The Billionaire’s Secret Wife(31)
She just needed to find a good approach.
Chapter Ten
Vanessa had stayed behind at her mother’s place to help clean up, and Justin slipped into her condo with the spare key she’d given him on the flight from Canada. The party had gone spectacularly well, with Ceinlys clearly asserting herself as a soon-to-be-single woman.
Vanessa’s condo surprised him. He’d always assumed she’d buy something as swanky as the penthouses her brothers owned. Vanessa’s place was upper-middle class, something a successful law associate might buy, but not what one would expect from an heiress. It didn’t even come with a doorman.
A few pots and pans sat in the kitchen along with a set of plates and bowls. It was obvious she’d barely used any of them. The fridge held a few essentials—cream for her coffee and some fruit and yogurt. Justin shook his head. Vanessa needed to eat better.
Her bedroom was simple, with a king-sized bed and pink sheets with small yellow roses and blue hyacinth patterns. Her walk-in closet was full of shoes and clothes without any room for his stuff. He shrugged. She hadn’t known he’d be living with her when she’d left the day before.
He showered and changed into a Stanford T-shirt and shorts. It was quite warm in L.A. He’d gone straight to Ceinlys’s party after doing some supposedly urgent work. Every time somebody wanted his attention, they threw around the “emergency” label. He made a mental note to shake things up at the office. He wasn’t going to babysit his executives, no matter how nervous they were about his replacing Barron. They needed to understand Barron wasn’t in charge anymore, and their aim should be to make him happy, not his great-uncle.
He sat and reviewed a few items in his inbox. A few minutes later, keys jangled and the door opened and shut. “So you got here okay.” Vanessa kicked off her shoes.
“Yup.”
She scowled at his phone. “Who are you texting?”
“Just some emails.”
Her eyes narrowed. He didn’t buy her complaint about how she hadn’t liked his shirt, and whatever had been bugging her was still there. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Vanessa, it’s going to be difficult to be happily married if we aren’t honest with each other. I’m trying very hard to be a good husband.”
She regarded him. Finally she said, “I don’t like blondes.”
The pieces fell into place, and he gaped at her. “You’re jealous?”
Red flushed her cheeks as her mouth turned flatter than a hyphen. Finally she snapped, “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“You are!” Absurdly enough he liked her jealous. It meant she felt possessive about him. “You shouldn’t have worried.”
“Why not?”
“Because no other woman has my wedding band in her jewelry box.” He rose and wrapped his arms around her. “You’re the first and only.”
“Hmph. I hate blondes anyway.”
She pulled him down for a hot, carnal kiss. Her mouth attacked his aggressively, and he responded in kind.
Suddenly she broke away. “Take off your clothes.”
He pulled the T-shirt over his head and tossed it behind him. His shorts went two seconds later.
“You aren’t wearing any underwear.” Her pupils darkened as she took him in.
“Saw no reason to.”
“Good.” She licked her lips.
Justin turned her around and unzipped her dress. The pale violet chiffon pooled at her feet. She was in nothing but a thong, garter belt and a pair of lace-edged stockings that ended at mid-thigh. He cursed as his cock grew so hard it almost hurt. “Is that how you dress on weekends?”
“Depending on what I’m planning.” She walked toward him until her bare breasts pressed against his torso. “Right now I want to show you I have more than just your ring.” She reached between their bodies and wrapped her hand around his throbbing shaft. He hissed—it felt too damn good, and she hadn’t done anything except kiss him and put her hand there.
She rubbed herself against him, her pointed nipples raking his chest. Her cheeks were flushed, and she licked her mouth again.
He crushed her to him and kissed her—almost too roughly, for teasing him and doubting him. Unlike some men, he took his wedding vows seriously. He cupped her ass and squeezed the firm flesh. She gasped, and he stabbed his tongue deep into her mouth, invading her and letting her know who was in charge.
She rocked against him, her hand moving over his cock. His pelvis pumped, and he stopped. “Let go.”
“No,” she whispered.
“We’re not doing this in your living room.”