Home > The Wrong Billionaire's Bed (Billionaire Boys Club #3)(36)

The Wrong Billionaire's Bed (Billionaire Boys Club #3)(36)
Author: Jessica Clare

And there went her resolve. Audrey weakened, leaning against him, a tiny whimper escaping her throat as heat flooded her body. God, he knew just how to touch her to make all of her bones turn to mush. She turned to look at him, noticed he was wearing the same thing he always did—a cheesy workout T-shirt and a pair of sleep pants. Didn’t Cade have anything decent in this house he could borrow?

“Let’s get out of here,” he whispered against her hair, lips brushing her ear, “and find somewhere private, shall we?”

She nodded, all thoughts of his wardrobe disappearing from her mind, and his hand went to the small of her back as he lead her down the dock. She was going to do this. She was really going to do this. Damn the consequences. She needed this night with Reese to get him out of her system. He was like a burr under her skin, always there, an itch she couldn’t scratch. Driving her mad and distracting her. This would take care of it.

She hoped.

His hand on her back was like a brand against her skin, her body acutely aware of that small, polite touch. He led her through the thickening trees and into the woods, far from the cabin. They left the lake behind and headed even deeper, until she couldn’t see the night skies overhead because the trees had grown so thick, and it grew steadily darker.

“Do you know where you’re going?” she had to ask at one point.

“I do,” he agreed. “The perfect little spot. It’s not much further.”

“Is it safe to be out here? What about bears and wildcats and things?” Audrey hadn’t been thinking of such things when she’d suggested the woods, but she was thinking about them now that it was so incredibly dark and the trees so thick.

She heard his chuckle. “We’ll be making too much noise. Don’t worry about it. You don’t want Cade to find us again, do you?”

“God, no,” she breathed, annoyed at his small snort of derision. What was that supposed to mean? But she didn’t have the chance to ask.

“Here we are,” Reese said, gesturing at the area in front of him.

She had to admit, to her night-blind eyes, it didn’t look like much. There was a pair of trees growing close together, forming a bit of a cradle between the roots in the ground, but that was about it. “Should I be impressed? What am I looking for?”

“These trees are perfect for us, my scowly little firecracker. They’ll keep us shielded from the wind and the branches are low enough to climb if anything decides to check us out.”

She froze. “I thought you said we were safe?”

“I know, but my ass is spectacular when it’s naked, and you never know.” She caught a glimpse of his white smile flashing in the darkness. “Plus, I hid a few things out here earlier.”

“Did you?” She hadn’t realized he’d left the house. “Things like what?”

He took the blanket out of her hands and began to unfold it. “You’ll see.”

“Things like what?” she repeated. “I’m can’t say I’m into whips and things, if that’s what you have in mind. I’m not that kind of girl.” Plus, the thought of Reese having whips at hand at all times—and probably to use on Camilla—bothered the hell out of her. The bolt of jealousy that slammed through her was humiliating.

“Calm down, Audrey,” Reese said in a slightly annoyed voice, spreading the blanket between the cradle of the tree roots. “Nothing weird, Miss Prim. Condoms. Bottles of water. Things like that. Jesus.”

“Oh.” Well, now she felt stupid. “Don’t call me Miss Prim.”

“Miss Prim,” he teased in that irritating voice, turning to face her. His arms crossed over his chest, as if daring her to do something about it. “You are Miss Prim. Your hair’s up again, even. Didn’t I ask you to wear it down?”

So she’d pulled it into a ponytail for tonight. Like that was supposed to be weird? It didn’t give him leave to insult her. She gave his chest a slight shove out of irritation. “Stop it, Reese. You’re being a dick.”

“And you’re being Little Miss Goody Two Shoes all over again. I have to say, I’m not a fan. What happened to that wild redhead who molested me by the woodpile earlier this morning?”

Her mouth tightened. “I’m not your Barbie doll. I’m not going to put my hair a certain way just because it makes your dick hard.”

“Gee, and I thought you wanted my dick hard. You certainly seemed to this morning. Remember that? You had your mouth open, just waiting for me to shove it in—”

Fury blossomed through her and she grabbed the front of his shirt, wanting to shake him for being such a douchebag. Why was he being like this? It was like he was deliberately trying to piss her off. And he just kept talking, which made her angrier, so she did the only thing she could think of to shut him up.

She planted her mouth on his in a furious kiss.

That worked. The stream of irritating conversation coming from him immediately dried up as her lips mashed on his in that furious lip lock. Suddenly his hands were on her shoulders and he was clenching her against him, the kiss grew hotter and wilder. Their lips ground together without any regard for coordination, all teeth and lips and furious, frantic kissing. It was punishment and wildness all rolled into one, and her body practically vibrated with emotion as his tongue swept against her own.

She captured his tongue with her lips and sucked on the tip, then flicked her own tongue against it, rewarded with his groan of pleasure. All that anger had turned, somehow, into a competitive sort of spirit, and she suddenly wanted to drive him wild. To make him as mindless and crazy as he made her. So Audrey became more aggressive with the kiss, continuing to suck at his tongue, then let him slide away from her. Then she tugged his lower lip into her mouth and lightly bit down on it as she raked her fingernails down the front of his shirt in an aggressive mood.

Reese groaned again, louder, and she felt his fingers clench on her shoulders. He wasn’t moving, either; he was letting her take the lead.

Well, she’d show him just how much she could do with the lead, she decided. Her hands went to his shirt and she jerked at it, trying to tear it off him without breaking the locked, tongue-tangling kiss they were sharing. She took the advantage on the kiss, her tongue moving against his in an aggressive pace, letting out all the emotion she’d built up for the day. She’d pictured their coming together a dozen times earlier that day; each one had involved slow, sweet, romantic sex. A leisurely exploring of bodies. The reality was nothing like that—she needed this, and she needed it rough and hard and right away, and she was going to demonstrate to him exactly what she needed.

   
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