Babysitting the Billionaire (11 page)

She leaned in and traced the lines, already disappearing
with her tongue, taking little diversions when she came across a nipple. He
sucked in a breath, and she glanced up at his face. She wiggled her hips, her
panties warm and right over his bulging need. He groaned.

“Slow enough for you, Mr. Kurck?”

“You’re killing me.”

“Such a sweet talker.” She lifted her arms, settling
deep into his seat, and unhooked the halter top part of her dress. He smiled
and reached for the fabric. But he didn’t stop there, but reached around to the
fastening at the back of her skirt. Freeing it, he swept the skirt fabric up
and off her, over her head. He tossed it onto his chair, behind them.

“I like dresses that don’t need bras.” Bringing his hand
back, he splayed it on her back and pushed her forward. Tilting his head up, he
flicked her nipple as she had his. She lifted up involuntarily, and he pushed
her forward until he had a whole mouthful of her breast. For once she didn’t
feel too small, but perfect. Just right.

She slid her hands between them, undoing the button and
zipper of his khakis. He took her other breast in his hand, and she smiled. A boxers
man, just as she’d suspected.

But he wasn’t being as cooperative as he was this
morning. He kept his hips pinned to the floor, even as she’d lifted up to give
him room. She leaned forward and took his mouth, matching his tongue’s circling
of her tightly ruched nipple. His breathing was heavy, and his eyes closed. She
scooted her hips up, and quickly reached behind her down his hips, inside the
roomy boxers, and slid him free.

His eyes popped open in surprise. “You distracted me.”

“Fair’s fair,” she said, quickly dispensing with her own
bikini briefs. She felt deliciously wet, and wanton, and so, so ready.

“Use your words, Miss May.”

“I want you in me, now, deep, and deep, and deep.”

He pulled her head toward his and kissed her long, and
deep. But it wasn’t the deep she wanted. “In the jeans. Back pocket.”

She pivoted and rummaged and found a strip of three
condoms. “Only three?”

“For now. Are you sure you’re ready?”

How could he even ask? She was drenching his crotch with
her readiness even now. She ripped a packet open and popped the condom in his
mouth. His expression was priceless. “Softens it up,” she said.

She dipped down and used her tongue to scoop the now
soggy condom back. Now it was easy to unroll over him, even as big as he was, and
most eager, bounding forward and back like it was seeking her out. Which, thank
her lucky stars, it was.

She lifted up to position herself over him, and he propped
a hand behind her. “Slow. I want to feel every millimeter.”

She did, too, though he had to remind her twice by
squeezing her butt to do so. As he entered, the muscles of her vagina clenched,
and loosened, and clenched again, waves of marvelous tension and relaxation
bathing her senses, winding her up even tighter. Then the fullness of him,
slow, slow, into her. She jumped when he slid past her G-spot, and he smiled.
“So noted,” he said, his voice whispering past his heavy breathing. Now both
his hands were on her hips, not so much guiding as holding on for dear life.

She loved this sense of power. Her old boyfriend hated
having her on top, so they rarely did it.

Beau was half in her now, and she was in balance. She
gripped his shoulders, kneading them. Her thumbs moved down, and flicked his
taut nipples.

He bucked so hard he would have impaled her, but his
hands kept their hips at the same distance. May felt a twinge of
disappointment.
Next time, mayb
e.

Slowly, slowly, she settled on him. He lifted a hand to
her breast, kneading so softly. Slowly, slowly, she couldn’t stand much more.
His hand slid up her chest, up her neck, his fingers reaching her lips. She
sucked them in, hard. It was harder to squirm in this position, but she was
managing it.

With a pop she seated him all the way inside her. It
felt like there was no space left, he filled her so completely.

“Beautiful,” he breathed out, and sucked another deep
breath in. “Don’t move. I want to savor this.”

As if.
She couldn’t help herself; her hips just made that figure-eight on
their own. She kissed his lips an apology, and he smiled.

“Next time.”

She felt him reach around her hip and between them,
fingers down. Her blood pulsed in anticipation, as if sending sonar waves to
help guide him in. He found her, and she nearly exploded right then.

But she breathed the passion out, and let it build
higher. Kissing his neck, his beautiful shoulder, she saw his smallpox vaccine
mark, and licked that as well. His hips were matching hers. Not matching, but
complementing. Dancing.

She closed her eyes, and the sensations doubled. She had
too much feeling for one body. Building, building, her breathing louder,
wilder. And was he feeling even bigger?

He held his thumb still on that spot as she came, his
other hand holding hard so she couldn’t buck away. She rode wave after wave, so
long she actually could open her eyes and see the colors flow by.

As she felt the peak fade, she squeezed, riding him
tight down, then up, then all the way down. He came as loud as he had this
morning.

Good thing they were the only ones on this floor of the
hotel.

She held still as he spiraled down, not sure if he was
sensitive after orgasm or not. Then she collapsed on top of him, not bothering
to push him out yet.

He stroked her back slowly, gently, like warm rain on a
summer’s day.

She sighed. “Slow is nice, you’re right. But next time,
we’re going faster.”

He groaned a chuckle. “My trainer warned me about girls
like you.”

“Did you listen?”

“Lucky for you, I did.”

****

May woke to the familiar smell of hotel sheets, but a
new angle on the sun. His bed, with the view of the Capitol, round and square
and white set beside the green of the Mall. Morning, and already afternoon in
Beau’s world.

She gloried in the soft sheets against her bare skin. He
liked to sleep apart, but with a hot palm gripping her somewhere. She lifted
the sheet to see if he’d marked her there, on her hip, her waist, her shoulder.
No visible trace, but she’d swear she could still feel the force, the weight,
the warmth of him.

