Heat Exchange (The Alpha Billionaire's Virgin Book 1) (11 page)

"I forgot to charge my phone last night and it's been off," Janey said.

"You never said where you were going this week." Leese didn't even bother to try to hide her curiosity. She wasn't the only one who'd been nagging Janey for details about her upcoming vacation, but she was the most shameless. So far Janey had avoided giving out particulars, just claiming she needed some time away.

"I'm staying at a—kind of resort," Janey blurted. "One that accepts last-minute bookings 'cause it's the off-season."

"Cool. Where?"

"Oh—it's local. Not too far from—from town. But private."

"You mean like a spa? Hot tub, stone massage, the whole shabang?"

"Well. Um. I guess they pamper you here, but—I don't think there's even a sauna. It's not all that fancy."

"Hi, sweetheart," Nyall's voice said in Janey's ear, loudly and clearly. She nearly jumped out of her skin, then glared at him when he added blandly, "Actually, the building does have a sauna."

"Ooh," Leese said. "Is that the hired help? He sounds hotlicious."

"No, he's kind of, uh, my host."

"Reeeally." Leese's juicy gossip sense was obviously tingling.

"I've got to go, Leese," Janey said. "I'm late for a lesson."

"Rightzies," Leese said and raised her voice so it resonated. "So long, mysterious stranger."

Nyall laughed and held out his hand, eyebrows arched. Janey shook her head emphatically and he grinned and reached for her nipple. The chair screeched as she shot back out of reach and flung the phone at him.

He caught it neatly. "Nyall Anderson," he said smoothly into the phone. "Nice to meet you—Leese, is it? You work with Janey?"

"She's my boss," Janey heard her assistant say before she hung her head, feeling helpless to stave off impending disaster.

"Is everything okay? No problems? Good. Janey's staying with me all this week, so if you can't reach her phone because she's forgotten to charge it, any of you should feel free to call me on mine. Here's my cell." While Janey listened in utter shock, he rattled off the number.

"Leese is a gossip," was all she could say, over and over, after Nyall handed her back her phone. "Gossip. As in, blast it all over social media gossip. And you gave her your
mobile number
?"

"This one goes directly to voice mail. Resort, Janey?"

"It doesn't matter. She'll keep it always. She'll probably sell it to the highest bidder. And if she doesn't, she knows my friend Morris, who works in a yoga studio. Do you know about the yoga community, Nyall? It'll be all over Oregon and southern California by Christmas."

"You overestimate my newsworthiness," he said dryly. "I'm one small island in a vast sea of tech. If I'm hounded, I have an assistant for that."

"Mary?"

"Mary. But let's not let ourselves get off track here. Off-season bookings? Really?"

"I lied," she said. "I couldn't think what to tell people."

"Well let's see." He pulled her up out of the chair and smoothed his hand over her bottom. "I'm staying at a friend's place for a week. No, too implausible. Too scandalous."

"I didn't think of that," she admitted.

"I can't keep my hands off you," he said, spreading his palm up her back and around to smother a breast. "Whose brilliant idea was this?"

"I could put on a bra." The thought of wearing a bra and no panties was somehow worse than being naked, though.

"But I'd know they're there, sticking out like little sugar cones. No, this is good for me, to have you prancing around my home in the buff. People are always telling me things fall into my lap too easily."

"I fell into your lap pretty easily," she pointed out.

"Yes, but you jumped right back out again."

"They fixed the elevator."

"And you ran away like the hounds of hell were chasing you." He kissed her clavicle.

"Cheesecake," she said, panicking because he was moving south and she had the awful feeling he was going to…

He did. His tongue sipped her nipple up, right into his mouth.

"You are," he said caressingly when he lifted his head a few minutes later. "You totally are. Sweet and delicious."

"I can't bear it when you do that," she said. "I ache between my legs. It's like something's pinching me."

"Good." He stood back suddenly. "What do I do first?"

Janey gasped at being abruptly let go. She stared vaguely around. "Ah. I guess…I need an apron. It's in my suitcase in the bedroom."

"Go fetch it, then come back here. I want to be the one to put it on you."

