Tapping The Billionaire (Billionaire Bad Boys 1)

Best game ever.

But it was half past three in the morning, and I had a six thirty-five flight to catch. A contract meeting was sending me home today, and because he’d tacked on an additional meeting tomorrow morning with one of our regular investors in the name of efficiency, today meant one day earlier than Kline. No need to make more than one trip, he’d said. Now we had to face the consequences of that decision.

I hadn’t packed a thing and needed a shower. As badly as I wanted to stay in bed, wrapped up in him, I had to get my ass moving.

I sat up, the sheet pooling around my waist. “You said that three hours and two orgasms ago.”

“Two orgasms? I thought it was three…” He was lying on his belly, resting his chin on the pillow, his eyes locked on my bared breasts. “If you can’t remember the last one, I’m demanding a re-do.”

A re-do. The bastard.

He licked his lips and moved his gaze from my breasts, to my waist, until finally making the slow circuit to my mouth.

Jesus. Kline flashing me smoldering glances during business meetings was dangerous enough, but this? That look. Those heated blue eyes. His sexy, bedhead hair. And that tight ass. It should be illegal.

“Stop smoldering at me!” I smacked his shoulder. “I have to get in the shower. I have a flight to catch, remember?”

He pounced on me, wrapped his arms around my body, and slammed my back into the bed before I could stop him. “Don’t leave.” His mouth found mine, his teeth tugging on my bottom lip.

“Stay here with me. Let me ask you questions and kiss these lips.” He kissed me deeper. “And touch this perfect body.” His fingers slid up my sides, resting below the curve of my breasts. “And put my mouth on you.” He punctuated that statement by gliding those devious hands down my belly, until his fingers were touching me where I throbbed.

I’d never had marathon sex. Okay, before Kline, I’d never actually had sex. But I’d never experienced this feeling before. I’d never been so attracted, so turned on, so undeniably in love with someone, where the only thing I wanted to do was spend every day for the rest of forever touching him, kissing him, fucking him.

It was overwhelming. And amazing. And should have had me running for the hills. But when it came to Kline, I didn’t want to run, unless it was toward his opened arms.

I trusted him. Cared for him. Loved him. I wanted him and only him. He was everything I’d always dreamed of, plus a million things I never even knew I wanted.

“Kiss me, baby,” he whispered against my lips.

“I am kissing you,” I retorted, my mouth still pressed against his.

“No. Fucking kiss me,” he growled, his tongue slipping past my lips and making me moan. “I’ll never get tired of this. I’ll never not want this. With you. Only you.”

“I’m going to miss my flight and it’ll be all your fault,” I whimpered.

“Fuck the flight. Fuck the meeting. Stay here and fuck my brains out.” That devilish mouth moved to my neck and then my collarbone, sucking softly while his tongue licked along the sensitive skin.

My hands found his ass, tugging him toward me. “You don’t play fair.” My hips arched up into his, my body begging for him to connect us.

“With you, I’ll never play fair.” He pressed against me, the tip of his cock moving through my wetness. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to keep doing this with me. For-fucking-ever.”

“We’re gonna fuck forever?” I teased.

His laugh vibrated my skin. “Yes. Me and you. Fucking, kissing, groping, making love, coming. All the goddamn time. Forever.”

“I want this in writing.”

He moved away from me, rustling inside the nightstand and finding a complimentary pen clipped to a notepad with the hotel’s logo written along the top. He tossed the pad across the room and put the pen in his mouth, removing the cap.

“Pretty sure contracts need paper…”

“Not this contract.” He settled between my thighs again, eyes locked on my belly. The tip of the pen touched my skin and I shivered. “This is a different kind of contract, baby.” Blue eyes peeked up at me, smirking.

The pen moved across my skin, but I couldn’t see what he was writing, his messy hair blocking my view.

“Excuse me, sir, but what are you doing? Are you branding me?”

“Stop calling me sir. I’m trying to focus here and you’re making me hard.”

“You’ve been hard for the past eight hours. What’s new?”

“You’d think you would have tried to help me with this difficult situation. Honestly, Georgia, I’m disappointed. You really need to work a little harder at this whole girlfriend thing.”