The Millionaire's Proposition

by Avril Tremayne

  She spread her legs to accommodate his straining erection between her thighs, pulled him hard into the cradle of her, wordless and panting.

  ‘I want to see you,’ he said.

  But before she could respond he was backing her further into the room. Step, kiss…step, kiss…step, kiss. And then they were at her desk, her thighs hitting the desktop. Her amazing, stockinged thighs. Just the thought of them had his fingers twitching to touch.

  ‘Open your legs,’ he said, and she did.

  And then his fingers were there, feeling the damp silk. He was too desperate to be gentle, wrenching the covering aside so his fingers could dip into her. Urgently slipping inside her, then out, circling, then in, out, circling again. She cried out and he plastered his mouth to hers, bending her backwards at the same time as his arm swooped, scattering everything off the desk onto the floor.

  He heard the thump and clatter—didn’t care. Her back was on the desk, her bottom at the edge, her legs splayed and dangling, her feet in their sexy high heels just touching the floor. He was between her thighs, fingers still working, resolutely wringing wordless cries from her. He hadn’t stopped kissing her, scared to break that mouth-to-mouth bond in case she told him to stop. He couldn’t stop now—didn’t want to stop.

  Fingers still moving against her, he used his other hand to wrench her skirt higher until he knew—even though he couldn’t yet see—that she was exposed to him.

  He imagined the picture: pale fabric bunched around her hips, silky knickers covering her except for the slight skew at her core where his fingers played, the stay-up stockings in an understated nude that just made them that much sexier. Steam. He thought he must have steam coming out of his ears. Hell, he wanted to see that picture.

  Okay—he would have to risk freeing her mouth just so he could see that picture.

  He pulled back and Kate reached automatically to push her skirt down, but his hands stayed hers.

  ‘No. I have to see. I have to, Kate.’

  Throwing her head back, she let her hands drop to her sides, open to him.

  He pulled back, looked long and hard, while his heart threatened to leap out through his eyeballs and he thought he might actually come on the spot. Violet. A flash of purple amongst the cream and nude. That delicious part of her just peeping out at the side. She was the most gloriously sexy thing he had ever seen in his life. He had a feeling the image of Kate Cleary on the desk, spread for him, would be the hottest memory of his life.

  He made some low, growling noise—like an animal, because he felt like an animal—and knew he had to get at her the fastest way he could. No condom—because why would he need a condom just to see her briefly in her office on a Monday afternoon? Idiot—don’t leave home without one ever again. So it would be his fingers and his mouth.

  Even before the thought had finished he was on her, his fingers there, renewing their endless dipping slide. He dropped to his knees, watching each undulating movement of her hips. And when that wasn’t enough he tugged that violet silk a little further off centre and put his mouth on her.

  She bucked, cried out, as his tongue replaced his fingers, as his hands moved to grasp her hips and bring her closer to his mouth, angling her so he could explore every delicious fold and crease. The taste of her was intoxicating. The scent of her arousal, the feel of her as he suckled the pearly clitoris he’d freed from the silk…

  ‘Delicious,’ he said, between long, slow pulls. ‘I knew you would be.’

  And then she was whimpering in earnest, soft mewing cries as he alternated the pressure, building the fire in her with every scrap of skill and care he had, building, building… One last, long, endless, sucking kiss there and her hips bucked off the desk.

  And then a low, throaty moan was torn out of her as she came and her hands fisted convulsively in his hair, dragging him into her moist heat, and he was breathing her in as he laved her with his eager, lusting tongue, so damned hot for her.

  He stayed there, his mouth on her, until the waves receded.

  And then her legs relaxed and she lay like an exhausted doll, legs spread, limp hands slipping from his hair as he stood back and looked at her. She was so wantonly beautiful to Scott’s still hungry eyes that he had to cover his face with his hands—because he wanted to be inside her so badly the sight of her was painful.

  A heartbeat later he heard the soft sounds of her getting herself together—sitting up, adjusting her clothes. He dropped his hands a millimetre at a time, gauging his control as he went.

