The Billionaire’s Forgotten Fiancée

by Nadia Lee

  His mouth still on her tit, he pushed her thighs apart wider. She was dripping wet, her nether lips swollen and so damn slick. He ran his fingers up and down, careful to bump into her clit every time, but not with enough pressure to make her come. He wanted to drive her to the edge, hear her beg him to fuck her. He wanted her filthy and desperate and out of her mind with need.

  “More,” she moaned, her voice low and uneven.

  “Not yet, babe.”

  “You…are…evil.”

  “And you like me that way.” He brought his juicy fingers to his mouth and licked. “Damn, you taste amazing. You have no idea what I want, do you?”

  “Shane…”

  * * *

  Ginger teetered at the edge. She was going to die if he kept teasing her like this.

  Tunneling her hands into his hair, she pulled him up for a kiss. He didn’t even hesitate. His talented mouth…Oh yes. He plundered her like he had every right to, and she loved it. She wanted him to know she belonged to him and him only. She didn’t want him to ever think about how he might end up like his parents, especially his father. She wouldn’t let him.

  She moved against him and moaned with frustration. He was still in the pajamas, which were getting in the way. She rolled them over, and Shane adjusted his position so they wouldn’t fall off the small mattress. “You’re entirely too dressed,” she muttered. She reached down and undid all the buttons, laying his chest bare. When he reached for the bottoms, she slapped his hands away. “I’ll handle this.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. With a wicked grin, she pulled them down slowly, unwrapping him like a birthday present. His cock sprang out. She licked her lips at the glistening tip. The veins on his shaft seemed to pulse.

  She pulled him deep into her mouth. Salt and the heady flavor of Shane flooded her senses, and she moaned. He was too big for her to suck to the hilt, so she used her hands to compensate.

  He hissed out a curse.

  “Shhh,” she said. “You’re going to get us caught.” She resumed, licking and tasting and sucking all over his cock, leaving no part untouched. Her fingers delicately played with his balls, weighing and caressing them.

  His breathing grew choppy. He braced his feet flat on the bed and thrust into her mouth, careful not to gag her. His hands clenched into fists, and the muscles in his stomach were rigid. She could tell he was close. Yes, yes.

  The last time he’d come on her. This time she wanted him to come inside her so she could taste his climax.

  Suddenly he grasped her arms and pulled her up. He devoured her mouth like she was a feast after a famine, while he shoved two fingers inside her. She was so primed they glided in with no problem. His kiss muffled her cry as her walls tightened around his fingers. She needed more.

  “Fuck, you’re so damn hot.” He thrust them in and out, only up to two knuckles. She tried to move, have them deeper inside her, but he kept an arm around her waist, trapping her.

  “Shane, please…”

  “Tell me.”

  “I want you inside me,” she whispered heatedly in his ear. “I want you hard and hot and fucking me, claiming my body. Making me yours.”

  “You’re already mine,” he said against her nape. “But damn… Do you have a condom?”

  “Don’t need one. I’m on the pill.”

  “But in Thailand, you said—”

  “I lied.” She’d had to in order to stop him from taking her fully.

  “You bad, bad girl,” he whispered and flipped her over.

  She spread her legs as wide as she could, so wanton in her need. He took his weight on his elbows and plunged into her in one, harsh stroke.

  She bit her lower lip at the most incredible sensation. He was so big, he stretched her to the limit. It felt like he was filling every empty corner of her body and heart.

  He pushed in and out of her, each thrust hard and controlled. The delicious friction caused her walls to tighten and clench, and she tightened her jaw to contain a scream. Her breasts bobbed, and even the slight movement of the cool air seemed too much for her overly sensitive nipples.

  He changed the angle of his pelvis, bumping and grinding into her clit. Her vision whitened, and she let out a silent scream as a fiery orgasm incinerated her every nerve ending. He soon joined her, his mouth pressed against the spot between her neck and shoulder as he shuddered and emptied into her.

