Beauty and the Billionaire (BILLIONAIRE BOYS CLUB NOVEL)

by Clare, Jessica

  By the time Gretchen looked fully relaxed, there was a fresh-baked set of banana nut muffins on the counter, something she referred to as a gingerbread soufflé, tiny, perfectly shaped white chocolate scones, and pudding-filled lemon cupcakes decorated with hints of lemon zest, freshly grated by Hunter. She seemed utterly content.

  She was beautiful and incredibly sexy, and he found that he could watch her for hours and never get bored.

  When the last pan was out of the oven and cooling, she began to whip up frosting. She glanced over at him and then dipped her finger in the frosting, offering it to him. “Want to taste?”

  His cock jerked at the husky note in her voice and the soft look in her eyes. Ah, damn. Gretchen was thinking pleasant things, and it automatically made him hard to recognize that. Hunter leaned in and took her finger in his mouth, sucking on the fingertip.

  A soft whimper of lust escaped her throat.

  He licked her with languorous pleasure, his cock hard as a rock in his pants. When he released her finger, her gaze was still riveted to his mouth.

  It seemed they were thinking along the same wavelength. “Is it too early in the day to throw you down on the floor and fuck you?”

  Her entire body seemed to tremble with that. “God, no. Never too early.”

  “Then come here,” he growled.

  She moved toward him slowly, all cooking forgotten. Her hands reached for him automatically, moving to smooth along his jaw and the scars there. He didn’t flinch away at her exploring touch. Gretchen’s gaze was appreciative and hot with desire, not disgusted and flinching with revulsion.

  She saw him beneath the scars.

  Hunter’s arm went around her waist, dragging her against him. Her eyes widened and she smiled, placing a hand on his already erect cock through his slacks. “It doesn’t take much to get you going, does it?”

  “Not when it comes to you,” he told her, wrapping his other hand in her hair and tilting her neck back. He leaned in and pressed a kiss there, running his teeth over her skin.

  She shivered against him, her hand automatically clenching around his cock. “Oh, Hunter, that feels amazing.”

  “I want to make you feel good,” he told her, licking at the delicate cords of her neck. “Tell me what you want.”

  “Sex. Right here, right now.” Her hand pumped over his cock, rubbing through his clothing as if she could give him a handjob through the layers.

  He groaned in response, sliding the yoga pants down her hips. “Yes. God, yes.”

  She froze in his arms. “Wait. What about the staff? What if they see us? Maybe we should hide somewhere.”

  He groaned at the thought. He wanted to sink into Gretchen right then and now. But she was right. “We need condoms, too.” Fuck. He needed to learn to keep one on him at all times. “Fine. We’ll go to your room.”

  “So far away? It’s an entire hall or two down,” she teased. “I don’t know if I can walk that far.”

  He grabbed her under her thighs and lifted her into the air. “Then I’ll carry you.”

  She squeaked in surprise, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist, her arms going around his neck. “I was joking. I can walk.”

  Hunter thrust against the juncture of her sex, settling her against his erection. “But I like to carry you.”

  Gretchen sighed, and she automatically leaned in to kiss him, her thighs squeezing tight around him. “I’m out of objections.”

  He kissed her back, his tongue slicking against hers in a wild tangle. With her lifted into his arms, he began to walk slowly out of the kitchen, each step pushing her against his aching cock. He turned his back to push open the swinging kitchen door, then continued down the hall. All the while, she moaned and continued to kiss him, clinging to him.

  The walk down the long hall of the east wing to her room seemed endless. Why was his damn house so big? And yet, him carrying her back to her room was exquisitely pleasurable. Every step pushed Gretchen’s warmth against his cock, and her thighs squeezed against his hips. Her breasts pushed against his chest, and her mouth sweetly accepted every thrust of his tongue.

  It was delicious torture.

  She moaned loudly when they got to her door, and he had to pause to twist the doorknob and push the door open. “Don’t stop moving,” she told him, rolling her hips and working against his cock.

