Page 5 of The Billionaire in Her Bed

Chapter Two

Who was this guy, and where had he been her whole life?

Current dry spell notwithstanding, Brooke was no stranger to sex.

But her experience hadn’t prepared her for this. For Eli staring down at her as if she were a Christmas present and he was trying to decide how to unwrap her, those piercing, almost translucent blue eyes heating her from the inside out. The fingers inside her curved and penetrated deeper, hitting that secret spot that made her cry out with pleasure.

“Like that, do you?” The cocky bastard had the nerve to chuckle.

A smile played around the corners of her lips. Two could play that game.

“Mm-hmm.” She snaked a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down so her tongue could trace the shell of his ear. She worked her way down to the lobe, taking it between her teeth and giving it a not-too-gentle tug. “How about you? Like that?”

He moaned. “Tease.”

“I’m the tease?” She ran her hands down his back, pulling his shirt from his waistband and slipping underneath to touch him. He had way too many clothes on. She’d have to do something about that. Soon. “You’re the one making me crazy.”

His eyes, heavy-lidded and darkened with desire, met hers. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a bit longer.”

“Jerk.”

She writhed underneath him, doing her damnedest to force his fingers deeper inside her. He punished her by withdrawing them entirely.

“You’ll be singing a different tune before the night is over.”

“Promises, promises.”

“That’s right.” He hooked his thumbs under the strings of her thong. “And I intend to keep them.”

She didn’t need any coaxing to lift her hips, allowing him to drag her panties down her legs with an excruciating slowness.

“At this rate, we’ll be here until dawn.”

“What’s wrong with that?” He pulled her panties over one foot, then the other. “I don’t have anywhere better to be. You?”

“No.” She dropped one leg to the floor, opening herself to him. “But I’m worried about Miguel.”

He froze with his hand in midair, her panties dangling from one finger. “Boyfriend?”

“Barback. He’s on mornings this week.” She moistened her lips and trailed a fingernail along his bicep. “I’m afraid we might traumatize him if he walks in on us.”

He tossed the thong aside and reached for the hem of her skirt. “We’ll lock the door.”

“He has a key.” She closed a fist around his upper arm. Or tried to. Her fingers barely spanned half the circumference of his meaty bicep.

OMFG.Eli might be a Manhattan yuppie, but he clearly found the time to stay in shape, be it at the gym or running in Central Park or some combination of the above. She shut her eyes and pictured him shirtless and sweaty, fresh from a workout and in need of a hot shower and someone to help scrub his back.

The wet brush of his lips on the sensitive skin behind her knee woke her from her daydream. “Then I guess traumatizing Miguel is a chance we’ll have to take.”

He shoved at her skirt. She cooperated again, raising her ass so he could hike it up to her waist.

“Now you.” She twisted her fingers in the soft fabric of his shirt.

“Fair enough.” He helped her yank it over his head, apparently in too much of a hurry to unbutton it. She slid her hands across his chiseled pecs and traveled down his eight-pack, only stopping when she reached the button on his waistband.

He shot to his feet, and for a minute, she thought she’d done something wrong. But then he shucked off his pants and boxer briefs, leaving him gloriously naked. He stretched out on the futon beside her, the hard length of his erection pressing against her belly.

“This has to go.” He fingered the neckline of her blouse.