Page 66 of No More Billionaires

“Where’s your room?” I whispered raggedly.

Larson gave a low groan, almost a growl, then grinned against my lips and spun around, pulling me by the hand toward the back hallway.

As we passed the kitchen, he stopped and fished the condom box out of the bag on the counter, turning back to me with a sheepish shrug. “I wanted to be prepared in case… I hope this wasn’t too presumptuous of me.”

I took the box from his hand and opened it, slowly pulling out one, two, three condoms, staring steadily at his face the whole time. With each withdrawal, Larson’s eyebrows rose another notch. I set the box back on the counter, but he picked it up again.

He gave me a slow, sensual grin and reached into the box for one more condom. Now it was time for my eyebrows to hit the ceiling.

Larson reached for my hand and laced his fingers through mine. “Come with me.”

I padded down the hallway with him, not even glancing out at the city view this time, not caring to see anything other than what awaited me inside his bedroom.

As we reached the door, he pushed it open and stepped back to allow me to enter first.

Another floor-to-ceiling window made up one wall, providing a glittering backdrop for the light-colored carpet and bedding and dark furniture. A pair of ultra-modern chairs faced out to the skyline.

A huge bed anchored the opposite wall, covered in miles of luxurious-looking white fabric. The room was spare and clean and inviting.

Behind me Larson hit a button on the wall, lowering the overhead lighting to a dim glow. The lights of the city outside sparkled like stars on a cloudless night.

I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Pretty.”

My voice held a tremor that echoed the shaking of my hands and the trembling of my stomach.

Now that there was no longer a question about what was going to happen, my bravado had evaporated like water dripped on a summer sidewalk. I hadn’t been with anyone since Mark, and his throwing me over for another girl hadn’t exactly left me with stellar sexual self-esteem.

But when I turned around to face Larson, his expression was as nervous as mine must have been. Somehow, it made me feel better.

He approached me and wrapped his arms around my waist, sliding one hand to the bottom of my spine and drawing me against the front of his body.

His head dipped, and he kissed me slow and soft and hot.

An unmistakable hardness pressed against my belly. Contrary to that evidence, Larson’s words betrayed no sense of hurry.

“We don’t have to do this, you know—if you’ve changed your mind. We can go slow. Just tell me,” he murmured against my ear.

But I couldn’t speak. I could only stare up at his face, so incredibly beautiful illuminated by the city lights pouring through the window.

“Thereissomething I want to tell you.”

“What?” he said softly.

I loved the way he looked at me, as if nothing and no one else in the world mattered.

“This.” I rose on my tiptoes, slid a hand behind his neck and urged his mouth down to mine, communicating with my lips an unmistakable message. I wanted him.

Right here and now.

Larson responded instantly, gripping me tightly and pulling me close as he kissed me deep, groaning like a man who’d been on a diet for a month and had finally been allowed a rich dessert.

I pressed myself against him, running my hands up his chest to caress his neck and play in his hair.

God, he felt good. And tasted good. And smelled amazing.

How had I managed to resist this man for so long? I didn’t have much restraint left—that was for sure.

As we continued kissing, he moved us closer and closer to the bed. When the backs of my knees hit the mattress edge, I sat down.

---