Heart of the Billionaire (Taming The Bad Boy Billionaire 7)

“Shh,” he shushed before a quiet chuckle echoed up from around my thighs. “Would you like me to smash your fingers in a box full of diamonds?”

I shrugged and sent a helpless sigh into the steam. “Hey! What are you doing down there? Oh my gosh! It feels wonderful!”

My eyes snapped open for the first time as I felt the unexpected and unbearably warm sensation of a moist kiss between my legs. A gasp tore out of me as I threw out my arms for balance, bracing them against the tile walls.

“James, I—”

“Quiet,” he commanded, hitching one of my legs over his shoulder as he shot me a professional frown. “I require complete concentration.”

I giggled nervously, swaying again as I tried to balance upon one foot. “Okay but seriously, you can’t do this in here.”

Clouds of steam wafted up around us as a torrent of hot water rained down.

“I’m going to... I think I’m gonna faint.”

Completely ignoring me, he ran his tongue along the inside of my thigh, and then his head disappeared somewhere between my legs. My back arched in pleasure as my hands gripped desperately onto the soap dispenser and even the showerhead above me.

“Fainting is good,” he murmured between kisses, closing his eyes as the water drenched his hair and the rippling muscles in his shoulder and back. Every now and then, his lips curved up in a smile, and he gave me a naughty bite. “Fainting is very English. Our women swoon all the time.”

A million sarcastic comebacks died on the tip of my tongue as I surrendered myself completely. Only a few seconds in, was putty in his hands. I was nothing more than a willing victim, a doll to be moved and positioned however he liked. A moment later, he grabbed my other leg and threw it over his shoulder as well, then lifted effortlessly to his feet with my entire body wrapped around his neck like some kind of writhing scarf. Then he bit me again, and every other thought flew from my mind.

There was nothing else to hold on to up there, so I weaved my fingers through his dark mane. Knowing Ferdie was gone and no one else was home, I threw back my head and cried out aloud. It seemed nothing in the world could stop our passion as James dug his fingers into my thighs and I came.

Finally, just when I thought I was honestly going to pass out between the heat and acute pleasure of it all, he let go. I fell backward with a shriek, but he caught me a second later, one hand gripping the small of my back and the other on my leg that was wrapped securely around his waist.

Before I even realized what was happening, he was slamming me into the wall, panting into my shoulder as he knocked me senseless with thrust after exquisite thrust. My mouth fell open as my legs tightened around him. My nails raked his shoulders, and I held on for dear life. More pressure built inside me, so much I feared I would surely implode. James cried a primal howl into my shoulder as his body hardened beneath me, letting me know he was just as close as I was, that we were ready to go there together, that we had both reached the edge of our limits.

“James, I’m going to c—” I started, only to be interrupted by a cheerful voice that obviously wasn’t my lover’s.

“Are you guys here? We brought scones.”

James’s eyes shot open, as I slipped suddenly against the tile. He barely caught me as the two of us tumbled apart, and we landing in a breathless pile on the shower floor.

That delicious pressure vanished in the blink of an eye, and I dug my fingernails into the sides of my legs, shaking with silent, tortured laughter. “I freaking hate your friend. You know that?”

James pounded his head against the wall, trying to slow his frantic breathing as his body struggled to change pace. “He’s not my friend. He’s a menace, one that must be destroyed.”

As if on cue, Nick hollered again, his voice as bright and energetic as the smile that was no doubt plastered across his insufferably perfect face. “Hurry it up! Coffee’s getting cold!’

James took a deep breath, then resigned to turning off the tap, still looking like a man who had a solitary thing on his mind, a thing that certainly had nothing to do with scones. Honestly, I wasn’t sure it was sex either; in all likelihood, it involved a sharpened spear, followed by a swanky Manhattan funeral. “After you,” he said, with a roll of his eyes.

I slipped out of the shower in front of him, wrapped myself in a towel, and cautiously pushed the door open.

When James stepped out behind me, with a bronze towel wrapped around his waist, Nick looked up with a bright smile, offering out a paper bag. “Scone?”

I knew when I met James that his life was crazy, at least by comparison to the lives of all the normal people I knew, normal people like me. The money alone elevated things to a whole other level, and his whimsically impossible personality didn’t exactly help. I also knew immediately that he had crazy-high standards. As if jet-setting and the castle in the clouds wasn’t enough, I had recently learned that a small mountain range in Peru would soon be named after the man. The thing I had no way of knowing when we met, though, was that James’s friends were just as insane as he was.

Abby walked into the bedroom. “Oh. You’re not dressed. Sorry. We didn’t know.”

I grabbed a white robe and slipped into it. I then handed James one.

“Can you please wait downstairs?” James asked, slipping the robe on.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Nick gestured excitedly toward his phone. “You should thank me. I just signed you up for the first-ever recreational flight to the moon.”

“You’re dead to me.” James stormed across the room in a huff, pausing only to give Abby a cursory kiss on the cheek. “And by that, I mean both of you.”

“But I brought scones,” Nick repeated, baffled as to why his presence during a sexual interlude might possibly present a problem or even a minor inconvenience. “You love scones.”