Page 78 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Hunter

The water pours off of her shoulders and slides off of her hips.

She stands there for a second, a cross between a mermaid and Artemis the huntress.

That slip of fabric she’s wearing barely covers her nipples, which are peaked and outlined through the top of her bikini.

Her waist is tiny, her hips wide enough to form that classic hourglass figure that’s driven me crazy since I first laid eyes on her.

Her thighs are thick and strong. My fingers tingle, my palms ache and…

I want to squeeze her flesh and mark her so every time she looks at it, she’ll know who she belongs to.

She covers the short distance between us, then stands in front of me.

I tilt my head back and watch as she reaches over and takes the cigar from my fingers.

She brings it to her lips and closes her mouth around it, and goddam, my cock stands to attention at once.

Who am I kidding? It was already standing at attention, but now it’s…

More so? She draws on the cigar, blows out a puff of smoke.

"You’re playing with fire, Fire," I growl.

"What if it’s because I want to be burned tonight?"

"Do you want to be burned?"

She searches my features. "Only if you burn with me."

I reach up, pluck the cigar from her fingers, and brush mine over hers.

She shivers, and a fierce sensation tightens my chest. Without breaking the connection of our gazes, I place the cigar between my lips.

The taste of her—something spicy and pungent and so fucking familiar—crowds my senses.

I glare at her, but she doesn’t flinch. Fucking hell, I am going to enjoy taming her.

"There is one thing, though," she murmurs.

"Oh?" I move the cigar to the corner of my mouth. "Are we negotiating?"

"Maybe." For the first time, she looks unsure. My heart stutters. Goddamn, what insanity is this that the very thought of her not being at ease is making me want to soothe away her uncertainties?

"What is it?" I snap, my voice coming out harsher than intended.

Her forehead furrows. "It’s only for one night."

"Eh?"

"You. Me. We fuck. But it’s only for tonight. Tomorrow, we go our separate ways."

"Weather permitting." I nod toward the snow that’s begun to come down harder.

"Weather permitting," she agrees.

"And if it’s still snowing tomorrow, the deal continues."

Her eyebrows knit. "I have to get back tomorrow."

"So do I. But if it’s too dangerous to drive..." I raise a shoulder.

"Then I leave when the snow clears, no matter what time it is."

"Only if you let me drive you."

"I have a car—"

"I’ll arrange for it to be dropped back," I retort.

She firms her lips, then nods. "Fine."

I look her up and down. "Of course, you’ll let me do anything I want to you tonight."

She blinks. "What does that mean?"

"You’ll let me do what I want to do to you, when I want to do it to you, and you do everything I tell you to do—"

"Within reason."

"Choose a safe word," I order.

"Excuse me?" She snaps back her shoulders. "I’m not into S this, I promise you."

She scoffs. "Don’t make promises you can’t keep."

"Do we have a deal?"

She narrows her gaze.

"Do you know, when you’re thinking through all the pros and cons, you get a divot in the corner of your lips?"

"I do?" She rubs the left corner of her mouth.

I crook my finger at her. "Come 'ere and I’ll show you."

She leans over slowly, slowly, until her face is just above mine. I reach up and rub my thumb into the other side of her mouth. She swallows but doesn’t move away.

I drag my thumb across her lower lip, and a moan bleeds from her lips.

"Say yes," I murmur.

"And if I don’t?"

"You will."

She shakes her head. "That goddamn cocky attitude of yours. I hope you have the equipment to back it up."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes," she whispers.

"Choose a safe word."

"Do I need to?"

"You agreed, Fire."

She glances into my eyes, then nods.

"Did you settle on a word?"

"Pomegranate."

I tilt my head. "The symbol of fertility and abundance. The seeds that led to Persephone being tied to Hades."

"Didn’t ask for a lesson in mythology," she scoffs.

I lower my hand, then jerk my chin toward her side of the tub. "Go back to your corner."

"Excuse me?" Her jaw drops. And fuck me, but the expression on her face is worth every bit of clash of wills that’s going to follow. I am going to win her over, I have no doubt. And I’m going to make sure she enjoys every second of our time together.

