Page 117 of Most Eligible Billionaire

I’m stunned at how bad I want her. I want to tell her, but I don’t want to scare her.

There aren’t words for it anyway.

Well, maybe there are.

I stand and pull off my own clothes with much less ceremony, looking her over, laid out for me. Her gaze looks drugged. She presses a foot to my belly while I take off my pants.

I roll on a condom. I crawl over her and worship her. She kisses my biceps as I press her hands over her head, as I settle between her legs, spread open for me.

Not for Henry Locke, Most Eligible Bachelor, but me.

She watches me with those brown eyes, watches me as I guide myself into her. I push low and deep into the hot grip of her body, trembling all the way in.

She lowers her eyelids, gone with pleasure. Her groan, when I'm fully inside her, is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.

She squeezes my ass as I move inside her, rocking gently into her. I change my angle until I hit that spot that makes her gasp, sweet and sharp, and then I stay there, moving at it, watching the way her eyes glaze over. Taking her clear over the edge with me.

Afterwards, I throw on a robe and go around to the veranda to fire up the hot tub.

“I didn’t know this was over here,” she says, coming up behind me and circling her arms around me. She’s wearing one of my shirts. It makes me want to walk her right back into the bedroom. Maybe the wall.

“Little-known secret of my veranda.”

She dips a toe in. “Mmm.”

It’s a cool, crisp day—the kind tailor-made for a veranda hot tub.

“Go on. Get in. I’ll grab the beers.”

She narrows her eyes. “I thought you weren’t supposed to drink alcohol in these things.”

“Maybe you can look into making a citizen’s arrest later on,” I say.

She grins. “I think I will look into that.”

When I get back, she’s in there, eyes closed, head tipped back. I hand her the beer and sink in next to her.

“I should get Smuckers,” she says, sounding relaxed. “I really, really so should.”

“April can handle Smuckers,” I say. “Also, I don’t think Smuckers would be fun in a hot tub.”

“Not to mention how bad it would mess up his hairdo.”

I'm in my living room later on, waiting for Vicky to come out and weigh in on where to go to dinner. We’re planning on picking Carly up as soon as her rehearsal is done. We might even try to catch part of it. We did a lot of line running with her and Bess over the long weekend, and she had a great presence. I’m looking forward to seeing her in action. We make a plan to sneak in the back to catch the tail end of the rehearsal.

I grab my phone and I’m scrolling Instagram when the elevator doors open.

It’s Brett.

I stand, teeth gritted so hard I'm shocked they don’t break. I haven’t contacted him. I’m too angry.

“Dude,” he says, coming in.

“Dude?” I get in his face. “What the hell were you thinking? You knew who that was and you brought him in?”

“Of course I knew. But you’re the one who stole the show. That punch? Stroke of genius. The ultimate good cop move.”

“You bring himin?”

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