Page 16 of Date The Billionaire

It made me smile to think of her. She’d done so much for me and never complained, not even when she was in the depths of her own grief when her child—my father—died. I settled against the door, my head nestled on the oak panel, as I thought about my grandmother. No, she wouldn’t put up with this nonsense from either of those women. She’d likely take a baseball bat to them.

That made me outright laugh.

She would definitely do that, especially if she’d had a nip of gin before she met with the two harridans.

I stood up, swiped at my face once more, took a pull of the hand disinfectant in a dispenser and wished I could bathe in the stuff after suffering Arabella’s touchy-feeling escapades, and opened the door.

“Look, I’m done for the day, alright? Unless you want your billionaire to walk off the set, you’ll listen to me, got it?” I gave her a look that she could not mistake, and for the first time the woman backed off without another word.

Good.

I went to my room, and despite being in water for far too much of the day, I turned on the en-suite shower and stepped in after I stripped down. I let the hot water wash away that other woman’s touch and memory. I’d turned on the music player provided in the room, a selection of my own choosing, and let the music fill my head.

A song by a British band came on, a deep, bluesy sounding guitar introduced a song that asked if the singer wanted to know about the woman that has him obsessed. I could totally get why I loved that song now. I wanted to know more about Laney. I wanted to know if she felt the same.

Most of all, I wanted to know what it would feel like to sink into her wet heat. I groaned, I couldn’t help it, and let my hand find the part of me that ached the most. Soap made my light stroke a slick heaven.

What would it feel like when she touched me there? Would it feel even better than I imagined? That led me to wondering what it would be like to watch her swallowing me.

My hand stroked faster, harder, as hot water cascaded down my body, making my nipples tight as I thought about her tongue stroking the tight buds, then down to wrap around my hard cock. More, fuck, more. I pictured her swallowing me, those impish eyes of hers teasing me as my cock disappeared down her throat.

“Fuck!” I spit the word out as I fantasized about the woman with captivating eyes. It was those eyes more than anything that got me.

I knew she’d be sweet, dirty, but oh so fucking sweet.

I’d stroke under her chin as she took my come, as she swallowed all I had to give her, those eyes telling me how much she adored everything I gave her.

I slowed my pace. I wanted this to last. I had a lot of time to kill and a lot of hot water to get through.

I leaned back against the wet wall, trying to slow myself down, but I thought of Laney bent over, her ass high in the air as I bent her over the bed. She’d be whimpering for me to fuck her. I knew she would because I wouldn’t put her on her knees until she was begging for it.

“Laney.” I whispered her name out loud as I imagined her ass, all that long red hair splayed down her back, pictured how pale her skin would be, and then my cock, sliding between her thighs, straight into her tight walls.

I couldn’t stop it, the explosion came, and I was helpless to hold back. Laney was just too much to resist. I’d felt that smooth ass, I’d held it and kneaded it as I made her come on my tongue. I’d just not seen her totally naked.

That would be the first thing I’d rectify when we got out of this hellhole. I would take her somewhere, Paris if she wanted, and strip her down until we were skin to skin.

That’s how I wanted her right now. If she said she wanted to do nothing but talk, that’s what I would give her. But if she said she wanted more, I would give her more than she’d ever bargained for.

I had to lean against the wall as the final burst jolted me, almost bringing me to my knees. I needed her. Only Laney. Not Arabella, not some other woman, just Laney.

This show couldn’t end soon enough.

I finally left the shower, a large chocolate brown towel wrapped around my hips, and stopped short. Arabella was on my bed, on full display in black lingerie that showcased her body well.

I have to admit, for a moment, she made a luscious picture, but then she spoke.

“Don’t you think it’s time you stopped fighting yourself, Jake? You know you can’t turn me away.” Her smirk was not sexy, and it was far from becoming.

I leaned against the doorway that led to the bedroom and stared at her.

“Come on, big boy. Show Momma how you do it.” She patted the bed, her nails gleaming in the light of the bedside lamp. She’d put a red silk scarf over the light, and it gave the room a romantic glow, but she wasn’t the one I wanted to have in my bed.

“First, I’m not your big boy. Second, you’re the furthest thing from my mother that could possibly be. Lastly, you can get the fuck out of my room.”

Instead of getting up she came around the bed and stood in front of me, her overpowering perfume cloying and stifling.

“Aw, Jakey, come on, baby.”