Five

Harley

Shocked. Satisfied. Achy. That’s how I felt after all the orgasms Mr. Steel, no Nick, had wrung from me. As a one-hundred-year-old virgin, I spent a lot of time pleasuring myself and I had never been able to achieve the levels of pleasure Nick had brought me to. Even now, inside the sparsely decorated penthouse apartment, I wasn’t nervous as my gaze passed over priceless authentic art, expensive furnishings or the million-dollar view. I should have been nervous, but I wasn’t because the only thing filling my mind was Nick.

And my body was on board with that line of thinking. My pussy felt permanently clenched, constantly flooding now in preparation for the next invasion. Each time I blinked, an image of his naked body, bronzed and tattooed, muscular and wet as he licked me, drove into me, came to mind. He was hard and tight everywhere. Strong and masculine. All of it had been delicious and wicked. And naughty. And the greedy girl that I was, I wanted more.

“What are you thinking about?” His voice sounded right behind me, moments before his arms wrapped around my waist and his lips brushed my shoulder.

“Isn’t that my line?”

His kissable lips twisted into a wry grin. “Do you want it to be?”

I swallowed, feeling entirely too damn turned on considering my hair was still wet and my legs still trembled from the last orgasm. “What’s in the box?” I spied it as we quickly dressed in his office before he dragged me beyond the bathroom to a discreet elevator.

He blushed as I turned to face him. “A gift. From Deborah.”

I grinned. Deborah was the only woman, hell, the only person who could handle him. Everyone checked with her to get things done because they were terrified of the perfectionist owner who had no problems making them repeat a week of work because it wasn’t up to his standards. Deborah had the air of an experienced grandmother but the dogged determination of a Mafioso.

“Open it.”

He did, laughing as he pulled out a coffee mug warmer. “It’s perfect,” he exclaimed, truly shocked by the gift. “People always try to get me things they think a guy like me should want. Expensive booze, cuff links, ties. Billionaire gifts, if you will.”

I understood what he hadn’t said. “But that guy has very discerning tastes and prefers to do his own shopping?”

His lips curled up. “Something like that. At least a personal shopper who knows what designers I prefer and what sizes I wear.” He grinned at the warmer again and set it down, shocking me to my core when he picked up his phone. My mind began to race with possibilities when he spoke.

“Hey Dan, find out where Deborah and her husband are staying in Hawaii. Upgrade the flight and the room, and add a full spa lineup for two. Anything else that might be nice, do it. Yep, thanks.” He tossed the phone on the table and grinned. “Now, where were we?”

I looked at him again, feeling affection swell in my chest and I froze. Suddenly terrified by the soft feelings on display for him to see, I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath. I couldn’t have affection for him, hell, I couldn’t afford to like him. This was one night of sex. A holiday fuck. A one-fucking-night-stand. It wouldn’t last and I knew it. No matter that all the sex and hormones were making me see things in a more flattering light, the fact was. . .billionaire businessmen didn’t fall for broke ass temps.

“What?”

He must have caught the affection so I shrugged. “You’re a nice guy.”

“You thought otherwise?”

I shrugged again. “I don’t know you very well but you always seem, I don’t know, like a jerk. But you’re not.” I almost called him misunderstood but that was the calling card for cheaters and abusers, wasn’t it? “You’re a good man, Nick Steele.”

He laughed and locked our fingers together as he pulled me toward the bank of windows. “Have you eaten?”

“Are you kidding? Do you see this dress I had to fit into?”

Nick nodded appreciatively as his gaze looked me up and down, eyes tracking like a heavy caress against my skin. “Good. Now that I plan on keeping you out of that dress, do you want to eat something?”

I nodded and he reached for a different phone this time, fixed to the wall in the kitchen, and whispered into the receiver before he hung up. “We have an hour before the food arrives,” he said, scanning the apartment in search of something to do other than fuck me again.

“Drink?” I asked because he needed something to do and I had to get my shit under control so I could enjoy the rest of my time with him.

“Yeah, sure.” He turned and made his way over to the sleek-looking wet bar, decorated in white leather and chrome. I took advantage of his distraction, reaching down deep for my newfound sexual confidence, and slowly lowered the zipper hidden on the side of the dress. It pooled at my feet and I stepped out of it, standing completely naked in the middle of his penthouse apartment.

“I have a few ideas about what we can do until the food arrives,” I purred. Yep, I fucking purred. “Starting with that drink.”

Nick turned, steel jaw clenched tight, nostrils flaring as he stalked my way. Stopping just before me, he shoved the heavy crystal tumbler in my hand and used my surprise to spear his fingers in my hair, pressing his lips to my neck and smoothing open-mouth kisses along the column of my neck. It felt divine and my head fell back, allowing him greater access to any strip of skin he wanted to taste. Touch. Explore. “You sure?”

I nodded and licked my lips before I knocked back the neat, amber liquid, groaning at the trail of heat burning my insides. “More than sure. Absolutely fucking certain.” He dove in again, lips clashing with mine as he kissed me hard and fast, making my lips tingle in a way that shot bolts of lust through every inch of my body. I gave in to the pleasure, the lust. My lips were swollen and I tried to climb his big body. “Damn, your kisses make me crazy.”

He chuckled and scooped me into his arms, groaning when I crossed my legs behind him and brought my wet, dripping pussy right against his denim covered cock. “This time Harley, I’m going to lay you out and see how many times I can make you come before the food arrives.”

Now that was the promise a girl hoped for. A shiver slid through me and he flashed a satisfied grin. “Do your worst, Mr. Steele.”

Blue eyes darkened at my breathy but obedient words as he laid me on the bed tenderly, like I was a cherished possession. His lips slid over my skin starting with the tops of my feet, my ankles. “My worst is going to make you feel damn good.”

“I have no doubt.” By the time his mouth reached behind my knee, I knew he was well on his way to keeping his promise.

Which only made him more appealing.

Dammit.