His Greed (Billionaire Blind Date Book 1) (3 page)

I closed my lips around his fingers and sucked, tasting the slight, pleasant tang of my own juices. He pulled the fingers out and pushed them in again, so I hollowed my cheeks and sucked, wrapping my tongue around them. I had more experience with that than with actual sex, and it must have shown. Grant groaned and pulled his fingers out with a pop.

He pressed against me and kissed me, his tongue pushing into my mouth, tasting all of me in one kiss. Another rush of wetness seemed forced out of me. This man had just made me come harder than I’d thought possible.

Something buzzed against my hip—Grant’s phone in his pocket. He nipped at my lower lip before leaning back and answering it. “What?” he barked. But then he listened and leaned back against the seat, asking some questions like
who’ll be with him
and
now
?

Grant pressed his hand onto his groin and hissed, closing his eyes. He mumbled a few more things into the phone before he slipped it back into his pocket. His thumb found my nipple and pressed it back and forth.

“I’ll take you to the wedding, Sophie. We’ll show up in a limo, dressed better than the bride and groom, and your family members can stew in their own envy. If you’ll agree to help me over the next couple of weeks. Do a few things for me to help me in business matters.” Grant began pulling my dress up over my breasts, zipping the back.

“I—I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes.”

“Yes.” I realized I hadn’t even asked what “things” he wanted me to do.

Grant hooked his fingers into my panties and pulled, sliding the wet slip of fabric down my thighs. “There are handkerchiefs in that side panel next to you. You might want to clean up a little.”

I popped the compartment open and used a handkerchief to wipe myself and my inner thighs as gingerly as I could sitting hip to hip with Grant, who was busy texting someone.

“What kinds of things do you want me to do?”

“Whatever I ask you to, Sophie.”

I folded the soiled handkerchief, but Grant took it from me, opened another panel and tossed it in.

“Whatever you ask . . . within reason?”

Grant turned to me as if he’d just remembered I was there and stared for a moment. My stomach somersaulted at his half-smile.

“Of course.” He focused on his phone again.

I pulled my dress down and smoothed it into place over my breasts. The man Grant had told me to stare at while I sucked his fingers faced the limo now, hands in his pockets, as he talked to another man who stood off to his left side. The man’s eyes seemed to stare right through the tinting at my face—I could have sworn he saw me, imagined he leered at me, knowing what I’d done.

“Change of plans. Lawrence is on his way back now, he’ll take us to Freisa for dinner where we’ll be joined by someone whose company I want to buy. He doesn’t trust single people, so you’ll pretend to be my fiancé.”

Is that what he thought was a reasonable request?

“Grant, I’m not comfortable lying. Can’t I just be your date?’

“Who said you had to lie? And no, he needs to think I’m on my way to the altar with a grounded, respectable woman.”

“How can I pretend to be your fiancé without lying?”

Grant leaned back and crossed his legs, his little smirk charming me far too much. “The same way I pretended to be your blind date?” He rubbed his thumb over my nipple through the fabric of my dress, making me gasp. “I never lie, Sophie. You shouldn’t either. Just let them make assumptions and answer questions . . . creatively.”

A little line of fire spread from my nipple right down to my thighs as he kept rubbing the pad of his thumb back and forth.

“So you don’t outright lie—fine. But why do you seem to love tricking people?”

Grant leaned close, our mouths almost touching. “It makes my cock hard. Isn’t that reason enough.”

He lightly pinched my tender nipple before pulling his hand away and examining his phone once again.

She was right—I loved fooling people. But nothing had ever made my cock as hard as the voluptuous beauty sitting next to me, her pussy slick from the pleasure I’d given her, nipples pebbled and eager to be sucked and toyed with even more.

I’d have had her right there in the seat if one of my staff hadn’t called, practically pissing himself that Aten Hollis was willing to meet with me tonight. I wanted the export arm of one of Hollis’ companies, but he was conservative. Unmarried men, especially ones he deemed players, weren’t trustworthy business associates.

I can overcome any reasonable barrier to business negotiations—terms can always be reached. But when they’re unwilling to talk to me over concerns about my lifestyle, all there is to do is change my lifestyle. Or appear to have done so.

With beautiful Sophie on my arm, that barrier was destroyed, clearing the way to a successful deal.

