The Billionaire's Desire - Page 33

It wasn't until I finished that I realized I had sketched out a gorgeously cut blazer with darts at the elbows.

Nakia

¤ ¤ ¤

The way he looked at me.

No one had ever looked at me that way before.

Standing in front of him in only my camisole felt like the most brazen thing I had ever done. I should have said no. But somehow it had felt right. Like because he asked it of me, I knew I would be okay.

The heat from his gaze had seared my skin so thoroughly that I could still feel it when I got home and crawled into bed, exhausted. Sleep would not come.

My insomnia had risen to a fever pitch over the past few days. Night after night I lay staring at the ceiling, listening to the traffic in the street above my basement apartment.

And as I stared, Zachary Kingsley's face swam above me. I had memorized it in perfect, minute detail, from the little quirk of his lips that signified approval, all the way to the swirl of stubble that darkened his sculpted cheeks. I knew each individual whisker and loved each one of them.

I was now a devoted student of Zachary Kingsley. I felt I knew him better than I knew myself.

And from the way he had looked at me, I could almost believe that he wanted to know me too.

That hope was what pushed me forward. I was the first in the office in the morning and the last to leave at night. I spent my sleepless nights doing bleary-eyed research over my wheezing laptop, sourcing his competitors, studying the trends, being the eyes and ears that he needed on the marketplace in order to regain his lofty stature once more. I would do all of this for Zachary and never expected to get paid. In fact I couldn't believe that I was actually getting college credit to be so close to the man that I now realized I was desperate to be with.

My body responded in the only way I knew how. Lifelong virginity had taught me a lot about my own desire, and I knew exactly what I needed in order to be able to fall asleep. Only one thing would calm the riot of desire and anticipation in my brain.

My body cried out to be touched.

And in the stillness and silence of my solo apartment the only person who could do that was me.

I rolled over onto my side and traced my hand along my neck where I had felt his gaze. My skin tingled from the memory of his smile as he looked at me. As I brushed my hand down lower, I traced the outline of my breasts, imagining his hands upon them. My whole body broke out into goose bumps at the thought.

I heard the rush of blood in my ears, louder than the noise outside of my window. I opened my mouth and moaned out the frustrated desire. My fingers wanted to go down, my hand wanted to be clenched between my thighs. My whole core beat a throbbing rhythm, wanting more than wishes to sustain it.

I wanted him. I wanted him more than I've ever wanted anything in my life. It was a need too great to be ignored.

When my fingers slipped down below the waistband of my cotton pajamas and into the crease of my soft folds, the heat they found nearly scalded me. I let one slide inside, slowly, just a little dip into the wetness that was growing slicker by the second. Hastily, I yanked my pajama bottoms down and flung them into the darkness of my room.

The brush of the fabric against the hairs on my upper thighs was enough to make me moan again. I flopped back onto the bed, feeling the softness of the sheets against my bare legs, bicycling them over and over again, entranced by the sensation, but desperate for more of it.

"Zach," I whispered, biting into my knuckle. It was the first time I had dared speak his first name. Until that moment he was only Mr. Kingsley, or more often 'sir.' Something about the way he strode around the office, accepting deference as his due, made 'sir' seem the most appropriate title.

I also like the way he smiled when I called him that. And I liked the way it made my body tingle to make him smile.

The memory of his smile sent my hand between my legs again. My fingers found their mark, and this time it wasn't just an exploration. I pressed frantically into the hardened pearl of my clit, tensing the muscles of my thighs to arch upward into my own hand. My hips bucked upward higher and higher as I rubbed frantically. The little darts of pleasure built and built into a crescendo. I squeezed my eyes shut and raked my free hand over my breast, imagining his lips on my nipple as I tweaked the peak.

The sudden wave that hit me was more violent and all-consuming than anything I had felt before. My legs shot straight out as the bolt of pure lightning hit me and burned me from the inside out. With a wordless, strangled cry, I lost myself in the waves of pleasure that washed over me like the sea crashing into the shore.

And then I squeezed my thigh muscles together and gritted my teeth. Because it hadn't been enough. My own fingers knew myself too well. With them I could never experience the feeling of Zachary's body next to mine. This little session had done nothing to dampen the fire of my ardor, it had only fanned the flames.

And so I rolled back over onto my back, and tried to close my eyes. But sleep was a long time in coming, and morning was very close at hand. I rolled back over and looked at my alarm clock and counted on my fingers.

Only three more hours until I would get to see him again.

Zach

¤ ¤ ¤

She was the best damn worker I had ever seen. Besides myself, of course.

We were working our way through the license agreements, placing frequent calls to my lawyers to find out which clauses could be excised and which ones were airtight. I felt myself slowly regaining control of the company I had built from the ground up. With Nakia at my side, I felt invincible once again.

In the two weeks since she was unceremoniously brought to my door, Nakia James had proven herself to be the most invaluable person in my life. She was the first to arrive in the morning, always slightly breathless in a charmingly eager sort of way. And she frequently left after I did.

"Good morning Mr. Kingsley, sir," she smiled at me that morning, her beautiful face shining up from behind the pile of teetering files. I had set her up with a small desk in the corner of my office, so that I could bark orders at her whenever the mood struck me.

And of course it kept her in view. I found myself looking forward to seeing another piece of her seemingly limitless personal wardrobe. It seemed as if everything was a one-of-a-kind creation. Thus-far, the only brand-name I’d been able to recognize came from her shoes. Vintage and delicate in their age, she always seemed conscious of keeping them beautiful.

Whenever I didn't have a task for her, she would sit with her sketchbook, the tongue poking just out of the corner of her mouth in the most adorable way, as she moved her pencil in tight, controlled strokes. One day I had sent her down to the file room and snooped, and what I saw made my heart start racing. And once I did that, I couldn't stop.

Everything I needed to re-launch my brand was locked up in Nakia's brilliant mind. I could see it. I just had to help her access it.

I’d taken to sketching her designs at my desk as she worked, drawing out the patterns and adding my own personal touches. This woman was talented. With the right direction, she could be a powerhouse in the industry… It was a welcome distraction, and by this point, my fingers had traced every line of her body across wide sheets of paper.

And I had stopped twisting my ring finger, looking for the ring that wasn't there. My finger no longer seemed naked to me. It seemed right...and free.

But work is no place for sentiment. "How are we coming with those agreements?" I slammed my coffee down onto my desk, not caring that it sloshed slightly. Nakia was also really good at cleaning up my messes.

She stood up quickly, darting across the marble floor with a quick tap of her heels. I watched appreciatively as her curvy body swayed slightly in the cute little outfit she’d worn today. "I placed a call to the UK," she said it, pursing her lips in the most adorable way. "We were just waiting for you

to get into the office before we proceeded."

I felt my eyebrows shoot up on my forehead. "What time did you get here?" I asked.

She darted a quick look at the clock on the wall. "Oh, around 6:45 AM."

I nodded. "Good. Good thinking."

She nodded as well. It was nice to have someone on the same wavelength as me.

"Who do we need on that call?" I asked. I had forgotten which deal we were working on right now, that I didn't want to let Nakia know that. If I knew with whom we were speaking, it would subtly remind me what the hell was going on. Nakia had taken over this project so completely that I felt like I was almost superfluous. It was an odd feeling.

Tags: Mia Caldwell Billionaire Romance
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