Janey had been looking forward to the idea that she could wear something to preserve her modesty while teaching Nyall how to cook. It turned out that bib aprons, even unisex white professional ones, were not designed to serve any function remotely related to modesty.

"I wondered," Nyall said with satisfaction as he rotated her body around in front of him. "I hope we don't have to boil water. It would be a shame to risk these getting scalded." He pinched both nipples sticking out to either side of the stark white rectangle.

"I thought the bodice would cover them," Janey said, squirming.

"Alas, no. I like the rear view, too."

"Stop," she said. "I can't concentrate when you do that."

He tilted his head. "We have a problem, Janey."

"What?"

"You agreed to do everything I said regarding sex, and I agreed to do everything you said regarding cooking."

"Yes, so?"

"So, what happens when I tell you to stand still and let me fondle your nipples to my heart's content and you tell me to stop fondling them and crack some eggs?"

"I win is what happens," she said sternly.

He smiled broadly, with real amusement. "How about we both obey? And see where it takes us."

"That doesn't sound safe. This is cooking, after all."

"Are cheesecakes that hazardous?" He seemed impressed.

"Um…hand mixers could be, maybe possibly. And ovens really are."

"I think," he said, "We'll use a safe word."

"Safe word?"

"Today let's make it…avocado. You're allowed to question, nay, even deny my sexual orders if you say 'avocado.'"

"Avocado."

"But you can't abuse it. I want to be able to tease you, Janey," he said seriously. "I want to turn you on. By the time that cheesecake is done, I want you moaning and begging me to allow you underwear because your pussy is dripping onto my nice clean floor."

"Oh."

"Which means you do what I say. So let's test this."

"Um."

"I'm going to sit down on this chair and suckle your tits for a while. After that you can start telling me what to do."

Since she couldn't respond to his statement with anything sensible, she didn't even try. She just nodded.

She stood there while Nyall did what he'd said he would. His tongue and lips pulled at her nipples, first one at a time, switching back and forth between them and rolling with two fingers whichever one he'd abandoned. "Pointy," he murmured. Then he coddled her breasts together and, while she watched in stunned amazement, slipped both nipples into his mouth at once and sucked on them together. She didn't even know something like that could be done. That made her all but run in place. When he finally released her breasts, they were glistening, the nipples red and jutting forward, and Janey was twisting and trembling from head to foot.

"Now," he said huskily. "What do I do?"

Take my virginity. This instant.

"Um…you cream the cheese with the sugar."

"How do I do that?" He stood up and adjusted himself in his jeans.

"Uh…" She had to get a grip. However overstimulated her body was, she trusted that Nyall knew what he was doing. If he thought she needed more time and for things to move slowly, it was probably true.

But she seriously considered jumping on him anyway.

"You're looking at me funny," he said. "Do I have something on my nose?"

"You are a maddening man," Janey said. "I can't think of anything except sex at the moment."

"Now you're getting the idea. So…what do I use?"

She took a deep breath. "First you get a big mixing bowl. Then you take these packages of cream cheese and open them. Use a measuring cup to…"

Twenty minutes later, Nyall turned off the hand mixer and tipped the bowl so she could see its contents. He looked so proud of himself Janey had to smile. He dipped his finger in the golden mixture and lifted it to his mouth to take a taste.

She stopped him. "No. There's raw egg in that. If it were straight from the farm, I'd maybe say go ahead, but this was just from the supermarket down the street."

He paused, struck. "I forgot. How did you pay for all those groceries today?"

"With my credit card," she said, testing the texture of the mixture with a wooden spoon. "It's okay. I'm eating this stuff too and besides, treating you is the least I can do given what you're doing for—"

She was spun around so fast she dropped the spoon on the floor. "Janey," he said cuttingly. "Don't say it."

Her eyes widened. "What? I was just going to say that if you're being nice enough to give up your vacation for me I should pay for—"

He took each of her hands in his and held them pinned behind her on the countertop. "
I'm
paying for our food. Having you here is not a favor to you. You're here because I want to fuck you."

"That's not true," she said hotly. "You're helping me."