  He rolled to his back, taking her with him. He breathed roughly, sweat beaded along his hairline. With a soft smile, she traced every perfect line of his beloved face.

  “Even if you don’t remember everything, you haven’t changed that much,” she whispered when they could breathe normally again.

  “You mean, I’ve always been a great lover?”

  She giggled. “Dirty and demanding.”

  “See? Just like I said.”

  She laid her cheek against his chest, listening to his heart beat. Da-dum, da-dum, da-dum. So comforting. So real. She closed her eyes. This was exactly the way it should be.

  She yawned. “I should probably go back.”

  His arms tightened around her. “Stay a little longer.”

  “But—”

  “If you fall asleep, I’ll carry you to your room.” He kissed her on the forehead.

  She smiled. “Okay.”

  * * *

  The next morning Ginger opened her eyes in her own room and smiled to herself. Shane wasn’t just a great lover. He was the greatest lover. She just couldn’t tell him because he wouldn’t be able to fit his head through his tee-shirts.

  She walked out into the hall to use the bathroom and almost ran into Trevor. “Sorry. Hi.” She grinned goofily.

  “Morning.” He frowned. “You know… You really should be a little more quiet. You kept me up quite a while last night.”

  Her jaw dropped. Before she could respond, he walked down the stairs.

  She put her hands over her flaming cheeks. Great. So her brother had heard everything. At least her parents were heavy sleepers.

  When she made it downstairs, her dad had already finished with breakfast and gone out to check on his cows with Trevor. Ginger sat at the table as her mom placed a mug of steaming coffee in front of her.

  “Good morning,” Zoe said cheerfully. She had on her red apple apron, which she only wore when she was in an exceptionally good mood. “How are you feeling?”

  “Not bad,” Ginger said.

  Shane was at the table too and gave Zoe his most charming smile when she put more bacon on his plate. “You’re an amazing cook, ma’am. I bet not even Mark’s fancy chefs can make bacon this good.”

  She gave him a side-eye, her lips twitching in a suppressed smile. “Who’s going to believe that?”

  “Me. And Ginger. And anyone else who’s eaten your food.”

  Zoe laughed and put a plateful of scrambled eggs, bacon and home fries in front of Ginger. “Eat. You’ve lost too much weight.”

  “All right.” Ginger dug in. Zoe had fretted after she’d come back to the States with Debbie. But she hadn’t known exactly what was wrong, and Ginger hadn’t told her.

  She also hadn’t told Shane, and didn’t plan to. Better to leave that pain in the past. It still hurt when she thought about it, and what would be the point of telling Shane now? Debbie had the right attitude—that it just wasn’t meant to be, but heaven would bless her again when the time was right.

  Zoe went to the kitchen to look at what kind of dessert to make for lunch and dinner. Ginger leaned over to Shane. “Hey,” she whispered.

  “Hmm?”

  “Did Trevor say anything to you?”

  “About what?”

  She leaned closer. “Our noise last night.”

  “No. Why?”

  She pulled back with a scowl. “I see.”

  “What’s that expression for?”

  “I know what’s going on. And here I thought Trevor really heard something.”

  “Heard what?” Zoe asked, coming back to the tab
le with a pitcher of iced tea.

  “Nothing,” Ginger said quickly. “I was having a dream and apparently talked in my sleep.”

  “Well, don’t mind him. The slightest little noise will have him up and prowling the house.” Zoe put a hand on Ginger’s shoulder comfortingly. “More bacon, Shane?”

  “Please.”

  Ginger pushed her plate his way. “You can have mine too.”

  “No, you’re going to eat all that.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him and ate almost all of her breakfast before excusing herself to go track down Trevor.

  The farm didn’t make much profit, but Fraser still worked it anyway. He said it was good to keep busy doing something physically demanding even in old age. “Keeps me young,” he said.

  Finally she found them together in the vegetable garden.

  “Trevor, can I talk to you for a moment?” she called out.

  He wiped his face with a towel and came over. “What’s up?”

