Page 11 of The Good Billionaire
Tristan smirked and slipped a card out of his wallet. “Can I make a suggestion?”
“Please,” I answered.
My cousin tossed the card on the coffee table. “This is a spare Master Key. It goes to PH1 our penthouse floor, and will open Gray’s apartment. He’s not coming home until tomorrow. The villas on PH2 are all booked up tonight.”
“And?” I said, my heart pounding.
“Go fuck your brains out. Forget your troubles and get naked. Enjoy each other for a few hours. That’ll put a smile on your faces.”
Kennedy’s eyes hit the table, staring at the card.
Permission to have sex. Sex didn’t solve problems, but, fuck, it kept couples from drifting apart if there was constant intimacy. I realized now I’d dropped that ball big time by ignoring my wife’s sexual needs. Always thinking, next weekend, next weekend, next weekend, and then some superstar would get hit by a pitch or take a hockey stick to the knee.
What Kennedy didn’t realize was it’d all happened so fast for me. My fame had been a runaway train.
Tristan stalked off toward the front desk, answering his phone to deal with more hotel business.
Kennedy drank her wine, while I had an ache in my pants spiraling out of control. I had no choice but to tell her what she was doing to me. Just to see if she were up for Tristan’s suggestion.
She exhaled and the look on her face told me no way would Kennedy go for something so rash. So out of left field.
Then my heartstopped.
Down in my lap...
Kennedy’s hand.
One glass of cabernet had emboldened that wicked woman enough to stroke my cock under the table.
What the fuck?
My erection strained against my briefs. Her face glowed with ecstasy, those violet eyes shining on me. I swallowed and leaned into her. “That feels fucking fantastic.”
“I bet.” Her fingers pressed against the hard length now stretched out past the elastic, the tip dripping on my thigh.
My head dipped back and I moved my hips to push deeper into her hand. “Don’t stop,” I whispered.
But the sensation had stopped. Clearing the haze from my eyes, I saw her ass wiggle away in a short skirt as she headed toward the elevators. The key card on the table gone.
Game on...
“THIS IS CRAZY, RIGHT?” I lifted Kennedy and pressed her back against the elevator wall.
“Considering I’mtryingto divorce you,” she answered me, wrapping her legs around my waist. “Very.”
“Look how that’s working out.” I pushed harder against her, trying to get as close as possible.
I gazed into her violet eyes sparkling again and they struck me like the first time I’d seen them ten years ago. Last weekend during the surgery, anger clouded the color. The grayish-blue had popped off her creamy skin at the bakery after I kissed her. Now they blazed with lust.
Even though we were humping in a New York City hotel elevator, I swore I tasted the briny air of Johns Hopkins Medical School. Memories of the first time we’d had sex flooded me. How good it’d felt to slide into her knowing I’d been the only guy to do so. That she’d waited for me.
That feeling returned to me. No way had she been with someone else. Neither had I.
Her tongue boldly swept into my mouth with kisses that always unglued me. She only stopped kissing me to run herhands all over me like she’d die if she didn’t touch every inch of my chest.
Waiting to reach the penthouse floor, I dropped more kisses on Kennedy’s mouth and tasted the cabernet on her lips. I’d never wanted her so much. I’d never wanted anything that much. When she left me, she’d taken what was left of my sex drive with her. I punished her in that elevator with kisses growing more possessive with every sip of her lips.
If she asked again for the divorce, I may be an idiot and sign the papers just so she wouldn’t stop kissing me. Nothing compared to this glorious mouth of hers. Both on my lipsandmy dick.
