Page 65 of Billionaire Devil

“Don’t you think you’re taking some major freaking liberties by doing that?”

One of Colton’s eyebrows lifts and his grin is annoyingly entertained. “Liberties?”

“Yes. Liberties.”

“I wouldn’t consider it a liberty. I’d consider it a seed.”

“Seed?” Of course the word makes me blush because every now and then I can still feel trickles ofhis.

“Of possibility. Most people would be happy to get a job interview.”

“I’m not most people. And I am happy.” It’s times like these that his uncut smugness rubs me the wrong way. “But you can’t just take over my life like this.”

“I’m not taking over your life.”

“I don’t wantyouto get me a job. If I get a job,Iwant to be the one to getmyselfa job.”

“I didn’t know if she’d contact you or not. I just pointed her in your direction. I can’t sell your clothes if she doesn’t like them. Looks like she liked them.”

Why am I even mad about this? I’m over the moonabout the potential of the job offer, but something isn’t sitting right about the whole thing.

Maybe because everything’s so easy for him and he’s making me feel like I’m losing control.

Of my heart. Of my body. Of my future. Because all of them want to entwine themselves around Colton Fucking Maddox.

And they can’t because he’s a commitment-phobic playboy who sits in front rows at fashion shows and who I’ve been warned about over and over and now he’s doing it in slow motion.

He’s breaking my heart.

He’s not even remorseful about any of it in the slightest.

He mimics my frown. He looks so good doing it I hate him even more.

“Poor Bailey,” he purrs, pouting like I am, taking my glass from my hand and setting it on the giant coffee table.

He gently but forcefully lays me back on the couch and pins me down with his weight.

“Don’t,” I snap.

“Don’t what?” He’s unfastening his jeans and crawling down my body.

And damn him, I’m already wet because he’s so damn big and hard and he’s pushing my dress up. And I’m not wearing panties because I lost them somewhere along the way of cashing in my V-card in the Mile Freaking High Club.

“Don’t do things like that without talking to me about it first.”

“All right, Sunshine.”Oh god.He kisses my pussy, open-mouthed, licking into me. But he takes little breaks as he talks to me. “Chill, baby girl. I would have asked you but you were meeting with the shrink.” Anotherreallylewd lick. “I got the email and I remembered that you happened to mention that working at Ralph Lauren would be your dream job. And Sloane and her entourage had been talking about your clothes.” He sucks on my pussy with such messy, greedy gusto, I’m about to come already. “So I used my contact to get you an in. I didn’tgetyou the job.Youstill have to do that, which you no doubt will, with your talent and your sassy gorgeousness. So stop fucking overreacting.” The stubble of his face scratches against me as he eats me in lusty mouthfuls and the tidal wave is starting.

But then his mouth is gone and the heavy weight of him is on top of me again. He pulls my knees high and wide as he moves, and the thick, wet head of his cock pushes into me.

I moan because I’m so tender but I’malmostcoming. It’s sitting there, a sure thing, just waiting for the tiniest push.

It’s like he knows this. He holds himself still, denying me, staring down at me, his hair falling over his forehead, his eyes as dark as the night sky.

“‘Don’t’?” he whispers, withdrawing his slippery beautiful thickness just a fraction.

“Okay,do,” I whisper back, gripping him. Trying to pull him closer.

“Do what, Bailey?”

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