All That He Demands (The Billionaire's Seduction Part 3) (9 page)

It was incredibly intimate – something I’d never done with anyone, or
to
anyone, ever before.

Come to think of it, the last 24 hours had been
full
of firsts.

Of course, with this one, I was more focused and attentive than with any of the others.

I was incredibly present, aware of everything. Our bodies were pressed against each other, almost as close as if he were inside me. I saw every little detail, from the beads of sweat slowly dripping from his tousled hair, to the cleft in his chin that was so difficult to shave. I inhaled the sweet odor of the soap, the clean smell of the lather, and the faintest hint of his sweat. And I listened to him breathing, felt the light tickle of his breath across my wet skin.

It was lovely just to
be
there with him, concentrating on nothing but him, as I slowly continued my work.

“What would you like to do tonight?” he murmured.

“Shhh,” I whispered as I concentrated on shaving his throat. “Don’t talk.”

He didn’t say anything again until after I had finished. I set aside the razor on the edge of the tub, wet my hands in the water, and rubbed them across his cheeks and jaw.

“Smooth as a baby’s bottom,” I said.

“But hopefully more attractive,” he grinned as I ran my wet fingers softly across his face.

I felt something stir under the water, against my leg. His shaft was thickening, lengthening, pressing more insistently against my thigh.

Now that I wasn’t worried about hurting him, it seriously turned me on.

But I didn’t let him know that.

“I felt that,” I said.

“Yeah, you
caused
that,” he said, and felt his face with his hands. “Very nice. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So, what do you want to do tonight?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Come on… you don’t want to stay cooped up in here.”

I shifted my position on his lap so that my lower lips were pressed against his shaft. “Oh, I don’t know… there are benefits to that.”

He grunted, and I could feel him swelling even more.

I began to move slowly up and down, rubbing the length of him with my softest parts. I was beginning to get wet, and not from the water.

He grabbed my ass and pressed me harder against him. He was fully erect now, hard and thick against my belly and between my thighs.

“We’ll do plenty of that,” he said, trying to retain his composure, “but don’t you want to do something? Something you haven’t done before?”

“Like what?” I asked as I continued to massage his shaft. I loved the way it felt as it slid up and down against my clit.

“Unh…” he grunted again, and closed his eyes.

“Like what?” I whispered playfully in his ear.

“I don’t know… a party at a movie star’s home, or something…”

I stopped moving and peered down at him. “Seriously?”

He opened one eye. “Sure, why not?”

“You hang out with movie stars?”

“Not usually, but I don’t think it’ll be too hard to wrangle an invitation.”

I must have looked like a fish, my mouth was gaping open so wide.

He grinned. “So I guess that’s what we’ll be doing, then. Now, before you get me revved up beyond the point of no return, let’s get in the shower and wash off. I need to make a phone call.”

“You’ve never wanted to go to any of those parties before,”
the ultra-gay voice said on speakerphone.

It was Sebastian on the line, Connor’s personal assistant in New York.

“Well, there’s always a first time for everything, isn’t there?” Connor said, and winked at me.

We were dressing in the bedroom. Connor looked incredible in a dark suit with a light blue shirt. I was putting on a little black dress from the rack of clothes, and fretting about how tightly it hugged my curves.

“I suppose,”
Sebastian sniffed, then said disapprovingly,
“I just wonder if it’s your idea… or someone else’s.”

Meaning me.

I stuck out my tongue at the phone.

Connor laughed.

“What?”

“Nothing. And what do you care?” Connor asked as he tied his necktie. “You’ve been after me forever to get out and enjoy myself. You should thank Lily for being a good influence.”

“I suppose…”
he grumbled.

“Does he ever get a day off?” I whispered to Connor.

“I heard that – and no, I don’t.”

“You do, too,” Connor said. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“That’s like asking me not to be gay, darling.”

