Sleeping Beauty's Billionaire Read online

  “Sure.” Disconnecting, she set the phone on the counter and turned off the burner, then reached for the French coffee press, which she’d already filled with freshly ground coffee beans. While the coffee steeped, she got down two cups, some napkins and a tin of cookies and assembled a tray. Then, telling herself firmly that she wasn’t going to let her brother’s unintended interference put a wrench in her plans, she picked up the tray, took a deep breath and headed for the living room.

  Seconds later she concluded that breathing was highly overrated. And that while just a little while ago she might have truly believed she was much too conservative and inexperienced, not to mention repressed, to actually follow through on her kitchen fantasies, that was no longer true.

  All it took was one look at Gavin. Because while she’d been working herself into a lather in the other room, he’d shed his coat, loosened his tie and undone the top few buttons of his shirt.

  Now, sprawled comfortably on the center of the couch, his legs stretched out and his hands clasped loosely behind his head, he was the picture of potent masculinity. And, she acknowledged, her dream lover come true.

  “Gavin?” Her voice sounded every bit as tremulous as she felt.

  “Yeah?”

  “Nick called. He said to say thanks and wanted me to let you know that it looks as if everyone’s going to be fine.”

  “Good.”

  She swallowed, her mouth suddenly feeling desert-dry. “I—I have a question.”

  “Okay. Shoot.”

  “Do you really want to have a cup of coffee?”

  He glanced from her face to the tray in her hands and back again. “Hey, listen, if there’s some problem, if you’re worried you made it too weak or too strong, it’s no big deal—”

  “That’s not it.”

  “Oh.” He considered her, clearly puzzled. “Okay.”

  She felt his gaze like a brand as she walked the few feet to the sideboard, set down the tray, then turned and, heart jammed in her throat, approached the couch.

  He studied her face, then cocked his head slightly to one side. “So, you want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “Want to?” She grimaced. “Not really. But I will.” And before she could lose her nerve, she closed the distance between them. “The truth is, I don’t want anything to drink. And I don’t want to sit here and make polite conversation.

  “What I want—” She stopped to clear her throat. “The only thing I want is you.” In one decisive motion she swung a leg over his thighs, straddling them, slid her arms around his neck and her bottom onto his lap, and claimed his mouth with her own.

  She braced for his reaction, her heart in her throat.

  She didn’t have long to wait. For the space of a heartbeat every muscle in his body tightened, and then to her profound relief he made a raw, primitive sound low in his throat, wrapped his arms around her and met her kiss with his own.

  Time lost all meaning for Colleen. She wasn’t sure how long they kissed, whether it was seconds or minutes or hours. Nor did she care. The only thing in the whole wide world that mattered was Gavin; his taste, his touch, the wet heat of his mouth.

  When finally they came up for air, she felt as if every nerve ending in her body was on fire. She blinked, knowing there was something she needed to tell him and wondering what on earth had happened to her verbal skills. Her mind was a blank. “That was nice,” she ventured.

  Gavin clearly wasn’t in the mood for conversation. “Oh, yeah,” he murmured. In the next instant he nuzzled her neck with his lips, honing in on the hollow behind her ear.

  The warm lick of his tongue followed by the cooler tickle of his breath sent a shock of pure pleasure shooting through her. Feeling blissfully weak, she let her head loll back, allowing him greater access even as she again tried to remember what she’d wanted to say.

  A wisp of recollection drifted across her mind. “There’s—” she gasped as his teeth closed with gentle firmness on her earlobe “—something I need to tell you.”

  “Yeah?”

  He nibbled at the lower curve of her ear. To her stupefaction, that relatively tame action made her nipples instantly begin to throb, while a feeling of warmth and wetness blossomed at the apex of her thighs. It was so unexpected that her mind blanked out again, and it was a minute or two before she could speak.

  Not that what she wanted to say seemed as urgent now as it had just a few minutes ago. Still… “I’m wearing panty hose.”

