip as Dawn rushed up to her. “Oh my god, Miranda. Are you okay? I can’t believe she would ask those things! I’m so sorry.”
Blood whooshed through Miranda’s veins and the steady beat drowned out her best friend’s concern. The room dimmed, a ringing picked up in her ears and her brain fuzzed like felted wool.
“Miranda? Miranda? Are you okay?”
She shook her head and before she could figure out how to speak, James was ushering her out of the studio and into the parking deck. He piled her into an SUV and in seconds they were pulling out of the exit and away from the train wreck she’d just made of everything.
CHAPTER TWO
THE RANGE ROVER sped down the road and Miranda glanced over at James. He’d taken charge when she could barely breathe and gotten her out of there. Driving through the congested city streets, crossing the Hudson and leaving Manhattan behind. Dragging her away from every panic-inciting television, radio, and internet connection. If she’d stayed in the city, she’d have gone mad wondering what damage she’d caused to her reputation. Not to mention theirs.
Speeding past Nyack and heading into the foothills lessened the fear. The embarrassment. With a deep breath, she turned to James. “Where are we going?”
He glanced over and grinned. “It’s a surprise. We’ll be there soon.”
Miranda smiled back and looked out the window, watching as they traded civilization for trees and car horns for birds.
She still couldn’t wrap her head around how the reporter attacked James and Winston. They’d come on the show as a favor to Dawn and stayed professional despite the reporter’s galling questions. But she’d lost her cool, attacking the woman and shaming her on live TV. God. I can be such an idiot.
James turned off the main road, leaving the pavement for dirt and gravel, and Miranda swallowed. A billionaire who off-roaded. Okay. As thickets of trees and bushes blotted out the sun, she frowned. He couldn’t have a secret axe murderer streak in him. She’d have sensed it, right?
A few minutes later and they pulled into a clearing. James shut off the engine, slipped off his suit jacket and hopped out, walking around to help her down. Her heels squished into the soft grass and she bit her lip. “I’m not really dressed for a hike.”
“It’s all grass. You can take your shoes off.” She slipped them off and he held out his hand. “Come. It’s this way.”
Holding onto James, she walked through the lush turf, letting the blades caress her toes until the trees thinned and James stopped. She glanced up and gasped. From where they stood on the edge of the mountain, the Hudson Valley spread out before them and in the distance, the entire skyline of New York City faded into the horizon. Wow.
“It’s breathtaking.”
“Thanks.”
“We’re not that far from Bear Mountain, are we?”
“Nope. It’s a few more miles. I own a few acres right here. The rest is all state land.”
“This is yours?” She glanced around and marveled.
“Mmm-hmm. When I need to get away from everyone and everything, I come here. There are no buildings, no people. I’m sure hikers think it’s state forest. But it’s mine.”
“Wow.” She didn’t know what to say. When he’d said he wanted to show her somewhere, she expected another decadent apartment or fancy house. Not a plot of earth and blue sky.
“Why did you bring me here?”
James shrugged and for an instant, she could see him as a boy. Goofy and carefree, running through the forest, digging in the mud. “I wanted to take you away from it all. Away from the city with it’s artificial people and tabloid news. You’re better than all of that, Miranda.”
“It’s funny, you’re not what I’d expect from a billionaire.”
James pulled back glanced at the ground. “You mean I’m not like Winston.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No! I mean…Winston is…” She didn’t know how to describe him. Cocky? Arrogant? Sexy as hell? “Great. But you’re…real.”
James shrugged. “I wasn’t born rich. I worked for every cent. Had some good luck too, but if I hadn’t put in the effort, I’d never be where I am.”
“It shows.”
He stepped closer and Miranda pressed her lips together. “Does how much I want you show too? Because I’m having a hell of a hard time not kissing you.”
A sudden rush of emotions swelled inside her and she t
urned away. “I’m sorry I made a mess of it on live TV.”
“Stop it. You never should have taken the fall for us. Protecting me and Winston like that—I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have stepped in. Told that woman off.”
She frowned and folded her arms across her chest, but James stepped up and spun her around.
“You know you’re gorgeous, right? And sexy and smart and funny as hell.”