  He groaned, his entire body stiffening with need. “Gretchen, don’t.”

  “Don’t do this?” She tightened her hands around his neck and ground her hips against him, her lips brushing against his scarred cheek. “I want you deep inside me.”

  Hunter staggered into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. He carried her to the bed and laid her down onto her back, immediately rolling on top of her.

  “Mmm,” she said, working her hips again. “I liked it when you held me. Felt so close to you.”

  He sat up, stripping off his shirt and jacket. “We don’t have to stop. We can make love like that, with me holding you. I just need to get a condom on.”

  She gave him a surprised look, and ran a hand along his bare chest, tracing the muscles of his pectorals. “I’m not too heavy?”

  “Not at all.” He undid his belt, releasing his pants to the ground, quickly followed by his boxers. “Shall I show you?”

  “Absolutely,” she breathed, her voice excited. She began to strip her own clothing off with rapid hands, dragging her shirt over her head as he moved to the dresser and got out one of the condoms. He unwrapped it and rolled it down his aching length, resisting the urge to take himself in his hand and ease the ache a little. He’d be seated deep inside Gretchen soon enough, and that would be sweeter than any pleasure he could give himself.

  When he turned around, she was laying on the bed, completely naked. She spread her legs wide at the sight of him, a beckoning gesture that he couldn’t resist. But instead of going to her outstretched arms, he leaned in and nuzzled at her pussy, licking the delicate, slick folds and enjoying the choked gasp that she gave in response.

  “You taste so sweet, Gretchen. Sweeter than anything I’ve tasted.” He pushed his tongue through her wet petals, flicking it against her clitoris. “I can’t get enough of you.”

  “Then don’t stop.” Her hands twisted in his hair, holding his head in place while he tongued her. “Oh, God, don’t ever stop.”

  “But you’ll come,” he said raggedly, and sucked on the small button to make up for the fact that he’d paused.

  She cried out, her back arching, and then whimpered a protest when he pulled away. “Why are you stopping?”

  “Because I need to be inside you,” he said, his voice rough with need. “Right now.”

  She made another wordless sound of protest, but he grasped her hips and pulled her to the edge of the bed.

  “Put your arms around my neck,” he commanded, even as he placed the head of his cock against her slick core.

  Gretchen did, and he lifted her back into his arms again, tugging her against him.

  The movement caused her weight to slide down, and then she was sheathed around him, her heat enveloping him like a glove. The feel of her was indescribable and he groaned at the sensation.

  “Oh,” Gretchen breathed. “You’re so deep.” Her muscles seemed to clench around him, sucking him deeper inside, holding him tighter. Her thighs clenched against him, her ass squeezing against his palms as he held her.

  He thrust shallowly, rocking his hips even as he clenched her thighs, holding her in place. His mouth sought hers, but the motion only allowed him to graze his lips against her. “Feel good?”

  She moved her hips a little, rocking down on him. The movement caused her erect nipples to brush against his chest, further driving him wild. “Oh, Hunter, don’t drop me.”

  “Never.” He was strong. He could bench press hundreds of pounds. He
r weight was slight in his arms. “I won’t let you go.”

  Gretchen’s hips rolled against him, and he thrust at the same time, enjoying her gasp of reaction. “Harder, Hunter.”

  He began to rock his hips a little harder. It was a tricky position, though. He needed more leverage. Glancing around, he spotted a bare section of wall a few feet away and moved toward it.

  “What . . .” she murmured in protest as he began to move.

  Hunter thrust her up against the wall, anchoring her there. She wanted to be fucked hard? He’d give her hard. The leverage of the wall allowed him better support, and when he thrust the next time, her eyes widened, her pussy clenching around him.

  “Oh! Just like that!”

  She was bossy in bed, his Gretchen. He loved that. Harder and harder, he pounded into her, enjoying her little cries with every thrust. Her eyes were closed tight and she clung to him so hard that her nails dug into his shoulders. And she was making deep, quivering motions with every rough thrust he made.

