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Gambling For The Virgin:A Dark Billionaire Romance(45)



"I'm not sure what you mean, sir?"

"Well, I could've sworn I saw you checking out my package just now," he  says in a bold and brazen tone. He's smiling so big that I can see his  teeth.

"I see," the staffer says, smiling in parallel when he understands the  euphemism. He seems to immediately warm up, "In that case, I just may be  the delivery driver you're looking for."

I can hardly believe what I'm seeing and hearing. A minute ago, my  stepdad was pointing to Jocelyn and I, talking on and on about family  values, and now here he is, hitting on a staffer. Actually, I shouldn't  be surprised at all. I mean, I know him all too well, but what's  shocking is that he's willing to do this at a public event, and risk  making himself look like an ass. I'm trying not to stare. I mean,  honestly, if he wants to continue to fuck up his marriage and throw away  a woman as gorgeous as Jocelyn, I say let him. I'll gladly fucking step  in, but I can tell Jocelyn is hurt. She's hearing this too, and is  trying to pretend as if she isn't, but it's pretty fucking obvious as we  continue to hear him. It only confirms what I've already told  her-Michael is gay.

The staffer extends his arm and ever so slightly brushes his hand  against my stepdad's suit. "By the way, I love this suit; it looks great  on you, but I must admit, I'm curious to see what it would look like  crumpled on the floor of your limo. My name is Kenneth, in case you  don't remember …  I'm sure you'll be screaming that out later."

Michael is licking his lips, and I don't mean that figuratively. He's  really fucking licking his lips. He responds with a hungry smile,  whispers something into the waiter's ear, which elicits another smile,  and then he walks over to Jocelyn and I.

"You two go ahead and ride in the next limo together," he says, only  giving us a cursory glance. "I'll go ahead and catch the one right  after."

We nod, but don't respond. I mean, what's there to say? We all know what  he means by that, but Jocelyn and I do as he says and proceed like  nothing is amiss.

A limo pulls up within minutes. I open the door and usher her in first.  She steps in, one slender, heeled foot after the other. She hasn't said a  word for a while, and instead keeps looking off into the distance as if  she's deep in thought, but as soon as the door closes, I watch her push  up the divider that separates us from the driver. As soon as she does  this, my heart begins to hammer in my chest. What's she doing?

I don't know what to say, and I honestly can't keep my eyes off of  her-her perfect breasts cupped in a sexy back dress that hugs her like a  second skin, and her legs that beg me to run my hands between them.  Fuck, my cock is twitching just looking at her. It has a mind of it own.  And then she does the unexpected; she sits right next to me, and  carefully places her hand on my thigh. He right breast is nestled  against my arm, and I can feel her warmth and smell her perfume-a  delicate rose fragrance that only heightens her femininity. My entire  body is buzzing with anticipation.

With her hand moving between the tender insides of my thighs she  whispers, "Forget what I said earlier. I don't think we should take a  break at all."





38





Jocelyn





I can't believe that after a speech like that Michael would take the  limo with that staffer of his. Family values, yeah, right; they only  seem to matter when they benefit his career. But why am I surprised?  Lance was right. Michael is gay, and I'm nothing but a pawn to him …

Why should I restrain myself when Michael doesn't? If he can do whatever  he wants, so can I. And that means, of course, Lance. What else? Even  after telling him all about the reasons we couldn't possibly be  together, I still crave him. How could I not? After our first time  together, I can barely think of anything else.

Closing the divider between the driver, and us I move closer to him in  the seat, my eyes on his. I can see it all there-desire, hunger, lust.  Everything that my husband denies me, his son has in excess.

I'm breathing hard already, my cheeks flushing as I realize that I won't  be able to control myself. Reaching for him, I lay my hand on top of  his and squeeze his fingers gently. We're sitting side by side, looking  at our reflection in the mirror that faces us.

