Page 77 of The Reluctant Billionaire

There’s nothing like it in the world.

I bury my face in her neck and inhale the intoxicating combination of my shower gel on her skin as we shuffle to her beloved Nespresso machine. ‘Tell me you’ll put on your painting t-shirt shortly,’ I beg, my lips dragging over her neck.

She laughs and puts her hand on her stomach, on top of mine. ‘But we’re not painting today, darling.’

‘We’re doingstuff. This’ll get filthy.You’llget filthy.’

‘Maybe you’ll have to come back to mine later and wash me off,’ she coos.

I tense in anticipation. ‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I didn’t bring a change of clothes.’

‘We have an overnight laundry service at Elgin.’ Her hand tightens over mine, and she pushes her arse back against me. ‘I can handle having you naked in my flat for a few hours.’

‘It’s a date,’ I tell her, tugging lightly at her neck with my teeth. That reminds me, I want to take her on a proper date. Something Lotta-worthy. So far, she’s had a drink in a shitty old men’s pub with me and the team.

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.I couldn’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…’

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