The Billionaire's Favourite Mistake(21)

"And you expect me to know of one?" She teased, but oh gosh, she had a  dozen. When Harry Met Sally, Dirty Dancing, Romeo and Juliet, Love  Actually, Pretty Woman . . .

"You're the romantic."

She was. "How about Ghost? Have you seen that one?"

He typed in the letters and then pulled it up on the rental screen. "With Patrick Swayze?"

"That's the one."

"Haven't seen it." He clicked the button and returned to the couch. "Rented it, though."

To give the man credit, he didn't mock her for her choice in movies. He  must have remembered that she was a hopeless romantic, though she did  her best to keep it a secret.

"You want a snack or a drink? I think the fridge has some cookies and bottled water, or we can order something."

"Cookies and bottled water is fine," she said, giving him a grateful  smile. Tonight had turned out to be a lot less painful than she'd  envisioned. She'd been imagining letting him maul her for hours on end  and in actuality, they'd talked and now were going to watch a movie. No  kissing.

She was oddly relieved and yet strangely disappointed at the same time.

He returned with an enormous oversized cookie for her and a bottle of  water, and then sat down in the center of the sofa. Instead of giving  her space, he put his arms around her and hauled her against him, as if  it were a date and they were snuggling.

And she was going to protest, but his body was warm and she was sleepy  and the movie was starting. So she ate her cookie, drank some water, and  let the story carry her away.

Greer was almost nodding off into sleep-more tired than she'd  expected-when a soft brush of something against the back of her hand  woke her up. She opened her eyes sleepily and realized that Asher had  her hand in his, and he was gently kissing the back of her hand.

"Wha . . . what are you doing?"

"Just practicing. Your sheets said I should practice on my hand." His  lips brushed against the back of her hand again and goose bumps prickled  over her body. Her nipples were hard and aching, and terrible,  distracting urges were moving through her.

"You're supposed to practice on your own hand," she whispered, watching  breathlessly as he moved his mouth in a kiss against her hand again.  Goodness, she should not be that turned on by watching a man  pretend-kiss her hand.

He glanced down at her, a roguish look on his face. "I like yours better. You don't mind, do you?"

Did she mind? God, no. She watched him press another sultry kiss to the  back of her hand and her entire body prickled with awareness again. It  had to be the pregnancy hormones that were making her that aroused. Had  to be.

"Watch the movie," he told her, and then brushed his lips against her hand again. "I'm getting some great pointers."         

     



 

He expected her to concentrate on the movie when he was making out with  her hand? She turned back to the screen and settled in against him  again, trying to ignore the fact that her nipples-and her sex-responded  each time he pressed a kiss against her skin. And when he stopped?

That bothered her almost as much.

***

A weird sort of possessive pleasure took over Asher as Greer drifted  off to sleep against him again. He gently lay her hand down and let the  droning of the movie lull her deeper into sleep, though he hadn't been  paying a bit of attention to it. He'd just wanted to distract her, to  get her to relax.

It had worked, too. She'd entered his hotel room looking as if she were  about to go into a war zone. Now? She was curled up peacefully against  him, sleeping, her hand still twined with his. Having her there against  him gave him a fierce sort of satisfaction. Like she'd finally found the  spot where she belonged. He wanted to reach out and touch the fine  lines of her sleeping face, but her words about exhaustion made him hold  back.

He'd be content just to have her rest against him. He didn't need more than that.

Well, his cock did. It ached and strained in his pants, insistent that  he should claim Greer as his own. Asher ignored it, though. He knew that  if he had a shot in hell of winning Greer back over, he'd have to go  slowly and give her control.

He could be patient. It might take every ounce of his self-control, but he'd do it.