Miranda frowned. “I know you don’t want me. You don’t need to make me feel better.”
“What are you talking about? I’m desperate for you. Shit, Miranda, please tell me you don’t regret Saturday night.”
The hope in his voice had her glancing up despite herself. “No, I don’t. It was…unbelievable. But I know it was a one-time thing. Three people can’t date each other. It would never work.”
He reached out and ran his fingers down her arm until she shivered. “Miranda—I—I never expected to meet a woman like you. You’re so confident and bold. Comfortable in your own skin.” She furrowed her brow, but he ducked to catch her eye. “I don’t want this to end. I don’t want a one-time thing.”
He can’t be serious. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I want you to give me a chance.”
“What about Winston?”
“He’s not here. But I am and I know what I want.” A tremor raced through her. “You.”
Memories of the two of them—hands running up bare skin, lips hot and wet, cocks thick and straight—filled her mind. She wriggled in place and stammered. “James, I—”
“You don’t have to choose. If you still want him, fine. But don’t walk away from me because you think it’s a package deal. I want you whether Winston’s in the picture or not.”
Oh my god. She’d gone from hope to despair to anger. And now James was standing there telling her he wanted more than a fling. His blue eyes lit up with hope and promise and she wanted to drown in it. Damn it, why was nothing ever easy?
She bit her lip and inhaled through her nose. “I’m tabloid fodder now. A business risk. You should walk away.”
“I can’t.” He inched forward and the space between them burned. “I won’t. Not until you push me away.”
She should shove him back and demand to go home. Forget about him and his partner. But the longer he stared at her—nostrils flaring, teeth grinding—the weaker her resolve. It wasn’t just the sex. It was him—the gentle, quiet side she’d glimpsed moments ago, mixing with the possessive, dominant side standing in front of her.
She wanted to learn all his secrets. Satisfy all his desires. Forget about everything except that moment. Miranda licked her lips and reached out, twisting her fingers in his dress shirt before yanking him closer. “I’m not pushing.”
Fuck. James reached up and dragged her mouth to his, tearing his hands through her hair and kissing her so hard she gasped into his mouth. Screw holding back and being gentle. If she wanted him, he’d take her right there in the middle of the forest.
Holding her head, he kissed her until she opened up in a burst of mint and desire. Oh, god. Circling his tongue, lapping up her wanton goodness, he fought the urge to rip her dress open and ravage her. As she moaned and leaned into him, he pulled back, trailing kisses across her cheek and down her neck as her body quivered with every touch.
“Tell me you want me.”
She answered with a moan. “I want you.”
Mmm. Dipping lower, he nosed the v of her neckline wide, planting kisses on her full breast. “Tell me you want me to fuck you. Right here, out in the open.”
“James—we shouldn’t. We’re—”
“All alone.” He ran his hands down her sides until he found the tie of her dress. With a single tug, it unfurled and the fabric slid open. Breasts and skin and sexy nude lace. She wasn’t leaving without his dick inside her. One way or another.
“Tell me you want me inside you. Fucking you. Owning you. Tell me you want it.” He dove underneath her open dress, running his hands up her sides and back down to cup her bare ass. Shit. He loved a woman in a thong.
Miranda moaned and he teased her more, rubbing his hands over the lace band at her waist, slipping his fingers underneath and squeezing. She wriggled against him and he smiled, kissing her neck and shoulders as she melted into him. Mmm. Turning her on, driving her wild. He could live off it. Get drunk on it. Love it.
Sliding his hands up her smooth skin, he found the hidden swells of her breasts and swiped his thumbs across her plump nipples. One stroke and she cried out, throwing her head back and gasping. He eased her dress off, letting the verdant silk blend into the grass as he stepped back to marvel. God, she was gorgeous.
Her nipples hardened beneath the lace of her bra as he stared at her. All curves and sex. Beauty and power. He wanted to bury himself in her breasts, lick and tease and smother himself until she came without a single flick of her clit.
As she arched her back, he reached around and unclasped her bra. The stretched lace popped free and he whisked it away. Fuck, yes. Her tits bounced in the air—huge and ripe and ready for sucking—and he was there, kissing circles around a nipple. Closer and closer he edged to the tight, little knob until she grabbed his head and ran her hands through his hair.
