Becca.
He groaned as his hand involuntarily brushed against his cock, and before he knew it, he had wrapped his fingers around the turgid length. Kicking off the sheets, he spread his legs wide and cupped his balls with one hand, massaging his cock with the other, as he closed his eyes and thought of the woman who’d writhed naked on his bed beneath his hands and mouth, and cried his name to the heavens.
His cock exploded, jetting white-hot all over his hand, and he groaned as his body shuddered with the force of his climax.
There was no point in denying it, he thought to himself as he collapsed back against the mattress, his body sated and yet still humming with sexual energy. He wanted Becca fiercely, so what was the point of denying himself? He wasn’t officially promised to Ravena, or anyone else yet, so it wasn’t as if he were betraying anyone by having a fling with her.
They would set boundaries, he told himself as he cleaned up, and pulled the sheets back over his body again. He didn’t want either of them to suffer when he had to go back to America, something that would happen all too soon. But he also refused to let their mutual desire go unfulfilled while there was opportunity to give them both what they wanted.
Smiling, he dropped into sleep, a plan already half-formed in his head on how he would overcome Becca’s objections, and take them both to a place of pleasure she’d never have imagined.
* * *
Becca fought against the urge to cross her arms and tap her foot impatiently as she waited in the lobby for Jericho to come downstairs. He’d assured her he would be down in ‘just a second’ when she’d asked the front desk to call up to him, and that was over ten minutes ago.
Of course, she could always go upstairs and pound on his door, but she had a feeling that was just what he wanted, and it was a bad idea. There was no way she was going to be able to set foot in his hotel room again without being bombarded with memories of their lovemaking last night.
Hell, she could barely think of Jericho himself without seeing him lying between her legs, giving her the incredible pleasure of her life.
Becca gritted her teeth as heat flooded her body. Seriously? She had to get a hold of herself before he came downstairs, because the smell of her arousal would only let him know exactly how he made her feel, and what control he really had over her. No matter how good last night was, she couldn’t allow it to happen again. There was no way she was opening herself up to something that could easily leave her broken-hearted again. It had been hard enough to walk away last night, and she wasn’t sure she would be able to manage it a second time.
No, it was best for them to get through the tour that he hired her to give him, and just leave things as they are.
She caught the scent of spicy, masculinity that was becoming all-too familiar, and turned to see him exiting one of the bank of gold elevators with a brown paper bag stamped with the hotel’s logo clutched in his fist, and a Styrofoam cup in the other. He wore sunshades and a black leather jacket over his shirt and jeans today, and the outfit added an extra edge of danger and mystery to him that was way too damned appealing, if the turning female heads around him were any indication.
Not that she cared.
“Good morning.” He slipped the shades up over his dark hair, revealing sparkling blue eyes that made him look ridiculously bright eyed and bushy tailed as he grinned at her. He looked well-rested and full of energy.
“Good morning,” she returned, trying not to sound irritated, but it was hard since she’d been tossing and turning most of the night. If not for the triple espresso shot she’d grabbed this morning, she likely would have spent the last ten minutes snoozing in one of the hotel lobby chairs. “You look like you slept well.”
Jericho smiled a little ruefully. “One of the perks to having an excellent metabolism, I’m afraid,” he said, then lowered his voice, a spark of intensity blazing in his eyes. “I was actually up all night. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Her breath caught at the rough timber in his voice, stealing away whatever retort she was about to make. He’d been up thinking about her too? The knowledge suffused her with warmth and satisfaction, which she damn well knew she shouldn’t be feeling, but she couldn’t seem to help it.
“I’m sorry I’m so late,” he said, his voice and eyes lightening again, as if nothing untoward had been said. “I wanted to bring you some breakfast, but room service was taking longer than I’d anticipated.” He held out the Styrofoam cup and the paper bag. “For you.”
“Oh.” Touched, she took them without thinking about it. “Thank you.” The scent of coffee wafted from the hot Styrofoam cup, along with a hint of cream and sugar. Unable to resist, she peaked into the bag. “Oh my goodness. Croissants.”
He smiled. “When in France.”
A chuckle escaped her lips. “You’re such a scoundrel,” she scolded, then turned and headed for the exit.
He followed her, a smirk playing at his sinful lips as they headed for her car. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know you’re trying to charm me,” she said as she slid into the driver’s seat and buckled herself in. “And it’s not going to work.” As she started the engine, she dug one of the croissants out of the bag and took a big bite, then moaned as the buttery, flaky bread sank into her tongue.
“You sure about that?” he lifted a challenging brow, and her cheeks flushed a little.
“Just because I don’t plan on giving in to your seduction doesn’t mean I’m not going to enjoy your efforts along the way.” She lifted her chin and pulled into traffic, officially ending the conversation.
But not, she knew, the battle that had only just begun.
Chapter Eight
The forty-five minute drive to Chateau Versailles was the most excruciating ride of her life. Not because of the traffic, or the heat, or the never-ending radio commercials that bored the ever-living hell out of her.
