Single Dad's Spring Break: A Billionaire's Second Chance Romance

He licked a long, thick stripe up my slit that had me moaning and writhing uncontrollably.

His tongue licked between my dripping folds and found my clit immediately. He started slowly. Languidly. Licking at it as my juices poured from between my legs. My hands ran over his head as my hips began to roll against his mouth. His hands pinned my hips to his bed, ceasing my movements as his lips puckered around my swollen nub.

My legs were shaking, and my toes were curling. With every stroke he took, he stroked a fire in my gut. That burning sensation started to encompass the whole of my body, and my eyes rolled into the back of my head. His pace became faster, and his tongue pressed deeper. I was breathless as I moaned his name, chanting it like a ritualistic prayer. I was allowed small undulations, the slightest bit of control as I rolled against his tongue. His hands massaged my hips and worked their way down my thighs. He freed my movements, allowing me to buck against his lips as my heels dug into his back.

“Please, baby. Please. I’m so close. Don’t stop. Please.”

Chapter 1

Chanel

Is it too late to change my mind?

“I still can’t believe we’re going on this idiotic cruise.”

“Oh, come on. You’re a journalist. Don’t you take photos and shit?” Ana asked.

“I’m not a photojournalist, woman.”

“Well, don’t pictures have to go with your blog posts or whatever?” she asked.

“Is that really all you think I do? Write blog posts and sit around in my underwear?”

“Well, you’re always so freakin’ happy. I figured it had to be something like that. Fuck knows you’re not getting laid properly.”

“And here we go again,” I said with a sigh.

“Come on. You and I both know you fake your orgasms. All the time.”

“How the hell would you know this? You aren’t in the room when I’m having sex.”

“Oh, come on. With how tightly wound you are? And the fact that you haven’t seriously dated anyone since Rhett isn’t a coincidence.”

“I do not want to hear that name,” I said.

“And I also saw your little bag of fun you packed over there. Th

at’s a new vibrator, isn’t it?”

“Ana!”

“Look. I get it. You’re stuck on your high school sweetheart, but seriously you gotta get off that train and find yourself a new man. Stop sleeping with those non-committal guys you meet during last call at these bars you drag me to. You deserve so much better.”

“I don’t drag you anywhere. The last time we went out, you literally rolled me out of my bed.”

“That’s what you get for giving me a key.”

“I’m gonna take it from you. Or change the locks,” I said.

“And yet, you haven’t. Face it. I’m the only source of excitement in your life, which is pathetic. The money you spent on those vibrators and butt plugs should be spent on lingerie for your man with a thick dick.”

“Get me one of those, and I’ll show you someone willing to buy lingerie. And I don’t have butt plugs.”

“Then I don’t know what the hell that other thing was in there, you nasty freak.”

The time had come for the moment which is the pinnacle of being reminded that you’re getting old. Ana’s and my ten-year high school reunion had come to pass and, like always, our class president outdid herself. Connie Thomas, the preppiest bitch to ever walk the hallways of that damn place, had asked the entire class to RSVP for a Caribbean cruise. A cruise! Who the hell takes a cruise for a ten-year class reunion?

It was just about as ridiculous as it could get.