How To Catch A Billionaire(16)
Author: Helen Cooper

“Oh sorry. I think I drifted off to sleep,” I lied and sat up straight, determined that I wouldn’t be distracted by his hot body.

“Okay, so my full name is Harry Bradley Green.” He grinned and me.

“Ok, Bradley.”

“But everyone calls me Harry.” He paused. “Especially my good friends and of course my fiancée.”

“Why of course,” I purred. “Why don’t I call you naughty Harry, for a more personal effect?”

“No Sarah.” He sighed. “Just Harry.”

“Ok, Just Harry.” I grinned. “Like those books Just William.”

“Who?” He looked confused.

“They are English books about this rascal of a boy William and he does all sorts of crazy things and…”

Harry held his hand up. “Okay, okay. I get it. And no. Not Just Harry. Just call me by my first name, please.”

“Fine, ass**le.”

“That’ll do.” He smiled at me sweetly and I looked away. He had no right to look so handsome and boyish when he smiled. “I’ll call you, Sarah.”

“That is my name.”

“Sarah dearest, would you like a cookie?” He reached over and caressed my face, staring at me in wonder. My heart started beating so quickly that I thought I was going to have a heart attack.

“Uhm what?” I swallowed hard as I stared back into his eyes.

“Would you like anything to eat, my love?” He moved in and lightly kissed my lips. “I just want to make sure you are okay.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I relaxed under his mouth and kissed him back tenderly, telling myself it was the alcohol making me lose my inhibitions so quickly. I pressed my lips against his harder and pushed my tongue into his mouth. I ran my hands up and down his chest and melted into him as I kissed him. “Mmm,” I moaned into him happily. I felt him gently push me away, eyes sparkling and a huge grin on his face.

“Don’t get too carried away, Sarah. My parents are pretty old-school, that don’t need to see us make love.”

“Oh.” My face flushed red. He hadn’t been kissing me because he wanted me but because he was practicing his act. “Well, I want to be convincing, seeing as you are a sex-God and everything.”

“Sure.” He laughed and traced his fingers across my lips. “I must say you are a very good actress, Sarah. Very good indeed.” He slipped his finger into my mouth and stared into my eyes. It tasted salty and I imagined that his c**k would probably taste pretty similar at that point. I felt myself getting horny and bit his finger hard.

“Ow.” He yanked his finger out of my mouth and frowned. “That hurt.”

“Oh did it?” I smiled at him sweetly. “My bad.”

“So, what’s your middle name?” He pulled away from me slightly and I suppressed a smile. There was no way I could keep my hands off him if he was so close to me.

“Jane.” I sighed. “Sarah Jane Smith.”

“Cute.”

“Plain and boring.” I scrunched up my nose. “My parents had no originality.”

“Sure they did, Sarah Jane.” He teased me. “At least it wasn’t Pippi Longstockings or something.”

“Yeah, there’s that I suppose.”

“Ok, so you’re twenty-two.” He looked at me. “When do you turn 23?”

“Next week.”

“Oh, so I’m not as much older than you as you thought.” He grinned at me mischievously.

“Yeah. You are only 14 years older, I guess.” I stuck my tongue out at him.

“I have eighteen year olds throwing themselves at me, Sarah. Many women don’t have the same problems with age that you do.”

“I don’t have a problem with it.” I frowned. Who were these eighteen year olds that wanted him and did he want them? Gross!

“I’m not in the habit of dating younger women, Sarah.” He looked at me intently. “In fact, I don’t date them. I prefer my women mature and worldly and in their thirties.”

“Uh huh.”

“Women in their thirties don’t play games. I don’t play games either so it’s a perfect match.”

“So hire one of them to be your fiancée then.” I jumped off of the couch. “And take me home.”

“Sarah.” Harry jumped up and pulled me into his arms. “I don’t want them to be my fake fiancée. I want you.”

I burst out laughing and buried my head into his shoulder. I was laughing so hard that my body was convulsing.

“Are you okay?” He pulled me back slightly and gazed into my eyes.

“Yes,” I gulped out between laughs. “Sorry you just reminded me of that Hallmark movie?”

“Huh?” He looked at me puzzled and cocked his head. “Hallmark?”

“Yeah, I saw this movie a few months ago called, ‘My Fake Fiancé’ and it made me laugh.”

“Because?”

“I’m not sure,” I answered honestly. “It just did.”

“You are a funny one, aren’t you Sarah?” He studied my face. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”

“Bippity boppity boo,” I sang randomly.

“Huh?” The confused look was back on his face.

“It’s a song,” I answered patiently.

“But what does it have to do with what we’re talking about?”

“It doesn’t. It just popped into my mind.”

“Oh.” He scratched his head. “This is going to happen a lot, isn’t it?”

“What—me singing?”

“You singing, you laughing at jokes in your head, you being inappropriate and goofy.”

“Most probably.” I grinned back at him. “Wanna see something?”

“Depends what you are showing?” He grinned excitedly at me.

“You wish.” I laughed, all of a sudden I’m in the happy high state that I get when I am officially drunk and all the alcohol has hit my system. “Sit down.” I push him down to the couch. “Do you have a stereo system?”

“Yes?” He points to a Bose iPhone dock speaker and I grin.

“Perfect.” I run over and take my iPhone out of my pocket and find a song in my iTunes.

“What’s going on?”

“I want to show you a dance.”

“You’re going to dance for me?” He grins and sits back.