No, it was the fact that Jericho seemed to take up every spare inch of space in the compact confines of her vehicle with not only his body, but his presence. His spicy, masculine scent filled the air along with the raw, masculine energy that always seemed to pour off of him in hot waves, making it difficult to draw a single breath that wasn’t filled with want. He was wearing some kind of sweet, sandalwood-scented cologne today, which only made his scent that much more addictive – as he no doubt already knew.
Damn him.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally parked the car in the lot designated for tours, then hefted her purse over her shoulder as she waited for Jericho to squeeze himself out from the passenger’s side.
“Wow.” Jericho’s eyes glowed as he surveyed the Castle, seated at the heart of a sprawling garden that boasted fountains and statues and a dazzling array of trees and flowers and plants that stretched as far as the eye could see. “King Louis must have had a grand old time here.”
“Which one?” Becca said lightly, leading the way. They traversed a large fountain with a series of bronze sculptures rising up from the center of the water, and began walking down one of the paths on either side of the stretch of lawn that ran all the way to the castle entrance.
Jericho screwed up his nose as he thought about this, and she fought back a giggle. “The tenth?”
Becca wagged a finger. “Someone needs to brush up on her history,” she told him. “It was Louis the Fourteenth who built this castle. It started out as his father’s simple hunting lodge before he turned it into what it is today.”
She continued relating the history of the castle to Jericho, confidence in her role as a tour guide settling her nerves and distracting her from his raw sex appeal. They breezed past the line and into the Hall of Mirrors, and for a time even Jericho seemed too caught up by the opulence of their surroundings to remember that he was supposed to be seducing her.
Or so she thought.
Jericho allowed her the comfort she took from her role as tour guide, pretending to be wholly absorbed
by the castle – which in truth wasn’t too hard as he met fascinating pieces of history, art and architecture everywhere he looked. Gold and gems and crystal dripped from everything from the furnishings to the art to the décor itself, the sheer amount of wealth and opulence staggering even to a man of means as he was.
But not so staggering that he didn’t have one eye on his feisty little tour guide at all times.
She probably thought he didn’t notice that she’d dressed up for him, he thought. Rather than the company t-shirt and jeans she wore yesterday, she dressed in a lacy white top that bared the skin at her collarbone and her arms and clung to her curves like a second skin. Her jeans were tucked into knee-high boots of brown suede with silver buckles that caught the light with every step she took. It was entirely possible the choice was subconscious, and that if pressed she would simply tell him this was what she typically wore when she ran out of uniform shirts… but if she truly didn’t want him making advances, she was going about it entirely the wrong way as far as her wardrobe was concerned, because he couldn’t stop tracing the curve of her breasts with his eyes, or staring at the way her jeans molded to her ass every time she turned around to point out another fascinating detail about the palace.
He began closing the distance between them little by little, touching her elbow as he helped her down a set of stairs, placing his palm against the curve where her back met her perfect little derriere as he urged her along ahead of him through a doorway. She stiffened at the touches at first, her body heating in response beneath his hand every time he placed it against her, but eventually she relaxed, acclimating to his touches no doubt because she believed they wouldn’t go any further. “
And they wouldn’t, for now.
Becca took a deep breath as they exited the castle and stepped into the Jardins du château de Versailles. “These gardens took over forty years to plan and create,” she said, spreading her hands to indicate the vastness of the grounds. “A testament to the extravagance of the French royalty… as well as their eye for true beauty.”
“Are we going to explore the whole thing?” Jericho asked, his eyes scanning the vast terrain. “Not that I’m against the idea… but I imagine it could take us quite awhile.”
Becca shook her head. “We don’t have time for that, unfortunately. But, if you’re interested… I’ll take you to my favorite spot in the gardens,” she said with a coy smile.
Jericho cocked his head, intrigued. “Lead the way.”
She took him past several parterres – formal gardens laid out in symmetrical patterns on a level surface, fountains and sculptures, pointing them out along the way and giving him a brief history of each, remaining steadfast in her tour guide roll. Except somewhere along the route, when he’d taken a misstep, she’d taken hold of his forearm in order to pull him along so she wouldn’t have to worry about him getting lost. He smiled at the sight of her long, elegant fingers wrapped around his dark leather sleeve – it was a sign she was getting more and more comfortable with him.
“Here we are,” she said as they emerged into another copse of trees forming geometric patterns around a fountain that was identical to the many fountains spread out across Versailles. Jericho frowned as he looked around, wondering what was so special about the place, and then he noticed the boxes around each of the trees. Looking up into the foliage, he saw clusters of small, white blossoms hanging from the branches, and understanding dawned on him.
“This is an orange grove.”
“The Versailles Orangerie,” Becca confirmed. A dreamy smile floated across her face as her dark eyes drifted across their surroundings. “The oldest part of the gardens, built well before even the castle had truly started it’s reconstruction.”
She led Jericho to a white stone bench near the fountain, and he drew himself down to sit beside her so they could enjoy the Orangerie together. “I always try to take my clients here if there’s enough time in the day,” she told him, looking out at the grounds. “It might not be as fancy as some of the other places at Versailles, but there’s something so peaceful about it… and I love the scent of the orange blossoms.”
