Billionaire Bad Boys of Romance 2(48)

“Get your fucking hands off her,” growled another familiar voice.

In a nano-second, Victor was sprawled over a bouquet of red roses on the carpeted floor. My eyes found my hero. Jaime Zander! He’d come to my rescue. My rapid heartbeat didn’t know whether to slow down or speed up. My emotions were in turmoil.

Victor crawled to his knees. He shot Jaime a glaring look, his eyes filled with cold fury. “Be careful, Zander. Don’t fuck with me. You were always a problem child. And you still are.”

Victor’s words rippled through me. He had known Jaime since he was a boy?

Jaime didn’t flinch as the older man collected himself and stood up. He plucked out a thorn from his expensive suit jacket.

“Get the hell out of here, Victor.” Jaime’s voice was at once commanding and threatening.

“I’ll be watching your every move,” snarled Victor. “And yours too, Gloria.” Red with rage, he stomped on the exquisite flowers, crushing the delicate buds. He then staggered down the hall to the elevators and disappeared

I stared blankly at the tattered roses. Once beautiful, they were now in ruin. Their fragility touched something deep inside me, and tears pricked my eyes. I stood there silently, quivering against the door to my suite. A whirling dervish of emotions and questions assaulted me as my eyes met Jaime’s intense gaze.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft.

I nodded, words failing me in my distraught state.

He placed his strong, beautiful hands on my shoulders. I should have been running away from this man but instead I craved to sink into him. His tender touch made the anger, pain, and confusion of the last twenty-four hours fade.

“I’m sorry about the flowers,” I finally managed.

“Don’t be. I’ll buy you three dozen even more beautiful roses.”

His words made my heart flutter. “What are you doing here?”

He fisted my braid and traced my face with the wispy ends. His denim blue eyes never left mine. “I owe you an explanation. What you saw with Vivien is not what you think.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, anger creeping back into my voice. My eyes hadn’t lied. Fighting back tears, I turned my head away from him.

He cupped my jaw in his hands and gently turned my head to face him. His eyes bore into mine, and in a heartbeat, his lips consumed mine in a deep, passionate kiss that I couldn’t resist. I so wanted and needed it. A rush of heat rose to my core before he pulled away.

“Come on, angel. Let’s get the hell out of this place. We need to talk.”

I did something I needed to do all day. Against his chest, I sobbed.



Twenty minutes later, we were on the Left Bank, in a small but elegant hotel on the Boulevard Saint-Germain, soaking in a deep copper bathtub with champagne flutes on a tray table, an arm’s reach away. I was seated backside to him, my knees bent between his outstretched muscular thighs. The hot, sudsy bath was just what my body and soul craved. The tension that had built up inside me began to melt away as Jaime massaged and washed me. His touch was gentle, treating every part of my body reverently, including my breasts. He softly nuzzled my neck, and after tenderly nibbling my earlobes, he breathed into my ear, “We need to talk…but after I make love to you, my angel.”

The L-word stunned me into silence and submission. My shoulders heaved as he lifted my hips and inserted his cock into me, inch by delicious inch. The fullness of him inside me made me moan with pleasure.

“Oh, Gloria, you feel so fucking good. Work with me and trust me.” He slowly slid his length down my center, and when he pushed it back up, I met his thrust, enhancing the pleasure for both of us. He let out a sultry sigh.

He was different with me this time. The strokes were smooth and measured, and his soft lips pressed all over the nape of my neck and upper back. The only restraints were his hands, which gripped my hips. Actually, they were more like anchors than restraints, holding me up and helping me ride him as his glorious cock worked me up and down.

He whispered into my ear. “Play with yourself. It’ll make it even better for you.” It was a sweet command, not a barking order.

Still gripping a hip and not missing a stroke, he used his spare hand to place my right hand to the soft folds between my inner thighs. His hand stayed on top of mine as he guided it up and down along the sensitive tissue. No stranger to masturbation, I quickly found my clit and circled my fingers around it. His hand returned to my hip and he intensified the grinding between my legs. He was right. Right as usual. I arched my head as the intense pleasure I was giving myself mingled with the extreme pleasure he was giving me. Oh, God! I wanted to come!