Page 51 of A Billion Dollar Romance
Edie
The first night’sdinner was a bustle of introductions over chafing dishes and chatter as people settled into seats, greeting old colleagues and friendly rivals. I’d heard at least a dozen names, and remembered none of them besides Samantha’s, which didn’t really count since I’d already met her.
“I’m pleased to see you here,” she said, as if it were a surprise that I had come.
“James asked me,” I said, and a slight smile crooked her lips.
“So he did,” she said, enigmatically. “Well, between you and me, it will be a relief to have another woman in the industry here. We need all we can get. Which of the meetings are you attending?”
I couldn’t help the smile that spread over my own face as she pulled out her schedule–or the blush that spread over my cheeks as I noticed James watching us, a tiny smile gracing his own masculine features.
* * *
I had checked into my separate room–the room Bridget had booked for me, formy privacy,how sweet of her–when we arrived, but as the informal dinner drew to a close and we all trailed away to our rooms, I hadnointention of going to my own.
Not when James was in this one, switching on a gas fireplace and filling theverylarge bathtub directly in front of it with hot water.
He pulled off his shirt and turned to me, expectantly.
“Well?” he asked, holding his hands out wide.
My head tilted to one side.
“Do I look like one of the men on the covers of your bathtub books?”
I laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous, James.”
“I know I have the abs,” he said, flexing, and I couldn’t help the way my eyes were drawn to them like a bullseye. I crossed my arms over my chest at his satisfied smirk. “Is my hair not flowing enough?”
“It’s not,” I agreed. “And you aren’t…glisteningenough,” I said with one brow arched.
He bent down to the bathtub, splashing droplets of water on his bare chest. “Better?”
I nodded, curtly. “For your information,” I said, “that style of cover hasn’t been in fashion for a while now. You should know that. What kind of a CEO are you?”
“A poor one,” he said with a grimace. “Who would rather be writing.”
“That latter part might be true, but I sincerely doubt the first half. I’ve seen your apartment, remember?”
His eyes flicked to the ring on my finger, and sent heat down my spine. “Come here, Edie,” he said, and I stepped toward him. He took my hand–the one with the ring, and held it between us. “Thank you for coming with me to this.”
“Of course,” I said. My words came out breathy and weak as he stared at me over the glittering diamond.
“I mean it. I’ve never had someone to take to this conference.” He lifted my hand, kissing my palm before placing it flat against the center of his chest. I could feel the thump-thump of his heartbeat, matching mine. “And I’m happy that it’s you I get to have by my side. To show off,” he smirked. “I want everyone to see this ring and know that you… that the gorgeous, smart, clever, talented Miss Taylor… you aremine.”
My stomach rolled over, a flush of heat running through my veins and pooling between my legs.
“And you?” I asked, bringing my other hand up to his chest, sliding the pair of them down along the hard ridges of his abs to his belt buckle. Undoing it was the work of a second, and then my hands were on his cock, hard already against the constricting fabric of his boxer briefs.
The rush of water into the bathtub muffled his quiet voice, but his simple declaration rang through me, regardless.
“I’m yours.”
He kissed me, deep and hard, then tugged my top over my head before planting his lips on my skin, his hands moving to the slim black pants I wore, unfastening them and shoving them down around my ankles, where I stepped out of them. My bra loosened, then hit the floor as well, alongside his pants, and then he picked me up, my legs wrapping around his waist instinctually, his erection caught between us. I rolled my hips to work against his shaft, and his eyes darkened. He took a few steps, then–with surprising grace–stepped into the bathtub, lowering us both into the warm water with me on his lap.
“I’ve been thinking about this,” he said, his hands slipping through the water to cup my ass, kneading and grasping. I bit my lip.
“My ass?” I teased.