  Okay.

  She was covered.

  He could breathe.

  Sort of.

  That spectacular blush was on her cheekbones. ‘What about…about you?’ she asked. ‘I mean…you. You know…’

  Scott winced. ‘That’s what I get for not packing a condom,’ he said, and pulled up his gaping pants, refastening the openings Kate had wrenched apart earlier. He tucked in his shirt. ‘Not that I expected… Well, not that I expected that.’

  Her eyes darted to the Venetian blinds as she edged off the desk and he read her relief as she puffed out a little breath. Had she not even noticed that he’d closed the blinds? That said something about the passion between them.

  ‘So, Kate, I’d say you owe me,’ he said. ‘And I have an inkling you’re not the kind of woman who likes to be in anyone’s debt, so I’ll collect tonight. Name the place. Name the time.’

  She bent to pick up the various objects Scott had so unceremoniously shoved off the desk. Including her laptop, which she didn’t even bother checking for damage.

  Ordinarily he would have helped. But not now. Now he just watched. She was doing something inside her head. Calculating. Planning. So best to be a spectator, gathering clues from her demeanour. What was she thinking?

  She picked up a box of tissues, but instead of putting it back on the desk she held it out to him. ‘Lipstick,’ she said, gesturing to his mouth.

  He plucked a tissue from the box. ‘Still there?’ he asked, giving her his most wicked smile. ‘After my mouth was so busy between your—’

  ‘Yes, still there,’ she cut in.

  Her voice was curt, no-nonsense…but he saw the shiver tremble through her body as she put the tissue box back in its place on her desk.

  And then she checked her watch. Followed that with a stride over to the Venetians to open them with one sharp tug of the cord.

  ‘Oh, no, Katie,’ Scott said at that point. ‘We don’t get back to normal and move on to our next appointments after that.’

  She looked at him. ‘Kate. Not Katie.’ She licked her top lip. Again. Eyes closed. Then opened. And then she threw her hands out with a you win sigh. ‘All right—fair enough. Let’s talk.’

  She waved him to one of the black leather chairs as she walked around behind the desk and settled into her own intimidating, high-backed number.

  ‘That was a mistake,’ she said, very direct.

  ‘I made one mistake—I didn’t bring a condom. Otherwise that went pretty much as I would have liked.’

  ‘I don’t do relationships,’ Kate said, ignoring that.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’

  ‘Perfect.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘You don’t do relationships. I don’t do relationships. But I do do sex…and so, obviously, do you. And very well too.’

  She stared at him for a long moment. Then that little lick of the top lip again—God, he wanted to be the one licking it.

  ‘I have someone,’ she said.

  That brought a frown—fast and hard and very displeased. ‘You told me at the party you didn’t.’

  ‘I’m seeing him tonight. We’re working out an arrangement.’

  ‘What kind of arrangement?’

  She looked at him out of those clear eyes. ‘A mutually satisfactory “friends with benefits” arrangement.’

  ‘Work out an arrangement with me instead.’

  ‘Phillip is forty.’<
br />
  ‘Past his sexual prime.’

  ‘Closer to my age.’

  ‘How old are you, Katie?’

  ‘Thirty-two. And it’s Kate.’

  ‘Then he’s not closer to your age—I am. Five years versus eight years. And I want you more.’

  ‘How could you possibly know that?’

  ‘Because nobody could want you more than I do.’ He leaned forward in his chair. ‘And you owe me. One orgasm.’

  ‘I’m not interested in having a toy boy.’

  ‘And I’m not interested in being one.’ He stared at her, wondering… And then he relaxed back in his chair. ‘Aha! So that was it.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘What happened at the party to make you run away. Amy said I was twenty-seven.’

  ‘I don’t do relationships.’

  ‘Yeah—we covered that one.’

  ‘People who are twenty-seven are in the prime age bracket for relationships.’

  ‘Newsflash—so are people who are thirty-two.’