  “Noisy, am I?”

  Trevor shrugged.

  “Since you have such amazing hearing, what kind of noise was it? A nightmare? Sex?”

  “Jeez. Stop. You’re my sister.”

  “I knew it.” She pointed a finger. “You were just saying that to make me behave.”

  “So sue me. I’m your big brother.”

  “Shane and I are engaged. You shouldn’t act so…Puritanical.”

  Trevor winced. “I don’t want to imagine you doing anything with any guy.” Then he got a far-off look. “By the way… About what you said yesterday…”

  “What about it?”

  “Is it true? He cut all communication with you after going to South Africa?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  Trevor’s eyebrows pulled into a deep V. “Nothing.”

  She tilted her head. “If you know something, can you tell me? It’s important.”

  He looked away. “I don’t know anything.”

  “Really?” she said, fishing for any information he might have.

  “Hey. I’m not spying on you and Shane, despite what you think.”

  Trevor went back to helping their dad, but her internal bullcrap alarm clanged loud and hard. Trevor knew something.

  But why wouldn’t he tell her?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Shane and Ginger left the farm after two more days. They hugged Fraser and Zoe—only Ginger hugged Trevor—and promised to visit again soon, maybe even spend the Fourth of July with them. That had perked up her parents so much that Shane had felt guilty. Just how little time had Ginger spent with them on holidays?

  He hadn’t wanted to drive separately, but she didn’t want to leave her car behind, and he didn’t think Mark would appreciate him leaving his precious Aston Martin at the farm.

  “Follow me to my place,” he said.

  “I don’t need to. I know where you live.” She blinked up at him. “Do you?”

  “Of course I do.” Mark’s GPS had Shane’s place programmed. Technology was a wonderful thing.

  “Fine. The loser owes the winner lunch.”

  “Oh, I think we can do better than that,” he said. “Lunch and twenty minutes of slow head.”

  “You’re on,” she said, then dashed to her car.

  He let her go first. It was unfair to pit an Aston Martin against a Nissan. He waited ten minutes, then started.

  It didn’t take that long, only a couple of hours. The late morning traffic was pretty light. Still he hadn’t spotted Ginger’s car, which was odd, but she’d probably had to stop for gas or something along the way.

  When he was about five or so blocks away from his penthouse, he finally dialed Ginger. He had no doubt she knew where his place was, given how long they’d been together. But he hadn’t seen her at all, and she could be in trouble…maybe a blown tire or something.

  “Hello, Loser,” she answered.

  He laughed. “Who are you calling ‘Loser’? I’m almost at my place now.”

  “That makes you the loser. I’m already in your living room.”

  What the hell? “How did you get there so fast?”

  “I know a shortcut. I’m guessing you just let your GPS guide you?”

  He heard her chuckle with satisfaction and had to grin. “I’ll be there in two minutes to pay up.”

  He pulled into the underground parking garage at his place. Whistling, he got into the elevator. He didn’t think he’d be happy if he’d lost to someone else, but it was Ginger. Besides, lunch and burying his face in her afterward? That felt more like a gold medal than a penalty.

  The elevator stopped on the top floor, and he stepped into the penthouse. It was huge, with an open layout and floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the city. At night, the view would be dazzling.

  The kitchen had four gas burners and a griddle, plus two ovens and a built-in microwave. An enormous stainless steel refrigerator occupied the center, and pots and pans hung from hooks on the high ceiling. “Was I a great cook?” he asked.

  “No. But you let one of Mark’s chefs design the kitchen for you. You wanted it to have everything.” She ran her hand along the marble countertop. “It was your way of telling me you wanted me to have the best. You bought it after we graduated from college.”

  “Where did we go?”

  “Berkeley.” She smiled. “You only got in because your brothers made a huge donation in your name, I think.”

  “How come?”

  “You applied past deadline because you heard it was the only school I applied to.”

  “Seriously? You didn’t have a backup school?”

