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

James and I tiptoed down the dark corridor and onto a roped-off stairwell. I never noticed it before, but it was as if James had been searching for it the entire time. It was almost impossible to maneuver in my magnificent gown, and after a dozen missteps and giggles, James actually swept me off my feet to carry me into a deserted hallway on the fourth floor.

That area was far different than the rest of the theater, like a world all its own, rustic and charming in its own special way. The floors were wooden, not blanketed in velvet carpet. Instead of fancy art, the walls were adorned with stage directions and careful instructions for lighting. There were several entrances and exits, and a lone wig was strewn over a lamp in the corner. A half-dozen pairs of mid-century shoes were scattered about the floor.

“Gosh, no,” I said, pulling a few inches back, staring down at him in dread. “This isn’t an impromptu performance, is it? You don’t actually have a part in La Bohème, do you?”

He threw his head back to laugh, then set me gracefull

y down on my feet. “No, Della, I’m most certainly not spiriting you away to the stage as part of some grand humiliation.” He laughed again at the thought. “I did, however, want to show you one of my favorite rooms.” Then, with a grand flourish, he opened a door set deeply into the wall and beckoned me inside.

I couldn’t help but chuckle too. Of course it was among his favorites, because it was an eccentric’s dream, like walking into a bohemian wonderland. The costume closet was long and narrow, packed to the gills with every article of clothing from every historical era I could imagine and some I couldn’t. There were matador capes, clusters of fairy wings, and enough royal garb to dress the entire Windsor family with some to spare. Feather boas, peasant frocks, an entire shelf dedicated to replications of Hamlet’s skull, and countless hats also occupied the space.

“This is just...incredible.” I leaned back into the hangers with a grin, wrapping a faux fur trench coat around my shoulders. “I’m willing to bet we’re not supposed to be in here though.”

James stepped forward with that same mischievous smile on his face and slipped his hands around my waist. “I’m not opposed to doing what I’m not supposed to...especially in here.”

My eyes widened as he pulled me away from the coat racks, setting me gently atop a counter lined with huge bulbs of light. “James, we can’t do that in here!”

“Why not?” He slipped off his tuxedo jacket, parting my legs casually in the process, and stepped between them. “I make a generous donation to the opera every year. Surely that entitles me to a few...perks.”

I leaned back against the mirror, trying to catch my breath. “Like fucking your girlfriend on top of the makeup counter? I don’t think so!”

“Come on, Jones.” He reached under my dress and pulled off my panties in one devilish whoosh. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

Well, when you put it that way...

Somehow, a microsecond later, our positions were reversed. Now, James was pressed against the wall, with shock all over his gorgeous face, while I sank slowly to my knees in front of him.

“Oh, you might be surprised by how adventurous I can be, Mr. Cross,” I said, then yanked down his pants. “Perhaps it’s best to show you.” I offered him no word of warning, no initial caress or kisses or foreplay. One second he was just standing there, staring down at me in shock, and in the next, I had my lips wrapped around him.

“Fuck,” James whispered, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. “I take it back. Y-You have a...you’ve got a great sense of adventure, Della.”

I bit down gently, raking my teeth along his skin as I quoted his own words from the shower: “Quiet! I require complete concentration.”

He was hardly in a position to refuse, but that didn’t stop him from laughing quietly as he wound his fingers into my hair. “You’ve got a bossy streak, too, don’t you?”

I bit down again, and his entire body stiffened in reply. “I said quiet!”

He laughed.

In his defense, he really tried to obey, but I’d always been very skilled in that particular game, so it didn’t take long for him to lose control. His back arched, his hips swayed into me, and he threw an arm across his face just to muffle the sound of his own labored breathing.

I had never enjoyed that as much as I did then. There was something deeply fulfilling about watching the effect the slightest movement on my part had on his manly physique. He responded to my every touch, breathlessly surrendering himself to my every command. Faster and faster I moved, forcing him to try harder and harder to keep himself together.

Finally, when he couldn’t take it any longer, he tried to pull away. “Della...” His shoulder blades pressed against the cabinet wall as he tried to catch his breath. “I-I’d really like to... I need to fuck you...now.”

A little grin crept across my face, but I refused to stop what I was doing. If anything, his begging only enticed me to do it at a quicker pace, driving him mad.

“Fuck...” he said again, barely a whisper. He dropped his head against the wall again, moaned quietly, and closed his eyes as every muscle in his stomach went simultaneously taut. His lips parted with a silent gasp, but this time, when I raked my teeth across him, he let out a sharp cry. “Please,” he begged without shame. “Enough!” Another moan escaped his lips, and his breath caught in his chest. “Let me... Della, I must fuck you.”

My lips closed over him.

He clamped his hands down on my shoulders. “Della, please!” he cried.

“I love the word please. That’s all you had to say.” I stood, then unzipped my dress and let it fall to the ground. He was mesmerized and couldn’t stop staring at my lacy, red and black lingerie.

“You are so beautiful,” he said, picking me up and carrying me to a spot that was much softer, laying me on a dozen silk blankets.

I touched his face. “I can’t stop thinking about you, today... tomorrow... always.”