Blame It On The Billionaire

She didn’t. Even though her heart thudded against her sternum, she didn’t heed his warning.

“Go on and ask me,” he murmured, and her breath caught in her lungs at the sin in his voice. “You’re thinking it. I can see that in those pretty brown eyes. Ask me what thoughts are in my head.”

Here in the dark, the caution that ruled her life started to unravel. That small, low whisper encouraging her to take grew in volume, in strength. In this hallway, cut off from the real world, with only the man she’d fantasized about for company, she was Eve reaching for the apple even knowing she shouldn’t.

Knowing that traveling down this path with her employer would be one of the biggest mistakes of her life...

She bit the apple.

“What are your thoughts about me?” she asked, the question barely there.

“Are you sure?” he pressed. When she nodded, he did, as well. “You bumped into me earlier, but only because I’d already stopped. I couldn’t move. Watching you walk is pure sex. The confident stride of those legs that mesmerize a man. Give him thoughts of how they would clasp him in their strong embrace. The sensual sway of hips I want to dig my fingers into while I press you close and take your mouth that was created to be claimed, corrupted. That’s what you are, baby. Corruption. Sin. Desire in flesh. And I want to kneel in front of you and beg you to consign me to your hell. Because I want to burn in you. With you.”

Oh God.

Desire, scorching hot and out of control, blazed a path from her belly, up her chest and to every limb of her body. Consuming her. With just words, he caused her nipples to tighten, her sex to spasm in need. Thank God she was sitting, because her trembling legs wouldn’t have supported her. Not when the blood in her veins had become liquid lust. Not when the breath in her lungs had evaporated into smoke.

I want to kneel in front of you... Because I want to burn in you. With you.

Now, she could do nothing but picture him on his knees in front of her, that proud head tilted back, his amazing eyes fixed on her. His fingers clasping the tab of her zipper and steadily lowering...

She closed her eyes, not to block out the image but to dwell on it.

“Nadia.” Gentle but firm fingers pinched her chin and lifted her head. “Look at me,” Grayson ordered, and she did. When she stared into his amazing eyes, he nodded. “Your turn. Tell me something nobody knows. Something that will stay here in this hallway,” he said, lobbing her words back at her.

Brave. She’d always prided herself on not backing down from any challenge. Especially because it’d almost always meant going without something—food, rent, money. But here, brave meant being selfish. It meant grabbing ahold and taking for herself...for once.

And God, did she want to take.

Could she do it only for tonight? Slap the time-out button and live brashly, without a thought for the consequences? Who would she hurt?

Maybe just herself once morning dawned or the lights came back on. But she was prepared to walk out of here accepting that when she returned to work on Monday, she would go back to being the nameless, faceless employee on the twentieth floor.

If she could have this slice of time with Grayson, then she’d deal with the hurt of becoming invisible again.

“I like tequila shots,” she whispered. “What no one knows is you’re like that hit of tequila. Potent as hell, hot and strong like the first punch of alcohol to the stomach—and I’ll gladly get drunk on it, on you, even knowing I’ll be hungover and remorseful in the morning.”

The silence between them thickened and heated. His grip on her chin tightened, and the slight pressure drew a gasp from her. His eyes. They seemed to glow with the same need that snapped inside of her. His skin tautened across his cheekbones, his sensual, full mouth flattening into a firm line.

“Do you understand what you do to a man like me when you say that?” he growled.

“A man like you?” she rasped.

“I told you,” he said, voice rough, harsh. His hand shifted from her face and up into her hair, gripping the strands. “I’m greedy. Selfish. And will take without conscience what you’re offering me.” He tugged on her hair, and pinpricks of pleasure danced across her scalp. She sank her teeth in her bottom lip to trap a moan. “What are you offering me, Nadia?”

“Me,” she breathed. “For tonight. All of me.”

As if those words snapped a fraying leash on his control, Grayson swooped down and crushed his mouth to hers. Oh God. She hadn’t been prepared. Maybe she’d believed she was. But foolish, foolish her—she wasn’t.

Not prepared for the intensity, the hunger, the ravishing. She felt silly even thinking that antiquated word, but no other could describe how he consumed her. Dragged her under with the thrust of his tongue, the hard but sensual molding of his lips to hers.

His holds in her hair and on her chin tightened. He tugged her head back farther, and his thumb pressed firmer just under her bottom lip. Both helplessly and willingly, she opened wider for him, for the plunging and tangling of his tongue. For his possession. A possession she not only welcomed but craved like her next breath.