  “What?”

  “You know, panty hose? The kind that comes in the little plastic packages at the grocery store. I’m so sorry, but…I thought you should know.”

  He was silent just long enough for her to start to wonder if she’d been right to tell him when he abruptly leaned back to stare at her. “Why on earth would you think you had to tell me that?” he demanded.

  He sounded so incredulous that for the first time she felt a little foolish. “Well, you’ve dated all those glamorous models and gorgeous actresses and I’m sure they all have silk panties and gorgeous underwear and garters and lace, but I—I don’t.”

  Without warning, he gave a muffled bark of laughter. “Oh, yeah, that’s a real cold shower, all right.” He stroked a rough-tipped thumb down the curve of her cheek. “Baby, you could be dressed in sackcloth and ashes—or better yet, nothing at all—and I’d still think you were the sexiest woman on earth. You seem to have forgotten that I’ve wanted you since I was seventeen years old.”

  “Oh, Gavin. Really?”

  “Sure.”

  “But you never said…”

  He gave a slight, dismissive shrug. “How could you not have known? I was crazy about you. And unlike you women, that’s a pretty hard fact for us guys to hide.”

  As if to prove his point, he rolled her beneath him and settled himself in the cradle of her thighs. Even through the barrier of their clothes, there was no missing the rock-solid length of his erection pressing against her. “I want you. Colleen, I want you so much.”

  “Me, too,” she replied, finding it hard to talk due to the combination of relief and anticipation surging through her. Locking her hands around his neck, she urged him closer.

  Yet to her surprise he momentarily resisted. Instead, he lifted himself up on one elbow, slid his hand down her thigh until he found the hem of her dress, then slipped his fingers beneath it. Ignoring her indrawn breath, he slowly ran his warm palm up the inside of her thigh.

  “As for these—” there was no mistaking the flame of satisfaction that lit his eyes as he reached the crotch of her silky hose and his hands brushed tantalizing against her “—no problem. No problem at all.” With clever fingers he lightly began to stroke her, intuitively seeming to know just the motion and the pressure to please her.

  One did not shake off thirty-two years of good-girl behavior, however, without making one token, knee-jerk act of resistance. Which was why she found herself automatically lifting her hand with some sort of hazy, totally lacking-in-conviction idea that he really shouldn’t be doing that.

  Then he gently pressed down and rotated his thumb dead center against the one place on her entire body screaming loudest to be touched.

  It was as if the rest of her ceased to exist. Her hand fell bonelessly back to the couch as every nerve in her body made a mass migration to the tingling, tightening, escalating swell of sensation beneath Gavin’s fingertips.

  She couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t utter even the tiniest sound as her entire being strained toward an elusive need that stubbornly seemed to lurk just a fraction beyond her reach.

  And then Gavin slid a little lower on the couch, shifted his head and clamped his mouth around one of her nipples straining through the lace dress and sucked at the same instant he rotated his thumb against her again—and pushed her over the edge.

  Pleasure unlike anything she’d ever felt rocketed through her. It claimed every muscle and every nerve ending, every inch of bone and patch of skin. And it seem
ed to go on forever.

  And ever.

  And ever.

  By the time the tempest finally passed thousands of seconds later, she felt amazed, transformed, exhausted, exalted and reborn.

  And happier than she’d been in a long, long time.

  It was a Sally Field moment if there’d ever been one, she decided as she found herself thinking, He likes me. He really likes me.

  It seemed like something she really ought to share. Not the Sally Field part, of course, although she couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips as a little voice in her head insisted that he had to care about her to have done something so intimate. But surely he had every right to know that she thought the entire thing had been amazing. That he’d been amazing.

  “Gavin?” Opening her eyes, she looked down, her stomach hollowing with a combination of tenderness and awe at the sight of his head cradled against her breast.

  “What?”

  “That was…incredible.”

