A Billionaire for Christmas

“I trust you,” I told him. “I trust you to be careful with my body, and I trust that you won’t lead me on in any way. That’s a good start, isn’t it?”

Before he could say anything, I pushed forward, my words tumbling out rapidly. “And what I can tell you for sure is that I don’t have any intentions of becoming emotionally wrapped up in you. I am attracted to you. Crazy attracted to you. Turn-my-insides-into-mush kind of attracted to you, but I’ve always been able to separate attraction from real feelings. I’ve been crazy attracted to men before, given a few blow jobs to some of them, even, but I’ve only fallen in hard love with those two guys. Guys I hadn’t slept with while the falling was occurring. Maybe that can help you trust me? It’s not very reassuring, I suppose. I don’t know what else to say. I hope that doesn’t make you tell me no, though, because, Dylan, I want this. I want to learn from you. I want—”

He cut me off, crashing his mouth into mine. His lips were firm and persuasive, telling mine exactly where to move and what speed. Telling them when to open and take more. I responded eagerly, matching the strokes of his tongue with my own as soft whimpers escaped from my throat. My sounds made him groan and made me wet—wetter than I already was, that is. He swept me up with his kiss. He took me from the solid ground into a spiraling, dizzy windstorm.

He continued to hold my wrists above my head, which I found both highly erotic and frustrating at the same time. I wanted to caress his jaw. I wanted to slip my hands underneath his sweater. I wanted to draw the pads of my thumbs across his nipples and then trail my fingers down, down, down.

Unable to touch him the way I wanted, the rest of me became more antsy beneath him, as though trying to make up for my restrained hands. I squirmed and bucked, trying to get as much of my body to come into contact with his as possible. But he counteracted every one of my moves, bracing his body higher above me, holding himself away.

It took me a few minutes to realize he was purposefully taunting me.

Then it took me another few minutes to realize I really liked this too. I mean, I hated it. But as the torture continued, a tension built inside me, low and deep. A hum that spread through my core and out to my limbs. By the time he lowered himself to grind across my crotch, I was already halfway to an orgasm.

From there, the hum intensified quickly. Each thrust of his pelvis against mine sent me closer to the edge. He still had his pants on! I still had on panties, and yet he’d found the perfect spot, hit it on every stroke, making the hum swell and expand and consume and take over and buzz, buzz, buzz, and…

Suddenly it was all gone at the sound of a clearing throat.

Guess when I’d sent the agent away I’d forgotten that he’d also be coming back.

Whoops.

I wasn’t sorry. I wasn’t sorry at all.Chapter SevenDylanI’d never lost an erection so fast.

Thank God, since it made it easier to scramble to my feet and distract Jeff Jones so Audrey could clothe herself privately. I was sweating and panicked as I diverted him back to the foyer. Behind me, I could hear the girl giggling.

It wasn’t funny. It wasn’t.

That she was laughing was a splendid example of why our age difference was a big problem. She was obviously not mature enough to handle matters that required adult responsibility. I was disappointed in myself for not being the adult from the start. If she hadn’t been so tenacious, so assertive, so beguiling, I wouldn’t have lost control of the situation.

And I had lost control. Really lost it. Almost gone too far, even.

The whole thing had left me flustered, and now there was a real chance I wasn’t going to get this apartment.

“It’s...I’m...this isn’t at all what it looks like,” I explained to the agent. I ran a hand through my hair, creating a floppy mess if I were to judge by the uneven way it felt on my scalp. “I sincerely apologize. It was inappropriate and discourteous and—”

“Just tell me one thing,” Mr. Jones interrupted. “She’s not really your daughter, is she?”

“No! God, no.” I thought about it after I’d answered, what that must have looked like to the man when he’d walked in on us. It had been bad enough that we’d behaved so badly in an flat I hadn’t yet leased. The fact that he’d also thought we were father and daughter was…

Well. Maybe it was funny.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why we said that she was.” The grin that had slid onto my face made my latest apology seem insincere.