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Taken By The Billionaire(5)

By:Renee White




The atmosphere between us crackled, charged with the insinuation in my question; I knew Kylie felt the same spark when I saw her eyelids flicker for a moment, and although she masked her emotions quickly, lifting the wine glass to her lips and sipping at the expensive red wine I’d chosen, I saw her hand trembling.



“I … I couldn’t do that, Mister Taylor,” she replied, her eyes sliding from my stare.



“Really?” I murmured, and casually laid my hand on the table within an inch of her fingers.



Kylie flinched and stared at the back of my hand like it was some kind of predator about to attack her tender flesh. I saw the vein in the girl’s throat throb with life, and I felt the elemental urge of lust for her I’d experienced in my office while I imagined pressing my lips against that flutter in Kylie’s neck. I also noticed that although she’d flinched she let her hand remain near mine.



Kylie looked into my face, her eyes searching. “I don’t know you, Mister Taylor,” she whispered. “And, after Rafe—”



“—Rafe is an idiot for falling for Jenny’s crap,” I interjected forcefully. “I can tell you now, Kylie, whatever happens, that bloke will regret losing you. I can see you’re special.”



Kylie, as I’d noticed in my office, could switch personalities in a heartbeat, shifting from modest and almost shy to near belligerence quickly. “You’re just saying that so I’ll sleep with you,” she accused acidly, lifting the glass from the table and taking a sip.



“Maybe, maybe not,” I replied, looking directly at her. “But I wouldn’t mess you around. I know how you feel, Kylie. I’ve had a few romantic knocks in my time. I lost a woman once,” I confessed, my voice appropriately sombre. “Not my wife, Marianne, I don’t mean that cheating bitch, I mean someone else from way back, and I’ll regret how I treated her for the rest of my life. I was an arsehole and deserved everything I got.”



“I want to know more about that story sometime later. How did you know I’d like this wine?” Kylie asked, wrong-footing me yet again.



Irritation at Kylie’s apparent indifference at my deeply personal revelation soured my mood, and

I shrugged and lifted my hand from the table as I leaned back in the chair to sip my own wine.



“I didn’t know you’d like it, Kylie. I chose it because I like it.”



“You’re pretty damned confident, aren’t you Mister Taylor, to just assume like that.”



“Don’t you like a confident man, Kylie?” I countered, and leaned in suddenly to bring my face a few inches from hers. With resentment still curdling my guts I spat the words, “I’m confident enough to knock back your sister if she came on to me. I wouldn’t cheat on you like that arsehole, Rafe – what kind of name is that for a man, anyway?”



Our gazes locked, and for a moment I thought I’d gone too far. She might hate the man’s guts but she probably still loved him, which would only make the pain worse. A tiny muscle worked in Kylie’s jaw, and I saw she had half a mind to slap my face. A smack across the chops would have been worth it to see that level of passion blazing in her eyes.



We were close enough to kiss, and maybe I should have kissed her then, just taken hold of her face with both hands and done it.



All the while our eyes fought their battle, long seconds ticking by, neither one of us willing to back down. I imagined the taste of her mouth; I could see myself kissing the pale lip-gloss from those glistening lips.



In the end it was Kylie who succumbed, blinking and looking away.



And at that moment I desired her as much as I’d ever wanted Stella.



I want your body; I want your mind; I will have you, Kylie Clark.



With Kylie’s intense gaze broken I slumped back and plucked the wine glass from the table. Draining it in one gulp to calm my trembling hands I scanned the restaurant. My belligerent stare caused other diners to look quickly away. Hell, I wanted to push the cutlery and crockery off the table, to sweep it clean so I could lay her across it and take her right there and then regardless of the gawking onlookers.



In my head I pictured Kylie exposed to me, her body pouting, slick with her arousal as she stared at the length of me ardent with yearning. Gripping myself with one hand I aimed at her opening and thrust into her. Kylie’s body clenched around my girth as she cried out, gasping when her spongy softness opened to accommodate me.



As I imagined the scene I saw myself reach for her hair and, with just enough force to make her gasp, I twisted a fist through it and pulled her towards my face.