Beauty and the Billionaire (Page 16)

Beauty and the Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #2)(16)
Author: Jessica Clare

“Ah!” His hand tightened in her hair, and then she felt his hot come filling her throat. She ignored his efforts to pull away, digging her fingers into his slacks and holding him there until he’d finished.

He panted above her and, with a shudder, the tension left his body.

Gretchen released him, swallowing again, her own body wired with need. It wouldn’t happen tonight, she suspected. It would be too much for him to take in. Tonight was all about Hunter.

His fingers slowly released her hair from their stranglehold and then he reached out and caressed her cheek.

“I . . . ,” he began.

She got to her feet, nearly swaying with how much she wanted him. Her core ached, her pulse throbbing with need. She forced herself to ignore it. “Don’t overthink it, Hunter. Just enjoy it.”

“Gretchen.” The way he said her name was so husky that it made her wet all over again.

She bit her lip and brushed her fingers over his mouth, careful to avoid the scar that tugged down the one side. “Goodnight, Hunter.”

And she turned around and left.

It was the most difficult walk she’d ever done. She wanted to run back to him, bend over the nearest table and present him with her slick, aching sex, demanding that he take her. But Hunter was skittish. He’d bolt if she overwhelmed him.

There was something that filled him with anxiety and some sort of idea that he was hideous—his scars, probably. It was something that had affected him so much that he chased most people out of his life, lived in a big lonely house with no one but a grouchy butler, and avoided the world.

She’d take her time with him. It was important to her to show him how delicious he was and how wonderful sex could be.

And so she’d be patient. Or try to, anyhow.



Hunter leaned against the pole in the greenhouse, his entire body feeling wrung out.

Had he imagined it all? That had to be it. Surely reality didn’t hold a place where someone as beautiful and sexy as Gretchen approached him in his greenhouse while he’d jerked on his cock, desperate with need for her. Reality didn’t include scenes like that. Nor did it have her kneeling in front of him, taking him in her mouth and finishing for him.

It did not have her moaning with her own pleasure as she took him into her throat.

He groaned, his mind full of images of her.

He’d never expected that in a million years. He was still shaken to his core by her.

That phone call at dinner had aroused something in him that he was unfamiliar with—jealousy. She’d gotten a phone call from a man, and white-hot agony had pierced his mind. He wanted her. He didn’t want that stranger she was so friendly with to have her.

Gretchen was his.

And before tonight, he’d have cast aside that idea. She didn’t want a scarred, lonely man. She deserved someone as lively and full of life as she was.

And yet tonight, she’d touched him. She’d taken him into her mouth and pleasured him. And when he’d tried to pull away, she’d insisted on finishing him.

His c*ck grew hard again, just thinking about her. Automatically, he took himself in his hand, stroking as he closed his eyes.

He’d been blown away by the sight of her gorgeous br**sts the other day when she’d flashed him. He allowed that visual to mix in with his erotic thoughts of her now. Her br**sts were full, with small, rosy n**ples. He pictured her nak*d as she knelt in front of him, the tips brushing against his skin as she took his c*ck in her mouth. Groaning, he fisted his c*ck harder.

At the thought of her beautiful lips parting to take him, the tip of her tongue flicking over the head, he came with a shout, spraying his cum on the path before him. Drained, Hunter collapsed to his knees, staring at his greenhouse.

He’d never picture it quite the same way ever again. Never be able to come here without seeing her kneeling in front of him.

It was his first sexual experience with someone else. And it had been flat-out amazing. He didn’t know what had possessed Gretchen to give such a gift to him, but he’d treasure it always.


Hunter dressed with care for dinner the next night. He’d spent the last day in turmoil, his world upended by his interlude with Gretchen.

He’d worked out until his skin dripped with sweat, then headed to the showers. But the showers made him think of Gretchen and how she’d discovered him nak*d. So he’d jerked off and then jerked off again when he thought of her, easing her robe open.

If she knew he was a virgin, she’d be appalled. Someone as open and forthright with her sexuality as Gretchen would laugh at him. So he needed to be relaxed at dinner. Act as if nothing had changed between them.

And yet he picked her a rose with extra care. He’d liked seeing one of his flowers behind her ear the other night. Perhaps he’d get to put this one on her, run his fingers along the delicate shell of her ear, tuck it into her red hair . . .

Throw her down on the table and f**k the hell out of her, make her give those wild, sexy little moans again.

Hunter shook his head, willing the visual out of his mind and for his c*ck to go down. He took a few moments to compose himself, then entered the dining room they used for their meetings.

It was empty.

She’d called off dinner. She was embarrassed by what she’d done. Disappointment flashed through him, and Hunter moved to the table, picking up the note there.

Dinner’s running late. I’m in the kitchens. G.