  And he loved it.

  A painting fell off the nearby wall. He didn’t give a shit. He thrust harder, each movement rocking her up the delicate floral wallpaper and bouncing her back down on his cock.

  “Hunter,” she cried.

  “I’m here,” he told her, his mouth swooping in to capture hers in a rough kiss. “I’ve got you.” Her cries were loud and wild, and it drove him fucking mad with pleasure. He ground his hips into her, his cock buried inside that perfect warmth.

  She screamed against his mouth, and he felt her go over the edge, felt that flutter of muscle deep inside her, and then she clenched all around him, milking him with her body.

  He bit out a curse, so close to the edge himself, his thrusts becoming rougher. She continued to whimper his name, the body shivers continuing on and on. And then he was coming, too, his own orgasm unleashing with a wild groan. He thrust into her again and then stiffened, remaining there as he went over the edge with her.

  Gradually, awareness returned and he realized he still had her pinned against the wall, her legs around his hips, her heavy panting in his ear. Hunter shifted, pulling out of her and letting her slide to the ground.

  She clung to him, her knees wobbly. He thought she would say something clever, something bold. Something uniquely Gretchen.

  But she only wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against his skin, as if she needed to be held.

  And he was all too happy to comply.

  ***

  They spent the rest of the day in bed, leisurely exploring each other’s bodies. They chatted for hours about the house, her projects, and about his work. She’d been under the impression that he didn’t leave the house to work but it turned out that he did, just not often. He had several real estate companies where he owned and leased enormous amounts of land and buildings. He might not oversee every sale, but he was involved in multiple projects at once.

  Her own confessions about her job had surprised him. He’d had no idea that she’d had such an intense dislike for writing. He thought she did it because she loved it. But whenever Gretchen mentioned writing, there was a cagey, unhappy look in her eyes, as if she felt . . . trapped.

  And here he’d thought he’d make her happy by making her a bestseller. But she hadn’t even brought it up. Perhaps it meant nothing to her. He’d have to think of another way to make her melt.

  It seemed he existed solely for Gretchen’s teasing smiles.

  ***

  A few days later

  “We could have had this catered,” Hunter said, reaching to steal a piece of bruschetta from the hors d’oeuvres table.

  She smacked his hand and arranged the remaining appetizers to hide the fact that he’d stolen one. “How many times do I have to tell you? I like cooking. Besides, this is only ten additional people. I can handle that.”

  Tonight was the night of the small dinner party that she’d wheedled out of Hunter. It was a mixer of close friends and her editor and agent. At first, she’d wanted to do it to show the house off a little and get her editor excited about the project.

  Now she was hoping that with a few bottles of wine in her editor, she’d be able to get an extension.

  She’d made a feast for their guests—delicate pastries, savory appetizers, and a light salad. For the main course, she’d gone with an easy favorite—pasta—and had made a few different things for dessert to show off her skills. The entire day had been spent in kitchen-bliss, as she’d worked on one dish after another.

  Why she couldn’t transfer some of that happy peace to her writing, she didn’t know. She hadn’t worked on her manuscript notes ever since she’d lost her file. Part of her kept hoping that she’d hear that they were able to recover the data.

  Part of her was just really, really mentally done with the entire thing.

  So she’d taken a few days off. She’d baked delicious treats for the cleaning staff, who were delighted at her efforts. She’d reorganized the kitchen and tested out new recipes. She’d made scrumptious dinners for Hunter and even baked cookies for Eldon. She didn’t write a lick. When she wasn’t puttering in the kitchen, she spent her time with Hunter, watching movies in his personal screening room, working out together, or learning the basics of how to cultivate roses.

  This week, she was happier than she’d been in a long time. She should have been miserable, but being around Hunter soothed that part of her. He made it okay.

  And he didn’t mind that she might have to spend a few more weeks at his house.

  It didn’t fix the issue with her apartment, of course. Audrey had called her and had forwarded the rent money to her account so her check would clear, but next month’s rent was coming up fast and she still had no plans. Nor had the check for the new project arrived.