***

The next night, Greer seemed less edgy when she arrived at his hotel  room. Her hair was pulled back into a fat knot at the base of her neck,  and it made her glasses seem huge on her pointed face. She wore a plain  red blouse with short sleeves and a high neck, and a pair of skinny  jeans and her favorite flats. He loved that she didn't care how short it  made her look-it was clear that she dressed for her own pleasure and  not for his. Something about that confidence just made him that much  crazier for her.

"You look great today," he told her. She really did. That red made her  lips look like cherries ready to be tasted, and when she moved, he could  see her breasts sway under the thin fabric. So, yeah, he was digging  it.

She waved a hand at him, dismissing his compliment. "You don't have to  suck up to me. I'm stuck here whether I want to be here or not."

Ego on the floor once more. Chuckling, Asher shut the door behind her.

"Did you read the notes I printed for you?" she asked, setting her purse down and moving into the living room.

"I studied them all last night," he told her. He might have also jerked  off while imagining Greer's mouth moving over his cock, but he was a  guy, not a saint.

"Great! So then if you've got them down, this shouldn't be too  onerous." She actually looked pleased. "Maybe we can get this done  quickly and I can go back to the castle. I've still got several calls I  need to make."

Get it over with quickly? Over his dead body. "Don't get too carried  away. Like I said, I'm probably going to need a fair amount of  practice."

"Yes, but you've been educating yourself. That should go a long way."  She looked entirely too pleased as she gestured to the couch. "Should I  sit again?"

"Please do."

She moved to the couch and sat delicately on the edge, then crossed her  feet and clasped her hands and looked expectantly at him.

The urge to push her down on the couch and cover her body with his was  nearly overwhelming. Down, boy. "You should take off your glasses so we  don't smudge them." Because I fully intend on kissing that patient look  off your face. That, and I don't want you to notice the massive hard-on  I'm sporting simply by being in your presence.

"Good idea." She folded her glasses and set them on the end table as he  took the opportunity to move next to her. When she squinted at him, he  wanted to grin. Why was it adorable that she was as blind as a bat?

"You ready?" he asked.

"Lay one on me," she said cheerfully. And then she braced herself.         

     



 

The woman really did clobber his ego every chance she got. Time to show  her that he wasn't as incompetent as she assumed. He put his hands on  her waist and pulled her closer. She stiffened, but relaxed when he  didn't attack her. Nor did she position herself as if she was waiting  for his kiss. She just looked up at him, a little impatient.

"I read we should probably both tilt our heads," he told her. "The angle helps things."

"Oh, okay." She tilted her head a little and pushed her chin out toward him. "How's this?"

Damn, she was cute. Asher leaned in and put his fingers to her chin,  coaxing her form to the perfect angle for his mouth. This close, he  loved looking at her. The deep red of her mouth was inviting, her lips  full and lush. Her eyes closed as he approached, and her long lashes  looked like they'd been dusted with dark feathers. How had he never  noticed Greer before? He couldn't stop staring at her now. Hell, he felt  like he could gaze happily for hours at the sharp line of her cheekbone  or the way her face formed a perfect heart when her hair was pulled  back like it was today.

"Are you going to kiss me or do you have buyer's remorse?" she murmured, eyes still closed.

"Just working on my plan of attack," he told her. "Be patient."

One eyebrow raised, and he wanted to kiss it. Actually, that was what  he decided to do. Leaning in, he brushed his lips over her brow in a  gentle kiss.

She jerked backward, her eyes going wide. "What was that?"

"A kiss?"

Greer looked adorably flustered and so confused. "I thought . . . we  were going to practice, you know, on the mouth. That's the part you were  bad at." She was breathing heavy, her breasts rising and falling in  that silky top. Great, now he was imagining her dark nipples again.  Fuuuck.

"I figured I should cover all the bases. You know, all kinds of  kissing." And here you said I wasn't any good at foreplay. How he  managed to keep a straight face, he didn't know. "We've still got three  days left in the week to conquer the rest of kissing."

"Oh." Her voice was soft. "Well, all right." She licked her lips-god, those lips-and then moved closer to him again.