Not Husband Material (Billionaire's Contract Duet 1)

“Why do you say that?” she pouted.

“Because I can see you being a problem for me, Evie Rossi.”

She put her hands in the air in an act of innocence. “This was no-strings attached. I’m not even going to ask you for your number. I don’t want anything from you, Jer.”

I held her chin between my thumb and forefinger. “Not what I meant.” I kissed her firmly. “You’re trouble because instead of running out the door to catch my red eye, I’d like to take you over that desk right there. Fuck you once more? Twice?”

Her eyes widened. “Shit.”

I nodded. “Maybe I will.”

I growled when she climbed into my lap. Her naked body was warm and soft.

“I don’t want to be the reason you miss your flight.” She kissed my neck. “But I do. I want you to put me over the desk.” She purred. “What have you done to me? I’m saying all kinds of things I shouldn’t.”

My cock twitched. It wouldn’t be long before it was hard and ready to go again. Not with a woman like Evie rubbing her tits against my chest.

There were bigger problems though. I couldn’t stay in Newton Hills. Another day here was a complication I didn’t want to risk.

I looked around the room. I spotted the laptop.

“Is this where you write?” I asked.

“Sometimes. I try to sneak down here when I can. And I stay late some nights.”

“And you’ve never brought another man down here?”

She chewed on her lip. “I guess you did hear that. You’re the first.”

I squeezed her ass. It wasn’t any of my damn business. But I suddenly felt territorial. I didn’t want to picture her with another man. Not here. Not sharing the secrets she did with me tonight. It felt personal. Even though I knew I wasn’t worthy of her confidence. I wasn’t that guy. The wine portrayed me as someone I used to be.

I motioned toward her computer. “What are you going to do with all those screenplays? You can’t let them go to waste.”

She shrugged, running a finger over my bare chest. “Probably nothing. Oscar-worthy scripts that will never see the light of day.” She sighed.

I stared at the ceiling. Her hand settled on my cock. I groaned when she circled her fingers around it. “Evie, I have to—”

She layered a blanket on the cold floor and slid to her knees. Oh fuck.

She worked my dick up and down. The instant her tongue touched the tip it was hard as the concrete she knelt upon. I was transfixed as her lips wrapped around the tip. In one swallow, she sucked me to the back of her throat.

I wasn’t wrong. She was a vixen. A sex goddess on her knees, blowing me like a porn star.

“Hell, baby.” I grabbed a fistful of her hair as she slurped and sucked my shaft.

I’d just come, so this was going to take a while. And I was going to enjoy every second of her hot little mouth on my dick.

But then it hit me.

A moment of clarity. The kind of clarity that usually came during near-death experiences. Men talked about that flash when their life was like a movie reel. Priorities were checked. Promises reignited. Meaningful dreams established. For me, I could only explain what happened to me as a moment of pure bliss. It was the ecstasy of Evie that gave me the thought. What she did to my body put me in a kind of state to be suddenly open to an insane idea. But it didn’t matter if it was insane. It was crystal clear.

Her tongue trailed over the thick vein running along my engorged shaft.

I moaned when I hit the back of her throat again. Shit, she was good at this. The more she sucked, the more the vision came into full view. It made sense. Brilliant sense.

“Evie,” I rasped.

Her wide eyes opened. Fuck. She looked perfect like that. On her knees with my cock in her mouth. Faced with the choices ahead of me, I knew this wasn’t nearly as insane as it was about to sound. There was merit in my idea.