“I got you Steven as an assistant so you could take more time off – ”

“Oh PLEASE. Would Steven know who to call to get you an invite to an A-lister’s party? I think not. Would Steven have the cojones to threaten and cajole the staff at the Dubai so you could get the penthouse at the last second possible? I think NOT. Would Stephen personally call the affronted guest and smooth things over with his astounding charm? I THINK NOT. Does Stephen even POSSESS an ounce of the charm necessary for such a thing?
I THINK NOT.
”

“You’re absolutely indispensable, Sebastian,” Connor grinned.

“Just so you recognize that. How IS the penthouse, by the way?”

“Lovely.”

“Just so you’re enjoying it. Considering the trouble I had to go to get it,”
he added, sounding like he had all the woes of the world on his weary shoulders.

“What did you have to do to get it?” I asked, curious.

“What do you mean?”

“Wasn’t there somebody in it before us?”

“You mean, what did I have to promise the previous occupants so they would vacate it for YOU?”

“Yes, Miss Thing, that’s exactly what I mean,” I said tartly.

Connor stifled a laugh.

“Hmph. You don’t want to know.”

“Actually, I do,” I pressed.

“It was terrible – there was screaming, and threats, an epic temper tantrum – ”

“On your part or theirs?” Connor asked.

“Very funny. But in the end, I smoothed it all over – ”

“They hadn’t checked in yet, had they?” Connor smirked.

There was a long pause on the phone.

“…no, not yet,”
Sebastian said, both haughty and embarrassed at the same time.
“They missed their connecting flight from JFK, so they were staying over in New York for the evening.”

“You big liar,” I teased.

“I am not a liar!”
he snapped, now just haughty.
“They agreed to give up the penthouse for the weekend, but I had to throw in two nights free and carte blanche on the room service.”

“Wow,” I said, a little stunned. “Anything they want… free?”

“Yes. And I hope it was worth it,”
Sebastian snapped.

“A pittance of a price, and well-played, my good man,” Connor said. “Now, so you can get off work at a reasonable time, can you call your contact and see what’s up?”

“Of course. I’ll have to move heaven and earth once again just to make sure you’re happy – ”

“I hardly think
that,
” Connor said.

“How do you know this guy, the one you’re calling?” I asked.

“Well, not that it’s any of your business…”
Sebastian said, and then turned positively giddy.
“…but I met him on vacation down in Cabo.”

“I thought you never went on vacation,” Connor said.

“Shut up and let me tell my story.”

Connor gave me a look like,
Well, I just stepped in it, didn’t I?

“He’s a hairdresser – ”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Connor whispered in my ear, and I giggled.

Sebastian continued, off in his own little world. I could hear the rapture in his voice.

“He’s worked on some of the biggest movies of the last couple of years, the stars all love him, including a certain twenty-something Oscar winner – ”

“Did you sleep with him?” I asked as I applied some lipstick, some fancy European brand I’d never heard of before. A little kit had been delivered up with the rack of clothes, I just hadn’t noticed it at the time. I’d been too stunned by the Gucci, Versace, Manolo’s, and Jimmy Choo’s.

“I – what – that’s none of your – ”
Sebastian sputtered.

“You
totally
slept with him!” I said gleefully.

“I – that’s – Connorrrrr!”

“Don’t tease Sebastian, he’s sensitive,” Connor admonished me playfully.

“I am NOT!”

“Though yes, the hairdresser was all he talked about for three weeks after his vacation,” Connor confirmed.

“I DID NOT!”

“You should call him up. Tell him you’re coming out here for a couple of days, see what he says,” Connor suggested.

Silence.

“…really?”
Sebastian asked in a tiny, hopeful voice.

“Sure. You deserve a break. Get the Dubai to set up a room for you… that is, if you can’t get the hairdresser to invite you to stay with him.”

“Oh my God… do you think… oh, I wonder if he’ll want me to…”

“Sebastian?”

“Yes?”

“Call him.”

“Okaaaaay,”
he said, giddy as a thirteen-year-old girl in love.
“I’ll call you back as soon as I know something!”

“Please do,” Connor said. “Good luck.”

“Thank you! Goodbye, Lily!”

