Tempting the Billionaire Read online

  “Yessss,” she cried out. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

  He sucked harder. Deeper. Pulling as much of her breast into his mouth as he could.

  Ngozi reached down between them and began to undo his belt with rushed movements.

  Chance stepped up onto the foot rail lining the island to make the job easier for her. And when she pressed her mouth to the hard ridge between his biceps, it was his turn to tremble. She kissed a trail to one hard nipple to circle it with her tongue.

  That move surprised him, and the moan of pleasure he released came from his gut.

  She guided her lips to the other, and this time she sucked that nipple into her mouth before lightly grazing it with her teeth as his loose-fitting pants fell down around his ankles.

  He was so anxious for her that he could hardly think straight. His lengthy manhood was so hard that his loins ached to be surrounded by her, deeply stroking until satisfied. He removed his boxers, freeing his thick curving member. It lay atop the island between her open thighs, the coolness of the marble surprisingly arousing to him.

  “Oh...oh my.” She sighed in pleasure as she looked down at his inches and then up at his eyes.

  “Look,” he said, gesturing downward with his head.

  She did.

  With no hands, he raised it off the cool marble and brought it back down upon it with a light thud.

  Her jaw slowly dropped. “You...uh...you really have great control of that,” she said.

  “Imagine when I use my hips,” he forewarned with a sultry chuckle.

  Ngozi licked her lips and swallowed hard. “Why imagine?” she asked, sliding backward along the smooth marble until she was in the center of it. She lay back, her eyes on him as she slid her pinkies inside the edge of her lace bikini panties and raised her buttocks to ease them down until they lay in a pile by her feet.

  Chance quickly retrieved protection for them from his wallet and sheathed himself with it before he climbed atop the island with her, his erection leading between her open legs. As soon as he lay on top of her, her hands were on his back and then his buttocks, gripping his firm cheeks as he arched his hips and guided his hardness inside her with one firm thrust.

  He looked down into her face as her eyes widened, and she gasped before she released a tiny little wail and arched her back. He could feel her walls throbbing against his hard length. He buried his face against the side of hers as his body went tense. “You’re so tight, Ngozi,” he said near her ear, the strain in his voice clear.

  “I feel you. I... I... I feel it,” she whispered with a breath. “I needed this. I needed this.”

  Her words seemed like a revelation to herself...and they were pure motivation to him.

  Chance was more than ready to give her exactly what she needed.

  He eased his hands beneath her buttocks and raised her hips up a bit as he began to stroke inside her, seeking and finding her mouth to kiss her.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” she panted in between kisses with an urgency.

  He felt her body against him. Wet. Hot. Throbbing. Her moans of passion were a catalyst. Her hands switched between gripping or massaging his back and buttocks, pushing him closer and closer to the edge of his climax. But he was not ready for the ride to end, and so he would pause in his strokes many times as it eased.

  “We’re moving,” she said.

  He raised his head from where he was biting down on her shoulder and saw that each of his thrusts had propelled their bodies down the length of the slippery island. A few more inches and her head would be over the side. He looked down at her, and they shared a smile. “I want to make you come, not give you a concussion.”

  Her eyes warmed over before she lifted her head and licked hotly at his mouth as she raised her arms high above her head and gripped the edge of the island tightly. The move caused her breasts to spread and her nipples to point to the ceiling, drawing his eyes. He shifted his body to pull one and then the other with his mouth.

  “Mmm,” she moaned, arching her back again.

  He looked up at her. “Still want it?” he asked, his voice deep.

  She matched his look with dazed eyes. “Still need it,” she stressed, working her hips so that her core glided down the length of his hardness.

  Chance crushed his mouth down upon hers as he drove his maleness in to fill her again and again and again. His pace quickened. His erection hardened. His thrusts deepened.

  Her cries of wild abandon fueled him.

  The sight of her breasts lunging back and forth with each hard thrust or circular motion of his hips excited him.

  And the feel of her walls tightening down on him with white-hot spasms of her own release pushed him over the edge. He willingly fell into the abyss, tumbling into pleasure and excitement that blinded him to everything but the feel of her body and the look of surprise and rapture on her face.

  And when he saw that tears filled her eyes as she trembled, he kissed them away and held her tightly, turning them over so that her body was now atop his and her head was nuzzled against his chest. He could feel her heart pounding as hard and as fast as his own. He looked up to the towering custom coffered ceiling as he waited for his equilibrium to return.

  “I... I...have to go.”

  Chance jerked his head up as Ngozi rushed to rise, standing up on the island and then stepping over his legs to climb down off it. Not even the delectable sight of her bare bottom could distract him from the sudden shift in mood. “Hey, Ngozi, what’s wrong?” he asked, quickly jumping down to grab a wad of paper towels from the countertop holder.

  She jerked her strapless bra up over her breasts and fixed her dress so that she wore it properly but leaving the back unzipped. “This was a mistake,” she said.

  Oh hell.

  He removed his condom inside the towels as he watched her frantically gather her discarded panties into a wad in her hand. “Ngozi,” he said again, reaching for her arm as she struggled to step into her heels.