  “I’m glad you think so.” He lifted his head and twisted his neck to meet her gaze, and her heart did a wild little somersault.

  Because in stark contrast to the languid satisfaction she hadn’t a doubt was plastered all over her face, the line of his mouth was taut and the slash of his cheekbones pronounced, while his dark eyes glittered with raw desire.

  A little drumbeat of anticipation kicked up inside her, miraculously banishing her previous lethargy. “And why is that?” she inquired in a throaty voice that didn’t sound at all like hers.

  “Because.” In one lithe move his feet hit the floor at that same time that he scooped her up and into his arms. “That was just the beginning.”

  “It was?”

  “Oh, yeah. There’s not a whole lot you can count on in life—” he straightened, lifting her as if she weighed nothing and began to walk, carrying her out of the living room and down the short hall in the direction of her bedroom “—but you can stake your life on that.”

  So far, so good, Gavin thought as he bumped open Colleen’s bedroom door with his hip.

  Somehow he was managing to control himself, to walk and talk and act like a civilized grown-up despite the near-savage need pumping through his veins and making his heart pound like a jackhammer.

  He shifted sideways as he crossed the threshold to ensure he didn’t inadvertently scrape Colleen against the frame, filled with the old protective instinct she’d always inspired in him. The one that until half an hour ago he’d been one hundred percent certain was not merely dead but buried six feet deep. The one that now appeared to have magically resurrected itself.

  And wasn’t that just perfect? Because at the same time, he was caught in a vise of desire stronger than any he’d ever experienced. So compelled was he to touch, taste and bury himself inside this one particular woman that the mere thought of being thwarted made him feel frantic and desperate and more than a little dangerous.

  And he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit. Because although he could no longer recall the specifics that had prompted it—only that it had predictably involved his mother abandoning him yet again to pursue her own selfish pleasures—he’d long ago vowed never to care too much about anything or anyone.

  Yet here he was, frantic with need. Hell, he was so turned on by the mere act of holding Colleen in his arms that his body, like that of some randy, inexperienced teenager, was on the verge of embarrassing him. And all because of a woman who’d already stomped his heart into the ground once, more than proving she couldn’t be trusted.

  And yet as he looked down into her soft blue eyes, he knew that he would never allow anything to hurt her.

  The realization sent a deep wave of uneasiness surging through him.

  “Gavin?”

  Just the sound of his name on her lips was as tantalizing as any caress. His body jerked in eager response, and the effort it took to control it put an abrupt end to his disturbing thoughts.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I don’t know.” She pursed her lips in contemplation and it took all of his willpower not to just toss her down on the bed, rip away the bare minimum of clothes that would give him access to what he wanted most and plunge himself deep inside her. “You just seem a little…tense.”

  No kidding. His entire body from his hair to his toes hurt from the effort of keeping himself in check, and there was a fine trickle of perspiration trailing down his back, further proof of the escalating cost of his restraint. “Yeah. I suppose I do. I’ve waited a long time for this. For you.”

  Her eyes momentarily widened and then she reached out to cup the side of his face in one fine-boned hand. “Me, too,” she said softly.

  He appreciated the sentiment. Still, the more cynical side of him, the part she’d had no small part in helping to create, seriously doubted she truly understood what she’d put him through all those years ago.

  The whole time they’d been together he’d had to constantly rein himself in, denying the howling needs of his testosterone-flooded body. Yet he’d assured himself over and over that it was worth it, persuaded that what they had would last forever and that he could wait—he would wait—to make her his wife before claiming her innocence.

  It had been his willing gift to her, one of the few he could give her and a testament to his belief that she was the antithesis of the women around whom he’d grown up. He’d believed with all his heart that she was pure, gentle, good.

  Right up until the minute she’d told him that it was over. That they both needed to concentrate on school. That, when it came right down to it, they weren’t right for each other.

