New York Billionaires Series

“I know,” he says. “You hate me for this, but you love me for it too.”

“Please.”

He kisses me, tongue moving against mine. His thumb presses down on my swollen clit and I break apart. Pleasure sweeps my body and I squeeze my knees around his hips. He holds me through it, a finger still sliding in and out of me. “That’s it,” he murmurs. “That’s it.”

I’m breathing hard when the high ends, hands tight around his neck. “Oh my God.”

His fingers circle one last time before he slides my panties back into place. The fabric feels rough against my sensitive skin. “It’s a good thing,” he says, “that I didn’t know how good you feel. I’d never have gotten anything done with you as my assistant.”

My voice is breathless. “Yes. You’d have done me.”

He chuckles and I reach for him, finding his lips again. He’s hard against me. He had meant what he said. He needs to be inside me.

But I had meant what I said earlier too.

I want to tease him for what he’d done to me for a year.

So I slide off the console table on shaky legs and find my footing among the shattered glass. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

“That was… enlightening.”

His smirk turns into a full-blown smile, and it takes my breath away. “I’d use a lot of adjectives about what just happened, but enlightening isn’t one of them.”

“Yes. Well, I don’t have a thesaurus on me.”

“There’s one in my office. You could accompany me there.”

“In your office?” I raise an eyebrow, the aftereffects of my orgasm making me bold. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” he says. “As would you. My desk is big enough.”

“But not tonight.” I turn, though it hurts, and start heading toward the staircase. To where both of our bedrooms are, separated by a hallway and two doors without locks.

No distance at all.

“Cecilia,” he calls.

“I have a dinner tomorrow with business associates.”

I put out a hand to lean against the wall. His eyes clock it, just as they do the flush in my cheeks. His lips curl into a half-smile.

“Oh,” I say. “How exciting.”

“Will you come with me?”

I swallow. “As your wife?”

“I will.”

“Thirteen paintings,” Nadine says. “Do you realize how much money that is?”

“Yes,” I say. “Well, almost. I saw what you sold them for.”

“It’s not beer-money. It’s not even rent-money. It’s rent-for-a-year-money!”

“Even with the commission the gallery is taking?”

“They’re just taking ten percent! Jake told me they usually request thirty, but because it was such a last-minute booking, they’re charging ten. ”

“Jake said that,” I say.

“Yes. He said he was happy to meet you, by the way. That it was clear you and I are great friends.” Her voice turns bashful. “I have a confession to make.”

“Out with it,” I say. With my headphones in, I can talk to Nadine and survey my closet. Despite having the guest bedroom, it’s big enough to house a small futon in the center.

“I think Jake might be interested in me.”

I laugh. “Oh, do you?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be! I guessed that the second I met him.”

“You did not.”

“I did,” I say. “The five minutes we spoke were all about how fantastic you are, and I didn’t mind, because I love singing your praises. We were like two fangirls.”

“Oh, stop it.”

“It’s true. So. Are you interested in him?”Upstodatee from Novel(D)ra/m/a.O(r)g

“No. He’s not my type.”

I smile, grateful she’s not here to see it, and reach out to grab a handful of dresses. “You know I love you, but you often see things in black-and-white.”

“No I don’t. I’m an artist. I see endless nuances of color.”

“Sure you do. But not when it comes to men.”

“He’s perfect for you. He’s too similar to me to work.”

I think of Victor, and his precise way of speaking, the methodical movement of his hands. The ambition and the business sense and the discipline. “I don’t know about that,” I say. “I think attraction is more about finding someone who is complementary.”

Nadine is quiet a beat, but when she speaks, her voice is heated. “Okay. Spill.”

I laugh. “How did you know?”