"God help me, I'm trying to. But I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't want in your pants."

"Oh, yeah. Well, I guess, but even so—"

"No. We negotiated our exchange. You teach me to cook, I teach you to fuck. That's it. No paying for crap. You don't owe me anything."

His intensity was rather astonishing. "Why is it such a big deal?"

His expression said he couldn't believe she could ask that. "I am not a gigolo."

"A gigolo?" An involuntary laugh burst from her.

"You didn't hire me. We don't have a business relationship."

"But—but that's not exactly true, is it? You give your mistresses gifts. That's basically a business relationship. Think of the groceries as a gift."

"You. Are. Not. A. Mistress. Did you even read the fucking ground rules? Don't assume anything about us from the women I bed. Go only by the rules. Nothing was said about owing each other anything."

Janey's mouth opened with dawning awareness. "This has to do with your wife, doesn't it?"

His chin jerked back. "What?"

"Amy told me about her." Janey nodded. "She said your wife accused you of being selfish."

"Amy," he muttered. "You are so toast."

"Don't blame Amy. She was helping me. But now I think I've figured something out. Your wife—"

"Ex-wife."

"Your ex-wife when she was your wife made you feel like you weren't generous enough. So now you have to prove you are. So you won't take gifts from people, you just give them."

He stared at her open-mouthed, then burst into laughter. "That's a new one. Sorry, sweetheart, I like getting gifts. Good try, though. Just—do me a favor and get me socks or something. Not groceries. All right?"

"She didn't scar you?" Janey said.

"If Kimberly did anything, it was teach me to establish clearly the terms of every future relationship. Which if you recall I did with you."

"Oh."

"And which you're conveniently forgetting. So maybe I should remind you why we're both here."

She knew what that meant. Her body shivered just at the expectation of what he was going to do.

"Yeah," he drawled. "That's what I'll do. A reminder is definitely in order. Take off that apron." He let go of her hands.

Janey took off the apron.

"That was very, very good," he said. "You didn't even hesitate. Now tell me, do you like games, Janey?"

"Games? You mean like video games?"

"Sure, and board games, RPGs, dice, marbles, Red Rover, whatever."

"Sometimes."

"That's great. We're going to play a game with very simple rules. You're going to give me my instructions for making this cheesecake. Each step in detail, all the way to the end. And if you get to the end and don't skip any steps, you get a reward."

"That
sounds
easy," she said doubtfully. "Why do I have the feeling there's a catch?"

"Because you're a smart girl." He grinned and then he went down on his knees in front of her.

"Uh, Nyall? Why are you…"

"Ssh. I want you to close your eyes. Keep them closed while we're playing. Now stand there just like that and start telling me what to do. Don't stop for anything. Remember, when you've told me everything, there's a reward waiting for you."

With her eyes closed, she tried to stare through her eyelids. "Why are you holding my hips like that? Nyall, you're not going to —"

"Widen your stance. More. I want your legs wide open. Are your eyes closed? Okay, now…begin."

With her eyes scrunched up, Janey focused on her senses other than vision. She felt a tickle on the hairs curling around her pussy and shuddered.

"What did you just do?" she said.

"I just touched you a little. Don't worry about it. Concentrate on your part. I'll concentrate on mine."

"What's your part?" she squeaked.

"Listening to your instructions."

Janey's forehead wrinkled. She didn't trust his innocent tone one bit.

"Ah. Um, so the next thing to do is preheat the oven." She paused, waiting for something. Nothing happened. Relief made her expel her breath. "You need to turn the oven on by setting it to bake at 450 degrees Fahrenheit. Oh, also make sure the top rack is in the middle of the—"

She broke off as she felt something.

"What was that?" she said quickly.

"Janey." The amusement was pretty obvious in his voice. "The rules are easy. Just keep talking. Remember, if you miss a step the cheesecake could be ruined. So do your job and no. More. Questions."

"In the middle of the oven," she finished. "And, uh, so after that you have to prepare the pan. The pan is round and has a catch with a lever on the side and it's on the counter. Make sure the catch is engaged so the bottom won't fall out. Next to the pan is-ah!"