He had become that vital.

His mouth abandoned hers, and with a disappointed whimper, she followed him. But he shifted his grip to her jaw and held her still. He trailed a sizzling path from her lips, down her throat and to the crook between neck and shoulder. There, he nuzzled her, and she gasped as a jolt leaped from that spot to her taut nipples, through her knotted belly and down to the already damp and spasming flesh between her thighs.

Reaching for steady purchase to cling to in the erotic maelstrom, she dug her fingernails into his shoulder. And held on.

“Come here,” he murmured, his hands dropping to her hips and drawing her toward him. Over him. In breathless seconds, she straddled his rock-hard thighs. Slowly lowered herself until the long, thick length of his erection pressed against her denim-covered sex. A low, shaky gust pushed out of her lungs. Damn. He was... Screw it. He was big. And for a woman who hadn’t had sex in well over a year? Intimidating.

But for a woman who’d never indulged in sex where she didn’t need to worry if the man would gossip about her afterward?

Exhilarating.

Liberating.

Rolling her hips, she stroked her sex over him. A full-body shiver worked its way through her, and she groaned at the stunning pleasure. Layers of clothes separated them, but they didn’t prevent her from feeling him. His width, his hardness, his strength.

Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, she ground against him, rubbing, rocking over his flesh, getting lost in the swells of desire that threatened to quickly drown her in the release that already loomed wonderfully close. Jesus. She was going to embarrass herself by coming quickly just from some fully clothed dry humping, and she couldn’t bring herself to care.

“I like that you’re using me for your pleasure, baby,” he praised in a silk-and-gravel voice that both slid over and abraded her skin...her nerve endings. “But don’t hide from me.” He pressed his thumb to her lip and gently tugged it free from her teeth. “I want to hear every sound, every word of your need for me. Don’t keep anything from me.”

Oh God. He was temptation, a sinful lure enticing her to fall in the most spectacular of ways.

With deft hands that spoke of skill and practice, he removed her jacket and shirt. Seconds later, she sat on his lap, his rigid dick between her thighs and his beautiful, bright gaze on her half-naked body. She resisted the urge to lift one arm over her plain bra and cross the other over her stomach.

No, she might not be ashamed of her body, but that didn’t prevent insecurities from creeping in with their sly reminders that she wasn’t like the women he’d been pictured with. Though Nadia worked out and ran—not just for health reasons but because it was also a great stress reliever—she would never have a cut six-pack unless she drew it on her abs with a Sharpie. Her flatish, soft belly carried faint stretch marks, and her breasts... Well, they were firm, but their weight would always make them sag a little rather than sit high on her chest like perky B cups.

“Don’t even think about it,” Grayson snapped, his eyes sparking with blue-and-green fire. Stroking his hands up her arms, he squeezed her shoulders, before continuing his journey south until he cupped her breasts in his big hands. “Maybe I should’ve been more specific when I told you not to hide from me. Not sounds, not words and definitely not this gorgeous body.”

“You’re certainly bossy, you know that?” she said, arching an eyebrow but leaving her hands on his shoulders. “Does that usually work for you?”

“Yes,” he rumbled, whisking his thumbs over her stiff, aching nipples. “And it does for you, too.” He pinched the tips, wringing a low cry from her. “Doesn’t it, baby?”

She didn’t answer but lowered her head and took his mouth, swallowing his wicked chuckle. He didn’t let up playing with her body, tweaking and tugging her nipples until she ripped her lips from his and threw her head back. More than anything, she wanted him flesh to flesh, no barriers. Reaching behind her, she unclipped her bra and yanked it off. An almost feral growl tore from him, and he hefted her breasts, lifting one to his mouth and sucking deep while continuing to toy with the other.

Every flick and circle and suckle agitated the insatiable creature she’d become. She tunneled her fingers through his hair, gripping, caught between clutching him close so he couldn’t turn her loose and pushing him from her, unable to bear the brutal sting of pleasure.

Switching to the other mound, he rubbed the wet tip, but slid his free hand down her torso, over her stomach and beneath the band of her jeans. Her audible catch of breath echoed in the hallway, and she stilled as his fingers slipped underneath denim and cotton, resting on top of her sex.

Lifting his head, he met her gaze. “Yes or no?” he asked.

Desire burned in his mismatched eyes, but so did resolve. His stare assured her that he wanted her, but if she said no, he would back away.

