Page 54 of Her Billionaire Bargain (Kensington Square)

“But you didn’t come.” And I hated not being able to make that happen for her.

I would, I vowed. Even if it took all night and the morning besides.

“No. But it’s been a lifetime since I’ve been that close. Twice now. Three is the magic number.” She rubbed her heel against the back of my calf, tugging up my pants. Even that much skin on skin had me shuddering. “Get naked.”

TWELVE

Reneweddetermination locked his jaw as he lifted himself off me with obvious reluctance.

Not all that was obvious. The tent in his tuxedo pants might’ve freaked out a lesser woman.

Yeah, it freaked me out too.

“Do you have a training version of that?” I asked, not even realizing I’d spoken aloud until he stopped unbuttoning his shirt to chuckle.

At me.

With me, because somehow I laughed too. I was being ridiculous. I’d had a baby. I could handle him.

I hoped.

“Trust me, we’ll be just fine.” He kept unbuttoning, going so slowly that my hips moved restlessly. I was tempted to cover the stretch marks on my belly but when my fingers crept toward them, he reached down to grasp my wrist, kissing my hand almost offhandedly before he set it back on the bedding.

“You undress too slow,” I said to cover my embarrassment as he resumed his leisurely trek down the buttons.

“Don’t try to hide yourself from me or I won’t undress at all. My cock works just as well with my shirt on.”

“There’s a relief,” I muttered. “What am I doing here?”

“You’re about to get thoroughly fucked, in case you’ve forgotten.” He tossed aside his shirt, baring his stupidly hot torso for my perusal. I’d seen it before, but it bore closer review.

Before I could, he undid his belt, snapping it free from its loops with an authority that had me peeking up from the tangle of my hair.

I couldn’t be a spectator now.

I had to touch.

Taste.

Have.

I sat up, tossed back my hair, and used my legs to draw him in closer so I could run my nails up the lightly furred planes of his belly. “You must work out a lot.”

“Enough. I like to long-distance bike ride,” he said, intercepting my next question as I traced my fingertips over the helmet tattoo on his right side. It was inked in black with red on the helmet with a sketch of a bike behind it, simple yet intricate with its shading and shadows. On his left side, he had a crest of some sort, with a dragon with a forked tail on top. “Family crest,” he added before I could ask. “You don’t have any ink?” He sounded unsurprised.

With some glee, I lifted my right arm and nudged aside my breast to reveal the bright green four-leaf clover with a cursive A hidden there. “I actually do. The A is for Alice, Berry’s real first name. Alice was for my maternal grandmother. She died when I was young, but she was so wonderful, I had to name Berry for her.”

“Kind of racy spot for a tat, Ms. Wilde.” He touched the A with his thumb, somehow setting off a brand-new throb between my legs.

Then again, it could have been from his arched eyebrow and quirked lips.

The man was stupidly sexy.

“I knew it’d be my one and only so I went for it. I also wanted it hidden away, something just for me. Your tattoos aren’t on display either, Mr. Lawyer.”

“No.” He fisted a handful of my hair. “I can’t stop looking at you.”

I swallowed hard. “Same.” I eased forward and slipped my hands into the back of his loosened pants, discovering he’d gone commando. “Thanks for dressing for speed.”

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