She smiled, and stretched, and rolled off the bed and
onto her feet. She’d left her clothes in the living room, but he wasn’t the
sort to leave his own clothes lying around, apparently. She found a hotel
bathrobe in the washroom, and headed out.

He was talking into the air again, but he stopped cold
when he saw her. She must look like a balloon toy, hidden in folds of soft
terry cloth.

“You look beautiful,” he said, “like a plush present
ready to be unwrapped.” He gazed at her a moment in frank appreciation, and
then he must have heard something from his ear bud. He touched his ear and
frowned, his gaze shifting to the screens on the table. He waved her over to
the table. He wrapped his arm around her waist, grabbing a big handful of cloth
and a little bit of her. May bumped her hip into his. She loved this closeness.

He reached for a screen, and swiped a window onto the
screen closest to her. He magnified the view, some sort of news site. At the
top of the page was the photo of him and the little blonde fan from yesterday.

“Great photographer,” she said, and frowned. That girl
shouldn’t be in the picture. She had no claim to him.

“But?”

“But I don’t like it. Aren’t we supposed to be keeping
you under wraps?”

He touched his earpiece and told Meri he was hanging up.
“That’s why you don’t like it?” He jiggled her at the hip, shaking a small
smile out of her.

“And you’re not hers. You’re mine. For the moment,” she said
hastily.

He wrapped his arms around her and tugged her into his
lap.

“For the night, for the days.” He kissed her temple.
“Maybe forever, who can say?”

Could he be serious? She wanted him to be, too much. Was
it too soon? She pulled her head a little back, trying to read his soul through
his crystal-blue eyes.

They crinkled at the corners, somewhere between a smile
and a wince. “Oh, I know I’m on the rebound, and you’re a walking wound and
all, but I’ve never felt this way before, and you seem just a little smitten,
too. It seems a shame to discount it just because the timing’s wrong.”

She raised her brow. He was forgetting something.

“Okay, and the distance thing, too. We could meet in
Iceland
, or
Ireland
.” His mouth wobbled. Could
he doubt her attraction to him?

She kissed his temple. “Or during meetings about the
expedition.”

“You’ll be part of those meetings?”

“I wish. No, but I’ll be in the office. We can meet
after.”

He stroked her hair, following the line from crown to
under her ear. “Bob. The name of the cut, right? Do you really wish it?”

The hair? No, the trip. “Of course. To see
Antarctica
? Wow. And I’m sure penguins in the wild don’t
walk, or probably talk, anything like they do in zoos.”

He swerved his head farther from her, and she realized
she was swinging her hands wide in her excitement. But she couldn’t stop.

“I’d hoped to sell some paintings, see if I could earn
some money to go at least to the base camp.”

“Edmondsson should pay for that.”

“He disagrees.”

“Idiot.”

“An old man set in his ways. But I thought if I showed
him I could get to base camp, you know, he might reconsider. People get sick,
and spaces open up, and if you’re there, well.” She shrugged. It had made sense
in theory. And that’s where it stayed.

“You really want to go.”

Her shoulders slumped. “But the painting isn’t going
well.”

“There’s more to this story,” he said, looking past her
to the screen, pulling the photo up.

She read the text under the photo. It must be a gossip
site, because it used blind quotes and anonymous sources.
 
Beau Kurck was in town to finalize plans to
fund an ambitious expedition to
Antarctica
,
under the auspices of the esteemed Penguin Foundation and storied
explorer-president, Markus Edmondsson.

“Sadie had to have leaked that. She’s the only one who
uses ‘storied explorer-president’. The rest of us put an ‘and’ in between.”

“Their first salvo.”

“I’m sorry. It is a good cause.”

“Why are you sorry?” He tilted his head to get a better
look at her face. “If you had to choose, you’d take the penguin trip?”

“Over what?”

“Over me.”

She looked at him, startled. What was he saying? Her job
or him?

“Too hard a question?”

Her heart lurched, as if it were in his blasted game. “Why
do I have to choose? Going to
Antarctica
automatically disqualifies me from being in the same room as you?” She was
squeaking. It was a miracle he even understood her.

“Shh. It’s just a question. I didn’t mean the world by
it.”

“Are you magic? Did you wrap a string around my chest
last night? You’re choking my heart.”

He hugged her tight, his breath warm on her neck. “Not
what I meant,” he murmured.

She pushed him away, but not that far away. “Then,
what?”

“I have a plan for tonight. I’ve made some calls, called
in a favor. But things still might fall out a couple of ways. If you never saw
Antarctica
, or you never saw me again, what would be
worse?”

She dropped her head on his shoulder, her thoughts
racing. He was testing her? He was doing that impersonal CEO logic thing?

No
. He was afraid, too. Afraid she’d hurt him.

“You,” she said, sighing the word out. Feeling her heart
ease. Sure, it was fast, but it was right.

“Me, too.” He snuggled her close to him.

“What’s the plan?”

“Trust me. And do whatever I say tonight.” Before she
could protest, he took her lips in one of those only-by-Beau kisses. Even
though they were sitting, May had to grab his shoulders for balance.

“I have three plans. And they all include you.”

****

On this mild and quiet June Friday, black and silver
bunting hung from the balconies and draped the tall Corinthian columns in the
great hall of the
National
Building
Museum
.
The color would have to come from the partiers tonight.

But not the men, May expected. Even Beau’s tux, thought
perfectly cut, of course, was the traditional black over white. Even his
cummerbund was silver. She stood a little too close to him as they entered
under the great columns. He was hers.