Page 31 of Laying Low With the Billionaire

Fortunately, she takes the words right out of my mouth.

“It was on purpose earlier, you know. Kissing you. And I liked it. Sorry.”

I swallow hard. She’s still flushed, her cheeks a pretty pink, her hair framing her face perfectly, her gaze fixed on her fork so she doesn’t have to see me react. Which means she doesn’t see my enormous smile. “Really?”

“Yeah. It was an accident, but I wanted to do it.” She sighs shakily like it’s a weight off her chest or a regret. Like she really thinks I’m not falling for her so hard I think I might explode.

“Good,” I say, putting my fork down.

She’s about to take another mouthful, but she hesitates, trying to make sure she heard me properly. She blinks at me, her lips wobbling like she’s trying not to smile. “Good?”

“Yeah, good. Because I’ve been thinking about kissing you for days. And I’m kind of thinking, maybe we should do it again.”

Slowly, she lowers her fork again and stares levelly at me. “You’d better not be fucking with me, Joel Lockhart, because it’s not funny to say that and—”

Before she can launch into a whole huge rant at me, I stand up and walk over to her, cupping her cheek in my hand and leaning down to meet her in another gentle kiss. She freezes in surprise and I’m ready to walk away and stop, but then she grabs the back of my head and kisses me hard, our lips crashing together like that’s what they were always meant to do.

Nothing else in the whole world could feel as good as this. Her hands on my skull are burning hot, branding me with desire for her. Her skin under my hands and her hot kisses make me feel higher than any drug.

Breathing hard, she pulls away to fix me in a stare again. “You really mean it? You wanted me to kiss you?”

“Anna. I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone more in my life.” She opens her mouth as if to protest and I cut her off before she can start. “You’re beautiful. You make me feel something I’ve never felt before.”

“What, sober?” she teases, standing up too so we’re just inches apart, her chest rising and falling in waves like she can’t catch her breath, her hair fully escaped from the band that was trying to contain it. I want to sweep her up in my arms and never let go.

“More sober than I’ve ever been.”

She stands up on her tiptoes to try and reach my lips again, but I lean back to ask her the one thing that could make this a dealbreaker for me. I don’t want to and I don’t believe it really, but I have to hear her say it or it’ll bother me for the rest of my life. “You don’t just want me for my vast wealth and incredible looks, do you?”

“Joel,” she says, planting herself back down and looking me squarely in the eye, making me feel stupid in the way only she can. “Do you really think I’d want to make out with someone as annoying as you if I didn’t mean it?”

“Point taken,” I say, then wrap my arms around her shoulders and pull her in close to me at last.

She leans up to kiss me again, her hands grabbing the back of my head like I’m about to fly away and kissing me with all the pent-up emotions we must have both been feeling all this time. I could laugh about it if I wasn’t so set on kissing her until she kisses all the breath out of me. She tastes like spices and beer and I’m sure I taste the same, but none of that matters at all.

All that matters is her mouth on mine, her fingers tracing their way down my back and making me shiver. My own hands go to her hips, holding her tight like a promise.

For a second, she pulls away to whisper in my ear, “You’re a little excited, huh?” To prove her point, she grinds her hips against me, bringing undeniable attention to my growing erection.

As she leaves a trail of kisses down my jawline, I chuckle in embarrassment. She’s right, of course. She’s turning me on like crazy. “I can’t help it when you’re so hot,” I growl, pushing her hair out of the way to kiss at her neck where her skin is so soft and smells like soap.

She gasps hard, throwing her head back to let my tongue trace the length of her throat. As I bury my face in the nape of her neck, she grinds against me again, her hand sliding down my front towards the tie of my sweatpants. “Maybe we should do something about that.”

Another wave of lust courses through me at the idea of it. “Maybe we should,” I echo, letting my hand slide round to her ass to squeeze gently.

She giggles at the touch, then grabs my shirt and pushes me backwards towards the bedroom.

We spin like dancers on the way, pushing and pulling each other across the floor, snatching kisses and pulling at fabric, neither willing to let go but both wanting the other so completely naked. By the time we crash through the door, my pants are halfway down my ass and her shirt is unbuttoned, revealing a simple black bra beneath. But simple doesn’t mean unsexy and being able to feel her hard nipples underneath is definitely sexy.

She moans as we stumble through the room, shedding shirts and pants and socks all while trying to maintain as much lip-on-lip contact as possible. Which is harder than it looks, and a bunch of times we have to break apart, breathless and giggling to rip our clothes off.

By the time we fall onto the bed, all that’s left is our underwear.

I roll us over so she’s underneath me and start kissing her again, but she holds her hand up. “Wait, do you have any condoms?”

“Shit,” I say. Annoyingly, that’s not something I thought of bringing when I fled from the media. I sit back up and crawl over to Ben’s nightstand. “Maybe your brother has some.”

“Pleasedon’t make me think about my brother right now,” she groans.

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