He licked across the hardened bud and glanced up. “You haven’t answered me.” Reaching out, he cupped her other breast in his hand before stroking her nipple with his thumb. “You haven’t told me what you want.” He flicked and she arched into him, crying out as he took the pebble into his mouth. Mmm. So sweet. Rolling her nipple across his tongue and flicking in gentle strokes, he worked her until she panted and mewled.
As he pulled back, she bit her lip and opened her eyes. He could see the conflict inside her—need burning bright and strong, fear holding her back. If she weren’t willing to voice her desires, he’d just have to give her what she wanted.
“Get on the ground.”
“What?” She glanced down at the grass and back up at his face.
“But I can’t—I—”
“You can and you will. For me. On your back, now Miranda.” Her eyes went wide, but she nodded, sliding down until her ass touched the ground. She leaned back, elbows propping her up, knees clamped tight together.
James smiled and kneeled in front of her. He would make her soar. Reaching out, he hooked his fingers in her panties and in one yank, they were over her ass, down her thighs, and off her feet.
She swallowed and stared at him. “Do you have a condom?”
“No. And I don’t need one. Not for this.” He slipped his hand between her knees and she pressed them together, sandwiching him between them. “You don’t have to, James. It’s okay.”
“You’re right. I don’t have to do anything. Spread your legs, Miranda. I want to make you fly.” Gripping her knee, he pried her legs apart with both hands until her pussy was on full display. Pink and wet and so damn swollen he could taste her juices already. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.”
He slid his hands down her trembling thighs as he lowered his body to the grass. She laid there, quivering and anxious and he smiled. She was all his. With a glance up at her wide eyes, he licked—delving into her slick heat, lapping up her desire as he flicked her clit. She cried out and fell back, releasing the tension in her legs in surrender.
Perfect. He grabbed her ass and pulled her up, supporting her weight with his hands as he licked and sucked and kissed. James knew he excelled at making women come—he’d had years of practice. Honed and perfected for just this moment. He wanted her to never forget lying on the grass, exposed and vulnerable as he brought the sky to life. She’d see stars in the daytime.
Swirling his tongue around her clit, he teased her, flicking across the little nub before dipping down to thrust inside her pulsing channel. She moaned and cried and bucked into his mouth as he set her down on the ground. With gentle pressure, he traced around her pussy with his finger, rimming the edge of her needy hole until he dipped inside. Da
mn. Her muscles clamped around him and as he flicked her clit again, she came, tightening her grip on his finger and spasming in orgasmic bliss.
She whimpered her release, bucking up into the air as the waves of pleasure crashed over her. But he wasn’t finished. He slipped another finger inside her and pumped, sliding in and out, pushing through the orgasm until her whimpers turned to moans. He licked around her opening, running his tongue over the stretched skin, and she moaned again.
With a grin, he curled his fingers inside her, stroking her inner wall until she rose up off the grass in a gasp. He’d found it. “You like that?” James leaned over and licked her clit and she cried out, reaching down to run her fingers through his hair. “Oh god, yes!” Lapping at her clit and stroking her g-spot, he brought her over the edge again, spiraling into another orgasm.
Damn, she was beautiful when she came apart. He could work her all day just to watch. He slid his fingers out and she groaned in complaint, reaching down between her legs to pull him on top of her.
Digging her nails into his arms, Miranda dragged him up until their faces met. She smashed her lips into his and shoved her tongue into his mouth, smearing her juices all over her own face as she moaned.
“I don’t know how I’ve gotten so lucky.” Miranda reached down and stroked his erection through his pants. “Open up that suit. I want to return the favor.” James laughed and eased back onto his knees before undoing his belt. He’d meant the afternoon to be all about her, but if she wanted more…his dick would certainly thank her.
Grabbing his pants and boxers, he pulled them wide and pushed them down. His cock sprang free and she crawled forward on her hands and knees, mouth open, eyes hungry. As he reached up to stroke her hair, she opened wide, wrapping her mouth around his thick shaft and licking. Oh, Christ. She ran her tongue up and down, flicking and lapping at his veined skin, toying with his ridge, dragging out a strangled moan.