  “Just let me leave, Chance,” she pleaded, jerking out of his grasp and bending down to grab both shoes by the heels with one hand instead.

  “What the hell happened?” he asked, confused by her behavior.

  “Bye, Chance,” she said, turning away with an awkward wave to leave the kitchen.

  Naked and uncaring, he followed behind her. “Ngozi, at least put your damn shoes on,” he said.

  She stopped in the foyer, looking back at him. Her eyes darted down to his now-limp member, and she whirled away from him to hold the edge of the table as she slid on each of her shoes.

  “Not exactly sure how you go from I need this to needing to get the hell away from me,” he said.

  She continued on to the door, her perfect ponytail now mussed and her makeup smeared. She opened the door and paused. “It was amazing, Chance, but a mistake,” she said, not turning to face him. “You’re my client. You were my client. I can’t represent you now—”

  Chance scowled. “So not only are you making me feel bad for giving you exactly what you said you needed, but you also won’t rep me anymore. You know what? Unnecessary drama, Ngozi. Just...unnecessary. If that’s how you want it, then fine.”

  She turned. “You got what you wanted, right?” she asked.

  No, I got more than I asked for.

  “Whatever you say,” Chance said, turning to walk away.

  When the front door closed, he paused, wiping his bearded chin with his hand as he shook his head. Damn.

  Chapter 5

  “You’re so tight, Ngozi.”

  “I feel you. I... I... I feel it. I needed this. I needed this.”

  Ngozi shivered at the hot memory and then was flooded with embarrassment, raising her hands to press her palms against her cheeks. She had begged the man to please her. Making love with Chance atop that island had been so out of charac
ter for her. Not Miss Prim-and-Proper. Not Miss Perfect.

  But...

  It had felt so right. So good. So necessary.

  But that didn’t take away from her unprofessionalism. She had broken her one rule of not mixing business with pleasure. For that, she was disappointed in herself and ashamed.

  But...

  At odd moments through the last few days and each night, she had thought of him, inside her, riding her, pleasing her...and she wanted more.

  “Whoo,” she sighed, releasing a shaky breath as she leaned back in her chair in her office at VAL and closed her eyes, hoping to abate the steady throb of her femininity and the hardening of her nipples as her arousal came in a rush at the very thought of Chance Castillo and every delicious, long, curving inch—

  “Mmm.”

  She popped up out of her chair, her eyes wide, and pressed the back of her hand to her lips, surprised by her own moan of pleasure. She looked out the glass wall of her office and was happy no one had noticed her startled reaction. She smoothed the fitted black lambskin dress with embroidered pocket she wore before reclaiming her seat with a shake of her head.

  “Come on, Ngozi. Gather yourself,” she said, reaching for her conference phone to hit the button for the speakerphone before she dialed an extension.

  “Yes, Ms. Johns?”

  “Hello, Roberta. Can Larry take a quick call?” she asked the legal secretary of Larry Rawlings.

  “Sure thing. Hold on, I’ll transfer you in.”

  Beep.

  He was on the line within a second. “Yes, Ngozi?”

  “Hey, Larry, I just wondered if Mr. Castillo followed up with you,” she said, shifting her gaze out at the sun beginning to set beyond the towering Manhattan buildings.

  “Yes, he did. Matter of fact, a messenger just dropped off a folder of receipts with a detailed outline of dates,” he said. “We have an appointment to meet next to get the ball rolling.”

  In her haste to leave Chance’s home she had left the folder of information behind.

  “Good,” she said, confused by her disappointment. “Thanks for picking up the ball for me, but I know you will get the job done, and hopefully the firm will be able to cover some other interests for Mr. Castillo, as well.”

  “I’m on it.”

  “Thanks, Larry. Enjoy your weekend.”

  She ended the call.

  Chance had moved on. There had been no calls or attempts to finagle more of her time. There was no more chasing to be done.

  Ngozi winced as she thought of his annoyance at her. She could understand.

  So not only are you making me feel bad for giving you exactly what you said you needed, but you also won’t rep me anymore.

  Glancing at her watch, she rose and retrieved her black wool and lambskin belted jacket from her closet before grabbing her clutch and portfolio, as well. She quickly began packing files into the crocodile briefcase.

  “Good night, Ms. J.”

  She glanced up at Angel with a smile. “Have a good weekend,” she bid her assistant, before returning to her task. Suddenly, she looked up. “Not too good. You’re on probation.”

  “Yes, I know. You remind me every weekend,” she said. “What do you have planned? Any fun?”

  Ngozi looked taken aback. “I have fun, Angel,” she said.

  Three days ago, I had plenty of it atop an island in the middle of a kitchen.

  Her personal assistant looked disbelieving.

  “As a matter of fact, tonight I am attending a charity dinner and I’m looking forward to it,” she lied.

  Alek and Alessandra had purchased a few tables in support of a charity benefiting inner-city youth. The odds were in favor of Chance being in attendance, as well. Their seeing each other was inevitable. They shared a godchild and friends.

  What if he brought a date?

  Ngozi came out from around her desk. “I am headed home to find just the right outfit,” she said as they walked down the length of the office together to the elevator.