"Take me," I whisper, turning into him and looking him in the eye;  Lance's lips curl upward into a slight grin and I don't need to explain  myself further. He leans into me; electricity pulsing between our lips  when they press together. Both his hands are on my face, his lips  brushing against me softly. "I want you to have me," I pull back,  looking into his eyes. There's a mischievous expression on his face, one  that tells me he already knew I wouldn't be able to resist him.

"If that's what you want," he smiles then, his hands going to my lower  back as his mouth presses against mine once more. I grab his jacket and,  with all the patience in the world, take it off of him; my fingers then  go to his collar and I start unbuttoning his shirt, anticipating how it  will feel to brush my fingers over the smooth skin of his chest.

"It's what I need," I tell him as I come up for air. Sliding his hand  under the opening in my dress, he rests the tip of his fingers over the  dimples in my lower back, in that narrow patch of naked skin just before  my thong. A shiver goes up my spine at his touch, my mind burning as I  succumb to desire. So what if it's wrong? What if it's scandalous?  Sometimes we all need a bit of scandal in our lives. Particularly if it  involves someone as young and handsome as Lance.

His fingers go around my hips and he rests them over my waist, tracing  the contour of my thong as he goes. My heart is already beating fast,  and it's not because of lust and desire. Sure, there's that too, but  somehow it's different now. It's something more powerful, more …  wickedly  sinful. As we touch, the alchemy of our bodies turns wrong into right,  forbidden into mandatory.

I finish unbuttoning his shirt and brush my fingers over the hard lines  of his abs, tracing their contour as if I'm taking measures. I let my  hands climb up to his chest and then they go to his neck; his own hands  go up my side and, grabbing my face gently, he parts his lips and slowly  brushes his tongue against mine.

How is it even possible to crave someone so much?

His hands go up my body, settling on my shoulders as he hooks his  fingers on the straps of my dress. He pulls them down my arms, the front  of the dress drooping over my breasts and baring my bra.

He looks at me, licking his lips unconsciously as he looks at my almost  naked chest, and then pulls me back into him once more. My naked skin  brushes against his, and I can feel it prickling, goose bumps all over  me. Trapped in his embrace, I feel his fingers on my back as he unhooks  the velvety bra I still have on. I let it slide down my arms, my hard  nipples sending a ripple of electricity down my torso as the cool air of  the room laps at them.

I sit still, letting Lance take a good hard look at me. He isn't smiling  or grinning; he just sits there, by my side, looking at my body as if  I'm the last woman on earth.

"You can't imagine how much I want you. How much I need to feel my cock  inside of you," he says as I grab at his shirt and take it off his body,  running the open palm of my hands down his arms. I smile at him, and  without taking my eyes off of his, I let my fingers trace a slow and  tortuous line over his chest and abs, and then down to his belt. Hooking  my fingers around it, I pull Lance into me, our foreheads resting  against each other. I reach for him with my mouth and tenderly bite his  lower lips.

"I can imagine it," I say, "I need it as much as you."

His hands go down over the curve of my backside and he grabs me there,  our bodies pressing against each other. With my naked breasts against  his chest, I swear I can almost feel his heart drumming away.

I unbuckle his pants and then I pull the belt out from its loops. My  heart's louder now, almost racing. As softly as I can, I brush the tip  of my fingers over his crotch, feeling the shape of his erection  straining against his pants. To feel his desire for me is almost  magical.

Taking my time, I unbutton his pants, his length pressing against the  back of my hands as I do it. My body is already aching to have him in  me; but why rush? I want to take my time. I deserve this.

His pants unbuttoned, I brush my fingertip from the base of his cock to  his tip, over the smooth fabric of his boxer briefs. He's pulsing with  desire, but he has no other choice but to let me take the lead, allowing  me to drive him insane before he finally snaps.

I keep on brushing against his cock just like this, the tip of my finger  going up and down, up and down in an endless loop. I look at him and  he's gritting his teeth, hunger flashing behind his eyes. He's under my  spell... as much as I'm under his.

I grab the hem of his boxers, and careful not to touch his cock, I lower  them. His massive erection springs free, pointing up and straight at me  as if accusing me of tortuous teasing. Just like I love it.