Billionaire Baby Daddy
When the popcorn was ready, I put it into a bowl, grabbed a couple of glasses, got the orange juice and vodka, then placed it all on a serving tray and headed to the living room.
“Ah, that smells great,” he said.
He looked up as I walked in and smiled, then stood to help me with the tray. Once we were both reseated, he took the cap off the vodka.
“Single or a double?” he asked.
“Make it a double.”
No clue why I'd chosen that, or whether it was a wise course of action, but it was done and I had to go along with it.
“Feeling adventurous, huh? Well, I can’t be outdone by a girl,” he winked. “Guess I'll make mine a double, as well.”
He poured and mixed the drinks, and I settled back on the sofa even nearer to him than I had earlier. Our legs were practically touching, and all I had to do was lean a little to the left and I'd be in his arms. He handed me my drink and I immediately took a big gulp—probably a little too big. The champagne had definitely gone to my head, and a sober me wouldn’t think drinking a vodka double was the wisest thing to do under the circumstances. But sometimes you just need to let go and lose control for a while.
When I lowered my glass, he was staring at me. Our eyes locked and an incredible wave of desire rushed through my entire body, catalyzed by the alcohol. Timidly, I smiled and looked away. He shifted closer.
“Umm . . . Let's watch the movie,” I half whispered trying to avoid the pull between us as I placed my glass on the table next to the popcorn.
“Yeah . . . movie. Right. Let's watch,” he replied softly, a hint in his voice of what I could only guess was the same struggle I was facing.
I shifted on the sofa, trying to get comfortable. I ended up leaning ever so slightly against him.
His arm slipped around my shoulder and pulled me in closer. I rested my head on his shoulder, trying to focus on the movie playing.
The gentle touch of his fingertips stroked down my cheek as he brushed a strand of my hair back. It felt like a familiar touch, but still sent a shiver down my arm. I imagined my hair had wandered into his face and he was simply repositioning it, but then his fingers retraced their path and moved down until they came to rest under my chin. Slowly, he guided my face to turn toward him and then tilted my chin up until our eyes met. My pulse quickened.
His hand threaded through my hair as he leaned close, his lips covering mine possessively, but tenderly. I melted into his embrace, into the mad, desperate, passionate kiss I had dreamed about since our first one. Only, this kiss was hungry—more ravenous than that of a pack of winter-starving wolves.
Asher growled as my fingers drifted over his broad shoulders and chest, sighing as I finally touched bare skin at his neck. He groaned as I traced the column of his throat with my fingertips, excitement building within me. I wanted him under my touch more than I had ever wanted any man.
Through a fury of kissing and hands exploring, I began unbuttoning Asher’s dress shirt, tracing the contour of his well-defined chest as I did. It was more than I could handle.
I stood abruptly and disengaged myself from our mad embrace.
“Follow me,” I commanded, trying to catch my breath.
He nodded and followed me to my bedroom where things took a very different turn. A strange impulse came over me and, in a sudden rush of power, I took over. I wanted to make the most powerful man I’d ever known see what it was like to not be in control for a change.
“I'm in charge here,” I insisted as I removed my T-shirt to expose my black, lace bra. “And, you're going to do exactly what I say.” I unbuttoned my jeans and slid them off, standing before him in matching boy shorts.
He grinned cheekily and reached out to touch me, but I slapped his hand away.
“No, no, no,” I said. “You were not given permission. Now, if you can’t follow orders, I'm putting my clothes back on. Do you understand?”
My blood was racing through my veins, hot and eager. Part of me wanted to give in and let his hands explore every inch of my body, but another part wanted to show Asher Sinclair that I was capable of power and dominance.
And that was the part that won.
“I'll do whatever you say,” he responded.
“That's what I like to hear,” I said. “Now take your pants off—nice and slow.”
He did exactly what I instructed—and that's when the fun began.
Chapter Fifteen
Asher