Billionaires Dollar Series

My eyes drift to his lips, to the stubble along his jaw. “I didn’t think you were this slow. You must have figured it out by now.”

“Oh, I have,” he says, eyes burning. “I just want to hear you say it.”

“You want me to admit defeat? Never.”

“Not defeat. A truce.” His smile curves, crooked and sly. “You want me as much as I want you.”

Every part of my body wants to admit it, would say anything to have his lips on me again. For a few perilous seconds, I fight the impulse, but it’s a losing battle. I reach up to twine my arms around his neck and surrender. “Fine,” I say. “I want you. Stud.”

Dark humor glitters in his eyes. “Finally,” he murmurs, bending to press his lips against mine. It’s just like the kiss in the bookstore, powerful and deep and insistent. His mouth is demanding and I give in to its power. Strong hands run down my arms and raise goose bumps in their wake.

Despite everything-the fact that we don’t know each other very well, the competition over the bookstore, the vast class difference between us-it’s the same as it was in the hotel room. It’s uncomplicated, our bodies knowing one another intimately.

I press myself against him and he growls low in his throat. The sound reverberates into me, a moan of my own taking shape. He kisses down my neck and I swear my eyes roll into my head a little bit. “Bedroom,” I tell him.

The shake of his head is faint. “Right here.”

I crawl back on the couch and he follows, covering me with his body, the weight of him bearing me down.

Cole returns to my lips. I run my hands up his back as he kisses me senseless, a tongue seeking entry. Strong hands reach down and push my dress up so I can wrap my legs around him.

“This feels familiar,” I murmur.

His dark laugh washes over me. “Painfully so,” he says, pushing against me until I feel his hardness.

It undoes something in me. I pull his face down to my neck and bite his ear, my heels digging into his thighs. “Fast,” I say. “Slow later.”

He sits back, pulling off his sweater and T-shirt in one smooth motion. Tan, taut skin is revealed in all its glory. Hair on his abdomen, disappearing down into the black slacks.

I arch up to pull down my zipper, and he helps, peeling the tight dress off my skin and revealing it to his gaze.

His hands roam. My hips. My arms. My stomach. His gaze soaks up my body, my lacy lingerie, and I burn everywhere it touches.

“Sure you want it fast?” he asks, voice dark and coarse.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

I undo his belt buckle and turn his former words on him. “Chickening out, Porter?”

He laughs, but it’s a short, heated sound. “Fuck no.”

I pull down his zipper at the same time as he reaches around and undoes the clasp of my bra. The lace falls down my arms and he tosses it aside.

“I’m pulling rank,” he says, standing up and kicking off his slacks. “Come here.”

Strong hands grip my thighs and I’m lifted up, held against his body. He knocks something over on his way to the bedroom.

“Leave it,” I say, though with his lips against my throat, it doesn’t seem like he’s even noticed.

He tosses me on the bed and climbs over me. My legs around his waist. His hardness against my heat, even through our underwear. His silky hair under my fingers. I’m overcome with sensations.

Cole breaks away with his trademark smile. “No hesitation tonight. You were more unsure that night at the hotel.”

“Only at first.” I pull him down again and rake my nails lightly over his back.

“Only at first,” he agrees, flipping over so I’m on top. His hands grip my hips and his eyes are on my breasts, my body, unmistakably hungry.

I grab his wrist and pull it to my chest. He cups obligingly, strong fingers pinching my nipples. “This, I remember,” he says, and sits up to put his mouth on them. He bites. I gasp.

This is what the hotel night had been like. No awkwardness. Full communication. The combination had made for multiple orgasms and more playful sex than I’d ever had before.

Heady waves of need pulse through me with each pull of his lips. I run my hands over his wide shoulders, the deep grooves of his back. I’ve missed this body.

Cole leans back and inspects my breasts-both of them full and heavy, the nipples now taut and red. “Perfect.”

I push him back and he falls onto the bed, laughing. “So impatient, Holland.”

“Very.” I reach down and stroke him through his boxers, and his laughter dies immediately.

“This is separate,” I remind him.

“Entirely,” he agrees.

I pull the waistband down and grip him hard. He hisses in painful pleasure.

“We’ll have sex.”

“Yes,” he growls. “Please.”

I stroke, once, twice. He’s throbbing in my hand, steel and velvet combined. “And afterwards, we go back to hating each other.”

The black of his eyes flashes. “Yes.”

He reaches out and tugs my panties roughly to the side. And then he does the same to me, the same power play, letting his fingers tease and circle until it’s difficult to focus on stroking him.

“Fair is fair,” he says, voice breathless.

I feel the same way. Every touch of his fingers increases the ache inside me. There’s not much more of this I can take.

Cole flips me in one strong move, and then he’s moving down my body, hands on either side of my panties. I raise my hips off the bed and he pulls them down my legs. “What did you think of the lace?”

“Very nice.” He puts his hand on me, fingers spreading me, before one of them sinks deliciously deep inside. “But I like this better.”

Something inside me warms at the praise at the same time as need claws through me. Judging from the dark of his eyes, he feels the same.

“And so wet already,” he says. “Fuck.”

“Already warmed up.”

Cole draws his finger out slowly. “Clearly.”