Immediately, he headed for the kitchens, hope putting a spring in his step. She wasn’t avoiding him, then. He adjusted his collar, finding it rather warm in the house, and played with the cuffs of his shirt as he entered the kitchen, rose in hand.

He didn’t see her at first. The delicious scent of baking bread filled the air, but he could see no one. His gaze scanned the kitchen and disappointment flared again.

Then Hunter noticed her bent over, her lovely ass flexing as she pulled something out of the oven. He immediately went hard again, longing tearing through him.

God, he wanted her.

“Oh! Hey,” Gretchen said, turning and closing the door to the oven with her foot. “Sorry about this. I thought the roast would be ready in a half hour, but it’s still looking a little pinker than I’d like, so we need to give it a bit more time. That’s why I’m still in here.” She set the bread pan on the counter and smiled at him. “Hope you don’t mind filling up on bread and appetizers until it’s done.”

He gave a brief, jerky nod, unable to take his eyes off her smiling face.

“Is that for me?”

“What?” He glanced down and noticed he was still clutching the pale yellow rose he’d picked for her. “Yes,” he said, internally wincing at the brusque tone of his voice.

“The bud’s tight on this one,” she said, pulling off her oven mitts and taking the flower from him. She lifted it to her nose and closed her eyes, giving a slight groan of pleasure that made him tense with anticipation all over again. “Smells wonderful.”

“Yes,” he said again. He didn’t know what else to say. He was mesmerized by her.

As he watched, she lifted the rose and brushed the rosebud against her full lower lip. “Soft.”

His c*ck jerked. The way she’d moved it against her lips made him think of yesterday. Oh, fuck.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Ready for dinner?”

“I . . .” He couldn’t go anywhere. Not with this aching hard-on. Couldn’t sit with her and pretend that he wasn’t ready to spill in his pants. “No. I must go.”

And before she could protest, he walked out of the kitchen.

Like a f**king coward. A f**king coward who needed an ice-cold shower to get his c*ck back under control.


Gretchen was getting frustrated.

She sighed and flopped down on the couch in the library, glaring up at the blue mural on the ceiling.

She’d thought their little interlude in the greenhouse would make him open up to her a bit more. Get him to bend a bit. She wanted more from him. Last night, she’d dreamed of kissing him for hours. Nothing else but just sitting in each other’s arms, exploring each other’s lips as if not a care in the world.

She wanted that. She wanted to kiss Hunter, and so much more.

But she hadn’t seen him for two days. She’d invited him to dinner and he’d declined. Was he done with her now that she’d gone down on him?

It didn’t make sense. Every instinct she had about men—and she’d dated around quite a bit during her college days—told her that Audrey had nailed it and he was a virgin. It explained his reactions perfectly, his wariness any time she came on to him.

And despite his virginity, he still wanted her. It was obvious in every look he sent her way.

So why was he avoiding her?

Maybe he was uncomfortable with approaching her and asking for more? Should she be bold and come right out with it? Put his hand on her breast and her hand on his c*ck and say, “I want this”?

Sighing, she picked up another letter and skimmed it. “Good God, these two are horny little buggers,” she muttered to herself, reading yet another description of Ben licking at Lula’s perfect feminine petals. The letters had been arousing at first, but with her own frustrations in the relationship department, they just became excruciating. It was no fun to read about someone else having incredible sex when she couldn’t even get Hunter to kiss her.

She folded up a letter and tossed it aside. Hell, she needed to get Hunter in here to read some of these letters. Then maybe he’d be just as worked up as her.

Gretchen stared down at the folded letter on the table. That was it.


Get Hunter in here. Somehow get him to read a letter. Then, her reluctant virgin would be putty in her hands.

A wicked smile curved her mouth.

She penned a quick note and folded it, then rang the bell pull. Five minutes later, Eldon arrived.

He gave her a sour look. “What may I help you with?”

Gretchen held the note out to him. “Can you please give this to Hunter?”

Eldon looked down at the note. With a disapproving sniff, he took it in his hand. “More commentary about my cooking?”

“Nope. I’m inviting Hunter in for some research help.”

Eldon raised an eyebrow. “I am sure Mr. Buchanan would prefer not to be disturbed with such requests. If you need assistance, you are to go to me.”

Yick. The thought of having Eldon assist made her want to throw up her cookies. Thank god he had no idea what he’d just suggested. “No, I’m pretty sure he’d prefer to help me with this on his own. Anyhow, can you just give him the note?”

“Very well.” Man, she didn’t think one person could stuff that much disapproval in two words, but she was wrong.

Eldon disappeared down the hall and Gretchen watched the door, a bundle of nerves. After five minutes had passed and no one showed up, she began to feel silly. Of course he wouldn’t come the instant she summoned him. He could have been busy. She returned to the letters, pulling out a few that would be likely candidates for her seduction scenario, and began to type in the next letter in sequence.