Page 31 of Meet Jon, the Billionaire

“Oh, um, have you seen my panties? What did you do with them?”

He turned about and found that black satin thong in like a second flat. It was like he had panty sense, a twisted version of the spider-sense.

“Thanks.” I held my hand out for them, and he stared at me for a moment before smiling, making my face flush red even as I let out a nervous giggle. “Um, okay.”

“I’m sorry, my dear, I just find that I can’t bear to part with them.”

He tucked them into his pocket, making eye contact with me the entire time and daring me to say that he didn’t have the right. I definitely considered those orgasms to be fair payment for a pair of panties, but it was a little disconcerting.

“Hey, you’re just going to look me bold in the eye and steal my panties?”

“If you want them back, you’ll have to come to my place. For coffee.”

His eyes smoldered, and I tried to sound casual. “Well, if you’re going to twist my arm.”

“Great. I can cook dinner for you.”

I cocked an eyebrow, and he laughed.

“I’m actually fairly good at it,” he said.

“A guy like you preparing his own meals doesn’t seem right.”

“You’d be surprised. I mean, I don’t often have the time to enjoy meals in my own house. It seems like I’m always at the office, working, but when I do have the chance I like to cook it myself.”

“You like to be in control, don’t you?” I teased.

His eyes narrowed. Suddenly, he dragged me onto his lap again, my buttocks resting on his firm cock.

“You like it when I’m in charge,” he said, a statement and not a question. Then he kissed me again, and I knew that if I didn’t escape right then I would be his prisoner for the rest of the night. One of my hands flailed for the door handle, and I finally found it.

The blast of air and noise of New York’s nightlife finally made him release his powerful kiss.

“You’re so bad,” I said, getting off his lap and exiting the limo. He climbed out after me.

“When can I see you again?” He asked, his eyes dancing with promise.

Right fucking now. Oh god, it’s taking everything I have not to drag you up to my apartment by your necktie and go at it again.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Call me tomorrow and I should have a better idea of when I’ll be free.”

“I will.” He took my hand and lifted it to his lips. “Thank you for an enchanting evening, Amy. We really must do it again. Soon.”

“Why don’t you try calling me first?” I giggled, before extricating my hand. I could feel his eyes on the whole way up the steps.

When I entered my building, I laughed giddily. It was as if I were walking on air. I was a little sore, but in all the right ways. The energy I felt coursing through my veins almost made me want to head into the bakery and start prep work, getting a head start on the morning shift. Almost.

I entered my apartment and found Tickled Pink sitting there waiting on me. After I’d danced around with her earlier, I had expected her to be less eager to be in reaching distance.

“How are you doing, kitty?” I held my finger out toward her face. She rubbed her cheek on it, something she’d rarely done. “Aw, who’s a sweet kitty?”

I went to pet her, and she promptly bit down on my thumb.

“Ow, you little shit!” I pulled my hand away and got to work on what she really wanted—dinner. I spilled out the nasty-smelling sludge that cats adore and set the bowl on the counter.

Tickled Pink ate her repast, keeping those terrible, infernal eyes upon me the entire time. I smiled and went into my bedroom to take off my fancy dress and makeup.

I’m one of ‘those’ people who doesn't like the apartment completely quiet. I switched on the TV and let it play on one of those twenty-four hour news networks. That way I could at least pretend like I was doing something useful.

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