  * * *

  Chance stood at the entrance of the open brass door leading into the grand ballroom of midtown Manhattan’s Gotham Hall and took in the sight of the elegant decor with bluish lighting that highlighted the gilded ceiling with its stained glass center and the oval-shaped room’s marble flooring. It was as beautiful as every other gala event. Tables set. Flower arrangements centered. Candles lit. Music playing. Gourmet food ready to be served. Drinks prepped to be poured. Attendees mingling in their finery.

  He was bored.

  He was better with writing the check and wishing the charity well, and didn’t need the pomp and circumstance surrounding it. It all was a bit much for the boy from the wrong side of the tracks, but alas, he had long since learned to play the role. To show up. Write the check. Rub shoulders. Advance.

  And then find his fun elsewhere.

  He spotted Alek at the large bar and made his way toward him, weaving his way through the crowd of people filling the large room. “Good to see familiar faces,” he said.

  Alek turned, and they shared a handshake.

  “Right,” Alek said. “Thanks for coming. I know this is not your thing. Why’d you change your mind?”

  Chance shrugged before leaning against the bar and looking about the room.

  “No date?”

  At that moment, Chance spotted Ngozi as she stepped into the open doorway of the ballroom. His heart instantly pounded at the sight of her in the floor-length illusion gown with a fringe skirt and plunging neckline lined with lace scalloped edges that made her décolletage all the more appealing. Damn.

  Memories of nuzzling his face in that soft spot between her breasts as he made love to her came in a rush. Flashes of hot moments they shared in his kitchen replayed—the same memories that had plagued him since that evening. In that moment, she brushed her sleek hair back from her face and entered the ballroom. Any hints of the anger he once held for her faded like a fine mist.

  He missed her.

  He wanted her.

  And it took every bit of strength contained within him not to call her. To accept that the heated moments they shared had been a mistake, just as she had said.

  He didn’t believe that. The energy and excitement he felt in her presence was like nothing he had ever experienced with any other woman. Not even Helena.

  And the sex?

  His gut clenched.

  He thought he’d gone mad in those furious moments as he climaxed inside her.

  His eyes were on her as she made her way across the room. He watched as she reached the table. Alessandra rose to greet her, and the two women hugged each other, exchanged words and shared a laugh.

  Alek turned and pushed a double shot of tequila into Chance’s hand.

  “Huh?” he said, looking down at the drink in surprise before taking it from his friend.

  “There’s Ngozi,” Alek said, sipping from his drink with one hand and holding a flute of champagne with the other. “Wow, that dress is unforgettable. I wonder who she’s trying to tempt tonight.”

  “Me,” Chance answered, looking on as both Ngozi and Alessandra looked across the room toward them.

  “Huh?” Alek said, frowning. “Am I missing something?”

  “Plenty,” Chance said before taking a deep sip of his drink.

  “Care to fill me in?”

  “Nope.”

  “Cool,” Alek said, motioning for the bartender. “Another flute of Dom, please.”

  With drinks in hand, Chance eyed how the blue lights reflected so perfectly against her dark complexion and highlighted her back in the low cut of the dress. “Why is she so damn fine?” he asked, accepting that his nerves would forever be shot in her presence as he neared her.

  “I couldn’t answer that because I got a hella fine one my
damn self,” Alek said, giving his wife an appreciative eye in the strapless white dress she wore with a large statement necklace of gold.

  “Hello, Ngozi,” he said.

  She turned and looked up at him. “Chance. How are you?” she asked, accepting the flute he handed to her.

  Their hands lightly grazed each other, and their eyes locked.

  And there it was again. Big. Bold. Undeniable. Constant.

  Chemistry.

  * * *

  Ngozi barely heard the live band’s rendition of Minnie Riperton’s “Loving You” as she tried her best not to stare at Chance, but they both seemed to be failing at it. She would look at him, he would look away. She would feel his eyes on her, like heat, but when she glanced in his direction, his attention was elsewhere.

  Several times she caught both Alek’s and Alessandra’s eyes shifting back and forth between them. Her heart was pounding so rapidly that she feared it would outpace her and send her into a total blackout. And when Chance rose, tossing his linen napkin on his untouched food, and came around the table to extend his hand to her, she pursed her glossy lips and released a breath filled with all her nervous anxiety.

  She looked up at him, down at his big beautiful hand, and then back up at his face, knowing that sliding her hand in his was much more than an invitation to dance.

  “Come on,” he mouthed.

  She couldn’t resist.

  “What am I missing?” she heard Alessandra ask from behind her.

  “Hush, baby,” Alek suggested.

  Ngozi hung her beaded egg-shaped clutch around her wrist and accepted Chance’s offer. Her hand was warm where they touched as he led her onto the dance floor beneath the oscillating lights. He stopped and gently tugged her to pull her body close to his. She settled her arms across his back as he settled his around her waist. The top of her head came to his chin, and as they danced, their bodies seemed to fit. To work. To click. Like lock to key.

  He dipped his head. “Still don’t need me anymore?” he asked near her ear.

  She leaned back to look up at him. “Chance,” she whispered, her resolve sounding feeble to her own ears.