“Bye,” I said, then looked at Connor in amazement. “Were those two different people we just talked to? The guy at the beginning of the call, and the one who just hung up?”

“Eh, Sebastian’s like everybody else… he needs to get laid once in awhile, or he gets uptight as hell.”

I sauntered up to Connor and ran one finger across his chest. “Well,
you
should be feeling pretty relaxed, then.”

He gave me a huge grin. “Incredibly. And you?”

I stood up on my tiptoes and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. “Wonderfully.”

He chuckled. “Good. Now let’s go get something to eat before I get carried away and ‘relax’ you some more.”

“That wouldn’t be so bad…”

“No, it wouldn’t,” he agreed, taking me by the hand, “but we’d
never
leave the room – and we don’t want to disappoint Sebastian.”

“God forbid,” I said as I rolled my eyes.

Connor laughed. “Exactly. Especially with all that heaven-and-earth-moving he’s going to on our behalf with his beloved hairdresser.”

I laughed and let Connor lead me out the door.

“I am
not
happy about this,” Johnny glowered as he held the rear door to the Bentley open.

“So you’ve said a dozen times already,” Connor said as he helped me inside. “But I’m not going to turn into a hermit just because some thug from Central Casting lobbed a nondescript threat my way.”

“I still think – ”

“Yes, yes,” Connor said as he got in and closed the door in Johnny’s face.

“That was rude,” I frowned. “He’s just looking out for you.”

Connor groaned. “Not you, too.”

“You said earlier that you should remember why you hired him.”

“So what, you want to stay in the hotel room all night?”

“I can think of worse things.”

Connor grinned and put a hand on my leg.

I pointedly took it off and put it back on his knee. “But we’re not going to do any of them if you’re not nicer to the people trying to keep you safe.”

“Who died and made
you
Miss Manners?”

“I just remember a charming, wonderful man who made my boss apologize to me Friday night. I’d hate to think he’s not around anymore.”

“Yeah, but your boss was an asshole.”

I stared at him, my eyebrows raised, with just the barest hint of a smile on my lips.

Connor glared at me… paused, as though wondering how far he wanted to push it… then reached out and pushed a button on the console next to him. “Johnny?”

“What,”
the bodyguard’s voice grumbled over the intercom.

Connor glanced at me. I prodded him onward with my eyes.

“Sorry I closed the door on you, man. I know you’re just trying to keep me safe.”

I could hear the smile in Johnny’s voice.
“Lily made you say that, didn’t she.”

“Yes, she did.”

“She probably blackmailed you into it, didn’t she.”

“Extortion… blackmail… withholding of certain favors…”

I smacked Connor playfully on the arm.

“Mm-hm. So, does this mean we can go back upstairs?”

“Nope. Let’s roll.”

Johnny sighed, the intercom clicked off, and the Bentley slid into motion.

I squinted at Connor disapprovingly.

“What? You said to be nice, so I was.”

“Yeah, but – ”

“Do you want to stay locked away in a prison all weekend?”

“It’s a very nice prison.”

“It is, and you’re a
very
nice cellmate, but let’s go live a little.”

“You like making his life difficult, don’t you.”

“No,” Connor said, stretching his arm around my shoulders, “I just like making him earn his paycheck, that’s all.”

Then he leaned over and started nibbling at my neck, and all my objections were quickly forgotten.

The restaurant was amazing, recently opened by a young hotshot who had decided to get out from the shadow of a celebrity chef he had worked under for years. There was a large main room, full of candlelight and flowing tablecloths, where people obviously came to see and be seen. But there was also a twisty, maze-like ring around the main hall, with tiny little individual areas partitioned off from the other tables. Connor and I sat at one of these tables, isolated from the rest of the restaurant, in our own little world.

Of course, to get it, we had to go through a snobby maître-d’.

She was a beautiful redhead, tall, elegant and cool, like a young Nicole Kidman. I could tell she was affected by Connor’s good looks, but resented being affected. She was pleasant enough, but her smile was remote as she assured him, “I’m sorry, sir, but there’s absolutely no way I can fit you in this evening.”