  But that was then and this was now, he reminded himself. He was no longer a welfare kid from the projects, going to school on a soccer scholarship, working multiple jobs to make ends meet.

  Just as Colleen was no longer a sheltered young innocent, as she’d so amply demonstrated in the living room just minutes ago.

  And although sometime in the past few days the last lingering little sting of being dumped by her had vanished, he wasn’t so foolish as to believe that by being together now they could turn back the clock or recapture what they’d lost.

  But there was no reason they shouldn’t enjoy tonight. He knew he intended to. And as his body wasn’t the least bit shy about reminding him, it was past time they got started.

  Reaching the end of the bed, he set Colleen on her feet and unclasped her hands from around his neck. Then in one fluid motion he reached down, grasped the bottom edge of her stretchy little dress, pulled it up and over her head and tossed it aside.

  She made a little sound that was part gasp, part protest and part laugh. “Gavin—”

  “No.” He pressed a finger to her lips. “Don’t say a thing. Just…let me do this.”

  Her blue eyes searched his, and whatever she saw there caused her expression to abruptly sober. She swallowed, then, her gaze still locked on his face, nodded.

  He reached around, unsnapped her bra and slid it away, then hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her panty hose, slid them down and snagged the side of her panties and peeled both garments to her ankles. He gave her just enough time to grip his shoulders for balance and then sent her shoes sailing away. The remainder of her undergarments followed seconds later.

  He straightened, took a step back and looked.

  Instantly he was grateful that he regularly worked out. Otherwise he probably would’ve dropped dead from a heart attack.

  She was perfect. Petite, but willowy. Sleek, silky-skinned, delicately boned. She was more beautiful than he’d ever imagined, and over the course of seventeen years, he’d imagined, a lot.

  Her breasts were small, but exquisitely shaped, tipped with pale pink nipples that were currently beaded like priceless pearls. Beneath the smooth plane of her stomach, the perfect dimple of her navel, a neat triangle of ebony curls seemed to point the way to his ultimate destination.

  The second he
could breathe again, he yanked his shirt over his head, heedless of the sound of popping buttons, stripped away his pants, briefs and socks and eliminated the distance between them.

  Then he caught her to him with an arm to her waist and one to the top of her thighs and lifted her up. Their lips met and clung. Having felt her silky wetness through her clothing out in the living room, he didn’t hesitate. Knowing she was more than ready, he bent his knees and with one powerful thrust sheathed himself inside her.

  “Oh! Gavin, oh!”

  Her exclamation of shocked pleasure was the most potent of aphrodisiacs. Not that he needed any added stimulation. Lowering her onto the bed, settling deeper into the notch of her thighs, he had to fight a primitive urge to say to hell with control and just do whatever it took to accomplish his own pleasure.

  Except that he wanted…more. He wanted Colleen twisting and bucking beneath him, he wanted her shuddering and shaking, he wanted her shouting his name as she came.

  Bracing on his forearms, he came up on his knees, searching for just the perfect angle. Knowing he’d found it when she gave a surprised little shudder, he tore his mouth from her lips and traced a line with his tongue from her throat to the shallow valley between her breasts.

  “I…that’s… I didn’t realize…” Her breathless attempts to talk ceased abruptly as he licked one tightly budded nipple, gently blew on it, then locked onto it with his mouth and sucked. Hard.

  With a strangled cry she lifted her hips and took him as deeply as she could, then did an instinctive bump and grind that was as old as time.

  It did him in.

  With a deep, guttural sound of his own, he lifted himself up and began to move, out and then back in, harder and faster, faster and harder. The small of his back hollowed, the bands of muscle that sheathed his solar plexus clenched, his biceps burned.

  A rictus of pure, possessive satisfaction tugged the corners of his mouth as he heard her breathy moans and felt her strong interior muscles clench and release around him.

  This is the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. Nothing’s ever felt this good, this right.

  It was as if he and Colleen were the perfect fit, absolutely made for each other.