Billionaire Bad Boys of Romance 2(74)

To my shock, I woke up Sunday morning quivering and pulsing from head to toe, from an actual orgasm. That was a first for me. I had orgasmed. While I was asleep. Dreaming about Tevin Page.

Tevin Page. Premier’s newest client.

I was in so much trouble.

Still somewhat bleary-eyed, I stumbled into the bathroom and woke myself up with a steamy hot shower. While I was in there I started feeling tingly all over again. So, deciding I needed to take the edge off before our date, I grabbed the soap, sat down in the tub and closed my eyes.

My fingers slid between my nether lips, one fingertip grazing my clit. Oh, yes. That felt good. Working toward a swift climax, I drew small circles over the sensitive little pearl, and with each touch, I soared closer and closer to orgasm. Within minutes I was burning all over, muscles tense, stomach tight, breathing ragged. In my mind, I imagined Tevin watching me. Those dark eyes meandering over my body, sparks of male hunger burning within their depths.

“Touch yourself,” I could hear him say. He was commanding me. Taking control. Oh, how I loved that.

I did as he asked, reaching down with my other hand and pushing two fingers into my tight canal.

His lips curled into a sexy semi-smile. “Yes, like that. Fuck yourself. Show me how good it will feel when I take you.”

Take you.

A shiver quaked through my whole body.

“Now stroke harder. Fuck that little pussy,” he commanded.

I was in no condition to refuse him, even if he was totally in my imagination. I rammed my fingers in and out, stroking myself into oblivion. I was hot, breathless, on the verge of losing control. Right there. So close.

“Now, come,” he demanded.

I spread my legs wide, clenched my inner muscles, and a blast of pleasure shot through me. My pussy rhythmically convulsed around my fingers and I kept stroking, stroking, stroking until I was shivering and weak and too worn out to move.

Now, that should keep me from getting too worked up today.

I hoped.

After taking care of all the essentials, which, for some crazy reason, included a full shave down below, I got out of the shower and started the long process of getting ready for my date. I smoothed on some scented lotion and plucked, lotion-ed, creamed, and makeup-ed myself into the vision of a modern day curvy goddess, or as close as I could come. He’d told me to wear something comfortable, so I opted for a cute skirt that fit my curves perfectly, a flirty top that showed just enough cleavage to fall shy of being slutty, and a pair of cute shoes.

Fifteen minutes before our official date time, I was ready to go…

And nervous. Really nervous.

After checking the mirror for the bazillionth time, I started pacing back and forth in front of my door and checking my phone. No call. No message. He had ten more minutes. Five minutes. Three minutes.

My phone rang and I jumped, jerking my arm. I almost lost grip of the stupid thing.

I checked it.

Sasha.

I hit the screen. “Hello?”

“Ohmygod. How bad was I?” she said, still sounding a little rough.

“It’s okay.”

“I felt like death all day yesterday. Did I make a complete ass of myself? Did I puke on anyone?”

“No. And no. You were fine.” I meandered into the bathroom for another mirror check. Hair, good. Teeth, good. Lipstick, good.

“I’ve never been so fucked up.”

Actually, she had been. But in the interest of keeping the peace, I said, “True. Speaking of that, I’m a little worried--”

“I promise, I’m cutting down. That was the last time I drink that much. Never again. I swear. Did I yell at you about ruining my chances with that guy, WhatsHisName?”

“Yes, kind of.” I hurried out of the bathroom, my sights set on my apartment door. Where was he? Had he changed his mind?

My heart dropped a little as I pulled open the door and peered out into the hall.

“I’m sorry. I was mad. I remember that. And you promised me tacos.”

“Tacos always work.” I shut the door and headed for the window to check the parking lot for any unfamiliar cars.

She giggled. “Good thing you didn’t actually buy food. You know, since I…got sick.”

“Yeah, good thing.”

“What are you doing today?” she asked.

“Um, I have plans.” Maybe.

“Plans? With who?”

I shouldered the wall, next to the window. “The guy from the bar.”

“Mr. Wal-Mart Pants’ friend?”

“Yes.”

“Really? Like a date?” she practically shrieked.

“Yes, really.” I pushed away from the wall and wandered into the kitchen.

“Ohmygod! I’m so happy for you!” she said, her voice edging up another octave with every word. “From what I remember, he was hot! Wait. I thought you were going to sign him with Premier.”