  She was fucked. And she didn’t care. Which was weird.

  Tonight’s party would either make things worse or better she thought as she surveyed the dining room. Buchanan Manor had a formal dining room with dual crystal chandeliers, wood paneling, and pastoral paintings that she was pretty sure cost a small fortune. It boasted a long, narrow table that could seat twenty and looked like something out of an old-fashioned movie. Soft classical music was piped in through the house’s speaker system. Fresh roses from Hunter’s greenhouse adorned the table.

  Her guests would be impressed.

  Hunter seemed on edge. He was dressed in a crisp designer suit with a pinstriped navy tie and navy shirt. He looked like a dark god, right down to his hair that fell rakishly over his forehead.

  Gretchen set out the appetizers and eyed the wine selection. “What time did we ask everyone to get here?”

  Hunter shrugged. “It shouldn’t matter. It’s just a gathering of friends.” The words sounded curiously flat.

  “Poor baby. Are you nervous?” Gretchen moved to his side and pretended to straighten his tie, all to give herself an excuse to put her hands on him. “You shouldn’t be. You look amazing.”

  His gaze smoldered as he glanced at her. “You’re the one no one will be able to take their eyes off of.”

  “Flatterer.” She grinned and adjusted one of the tight sleeves of her black cocktail dress. She’d ordered it online at Hunter’s insistence and had it overnighted. The dress was a cute, low-cut number designed to show off her curves. The body of the dress was form fitting, and the skirt tightening at her knees. She’d worn a white rose in her hair just to set it off and to please Hunter. “With that glib tongue, I think you’ll do just fine at this party tonight.”

  He gave her a quelling look. “Not so sure about that. You know I don’t entertain.”

  “Not even your friends?”

  He looked uncomfortable again. “I’ve never invited them here.”

  Really? That was surprising. She knew he kept himself remote from others; she just had no idea how remote. “Well, I�
�m here tonight. You let me handle everything.” And she leaned in and gave him a grazing kiss on the mouth.

  He grasped her and turned the kiss into something deeper, darker, and far more passionate. She moaned in response, making soft noises of pleasure when his tongue thrust into her mouth with searing ownership.

  Someone clapped mockingly behind them. “Dinner and a show. You really know how to treat your guests, Hunter.”

  Gretchen gasped and turned around, whirling out of Hunter’s arms. A man stood behind them in the doorway, dressed in a casual sports jacket, his collar open. He was handsome in a rakish, too-slick sort of way that she’d always despised. And he was assessing her with a speculative gaze that made her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

  At her side, Hunter had gone stiff, and she glanced over at him, expecting to see a sharp scowl. But there was none. He just looked . . . resigned.

  His hand went to her waist. “Come. Let me introduce you to Reese.”

  They crossed the dining room, and Gretchen kept a hostess smile pinned on her face even as she extended her hand to him. “You’re our first guest,” she said cheerfully. “You must be one of Hunter’s friends.”

  “I am. You must be Hunter’s new ladylove.” He gave her an approving smile and then lifted her hand to his mouth. “I applaud his taste.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I do hope Hunter doesn’t monopolize you the entire evening,” Reese said, giving her his best seductive look.

  She pulled her hand out of his with a little grimace. “Cool your jets, lover boy. I’m not into dual penetration.”

  He looked startled, then laughed, glancing at Hunter. “I see why you like her.”

  Hunter simply gave his friend a tight smile, looking more uncomfortable by the minute. She moved back to his side, giving him a light squeeze on the ass to distract him before drifting away to straighten up the table again. Though she was a safe distance away, she pretended to look busy, all the while watching Hunter furtively.

  Reese was still chuckling as she drifted past and began to whisper something to Hunter. He nodded, the uneasy look leaving his face. He began to whisper back to Reese, and the other man burst out laughing. One of Hunter’s rare smiles touched his mouth, and she relaxed a bit.