  ‘I’m not like other thirty-two-year-olds.’

  ‘And I’m not like other twenty-seven-year-olds. Remember? I’m the confirmed bachelor of Weeping Reef.’

  ‘You said bachelor, but not confirmed.’

  ‘I lied because I didn’t want to scare you off.’

  ‘Not exactly honourable.’

  ‘That’s because I’m not honourable. I have not one honourable intention when I look at you. Which won’t bother you since you’re not interested in relationships. So, Katie, you’re going to have to tell your forty-year-old he’s too late. Unless you didn’t like what just happened…?’

  Kate leaned back in her chair. Licked her top lip again, which was now almost bare of lipstick. It was heavy, brooding. He wanted it on his body.

  ‘There’s no reason I won’t like it with Phillip just as much,’ she said.

  ‘What—you’d let Phillip go down on you on your desk during business hours, would you?’

  ‘He wouldn’t want to.’

  ‘And that’s why I’m the man for you. Because I would. I did. And I would do it again in a heartbeat, Katie.’

  ‘Kate. And it’s not a matter of liking. It’s a matter of being clear what the end-game is so nobody gets hurt.’

  ‘I don’t get hurt.’

  She looked startled. ‘Everyone gets hurt.’

  ‘Not me.’

  ‘You’ve never been hurt?’

  Scott’s body tensed. Redirect. ‘Let me put it this way. There’s no need for either of us to get hurt. You mentioned the end-game. Why can’t the end-game be sex? Pure and simple sex?’

  Kate had picked up a pen and was tap, tap, tapping it on the desk. ‘Pure and simple sex,’ she said slowly. ‘No strings?’

  ‘You got it.’

  Long moment. Tap, tap, tap. ‘And if I were to lay some ground rules…? You wouldn’t have a problem with that?’

  ‘Lay away.’

  ‘I’d need time. To think it through. Come up with an agreement.’

  ‘I’m sure you already have the ground rules worked out for old man Phillip.’

  ‘He’s not old.’

  ‘So your age fixation only works one way?’

  No answer.

  Scott smiled the Number One smile—I am available for sex immediately—as he got out his business card and tossed it onto her desk. ‘You’ve got until I see you tonight to work out whatever rules you want—but, just to be clear, whether we come to an agreement or not, you owe me. If I leave this office and you suddenly have second thoughts about embarking on an affair with me, you still owe me. You. Owe. Me. And I’m not leaving until you give me a time and a place for tonight where you’re going to pay me back. Katie. So let’s have it.’

  She was thinking—he could almost see her brain fizzing.

  And then, ‘Seven o’clock,’ she announced. ‘Come to my apartment.’ She scribbled something on a sheet of paper and held it out to him. ‘That’s the address. And it’s Kate.’

  Scott reached for the paper, pocketed it.

  Kate stood, walked around the desk to the door, opened it.

  Scott got to his feet more slowly and followed her. But something about the controlled expression on her face got to him—so instead of walking out and heading merrily on his way, he stopped beside her, grabbed her upper arms, tugged her close and slammed his mouth hard on hers. Long, hot moment. Framed in the doorway for anyone who happened to be in the suite to see.

  He released her just as suddenly, and smiled to see the combination of shock and desire on her face as he drew back.

  ‘You’ve got no idea how much I’m going to need that debt paid when I see you at seven tonight,’ he said softly.

  And with that, he turned to wink at the unabashedly staring Deb and sauntered towards the exit.

  As he reached it he heard Deb’s voice. ‘That was some five minutes, Kate. So, what will it be? Chicken and mung beans? Or do you need something more substantial—a chunk of raw meat, perhaps—to get your strength back?’

  Chapter Four

  RACING HOME AFTER WORK that evening, Kate was kicking herself for not going with her first instinct and simply supplanting Phillip with Scott at the bar. A quick twist of an arrangement already in place. Same bar. Same purpose. Just a different model.

