Page 77 of The Reluctant Billionaire
I think I can do better than that.
‘Don’t forget to take that thing home with you tonight,’ I say about the Nespresso machine.
‘Oh God no. I got this for here. I have them coming out of my ears. Besides, Sylvie’s become addicted to theVaniglia.Icouldn’t do that to her—I’ve got a few sleeves of them on their way for her.’
She’s sweet. So sweet. And hearing her tongue caress a single Italian word like that, in the beautiful, melodic way it’s supposed to be spoken, almost makes me hard.
‘Will you speak Italian to me in bed?’ I ask. ‘It’s really fucking hot.’
She laughs and says something that’s unintelligible and husky and suggestive and absolutely perfect.
‘What did you say?’
She grabs a Nespresso pod and puts the little glass cup into the machine. ‘I said I’m going to bend over for you later and ask you in Italian to fuck me really, really hard and really, really slowly,’ she says seductively.
‘Jesus Christ,’ I moan, dropping my forehead to her shoulder. This woman is sex on legs. I can’t think straight around her. I’m barely surviving being outside of her body. God knows what I’ll be like tomorrow at work when I don’t get to touch her all day.
I might have to pay a visit to her office. Return the favour, as it were. I grin to myself as I rub my forehead on the cotton of her t-shirt.
‘Well, well, well,’ comes Gaz’s highly amused voice from behind me. ‘What do we have here, then?’
‘None of your fucking business,’ I say gruffly, but I make no attempt to extricate myself from whatever pheromones Lotta’s skin is emitting.
‘Morning, Gaz,’ Lotta says, sounding amused and a tiny bit self-conscious, which I really love. I wrap my other arm around her middle and squeeze.
‘I bloody knew it!’ Gaz says. ‘Oh shit.’
‘What?’ I mutter against Lotta’s neck.
‘I owe Judy twenty quid,’ he says. ‘She called it. Judith?Judith!Get in here!’
Lotta giggles.
I snort. ‘Jesus,’ I say. I turn us around and lift my head in time to see Gaz’s smirk. Whatever he’s lost on his little bet, I suspect he’s gained in satisfaction at catching us like this.
Judy appears behind him. ‘About fucking time,’ she says, looking us up and down. I can tell she’s trying not to grin. ‘Knew you two were fucking.’
Gaz tuts. ‘Language, Judith, language. Look at these two. Adorable. I might just have to…’
‘Nope,’ I say as he comes towards us. But it’s too late. He envelopes us both in a massive hug, throwing his arms around me and squishing poor Lotta completely in the process. He reeks of deodorant, which I should probably be grateful for. I laugh, and she groans. Then Gaz moves his head so he can plant a big wet kiss on my forehead.
‘Fuck off, mate,’ I say.
‘I’m just so happy for you both,’ he says in a faux-emotional voice. ‘You’ll make such beautiful babies together.’
‘Jesus Christ,’ Judy says. ‘Man the fuck up, Gaz.’
‘I can’t breathe,’ Lotta gasps between us.
I push out of his arms. ‘That’s enough, okay? And keep your hands off her,’ I add as an afterthought.
‘What’d I miss?’ Sylvie asks, barrelling in, vape in hand. I roll my eyes.
‘These two are an item,’ Gaz volunteers, right as Judy says, ‘They’re fucking.’
‘Oh!’ Sylvie gasps out the words. Her kind brown eyes are wide. Her lips press together like she’s trying to stop herself from beaming, and she puts her hand to her heart as she takes a tentative step forward.
Fuck’s sake. This woman kills me.
