Home > Crave (Billionaire Bachelors Club #1)(39)

Crave (Billionaire Bachelors Club #1)(39)
Author: Monica Murphy

“Design skills for orgasms? I think so.” I grin and she glares at me.

“You make it sound sleazy. You’re paying me for my design skills.” Worry flits through her gaze. “Right?”

I chuckle. “Of course. You know this.” Pausing, I contemplate her. “But you don’t have to pay me for the orgasms, you know. I’ll handle that task for free. Gladly.”

“Oh my God, this is the most embarrassing thing ever. I should’ve never told you.” She buries her face in her hands.

I stand and slowly start to approach her. “Don’t be embarrassed.” My voice is soft and I stop directly in front of where she’s sitting. “I’m glad you were honest with me.”

She tilts her head back, her gaze meeting mine. “Will you be honest with me?”

I think of the bet. I think of Matt laughing his ass off at me. Of me owing him that extra fifty grand because damn it, he was right. I think of Gage wanting to murder me for defiling his sister.

“I’ll try my best,” I say because it’s all I can offer.

“That works,” she murmurs, a smile teasing the corners of her mouth. “I’m excited to see the new resort.”

“I’m excited to show you.”

“Calistoga is gorgeous.”

“I agree. Wait till you see it. Hopefully you’ll think the hotel is gorgeous too.”

She nibbles on her lower lip, looking unsure and incredibly sexy. “I want to thank you for the opportunity. Letting me work with you,” she says softly.

“I’m grateful you’re willing to help.” Reaching out, I skim my hand over the top of her head, my fingers tangling in the silky soft strands of her hair.

“Like I said, you really didn’t give me any choice.” She shakes her head, but I don’t remove my hand. I never want to stop touching her. “I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

“You could never, ever disappointment me,” I tell her, knowing I’m one hundred percent right. Though I’m starting to wonder if she’s talking about disappointing me in a non-work-related way.

Again, she could never, ever disappointment there either.

“I don’t know about that,” she says, her voice full of doubt as she watches me approach.

“Let me prove it to you.” I take her hand so I can pull her to her feet.

“How?” Her voice is trembling, her gaze meeting mine expectantly.

“Like this.”

Chapter Twelve

Ivy

ARCHER’S MOUTH SETTLES on mine before I can utter a single word, and I’m completely lost. In the taste of him, the scent of him, the way he moves into me as if it’s his every right to be there. Touching me, holding me, drawing me close, his arms circling my waist.

This is what I really want. Working with him will be a great boost to my career; the Bancroft Corporation a stellar client to put into my portfolio and an opportunity that I would be a fool to pass up.

But this is what I not-so-secretly crave. Being in Archer’s arms again, his persuasive lips caressing mine, gently encouraging me to open to him. I do so easily, letting the soft sigh escape when his tongue touches mine. After all my arguments and protests, I still can’t believe I confessed to him what I really wanted.

A chance to be with him, to lose myself with him. Freely.

He’s the only one who’s able to coax an orgasm out of me. Men have tried numerous times before with a variety of methods. And when it wouldn’t work, when I didn’t work, they made me feel like a freak. A few had even declared me frigid. Unresponsive. Unfeeling.

Jerks. They’d tried to tear down my self-esteem and for a while, I let them. Until I realized I didn’t need any of them to give me an orgasm. I was fully in charge of that task. Quite happily, I might add.

Until Archer. And then bam. Instant orgasm. I’d like to experience that again.

And again and again and again.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispers against my lips, his husky voice sending a scattering of gooseflesh across my skin. “So damn much, Ivy.”

I’m about to tell him I missed him too, but he’s kissing me again, more forcefully this time. His tongue strokes mine, his hands clutch at my waist, and I step into him, run my hands up his chest, my fingers molding to the wall of hot, firm muscle beneath my palms. He shivers from my touch, and I realize he enjoys my touch as much as I enjoy his.

Such a powerful, overwhelming discovery.

As our hands move, our lips search, the kiss becoming deep. Hot. I slide my tongue into his mouth and I rest my hands at his sides, my fingers slipping beneath his sweater so I can touch the smooth, bare skin of his back. He grips my waist, guiding me backward, until I’m bumping against the wall and he’s got me trapped. Deliciously, wonderfully trapped.

He toys with the tie at the waist of my dress, his fingers playing with the ends, and then he’s tugging. Pulling the tie undone until my dress loosens and he’s pushing either side of it wide, exposing me to his perusal.

Breaking the kiss, he studies me, his smoldering gaze raking over my body, making me aware of how on display I am for him. I thrust my chest out and let him look his fill. Remind him of what he’s missed out on for the last month.

Me.

“You’re killing me.” He slips his fingers beneath the strap of my black bra, moving to trace the scalloped lacy edge across one breast, then the other. “So f**king beautiful.”

Pleasure swarms me, making me dizzy, and I lock my knees for fear I’ll collapse. I almost cry out when he leans in, one hand braced on the wall beside my head, his mouth at my throat, then my collarbone. Dropping sweet little kisses on my chest, the tops of my br**sts, sampling me. I grip his hips, holding on to him for dear life as he licks and kisses my skin.

   
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