Page 9 of The Billionaire Alpha's Surprise Baby

Garrett is dangerous. It’s been years since I was even vaguely interested in a guy, but Garrett is charming, sexy, and kind. I don’t know what it is about him that makes me want to give myself over completely, but he’s just the sort of man who could make me lose focus.

I am so close to saving up enough money and getting the hell out of Colorado, but in this moment, I can’t bring myself to care. I’ve worked so hard to have the life I want. One night of fun can’t hurt . . .

Not that it matters at this point. My brain has fully checked out. I’m kissing him back, teetering on my heels, and Garrett is the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth.

I sigh as his warm fingers thread through my hair, not caring that we’re in public as I smash my breasts against his chest and grind my hips into his erection.

A low growl rumbles through him at the sudden contact, and I feel his other arm lock possessively around my waist. In one smooth motion, Garrett lifts me off my feet, and I wrap my arms around his neck.

Nearby, somebody wolf whistles. I swear I’m going to kill Jules in the morning.

Everything gets a little fuzzy as Garrett spirits me out of the club. I think he must have called us a car, because suddenly I’m in the back seat, straddling his lap.

Garrett smells like citrus and sandalwood — fresh, clean, and masculine. My dress has ridden up along my thighs, and I can feel his hardness through the thin lace of my panties.

I’m drunk on giddy anticipation. I’ve never done this before — any of it. I’ve certainly never gone home with a total stranger. I know it’s reckless and a little slutty, but with Garrett, it just feels right.

His mouth is all over me as he grips my thighs, and my heart starts to pound wildly against my ribs.

I’ve never so much as made out in a car, and I feel slightly out of control. It should be scary, but it isn’t. With him, I feel safe.

My fingers are clumsy as I undo the buttons of his shirt, revealing his tanned muscular chest inch by glorious inch. This is so unlike me, but I can’t help it. I have this unbearable ache between my thighs that’s begging for release.

I don’t care where we’re going. I don’t care who’s driving. I just need Garrett inside me.

As if he senses the intensity of my need, Garrett slips a hand under the hem of my dress and runs his fingers along my seam.

A choked moan escapes me at the light contact, and I feel my face heat up. My panties are completely soaked, and I’m sure he can tell.

“So wet,” he rumbles, gripping the side of my neck with his free hand so he can plant a hot trail of kisses all the way down my throat.

I’m a little embarrassed by the force of my own desire, but the sense of awe in his voice shatters my inhibitions. I spread my legs wider to give him better access, and he cups my mound through my panties with a possessive growl.

I gasp and grind against him, chasing that delicious friction, but the car comes to an abrupt stop. I freeze with his palm still flat against my pussy, his index and middle fingers creeping dangerously close to my back passage.

Garrett smoothly withdraws his hand, tugs my dress down over my thighs, and hauls me out of the car. The chilly night air dances over my skin, but Garrett’s jacket materializes around my shoulders, and I find myself staring up at a velvety blanket of stars.

“This is incredible,” I whisper, my gaze going to the jagged outline of the snow-covered peak beyond.

“It is,” Garrett murmurs, though I can tell from his positioning that he’s not looking at the sky.

He takes my hand and leads me toward the house, which is absolutely gigantic. It’s so big that I sort of wonder if he’s brought me back to a weird old hotel, but the windows on the first floor are dark.

He leads me silently through the pitch-black entryway, and I can tell from the confidence of his steps that he knows every inch of this place.

We reach the end of the hallway, and Garrett presses me against a wall — capturing my mouth with his and kissing me hungrily.

Now that we’re alone, I let out a wanton moan and drag my fingers through his silky curls. Garrett responds by thrusting his tongue into my mouth, and I feel my knees go wobbly.

I need to feel him against me.

Gripping his shirt, I rip it off in one jerky motion and run my hands along the hard planes of his chest. Garrett grins against my mouth.

His skin is hot — almost feverish — or maybe my hands are just cold. I explore every inch of him I can reach, my pussy clenching as my fingers race along the hard lines of his abs.

I hesitate when I get to his belt buckle. It seems indecent to rip his pants off in the hallway, but Garrett apparently doesn’t share my hesitation.

Nudging my legs apart, he slips a hand under the hem of my dress. He takes a moment to caress my aching mound through the damp lacy fabric. Then he hooks a finger in the gusset of my panties and tugs them to the side.

---