  “I didn’t want to go anywhere else. It was Berkeley or nothing.”

  “Good thing you got in then.”

  She grinned. “I know.”

  “Where was I supposed to go?” he asked. He was certain his parents had particular expectations, especially Salazar, who undoubtedly wanted to pretend to visit him so he could screw the young things on campus.

  “An Ivy League school.”

  “I see.” Probably any top-tier university with hot coeds would’ve been acceptable. He looked around. “Where do I keep the takeout menus?”

  She reached over and opened the top drawer in the kitchen. “Here.” She pulled out a sheaf of them. “We have Chinese, Italian, Thai and basically everything else. If they don’t deliver, you have the concierge on your speed dial.”

  “What are you in the mood for?”

  “Mmm.” She considered. “How about a pepperoni pizza?”

  “Works for me.” He ordered a large pepperoni pizza and a bottle of Coke Zero and mineral water. The bored-sounding girl on the line said it’d take about thirty minutes. Perfect, he thought.

  He tossed the phone on the countertop. “We have half an hour,” he said. “So I move that we have dessert first.”

  “Dessert?”

  “I believe you won the bet.” He walked toward her, herding her over to the kitchen island. Her face flushed, her eyes brilliant and dark.

  She licked her lips. “What if the delivery guy comes early?”

  “Time to live dangerously.” He stripped her of her shirt and bra and dropped to his knees in front of her, undoing the clasp on her shorts and pulling them and her panties down her smooth legs, all the while peppering her belly with feather-light kisses.

  He dipped a thumb between her legs and grunted with approval at how wet she already was. “Were you thinking about this while you were waiting for me?”

  “A little,” she said, her voice unsteady.

  He pushed at her legs. “Spread wider and tilt your hips forward. Lean back against the island.”

  She did as she was told. He licked a wet path down her belly until he reached the slick prize between her legs. He tongued it gently, licking with just the tip. A tremor ran through her, and he blew on it, then breathed in her scent. Here it was darker and heavier with her feminine musk. He wanted to hear her scream her brains out in his kitchen. Then in his living roo
m. And bedroom. And everywhere else in the penthouse.

  He pushed his tongue into her folds and she moaned softly, pushing her sex toward his mouth. He gripped her pelvis, holding her there so he could eat her up.

  As he licked and sucked on her clit, she threw her head back, her hair hanging loose. The position pushed her breasts out, the pink tips erect, and the soft mounds jiggling with every labored breath she took. Did she have any idea how fucking gorgeous she was? Everything paled next to her.

  He pushed his tongue as far as he could into her tight channel, savoring the way she tasted and felt. She was wound tight, so close that a little nudge and she’d fall apart. She was also damn vocal about what she wanted—harder, faster, yes there, oh my god.

  Her voice and demands drove him. He wanted to feel her climax burn through her with keen desperation that left him aching.

  He coated his thumb thoroughly with her slick juices until it was drenched. Then increasing the pressure of his mouth, he brushed her tight rosette with it.

  Her hands dug into his hair. “Oh my god. Shane!” She spread herself wider, completely open to him. Her knuckles whitened as she screamed and came apart. Her legs gave out, and he caught her before she hit the floor.

  She shuddered in his arms. “Oh my god…” she moaned.

  He kissed her on the mouth. She responded greedily, her body apparently still primed. “I want you inside me so bad,” she whispered against his mouth as she licked her own juices from his lips. “Please.”

  He unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. His cock sprang out, fully erect and hard as marble. “Ride me,” he ordered.

  Biting her lower lip, she gripped his shaft and levered herself onto him. She was so slick he slipped right in. He bit back a groan. Holy hell. That felt amazing. Like a hot, moist velvet glove…

  Her walls clenched around him as she moved. He rubbed a finger around her folds, getting it wet. As she found her rhythm, he teased her anus then pressed into it.

  Sucking in a deep breath, she slowed then stilled. “Shane…”

  “Does it not feel good?” he murmured, his mouth traveling over her collarbone.