The Billionaires: The Stepbrothers (Lover's Triangle 3)

“You already know that answer.” Looking a bit out of sorts, she said, “I need the ladies’ room.” She whirled around and started to march off but returned to him two seconds later. “How did you find me at the St. Francis, anyway?”

“How’d you find me at the Crestmont?” he countered with a crooked brow.

“By making a hell of a lot of phone calls.”

“Well, there you go. I have a hell of a lot of people willing to do that for me.” He flashed another grin. Then added, “Bathroom’s down the side hall, toward the back, on the right.”

“Thank you.” She spun around again and threaded her way through the mass of people.

Michael’s full attention was fixated on Scarlet’s enticing backside and the small, tight ass he wanted to fuck.

He wondered if she was as spirited and adventuresome in the bedroom as she was out of it. Decided that was likely the case. And followed her.

Propping a shoulder against a jutting wall from the supply closet on the opposite side of the restrooms, in a dimly lit corner, he folded his arms over his chest and crossed his booted ankles, waiting for her.

When Scarlet caught sight of him minutes later and joined him, she had a curious look on her face. She asked, “Afraid I’d get lost?”

“Not in the least. I suspect you have no trouble at all finding your way around.”

“It took a little wandering about and a leap of faith to locate the entrance to this place. Why so covert about our date?”

“Adds an element of intrigue. I get the feeling you like it that way.”

“I do get a rush from it.”

“Hmph.” He reached for her hand again and tugged her closer to him. Then his head bent to hers and he murmured, “Let’s see what else you get a rush from.”

His lips slid over her glossy ones, which tasted faintly of vanilla and vodka. His groin tightened, his cock straining the zipper of his jeans. He snaked his arm around her and hauled her up against him just as his mouth sealed to hers. To hell with the few people coming and going in this area.

Her lips parted and his tongue swept inside to tangle with hers, sending fire roaring through his veins. Her body melded to his again, in complete surrender, and Michael took what she offered, deepening the kiss, intensifying it, silently telling her how hot he was for her.

Dancing with Scarlet had been an alluring temptation unto itself, with her breasts pressed to his chest and her sensational body rubbing against his. Add a scorching kiss to the scenario and he was quickly losing his mind for her.

The immediate and intense chemistry that had sparked between them when she’d appeared at his table at the lounge earlier had reignited when she’d been grinding along his leg. Now he felt a five-alarm rager building within him, and Michael yearned to do something about it.

Breaking the kiss, he led her across the hall and unhooked the chain blocking the access to the stairwell and the restricted area above that led to the catwalks. He gestured for her to precede him as he secured the chain behind them. At the top of the steps was an alcove shrouded by walls, though the sapphire lights reflected on the outskirts so that he caught the intermittent glimpses of Scarlet in the flickering illumination.

He backed her against a wall and kissed her. Her arms wound around his neck, the fingers of one hand plowing through his hair. Her body writhed, all her enticing curves and arousing femininity teasing his senses. This woman was a drug and he was instantly addicted.

He had one hand on her hip and the other skated up her bare thigh, from the top of her boot to the short hem of her skirt. His fingers slipped behind the material and grazed the triangle of her satin thong. Her drenched thong.

Lightning exploded in his head.

He ripped his mouth from hers. “Fuck,” he ground out. His fingers stroked her pussy lips through the soaked satin. “You’re so fucking wet,” he whispered in her ear.

“How can that possibly be a surprise?” she said on a broken breath.

“Scarlet.” His testosterone shot through the roof. His heart hammered in his chest. “I have to make you come.”

She let out a sexy moan over the clamor of the music and the throng below them. If one of the catwalk dancers ventured to the edge of their stage, he and Scarlet might be discovered. But he’d already noted the women in pattern and they lingerie’s generally stuck to the midsections, where they were better viewed by the audience.

Even if anyone could catch a glimpse at this secluded spot, they’d only see the shadow Michael created with his back to them. Scarlet was well concealed by his larger frame. So he didn’t give another thought to not having absolute privacy. Just fell into the fated moment and let his rampant desire for her take over.

He whisked aside the material at her apex and his fingertips brushed over her moist folds.

Her body jolted at the intimate contact. “Jesus,” she muttered. And tightened her hold on his strands of hair.

Michael stroked slowly at first, then circled her clit, the knot of nerves swelling under his touch. His mouth crashed over hers once more and he engaged her in another blazing lip-lock as two fingers sank into her and he pumped assertively, the heel of his hand rubbing against her clit.