“Yes,” she said, the answer firm and sure.

She wanted his touch. Him. Releasing her hand from his hair, she dipped it under her pants as well, covering his fingers with hers. “Yes,” she repeated.

She tilted her hips, and their combined touch glided over her flesh. Twin thick groans saturated the air, and she couldn’t contain the cry that slipped from her lips. Together they stroked her, slid through her folds and down to the small, tight entrance to her body. On the tail end of a curse, Grayson abandoned her breast to wrench the button on her jeans free and tug down the zipper, granting them more room.

Fingers tangled, side by side, they caressed her opening. But it was him that pushed inside, stretching her with a familiar but almost-forgotten burn. And now, with his fingers buried deep, she wondered how she would go on without it.

In a duet that was as dirty as it was beautiful, they coaxed a tune from her body.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded, and she obeyed, untangling her fingers from his and slipping beneath his palm to slick a caress over the swollen button of nerves. She jolted, whimpered.

He gave a soft chuckle. “Do it again, Nadia. We’re going to take you there together.”

Shivering, she circled the nub, again and again, his rough praise and encouragement pushing her to rub harder, more, harder, more...

“Oh God,” she croaked, then splintered.

She cried out, quaking from the inside out. Grayson replaced her fingers with his, making sure she received every measure of the orgasm rippling through her. She went limp, falling into his body and wanting nothing more than to curl against him, lethargy weighing down her limbs.

Like she was a rag doll, he lifted her from his lap, damn near ripping the tuxedo from his powerful frame. Then he stripped her of her remaining clothes and arranged her on the makeshift pallet he made of his suit. He loomed above her, the dim light from his cell phone still managing to highlight the corded strength in his arms, chest, abs and thighs. His cock. Her lungs locked down all available air in her lungs at the sight of the heavy column of flesh rising from a dark nest of hair. The desire that had settled to a hum low in her belly sparked and crackled, the flames leaping to hot life. He was sexy, perfect...beautiful.

Thank God this wouldn’t go beyond tonight. Because she had the unnerving sense he could also very well be heartbreak.

Grayson tore open the small foil packet he’d retrieved from his wallet and rolled on the protection. The virile, erotic sight caused all her unsettling thoughts to scatter. All thoughts except him finally being inside her.

Lifting her arms to him, she murmured, “Grayson.”

An invitation. A plea.

“Gray,” he rasped, crawling over her and settling between her thighs.

“What?” She moaned as his weight pressed into her.

“Gray,” he repeated. “Those close to me call me Gray.”

But we’re not close, hovered on her tongue and from the sharpening in his blue-and-green gaze, maybe he expected and anticipated her protest. Sex didn’t make them close, didn’t grant her privileges.

But this was a night for pretend. For fantasy.

Both caused her to whisper, “Gray.”

Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes, and he settled more firmly over and against her, every rock-hard, unforgiving plane of his body pressed to her softer, rounded curves.

“What did you say you were willing to give me, Nadia?” he growled, his erection at the entrance to her body.

“All of me,” she rasped, then gasped as he surged inside in one long, smooth, powerful thrust. “Take all of me.”

And he did.

Not holding back. Not allowing her to hold back.

He slid his hands under her ass, angled her up and, withdrawing in a slow drag that lit up nerve endings like fireworks, he then plunged back inside her. Stealing her breath. Words. Sanity.

Circling her arms and legs around his neck and hips, she clung to him, let him hurl her into the storm he created with each flex, each parry and thrust, each branding kiss.

The man was a sexual act of God.

He powered into her, taking her body, giving her pleasure...breaking every notion of what sex really was. Because she’d had sex before, but as he buried himself in her again and again, riding her until her thighs trembled and her breath stuttered, she could admit to herself that this...this exceeded all of it.

This, she’d never experienced.

And already, even though she’d promised herself there couldn’t be a repeat, she craved it again.

“Gray,” she cried out, fearing and welcoming the end that swelled dangerously near.

“Let go, baby,” he ordered, his voice harsh with the same need that clawed at her. “Let go and give it to me.”

As if all she needed was his permission, she did as he commanded. She let go. And ecstasy whipped through her like lightning. Illuminating her, searing her, sending her flying.

Above her, his hoarse shout dimly filled her ears, but she was already falling into the darkness, embracing it.

Knowing in the morning, she would have only memories to hold on to instead of Grayson Chandler.

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