An Accidental Date with a Billionaire

“Taylor?” she called out.

Nothing.

Oh my God, had he left her here?

“Good morning, or should I say, good afternoon?” an all-too-familiar deep voice said from behind her. Just his voice alone sent a shiver down her spine and made her body ache for more of the pleasure he could give her so frigging easily it almost pissed her off. Almost. Because a girl had to respect on-demand orgasms delivered in such a handsome package. “Sorry, I was tired.”

“Obviously,” he said with amusement. “I see you found the clothes I ordered.”

“The obscene amount of clothing you ordered in five different sizes?” Snorting, she faced him…and lost her breath right away.

How did he do that?

Steal her thoughts, and breath, and intelligence?

He wore a black suit, a maroon dress shirt, and a black tie. His green eyes were strikingly intense, and his hard jaw held a hint of a five o’clock shadow she longed to get her hands on. “Well, I wanted to give you options. To be sure you’d find something you’re comfortable in.”

“Still. You bought too much.”

He waved a hand.

She played with a metal sculpture on the table. “Are you going to work or something?”

He frowned. “Huh?”

“Your clothes…” She gestured at his suit. “Are you going to work?”

“Oh, that.” He smoothed his suit, offering her a sheepish smile. “No. I had a meeting this morning, but it’s done. I left a note for you, in case you woke up. I got back five minutes ago.”

“I see,” she managed to say, admiring how nicely his suit fit him from behind.

“You hungry?”

“Starving,” she admitted. Her stomach rumbled loudly as if in agreement.

“Uh…” He glanced at it. “Clearly.”

Sam’s cheeks heated. “Shut up.”

“Tell that to your stomach.”

She followed him into the kitchen. He smelled as good as she remembered—no, better. “See? You’re annoying me, and I’m already regretting staying. I should’ve gone hom

e last—”

Without warning, he backed her up against the cabinets, cupping her hips and pressing his body to hers in all the right places…and yet somehow managing to not touch her where she needed him most. “Shhh. None of that, now. If you’re good, I’ll make you very happy you stayed.”

She gripped his biceps—geez, they were huge, hot, and rock-hard—and the kitchen spun around them at dangerous speeds. “I’m never good.”

“Neither am I,” he said, smirking.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” The desire in her tone made her voice almost unrecognizable.

He pushed off the counter, leaving her alone and trembling, just like last night. “Let’s see if we can get some food in that angry belly of yours. What’s your order?”

“Hmm,” she said distractedly, staring at the window where he’d, well… She headed that way, wanting to put some distance between them.

He tugged on his tie, loosening it while studying her. He had a way of looking at a girl that made her uneasy, bare, and impossibly turned on—all at once. “I pulled out the local Chinese place’s menu. Unless you’d prefer something else? I just have a habit of Chinese on Sundays.”