The Billionaire's Secret

Good man. I need to give him a raise.

Sanniyah's eyes are wide and bright, and her breath is coming in shallow, heaving gasps that do amazing things to her perfect, caramel colored tits. They are teasing me, hidden away as they are underneath that no-nonsense black dress. I mean to have that dress lying in a puddle on the helicopter floor in a second. My fingers itch to shove her panties aside and let my tongue dance into her wetness.

But then Sanniyah groans, arching herself away from me. The shining hunger leaves her eyes and she blinks like she is awakening from a drugged sleep. "Carter..." she says, and her voice is an apology.

I swallow back a rush of frustrated desire. "Are you okay?" I ask instead.

"The pilot," she whispers, darting her eyes towards Benson.

I sigh and pull back, plopping next to her. She doesn't know Benson like I do. He's been approached at least a million times by the tabloids to sell his stories and every time he comes directly to me. The man is loyal to a fault, even though their offers keep getting more and more lucrative. I match their offers every time. Loyalty is one thing, but cold hard cash is an even more effective way to buy silence. "I can wait," I tell her instead. "I don't plan on rushing, tonight."

Sanniyah smiles softly and it is so damn beautiful I feel my heart stop. "I thought you don't plan, period," she says.

"Ah, you were listening?"

"I'm really good at it. Part of the job and all."

"Well how about this." I lean in, brushing an escaped strand of hair behind her ear and bringing my lips close to it. She shivers and I swear it sends a shockwave directly to my groin. I want to make her do that again too. "Listen to what I'm saying. Are you listening?"

She nods, and bites her lip.

"Tonight I'm going to feed you dinner. Watch you eat. And then?"

I pause deliberately, unable to finish my sentence. I can see her heart beating rapidly under her skin. I am as hard as a diamond.

"And then?" she prompts.

"Still listening?"

"Yes."

"I'm going to watch you eat. And then I'm going to watch your face while I eat you."

She flushes over her whole body, her caramel skin suddenly scalding to the touch. I can see her squirming and I know the idea appeals to her. I make a mental note to send my sister an extravagant gift for having the good sense to hire Sanniyah Jones to plan her wedding.

She squirms again. "I wasn't...I wasn't sure...that you..." she clears her throat and looks me in the eye again. "Let me try that again," she says, tossing her head, and my mind is filled with thoughts of how her neck tastes. "I wasn't sure you liked me, Carter. You were so...formal."

"Ah." I lean back. Benson is slowing as we hover over Annika Island before our descent. I am almost in my safe haven. My thoughts are consumed with Sanniyah and the image of her naked body spread out before me. I swallow, hard, then laugh lightly. "I guess I'm old-fashioned."

She laughs loudly. "Hardly." Her hand rests on my thigh. "You don't strike me as a gentleman."

I place my hand over my heart. "Why, I'm insulted," I feign shock, then grab her hand and deliberately move it up my leg. She is laughing and blushing in an instant and I am saved from having to explain my paranoia. She doesn't need to know that I am crazy. She doesn't need to know she is dealing with a broken man.

Chapter Fifteen

Sanniyah

This strawberry torte is divine.

This wine is entirely too drinkable.

It is just us, on the deck above the bay. The waves are shushing against the shore like they want the whole world to quiet down so we can be alone. There is no noise except the clink and scrape of my fork as I try to gather every last delicious morsel. I take another sip of the wine, letting the nectar slip like honey down my throat, and I watch Carter watch the ocean.

He is gorgeous. I'm half drunk on the wine and completely drunk on him.

He sets his plate down on the table between us and points to where he was looking. "Down there, right? Right on the beach?"

I lean forward, uncertain of what he means until it clicks that he is talking about Camilla's wedding. I banish the lascivious thoughts of what he could have meant and nod.

"That's what I pictured the minute I first came here," I agree. "The weather in October should be perfect."

"What do you think of decorations?" he asks me, cocking an eyebrow.

I lean back in my deck chair and consider as I balance the dessert plate on my lap. "You really don't need much," I say. "The surroundings are enough."

"I was imagining fairy lights in the trees," Carter says

I press my lips together. "Fairy lights are a little...cliche," I tell him, "I mean, in my professional opinion." I lick the last few crumbs of the strawberry torte off my fork. Carter's is watching me, the heat of his gaze threatening to set me ablaze.

"Your professional opinion?" he echoes, with his eyebrows raised.

There it is, that hunger again. I see it in his eyes, dimly lit by the dancing torchlight and I am instantly on fire.

"Yes," I say primly, arching my back like I am stretching. His eyes go right to my breasts. "Professional." I set my plate down firmly.

"I think I've had enough of professional for one evening," he growls. His eyes move up to my lips and rest there, blatantly. He watches them, and I see him bit his own lip in reply. "Remember what I told you in the helicopter?"

I am panting in an instant. "Yes," I answer.

"You were listening?"

"Yes."

"Tell me what I said."

"You said," I swallow hard. "You said you were going to watch me eat."

"And then?"

I gulp. "And then you were going to eat me," I whisper.

"Sanniyah?"

"Yes, Carter?"

"I hope you are done eating."

My voice fails me. I can only nod as he deliberately sets his plate down and steps across the space between us. He crouches right in front of me, his thighs straining against the fabric of his trousers, filling up the entire field of my vision. He is right there.

I am waiting. I know his kisses, my whole body remembers everything down to the slightest detail. I want him to kiss me like that again, for his lips to keep the promise his eyes are making, but instead of bringing his lips to mine, he brings his fingers up.

His thumb swipes across my lower lip, p

ressing in. "So soft," he murmurs, his voice husky. He cups my chin and tilts my head upward, lifting us both to our feet.

I know for certain that he's going to kiss me now, so I close my eyes, waiting.

But he doesn't kiss me. Instead his thumb sinks in between my teeth.

It's so possessive, so cocky that I want to bite him. But the thrill of his skin on my lips is too much, and like a reflex I close them around his thumb tightly. I hear him hiss a soft curse, and then his other hand is around the back of my neck. Swiping the pad of his thumb along my teeth, he lets it slide in deeper.