Not Daddy Material (Billionaire's Contract Duet 2)

This was evidently the NASCAR version of the house tour. I scarcely had time to get my bearings before he raced toward the hallway.

“Down here are all the bedrooms.” He wheeled my suitcase along the shiny pine floors. “I thought you might like this room.” He stepped aside to give me a clear view of the ocean.

The room was decorated completely in white. There was a set of French doors that opened to the ocean side of the deck. Beyond the breakers, I saw another streak of lightning. Thank goodness I had made the four-hour drive before the clouds unleashed the rain. I glanced around at the rest of my accommodations.

It was unavoidable. In the center of the room was a king size bed. An enormous bed. A bed that was screaming: I’m a bed.

My knees were like Jell-O and my stomach twisted in knots. But the good kind of knots—the ones that had me jumping out of my skin waiting for Beau to make the first move. Although, why was I waiting on him? I knew exactly what I wanted.

It was silly to think it was ingrained in my head that it would be too forward or would come across as too slutty to tell a guy what I wanted—that I wanted him. However, in all my other relationships, I never made the first move, especially not in bed. Something about Beau aroused a primal instinct I kept buried with my last boyfriend. Beau challenged me on so many levels, or maybe I was just that turned on by the thought of having nothing between us.

He turned and pointed to a closed door. “There’s a private bathroom right here. Towels are on the shelf. My mom stocks the guest cabinet with extra toothbrushes and stuff.” He hurried past the end of the bed and was moving toward the hallway. “Everything good?”

This was my chance. For the first time in a month, we were finally alone together. And not just any kind of alone—utterly alone in a beautiful house, secluded on a quiet beach. No Nina or Candace or Xbox-playing roommates. No gawking blog followers. No one.

“Beau?” One of his hands was on the door and he was headed in the direction of the kitchen. I couldn’t tell if he was excited to show me the house or nervous that I was there. It was kind of cute to see him shed some of his ultra-cool exterior.

“Hmm? What’s up?” He had both feet back in the bedroom.

I sat on the edge of the bed, taking my time to unzip each of my knee-high leather boots before setting them on the floor. I peeled the cardigan sweater I was wearing off one arm and then the other. I tossed it on the chair. This was the best come-hither look I had. I leaned back on the bed. Self-admittedly, I had perfected this pose as Maggie in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.

“Kiss me.”

I pushed myself to a place I had never gone, but I wanted him to stay. The fire burning under my skin wasn’t going to let this moment pass by without Beau knowing how I felt. I was willing to sacrifice any pride I had left to show him. It didn’t make any sense to let him walk out the door. I smiled as he crossed the room, closing in on me a step at a time. Mission accomplished.

He eased his athletic frame onto the bed. “Like this?”

Beau’s gaze was focused on my mouth. He studied the curves of my lips with his thumb, sending ripples through my body that surged in other places I wanted him to touch. I waited for him as the space between us became the boundary for our breath. He kissed the side of my cheek while his hand gripped the back of my neck, sending a moan from my throat.

“Yes,” was all I could manage to sound out as he pressed his lips into mine. I drank in his kiss, while the outside world and its stormy skies faded away. This was better than what I could have asked for. I loved how he tasted. I was sure more perfect lips did not exist. I reclined back, pulling Beau with me on the summer white quilt.

The house shook with a loud clap of thunder, and the lights flickered several times before the room was thrust into sudden darkness.

Beau shot up on both arms, hovering over me with his broad shoulders. “Shit. We just lost power.” I could tell he was contemplating leaving our compromising position for the more responsible house-sitting duties that had to be plaguing him.

The rain pelted the wooden deck outside the window, and I could hear the howling of the wind as it ripped around the corners of the house.

I had waited over a month for this moment and I wasn’t about to let him off the bed or out of my arms. I was finally right where I wanted to be. After the cat and mouse game we had been playing, a little power outage wasn’t going to stop the heat that was building between us. Lightning flashed through the glass door. A few kisses weren’t enough. I wanted so much more.

I snaked my arms around his waist and gripped the small of his back. I might be tiny, but I didn’t want him to have any doubts about what I was willing to do to keep him en

tangled in this position.

“Stay,” I whispered. “Stay with me.”

His mouth found mine in the darkness and I raveled my legs around him. I caught my breath as he worked the buttons open on my shirt. His hands explored every inch of my exposed skin, and I couldn’t keep from moving under his touch, inching his fingers farther below my hips. I tugged the T-shirt over his head and let the backs of my nails trickle down his chest. His skin was hot and smooth under my fingertips. Even after my eyes adjusted to the lack of light, I closed them, trying to savor every touch and kiss. Each sensation Beau created with his fingers shot through me until I felt like a prisoner in my own skin. I wanted him to release me from the pressure building deep within.

He seemed to be enjoying making me squirm with want. A devilish look flashed across his eyes before his lips began dropping kisses across my stomach like falling raindrops. Starting at my navel, I felt the intense sensation of his mouth while he drew a heated line to the buttons on my jeans.

“London, are you ok?” he whispered to me so softly over the thunder.

I couldn’t think. I could only feel what he was doing to me, and it was amazing. We had never talked about having sex. I knew it was inevitable after the night we decided to make our fake relationship real. Every time he touched me, it felt like my body was drawn to him. This night was meant to happen. I had never wanted anyone or anything so much. Seriously, he couldn’t be trying to talk to me right now. I thought my body was saying it all without me having to utter a single word.

Then it hit me. I froze. What if I wasn’t doing enough?

Beau steadied himself on his arms. “London?” I saw the smoldering look in his eyes. Oh my God, he was hot.

“Yes?” I didn’t want him to stop. I reached for the zipper on his jeans and tugged it until it reached the base of the seam. This was no time for conversation.