“Mmm… yes, I see what you mean.” He closed his eyes and inhaled their sweet fragrance, which held just a hint of the fruit they would one day blossom into. His nose was quickly distracted by Becca’s own addictive scent, though, and he instinctively drew closer, wanting more of her. “You’re an awesome tour guide, Miss Donaldson,” he said quietly, drawing her hair off her shoulder to expose the creamy nape of her neck. “I can feel your passion and love for this beautiful city.”
Becca shivered as Jericho leaned down and nuzzled into the side of her neck, inhaling deeply. She felt a shudder rip through his own body, and the idea that something as simple as her own scent could affect him so much only made her want him more.
“Jericho…” his name came out as a plea, though whether or not for him to stop or keep going, she truly did not know.
“Don’t,” he growled, his lips tracing the words against the sensitive flesh of her earlobe. “I know I shouldn’t want you, that it would be easier for the both of us if we just kept this professional… but I can’t help myself and quite frankly, I don’t fucking want to.”
“I… I want you too, Jericho,” Becca whispered, fisting her hands in her lap to keep from touching him. His intoxicating scent was fogging her mind up this close, making it hard to keep hold of the rational thought she so desperately needed. “I just… I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get you out of my head afterwards.”
“So don’t,” Jericho replied, pressing a kiss to the spot just below her earlobe. A drop of heat slid through her skin and down into her nerve endings, making her tingle. “Just give into it,” he whispered, “Stop wasting time and just let me have you. You know you can’t resist me for much longer anyway.”
Becca turned toward him, arching a brow as a smirk covered her face. “If you think that kind of bullshit is going to get you what you want, you’ve got another thing coming.”
Jericho grinned, then took her hand and pulled her from the bench. “We’ll see about that.”
Chapter Nine
They tumbled into the hotel suite with their lips already locked, and Jericho’s hands sliding up beneath her shirt to cup her breasts.
Jericho growled with desire, nipping at her lip as he kicked the door shut behind him. Gathering her up in his arms, he savaged her neck with his teeth as he headed for the stairs. “What were you saying about my not getting what I want?” he growled between bites. “You should know sweetheart… I always get my way.”
Becca managed to smirk at him. “So do I.” She moaned when he suddenly squeezed her ass before he tossed her unceremoniously onto the bed. He grinned evilly when she glared up at him. “You want this just as much as I do,” he replied matter-of-factly, as he removed his jacket and placed it on the back the desk chair located in the corner of the room. Locking eyes with her, he gripped the hem of his t-shirt and slowly rolled it up, exposing inch by decadent inch of tawny skin and carved muscle. Her mouth watered as his abs came into view, two pack, four pack, six pack, and then his wonderfully formed pecs, lightly dusted with a smattering of hair. As he pulled his shirt over his head, she watched the muscles of his back ripple in the full-length mirror behind him, and she licked her lips.
Jericho raised a brow at the gesture. “See something you like?”
Becca managed a haughty look. “Sure. At least enough to keep me entertained.” Her cheeks burst into flame when he reached for the top button on his jeans, and she had to force herself not to fan herself as he slowly drew the zipper on his fly down. Her mouth fell open when his cock popped out of his jeans. “You’re commando.”
He gave her a sexy grin. “I don’t like underwear. It makes me too hot, especially in warmer weather.” His eyes slid to half-mast as he wrapped his fingers around the long, hard length jutting out proudly from his jeans, and her throat went dry as she watched a bead of moisture s
lide out from the tip.
“I did this last night, when I was thinking of you,” he rasped, sliding his grip up and down his cock. Becca wanted to tell him that he wasn’t done, that his pants and shoes still needed to come off, but she was riveted by the sight of Jericho touching himself. All that hot, hard, gorgeous length in his fist… and soon it was going to be inside her, just the way she wanted it.
“Come here,” she demanded, sitting up. When he didn’t move, she reached out and hooked a finger through one of his belt loops, then pulled him forward so that he was standing between her legs. Up close, his cock looked even more magnificent, the mushroom tip glistening with moisture, the veins standing out as they ran up and down his powerful length.
Licking her lips again, she took him into her hand, and then closed her eyes as she slid her fingers along the length. “You feel so good,” she whispered.
Jericho nearly came right then and there. The sight of her mouth hovering a mere inch from his cock while she slid her fingers up and down it, was incredibly erotic, and he felt his balls tighten in preparation for the climax. But as tempting as the impending release was, he didn’t want it to be over so soon, so he bit the inside of his cheek to distract himself with the pain.
Pain that was promptly forgotten when she slid the length of him into her mouth.
A growl rumbled from Jericho’s chest, and he grabbed Becca by the hair and pulled her closer, forcing more of himself into her mouth. Bracing her hands against his hips for leverage, she sucked him hard, and within moments he exploded into her mouth, a primal roar of satisfaction echoing from his lungs. She swallowed every drop of his hot seed, then leaned back and allowed him to collapse against her.
Groaning, he buried his face into her neck. “That was way too fast.”
“It was incredible,” she corrected with a smile, running her hands up and down the taut muscles of his back. “You have a gorgeous cock.”
Billion Dollar Bear Page 6
