The Billionaire’s Favorite Mistake

The first taste of him burst on her lips as tart and salty. It was shocking, really, but curious. She wanted more, and she flicked her tongue over the precum, lapping it up. At his groan of encouragement, she grew bolder. Her tongue explored more skin and her hand caressed his shaft and even down to his sac, experimenting with touches. He made more sounds when she toyed with the head, so she spent a lot of time caressing and licking it, coming up with new ways to try and please him.

“Suck me,” he murmured after a moment. “Take me in your mouth and suck.”

Oh, right. She’d gotten so distracted with the velvety texture of his skin and licking him that she’d forgotten about the other part of the blow job. Eager to please, she slid the length of him onto her tongue and closed her lips, sucking hard. His muttered expletive was exceedingly gratifying. She could do more.

She did; she took him deeper, working him with her mouth and her tongue until his shaft was stroking into her mouth as if he was fucking it. Most of the movement was hers, but she found that his hips were moving in subtle little motions as if it were impossible for him to stay still. She tried to take all of him into her mouth and down her throat a bit, but only succeeded in triggering her gag reflex. She released him with a cough. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. That’s fucking hot, sweetheart.”

Okay. She went back to lavishing attention on his cock, happy that her efforts were pleasing to him. Her tongue glided up and down his length, and she stroked him with her hand, trying to figure out the magic combination that would push him over the edge and make him come. Touching him like this was arousing to her, too. She wanted to do more than arouse him, though; she wanted to make him utterly crazy. What could she do? Her hand brushed over his balls, but she didn’t have enough experience to tell which touches there were the right kind, so she tried a different tactic.

Dirty talk.

After all, he liked it when he talked dirty to her and it made her all kinds of turned on. She figured it was the same for him.

So she traced her fingers over the head of his cock. “You’re so big and hard, Asher. I don’t think I can fit all of you in my mouth.” And she demonstrated by trying to deep throat him and failing. She returned to licking every inch of skin that she could. “Too thick. Too delicious.”

“Oh fuck, are you dirty talking to me, Greer?”

She dragged her tongue over the head of his cock. “Maybe?”

In the next moment, she was on the bed on her back, and he was between her legs. His body covered hers with a speed that was astounding. He gave her a fierce kiss and then thrust hard into her. Her smothered laugh turned into a cry of pleasure and she held on to him for dear life as he pounded away into her. A moment later, she’d come, raking her nails up and down his back and hissing out his name between her teeth. He came, too, but a lot noisier than her.

And then when he’d collapsed on top of her in that delicious way, he pressed a kiss to her cheek and then her neck. “Dirty talk. Hot damn. I love you, Greer.”

She said nothing, just stroked his back. She was pretty sure the words were nothing, just sweet utterances muttered after an orgasm.

But they were still nice to hear. And it made her even more resolved. Tomorrow, she was going to call her lawyer and fix things.

Because she was pretty sure she was in love with Asher. Again.

Chapter 12

“Mr. Sprigham, please,” Greer said into the phone and shifted in her seat near the dressing room. “It’s Miss Chadha-Janssen and I need to discuss a contract with him quite urgently.”

“Everything all right?” Kiki called out.

“Just fine,” Greer told her. “Make sure that you’re pinned in all the right spots.”

They were back at the dressmaker, with Bunni, Tiffi, and Kiki being fitted one last time for their wedding gowns, since the wedding was tomorrow. They’d all three decided on the same gown—a bodice gown with a sweetheart neckline and sweeping satin skirts. The trains were dip-dyed a pale version of each girl’s signature color so the audience would know who was going down the aisle, the bodices were encrusted with rhinestones, and the bouquets would also match the color of the triplet. Kiki fidgeted with her veil and frowned in the mirror, gazing at Greer. More cold feet?

She didn’t have time to ask; a voice answered on the other end of the phone. “Sprigham speaking.”

“Richard? Hello, it’s Greer. Do you remember the parental rights contract we worked on a few weeks ago? I’ve changed my mind about it.”

To her surprise, the lawyer snorted into the phone.

Greer frowned. “Richard?”

“Sorry. Go on.” Why did he sound amused?

“I’ve just been having second thoughts. I don’t think it’s something I should force him into.”

“I see.”

Why did this conversation feel so bizarre? “I’d like for you to contact Mr. Sutton’s lawyer and see what we can do to cancel things. I do hope it won’t be an issue.”

“Oh, I can assure you that it won’t.” His dry tone was unmistakably snarky.

Greer had had enough. “All right, what’s going on?”

“Is this a joke, Miss Chadha-Janssen? I can’t imagine that it is, but I have to ask.”

“Why would it be a joke?”

“Because the entire thing’s been a clown show from the start.” Sprigham’s dry voice sounded more irritated than amused now. “First they had the nerve to send over that contract with all the holes in it. Big loopholes, I might add, and none in your favor.”