  She didn’t know why the invitation to her apartment had popped out of her mouth instead.

  Although, thinking back to that hot scene on her desk—God, her desk!—she figured it was probably just as well she’d gone for a more private option. If she couldn’t control herself with Scott in her place of work, with Deb sitting just outside the door, how could she trust herself not to perform her payback sex act in the bar, on her knees under the table?

  An image that got her so turned on she switched the water temperature of the shower to cold before getting under the spray.

  Lust was still fizzing under her skin when she got out, so choosing something to wear took on a whole new meaning—because it had to be something that could come off easily.

  Forgoing underwear, she grabbed a loose, tissue-thin shift in a rich russet colour. Very easy to take off when the moment came. And she hoped the outline of her body under the fine silk would drive Scott a little crazy in the meantime—payback for how crazy he’d driven her.

  She left her hair loose. Put on a minimum of make-up. No lipstick—her mouth was going to be all over him, and she didn’t want to leave a trail over his clothes or his skin.

  She was so full of nervous energy, she caught herself pacing the floor while she waited for him. At this rate one touch of his clever fingers would have her unravelling—and she was not going to unravel twice in one day! She poured herself a glass of very cold white wine and forced her fidgety limbs onto the couch, trying to summon at least a semblance of composure.

  The intercom buzzed at six fifty-nine p.m. and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. This was it.

  As she let Scott in she ran her eyes over his body—white T-shirt, jeans. Very cool, very gorgeous. Her eyes kept going. Down to his…

  Oh.

  Converse All Star sneakers.

  Cool, gorgeous…and young.

  Those sneakers were not something forty-year-old Phillip would wear.

  Twenty-seven. Okay, wake-up call. What the hell had she been thinking? She forced her eyes away from his feet, up to his eyes, preparing to tell him the deal was off.

  But the look on his face gave her pause.

  Kate had never seen such taut grimness—and she’d seen some very grim faces in the courtroom. His look got more taut and even more grim as he ran his eyes over her dress, all the way down to her bare feet and back up.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ she asked, alarmed.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, and his voice was every bit as grim as his face. ‘I’ve been replaying that scene in your office in my head all afternoon, and I’m so desperate to get my hands on you I can’t think straight. So let’s ski
p the pleasantries.’

  He nodded at the glass of wine on the coffee table.

  ‘I don’t want the drink you’re probably going to offer me. I’m not into mood music, so don’t bother asking me what I want to listen to. No need for a tour of the apartment—I can see it’s nice and modern and open-plan. Don’t give a rat’s about the view. And the only thing I want to eat is you. Again.’ Strained smile. ‘Now, are we doing the ground rules before or after I get my orgasm?’

  ‘Before,’ Kate said, any thought of backing away from their agreement obliterated by the heat of his words, the wild rush of desire that bolted through her.

  ‘Then let’s do it fast. Before I explode.’

  The air was thick with lust as she guided him to the dining table, handed him the pages she’d prepared for their signatures.

  ‘So we’re—what?’ he asked. ‘Signing a contract?’

  She nodded. ‘With a contract we’ll both know where we stand, what we can expect. It keeps things uncomplicated.’

  Scott laughed, but didn’t refuse, so Kate started running through the clauses.

  She didn’t even make it through the first one before Scott cut her off. ‘Katie—you want a contract, then a contract it is. But it’s a sex contract—not a pre-nup or a business merger. And it’s not even legally enforceable, as we both know. So can you just give me the basics? Then I’ll sign—there’s no way I won’t—and we can move on to implementing it. Because if I have to see your nipples poking against that dress for much longer without touching you, I am going to go freaking insane.’

  The sudden throb between Kate’s thighs had her squirming on her chair.

  ‘I see I’m not the only one eager to get to the implementation stage,’ he said, and with an inarticulate I give up growl reached out to cup one of her breasts through the silk.

  She felt her nipple tighten even further. He pinched it gently, once. She gasped, he groaned, and then he wrenched his hand away and shot out of his seat.