Page 58 of The Grumpy Billionaire

I go back to my phone. “Don’t know and don’t care.”

“You really don’t know?”

“Sorry, I have actual important things to think about.”

“Oh, I think you’d be interested. It’s rather astonishing.”

Of course she thinks I’m going to be curious about it. Curiosity is something we have in common. But unlike her, I have self-control.

She looks down at her phone. She’s practically sparkling with pleasure. Even those freckles look more vibrant.

I’m supposed to be searching for the answers to some of the most complex questions ever posed, and she just won’t stop with the monkey wrenches.

In the interests of clearing my mind, I do a quick, discreet Google on it.

It is said that eating large amounts of pineapple not only makes your genitalia and related fluids taste better, but also sweeter.

My face heats.

Stella smiles. “Really too bad that you’re allergic. Pineapple is delicious. Personally? I eat it all the time.”

I grit my teeth, fighting back a ferocious rush of desire.

“All. The. Time.”

I ball my fists. Images of tasting her crowd my mind.

Ding.

She strolls into the elevator and turns to me, gaze spearing mine.

Suddenly my feet are moving. I follow her and spin around, blocking the entrance with my arm, fingers clamped violently on the side of the opening. “Take the next one.”

The people behind us scatter like startled birds. I stab theclose doorsbutton. I turn to her. “You will stop this.”

She tries to look innocent, tilting her head and furrowing her brow. “Stop what? Stop eating pineapple?”

A rumble comes out of me unbidden as the doors close.

“Think of the food pyramid, Hugo. The food pyramid!” She gazes at me straight on, just a hint of a smile on her lips. The air is thick between us. I think she’s going to come to me, but instead she backs up.

My pulse races.

“Pineapple’s a nutritional powerhouse.” She hits the wall.

Some chase instinct unleashes in me, and I slam my hand onto the elevator brake button. I go to her with a need that’s dark and brutal. I grip her shoulders, pull her to me, and kiss her.

Files fall to the floor as she wraps her arms around my neck, kissing me back.

“Wait! Are there cameras?”

“Not in this one. Wulfric reasons.” I push her against the wall and knee her legs apart. I kiss her like a lost man. A starving man. I press into her so that she can feel how hard she makes me.

“Yes, Hugo,” she whispers, moving against me. “Yes.” Her hands roam over my chest and then down over my ass. She cups my ass and arches into me.

I bend my knees to give her more of my length, trapped as it is inside layers of fabric. “Take it,” I say, ferociously pulling up her skirt to give her better access. I reach down, needing to touch her, but of course there are panties.

Irrationally maddened by all of these layers of clothes between Stella and me, I palm them down, but they won’t go. I drop to my knees and pull, but they get all twisted.

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