The Billionaire of Bluebonnet (Bluebonnet #1.5)(5)
Author: Jessica Clare

His hand shifted between them, and she felt the head of his c*ck rub through her slick folds, teasing her. Then, he was poised at the entrance of her core, and he sank deep.

Risa cried out at the sensation, wrapping her arms around his neck. She hadn’t had sex in a while and the sensation was deliciously tight, and he seemed to fill her completely. Wonder spread through her at the feel of his body between her legs, and his c*ck sank deep inside her.

This was perfection.

Travis gave her another kiss, this one rougher, and began to thrust, his strokes sure and rapid. Helpless to fight the tide of pleasure, Risa clung to him, raising her h*ps to meet each of his movements in a rough rocking motion that carried both of them forward. Over and over he drove into her, each thrust making her desire build anew, until she was crying out with pleasure, her p**sy clenching tight around him.

And still he stroked into her, as if he had control of iron and was determined to drive her wild.

Her nails dug into his back, and then her hands slid to his buttocks, driving him harder into her. She needed more from him. Needed this intensity to spiral out of control and take her with it. It was so good that she didn’t want it to ever end—and yet she wanted to shatter in that moment. “Oh God, Travis, you’re incredible,” she blurted, and then immediately felt embarrassed that she’d said something so clearly adoring.

He simply groaned and leaned in, biting at her lip. “Risa. Sweet Risa.”

Her name on his lips sent a shiver of pleasure through her, and she tightened her thighs around him, driving him deeper into her with each thrust.

“Travis,” she breathed again, tasting his name on the next thrust.

As if sensing what she needed, he leaned closer still and murmured her name back to her. “Risa.”

It was that throaty whisper of her name that made every muscle in her body tense, made her p**sy clench, and made the orgasm jolt through her body again, driving her back to the brink for the second time that night.

Travis growled her name one more time and his thrusts grew jerky, wild, and then he sank over her, his own pleasure sated.

The room grew really, really quiet. Risa lay in the darkness, afraid to move. He lay on top of her body, his skin damp with exertion, his chest mashing her br**sts into twin pancakes. His weight was constricting her breathing, but he felt so incredible that she didn’t want to complain. She wanted him to stay in her arms forever.

But then he rolled to the side and got up, disposing of the condom, and the moment was gone.

She lay in the bed, staring up at the ceiling, almost afraid to wonder what came next. A quick thank-you and then shuffling back to his room? Getting himself another drink in the hopes of forgetting that he’d shared a quick pity f**k with his grandmother’s unattractive assistant?

To her surprise, she felt the bed dip and his big form move back into bed next to her. His arms wrapped around her from behind and tugged her close to him. He was . . . snuggling.

Before she could think of this with wonder, he was asleep and lightly snoring in her ear.

Risa smiled and wrapped her hand around his. Because, somehow, that was okay, too. It made this fantasy seem just a little bit real. That Travis Jesson, sex god and billionaire, was just a little bit human, and snored when he drank.

For some reason, she liked seeing that he wasn’t perfect. It brought him closer to her level. Just a touch.

* * *

When Travis awoke the next morning, he was in a strange bed with a curvy, plump bottom nestled against him. His morning wood turned into a full-blown erection.

The woman curled up against him sighed in her sleep and wiggled just a little closer, brushing her ass against his c*ck again.

Sleepiness fell away, along with the morning fog. He’d slept with Risa, his grandmother’s assistant. He could blame it on the alcohol, but the truth of the matter was that he hadn’t been drunk enough to lose his senses. He’d simply wanted her in his bed. The alcohol was merely an excuse.

Of course, she was still in bed with him. He saw no reason why he shouldn’t take advantage of that.

He skimmed an exploring hand over the curve of her hip. More generous than the last few women he’d dated, but he liked that. She was soft and pleasant to touch, her pale skin dappled with freckles. She was nak*d next to him, too. He liked that as well.

Travis slid a hand over her rounded belly, and then cupped her p**sy. She moaned, pressing back against him harder, and he had to bite back a moan of his own.

So deliciously responsive. A man could get used to that.

Suddenly, she rolled over, her eyes flying open to look at him.

He paused, his hand not moving from her sex. Looked down at her. Waited to see what she wanted. If she wanted him to get off of her, he would. If she wanted him to keep touching her, he’d definitely do that.

Her blue eyes went soft at the sight of him against her, and her gaze went to his mouth. Her fingers reached up and brushed his jaw, where his five o’clock shadow grew. “God, you’re sexy in the morning.”

That wasn’t a no. Excellent.

He leaned over to kiss her neck and she shivered, her hand sliding up to dig her fingers into his rumpled hair. Her h*ps lifted as his fingers slipped between the folds of her p**sy and began to stroke her. Within moments, she was whimpering low in her throat, her flesh wet with need against his hand.

Good, because he wasn’t going to last long.

Travis grabbed a condom from her dresser drawer, put it on, and then tugged her h*ps back against him. Her ass was full and round, and for some reason that was exciting to him. He liked the feel of it against him. He lifted one of her thighs, murmuring encouragement to her, and then thrust into her from behind.