I glanced her up and down. She’d cleaned and straightened herself, and easily looked as tidy as she had when she’d gotten into the limo. Her hair was a little mussed in the back, but it looked no more than slightly windblown, as was fashionable. 

Her tits, though. I’d have liked to leave her dress down on the drive, just so I could look at them and touch them without it in the way. That day would come if I wanted it to, the day when she’d give in to any whim, bare herself at my command, just to please me.

I pinched through the fabric of her dress, held her taut nipple between thumb and forefinger to see her reaction to being touched again. Sophie was so responsive that the slightest brush of a finger over the tight little bud showed in the muscles of her face and neck.

That responsiveness alone was enough to make me want her. Add that to how perfect her curvy body was, how her thighs would look and feel wrapped around me, and doing anything but fucking her then and there was a challenge.

With a squeeze, I let go of her tit. I smiled at her, wondering if she had any idea what the rest of the evening held for her. Or the next two weeks.

I could have taken her hand and put it on my cock, had her jerk me off on the drive so I wouldn’t have to fight with my nature to make my erection fade. That would have been the easiest way to be ready for the dinner meeting with Hollis.

But I always have liked a challenge.

Grant’s fingers toyed with my nipple through my dress, and with a final pinch, he put his hand back on his lap. His half-smile did things to my insides. Then he looked ahead and seemed lost in thought, so I did my best to compose myself before we got to the new restaurant.

I wasn’t sure if I could pull off pretending to be his fiancé, but despite my resistance to lying, I found myself willing to try. What was the harm? It helped him out, and he was helping me by taking me to my cousin’s wedding.

Who was I kidding? He was doing me the kind of favor I couldn’t repay, taking me in a limo. Just being seen with me to start with. And he’d just given me the most intense orgasm of my life.

Surely I could play along. Or try. I pulled my compact from my small, black handbag to see if I needed to adjust my makeup. I reapplied a little lipstick and powder. Grant glanced at me, but kept his eyes forward for most of the drive.

When we stopped and the driver opened the door, Grant slid out and took my hand to help me from the car. And then he held that hand as we walked to the restaurant. He handed me his cell phone.

“Text your phone with mine. I want your number.” His voice wasn’t soft or harsh. He could have been asking about the weather. “And I need to know your last name.”

I texted my phone from his, and my phone buzzed in my handbag. “Falcon.” I’d just been fingered in a limo by a man who didn’t know my last name.

And I didn’t know his.

“Turn up the sound if you won’t notice that buzzing in a busy restaurant,” was all he said as we walked in and were seated. The server went to the bar and came back with a tall, heavyset man in a shiny, blue, 3-piece suit. His tie was also blue, which struck me as too much of a good thing.

“Michaelson.” He held his hand out for Grant to shake before he sat down. “So glad you could make it.”

The man’s gaze turned to me. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.”

Grant lifted my hand and kissed it. “This is Sophie. Sophie Falcon. Sophie, this is Aten Hollis, the man who’s going to sell me his exporting business.”

Hollis laughed. “The man who’s going to
discuss
selling you his exporting business. But I like that confidence.” He sat and nodded at the server who provided us with menus.

Grant glanced at his menu, put it down and looked at me. “I already know what I want. How about you, sweetheart? What do you want?” he asked in a husky voice, clearly not talking about the food.

“I—I’m not sure.”

“The chicken alfredo here is fantastic, if you need a recommendation,” Hollis offered.

“Yes, I’ll have that,” I said, since all my blood rushed south, leaving my brain defenseless while Grant kept staring at me, his dark eyes intense and relentless.

“So,” Hollis said, putting his own menu on the pile. “How did you two meet?” he asked me.

Grant raised an eyebrow, waiting.

Don’t lie.
I cleared my throat. “On a blind date, actually.”

“A blind date?” Hollis laughed. “Why would either of you need to do such a thing?”

“I needed a date for a family wedding.” I looked at Grant, putting the ball firmly back in his court.

“And I heard her talked up so much, curiosity got the best of me. It was a good decision.” His thumb stroked the back of my hand.

Hollis grunted, nodding. “But you’re already engaged? How long ago did you meet?”

“Not long,” I said. “It’s been a whirlwind romance.” I turned to Hollis and gave him a genuine smile. “Grant swept me off my feet. I couldn’t say no.” I was doing it, and despite myself, I did feel a little thrill. Especially since the look of approval in Grant’s eyes was like a warm caress on my skin.