And if she hates me during the process, it’s only going to make our inevitable union so much more satisfying.

"You heard me." I reach for my glass of whiskey and drain it. "Also, I need a drink."

She looks at me blankly, so I repeat myself, enunciating each word, “I. Need. A. Drink.”

She rolls her eyes. "I heard you the first time, wankhole. If you need a drink, you can damn well get it yourself."

I glare at her, and she scowls back at me.

I tilt my head, and she slaps her hands on her hips, which only has the effect of making her breasts, barely covered in that itty-bitty bikini, jiggle.

Her nipples are outlined against the fabric, while droplets of water cling to her chest and in the valley between her tits.

My cock thickens further, and if I glance down, I bet it’s going to be emulating submarine action.

Not that I have anything to hide right now, but I’d prefer to pretend to have the upper hand. For the moment, anyway.

"Fire," I lower my voice to a hush and she swallows.

A shudder grips her and she throws up her hands. "Fine, I’ll do it, and only because I don’t go back on my word."

"I’m counting on it."

She reaches for my glass of whiskey, then turns and steps out of the hot tub.

For a second, she’s poised there with her curvy figure silhouetted against the flickering candlelight.

That arse of hers? Fuck, it’s the most phenomenal, jaw-dropping butt I’ve ever noticed and damn, if I don’t want to sink my teeth into that ripe peach of a behind right now.

"You’re staring," she murmurs without turning around.

"Are you complaining?"

"You’re the one delaying gratification with this stupid exercise in trying to put me in my place."

"It helps to increase erotic arousal, baby."

"Why don’t you admit that you’re doing it to have control over me?"

"Or maybe I’m simply into self-torture."

She pauses, then turns to glance at me over her shoulder. "Are you always this…honest?"

"Did you think I was going to deny the obvious? When it comes to you and me, I aim to give you the truth… Unless there’s a specific reason to hold back something."

She narrows her gaze. "So you’re holding something back from me?"

"The sooner you get the whiskey, the sooner you’ll find out."

"And just when the wordplay between us was heating up," she scoffs.

"Not the only thing that’s heating up, baby."

She lowers her gaze to my crotch, and her gaze widens. Color flushes her cheeks.

I can’t stop the smirk that twists my lips. "Does that answer your earlier question about my endowments?"

"How you use it remains to be seen, Brimstone." She picks up her own glass then flounces off in the direction of the door; but not before infusing an extra twitch into her arse. Heat flushes my skin, and sweat beads my shoulders. At this rate, I’m the one who’ll give in to my needs before I’ve made any headway in getting her to submit.

And no way, am I going to let that happen.

I need her to open herself up to me, to become vulnerable enough to sense what I feel for her.

She disappears through the doorway into the house, only to appear a few seconds later, with both my glass and hers.

She walks down the steps and into the bubbling water, which rises to her waist by the time she reaches me.

She holds out my glass. I take it from her, once more allowing my fingers to brush against hers.

Her breath hitches. The pulse at the base of her throat flutters like the wings of a butterfly.

"You okay, Fire?"

"Why wouldn’t I be?"

I widen the space between my thighs, then jerk my chin toward it.

"You want me to sit…there?"

"You have a problem with that?"

"Of course, not." She turns around, then places her glass on the rim of the tub. Naturally, she has to bend over, which means that magnificent arse of hers is squarely in my face. My fingers itch, my thigh muscles grow rigid, and every brain cell in my head temporarily short circuit. Jesus H. Christ, I’d give anything to bury my teeth in that luscious behind—a reaction she, no doubt, expects me to have; which is why she’s flaunting her asset at me.

But I am not going to give her the satisfaction.

Still, I must have made a noise, for she peers around with a gloating look on her face. "You alright back there?"

A-n-d that’s the last straw. Two can play this game. And I don’t intend to lose. Not this round. I plant my hands on her hips, then lean in and bury my face in her lower cleavage.