Page 94 of The Thing About My Secret Billionaire

“What do you need?”

He beckons me closer.

I take a step toward him, my eyes drifting just a tiny bit lower to his strong neck and broad shoulders.

“What is it?” I ask, glancing at the sink to see if he left his razor or something there.

“Come here.” He slides the door open.

Half a step more and, quick as lightning, he reaches out, grabs my arms and pulls me in with him.

I squeal as the water hits me and instantly drenches my shirt and pants.

“What are you doing?” I cry into Miller’s grinning face.

“The thing I forgot to bring into the shower isyou.”

He pushes back the hair that immediately plastered my face and drops his mouth to mine.

There’s no point fighting it. I’m already in the shower, my clothes are already soaked, my body is already lost to him, and my mind is right behind it.

The warm water trickles into my mouth as our lips part and tongues find each other. He holds my face with both hands, firm enough to show how much he wants me, but not so tight that I couldn’t escape if I wanted to.

I have never wanted to escape anything less. I let my fingers glide over his chest, sensing the rise and fall of every muscle, then down his sides, across his abs and lower to his rock-hard erection.

Miller gasps into my mouth when I touch him.

“I missed you.” His hands move to the buttons on my shirt, undoing them as he sucks on my lips and I wrap my fingers around his shaft.

“I missed you too,” I say as he rocks back and forth into my fist.

And I did. I missed him as soon as my taxi drove off the property. I missed him as I sat alone at the airport. I missed him when I got to my apartment and it felt like it belonged to someone else. When I was in the bar with Paige, I wished he was there for me to introduce to her. And when my flight was pushed back because of the storm, my only frustration was that it delayed me being back in the same room as Miller.

Then he’s peeling my shirt off my shoulders,tossing it onto the floor of the shower, unhooking my bra and discarding that too.

“I hated not being around you,” he says, his mouth following the pattern of the water and landing between my breasts.

When his tongue finds my nipple, my head drops forward on a gasp, my body curves around him, my fingers tighten on his twitching erection, sparks shoot to my chest, my belly, the tips of my fingers and toes.

He slides himself out of my grip and tries to undo my pants.

“Fuck,” he says with the frustration of someone trying to batter down a brick wall with his bare hands.

The thick fabric is so wet, he’s struggling.

“Let me.” I make quick work of the button, then unzip and kick my pants off.

Pausing only to peel off my unattractive black socks, my hands are on him again, sliding around his waist and down over the curve of his sumptuous firm, round ass. He grabs my butt too and yanks me tightly to him, crushing his proud dick between us as he kisses me again, deeper, harder.

Our wet bodies slide against each other, setting my skin alive, my clit throbbing.

“Just one thing left between us,” he whispers against my ear as the water rolls over us.

And his hands slide into the sides of my thong panties, slipping them down my wet thighs. I shimmy them lower and tug them off the rest of the way with my feet.

The second they’re gone, Miller spins me around, pressing my back to his chest, his mouth to my neck, left hand massaging my breast, right hand slipping over mybelly, making my clit ache with anticipation that he’s on his way to touch it.

“This is unbearable.” My head drops back against his shoulder.