“Marriage is such a commitment. Sometimes rushing into things can be exciting, but . . .” Hollis stared at his water glass, and I imagined he was thinking of his own marriage. Marriages? Divorces? I had no idea, but he looked sad.

“We haven’t gotten a ring yet,” Grant said, also facing Hollis. “But the moment she walked into the restaurant, I knew I had to pull out all the stops.”

Grant’s gaze fell on me again as he stroked my cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Look at her. Who could blame me? I couldn’t stand the thought of any other man stepping in before I had a chance.”

I scoffed but couldn’t stop smiling. This was ridiculous, but hearing the words made it feel almost real.

“I love it when she blushes like that,” Grant said, and then leaned over to kiss my cheek.

“You two are adorable.” Hollis took a sip of water. “What do you do, Sophie?”

“I’m an artist. I specialize in commercial art.”

“Oh, an artist.” He sounded impressed. “I have a department in desperate need for a revamped logo. Would that be something you’re interested in?”

I looked to Grant, not sure what I should say or do. Could I say yes? How would that affect anything? He gave a tiny nod.

“I can send a resume with samples if you’d like to see my work.”

“Excellent. You don’t happen to paint portraits, do you? My son’s mother is looking for someone.”

Not married, at least not to that woman, then. “I do paint, but portraits aren’t really my specialty. I’m sure I can recommend someone, though.”

“You paint, then. Interesting. Artists have interesting souls.” He winked at Grant. “You’ve doubtless seen her work. She any good? I’d take your recommendation over samples and resumes.” He smiled at me, as if he hadn’t just asked a man whether I was worth hiring with me sitting right there.

Grant kissed my hand again, his eyes sparkling. “I’ll have to confess, I don’t know much about art, but yes—she is remarkable.”

He was so smooth, so slick, never actually answering the question, never quite lying, never quite being truthful.

The server came and took our order, and Grant and Hollis started talking about the exporting business. I listened attentively in case anyone asked me a question, but Grant’s thumb stroking my hand, and then our joined hands resting high on my thigh, made it hard to concentrate.

As we ate, they chatted about business and other things I didn’t know much about. Grant smiled at me frequently, used an index finger to slide my hair back. He touched me every few minutes, it seemed, never letting me forget that he was right there, warm and enticing and confident.

I sipped the pinot grigio Grant had ordered again for me, but mostly drank the water. I didn’t want to get tipsy.

We were nearly done eating when Aten said, “We should toast your engagement, since this is the first I’m hearing of it. Any excuse for a toast.” He grinned, his slightly crooked white teeth gleaming in the low light of the restaurant, and held up his glass.

“When is the wedding?” he asked, before launching into his toast.

“We haven’t set a date.” Grant drank red wine like Aten, and swirled it in his glass. “We’ve been too caught up in just being together since we met, we’ve barely had time to think about anything else.”

“To your bright future,” Aten said, beaming. We clinked glasses and drank.

Aten’s phone buzzed, and he frowned at the screen before shaking his head. “If you’ll excuse me for just a moment.” He walked away to take his call.

“You need a pendant,” Grant said.

“What?”

He touched the base of my throat with a fingertip and dragged it down to my cleavage. “A long, chunky pendant to hang between those perfect tits,” he breathed.

I hadn’t worn any jewelry on my date, mostly because I’d forgotten. I don’t often wear it when I’m working, especially if I’m working in mixed media, and sometimes forget to put it on when I go out. I had a black onyx teardrop pendant I’d thought about wearing with the dress, but had been in a hurry and forgotten.

“Men’s eyes are already drawn there, but the right pendant would be stunning. Wear one next time we go out.”

He sipped his wine, leaving a trail of fire on my skin where he’d touched me. I should have revolted against being told what to wear, but something inside me liked it. Then Grant busied himself with his phone, sending texts rapid-fire.

Hollis returned, and I thought the evening was nearly over when Aten put his knife and fork on top of his plate and pushed it away. But he wiped his mouth with the napkin, leaned back and said, “Sophie, tell me what drew you to Grant. Aside from the obvious things, like that he’s handsome, wealthy. I want to get deeper than that, and I trust a woman’s judgement of character over most anything else. What about Grant makes you want to be with him?”

I opened my mouth, wondering if I could pretend illness to get out of there.