She arched back against him, crying out. Her h*ps bucked with his next thrust, pushing back. He let his fingers glide over her cl*t even as he thrust again, wanting to bring her along with him. He pumped into her with another quick stroke, rubbing her cl*t harder. Her mouth fell open, her eyes closed as she rocked her h*ps in response, her hand covering his as if to drag him away from her.

To his surprise, she wasn’t stopping him from rubbing her clit. Instead, she grasped his hand and pushed his fingers against her flesh, hard, rubbing with a ferocity that he wouldn’t have thought to use.

It made him wild.

He bit her neck, then her shoulder, even as he rubbed and pushed harder against her sensitive flesh. She was sucking in small breaths now, her throat catching with every rough stroke of his fingers, every forceful stab of his cock. He could feel her muscles tensing against him as she rocked, her movements becoming erratic.

Her p**sy began to clench around him, quivering with her orgasm. She made a strangled little sound in her throat that was about the sexiest damn thing he’d ever heard, and that pushed him over the edge. He bit down on her shoulder again, teeth locked into her soft flesh as he came, pumping into her.

When he could breathe again, he lifted his head and kissed the bite mark he’d left on her shoulder. She was looking at him with a dazed, sleepy gaze that was almost . . . adoring.

Then she glanced over at the alarm clock. Her mouth lifted in a sad smile. “Nine A.M. I guess you should get going soon? You’re probably busy.”

Travis frowned. He was supposed to be busy today, yes. He was pretty sure there was a business meeting in about a half hour that he was going to end up missing. He didn’t care. He didn’t feel like going anywhere right at the moment. “Why? You trying to get rid of me?”

Her eyes widened. “No, not at all. I just didn’t want you to feel . . . obligated to stick around.” She bit her lip and tugged at the sheet, sliding away from him. “I should shower. Gregory’s going to need a walk before you leave with him.”

She looked terribly sad. He wanted to tell her to keep the damn pig, but the words stuck in his throat. She couldn’t. And his grandmother had wanted him to have the thing.

She wrapped the sheet around her voluptuous body and turned away without giving him a backward look. He heard the boards creak in the old house as she headed down the hall to the bathroom, heard the shower start.

He lay back in bed, head on her soft pillows, staring at the ceiling. He wouldn’t see her again after today. There’d be no reason to. She’d be starting a new life in Dallas, and he’d return to his meetings, business trips, and endless emails. His grandmother’s house would sit empty and forgotten until his parents returned from their sailing trip.

Everyone would go their separate ways. As they should.

But for some reason, he kept thinking of Risa’s soft smile. The way her eyes lit up with pleasure. The delicate spatter of freckles on her hips. The plump ass pushing up against him as he’d slept. The way she’d grabbed his hand and showed him exactly what she wanted.

That was Risa in a nutshell—soft and sweet and laughing, but determined to get what she wanted. That was what had made her such a good caretaker for his grandmother. She was kind and thoughtful, with a core of steel. Hell, she no longer even asked him if he wanted the pig. She just assumed he was taking it with him.

He liked that about Risa. She intrigued him, and she was sexy, and she was incredibly stubborn. One night wasn’t going to be enough time with her, he knew. He wanted more time to explore her body. To take her a hundred different ways and see her reactions. To see what other things she’d be demanding about. He needed to find a way to keep her close to him for a little while longer yet.

Until he got her out of his system.

A brilliant idea formed in his mind.

* * *

When Risa got out of the shower, Travis was no longer in her bed. She ignored the momentary twinge of disappointment at that and got dressed. She could hear him in the kitchen, dishes clinking, and heard a small piggy squeal that told her that he’d let Gregory in from outside. Good—maybe they were bonding. Maybe this wouldn’t be as painful for all parties involved as she had thought.

The moment she walked into the kitchen, though, that thought flew out the window. To her horror, one of the casserole dishes of leftovers had been taken out of the fridge and set on the floor for Gregory to eat. The pig wolfed the noodles down, his little tail pinwheeling with excitement. At the nearby dining table, Travis had a cup of coffee and was checking messages on his BlackBerry.

She raced to the pan, sliding it away from the pig. “What are you doing? You can’t feed a pig tuna casserole!”

Travis glanced over at her, then down at the pig, his brows wrinkling together. “He was eating it.”

“He’s not supposed to eat it,” she cried, dumping the food into the garbage. “You can’t give him people food. He’ll get sick. And fat.” She shook her head at Travis, dismayed. “Your gran and I were always very careful with his diet.”

“I know the gross profit margins of thirteen different competing companies, Risa. I can do extremely complicated macros in spreadsheets to calculate financial data. I can persuade investors to purchase technology they’re certain will fail.” He glanced up from his BlackBerry to look over at her. “I don’t know how to feed a pig.”

Risa said nothing for a moment, an unhappy knot sinking into her stomach. He was right. He didn’t know how to feed a pig, and he was going to take Gregory away before he had a chance to learn. The pig was used to very specific meals and she worried about his health if Travis just fed him whatever. “If you have an extra hour or two, we can go over his care—”