Borrowed Billionaire #3 Return to Mr. Thorne (3 page)

On Wednesday, I was hip deep in Mrs. Chong's collectibles, anticipating spending the rest of the week there, when Mr. Luthor Thorne called. Again. Wanting phone sex.

I excused myself to Mrs. Chong's washroom, shut the door, and said to him, “If you want something from me, ask me on a date.”

He said, “You sound cranky. Is Mitzi there?”

I ended the call and turned the phone off.

On Thursday, Mr. Thorne did not call.

On Friday, Mr. Thorne did not call, and I felt sad.

I didn't want to feel sad, or lonely. After work, I called up Jacob, my fireman friend.

“Lexie, I don't know. I'm exhausted from working out,” he said, his voice so tired it was making me feel tired. “And I have to get up early ...”

I held the phone away while he made excuses. I cut in, saying, “I'll suck your dick like it's a diamond ring.”

He cleared his throat.

“Jacob?”

“Why don't you come on over? I think I'm getting a second wind.”

With a big grin on my face, I ended the call and raced to grab my keys from the bowl beside the door.

I was at his place in less than ten minutes. Both of us being in the same neighborhood was probably why the arrangement worked so well. We'd met at a club and been introduced by a mutual acquaintance. Jacob and I had hit it off, for the night, at least.

We'd attempted to go on a date, once, but he'd come up to my place to pick me up, I'd yanked him inside the door, torn his clothes off, and that was about as far as dating went for us. We'd talked about our needs, and both agreed we weren't into anything serious. Our arrangement was good. Though it wasn't the sort of thing I could tell my mother about, it was honest, and we really were friends.

When I got to his place, he was walking around his bachelor apartment, holding up his cell phone with one hand and running an electric razor over his face with the other.

I went to the fridge and grabbed myself a bottle of beer. He finished shaving, clicked off the razor, then said into his phone, “I gotta go, sweetie, my friend is here.”

After he put the phone away, I said, “Sweetie?” We weren't exclusive, but I did want to know if someone else was in the picture.

He laughed. “My niece. She's the most adorable thing.”

I stepped in close and slid a hand up under his tight-fitting, black T-shirt. “
You
, sir, are the most adorable thing.”

“I need a haircut,” he said, running his hand over his black curls, his dark brown eyes crinkling with his grin.

“I'll cut your hair.”

“Really?”

“Sure! I trim my mother's hair, because she likes to save money.”

He took the bottle of beer from my hand and tipped it back, guzzling the rest, then he set the bottle down on his counter and let out a loud belch.

“Jacob!” I yelled, pulling away from him before the smell hit me.

“Grr,” he said. “That's what men do.”

I circled the small apartment, ending up in front of the gas fireplace. I draped myself over the mantle and said, “What else to men do?”

He jokingly smacked one hand into his open palm. “They pound the pussy.”

I unbuttoned my blouse, revealing that I wasn't wearing a bra. With a flirty smile, I fondled my breast and said, “Come here so I can put one of these in your mouth to get you to stop talking.”

“No dirty talk tonight,” he said, getting closer.

He stopped a few feet away from me and slowly pulled his tight, black T-shirt off over his head. He took an eternity, just like a hunky fireman at a calendar photo shoot—which was something he had done for the last few years. Always for a good, charitable cause, of course.

His body really was a work of art, with clearly-defined abdominal muscles, and a slim waist tapering up to broad, strong shoulders.

He knew I was watching, knew I was drinking him in, and he dragged out the moment, finishing with an oh-so-casual stretch, his muscular arms above his head.

“You sexy tease,” I said.

“Play your cards right and I'll do the whole dance for you someday.”

I tilted my shoulders back and let my blouse slip off, falling to the floor.

He stepped all the way up to me at last, but he didn't put those muscular arms around me just yet. He leaned down and licked at one nipple, firming it with his tongue and then giving it an exquisitely hard suck. A tremor of pleasure shot through me from my nipple to my core, and I gasped.

He looked up at me through his dark eyebrows, his eyes so knowing. As with the undressing, he knew exactly what he did to me, the affect his gorgeous body and his generous touch had on me.

His hands gripped my waist, the firm pressure of his fingers sending a thrill down my spine. As he slowly moved both hands around to the front of my waistband, to the button, my pussy began to ache for him. Still leaning down, he unfastened my jeans as he moved to the other breast, running his tongue around the whole orb of it and then onto the other nipple, already firm for him.

He moved his mouth all the way up to my collarbone, my throat, and then to my mouth. I kissed him eagerly, parting my lips to allow his tongue access.

He had my jeans and panties down and I stepped out of them, kicking them aside without breaking our kiss. We were still in front of the fireplace, with me leaning back against the mantle to steady myself.

I had my hands around his broad, muscular back, my fingertips alternately digging in and gliding over his firm muscles. I knew he worked out to be strong for his work, for hauling equipment and saving people's lives, but being so beautiful was a fringe benefit I could enjoy.

His kissing was sensual, but not as ravenous as he usually was. I pulled my head back and commented, “Are you feeling up to this? I don't want to wear you out if your tired. I'm sorry … I … um, barely said two words to you when I got here. Did you have a busy day at work?”

“Nothing too dramatic. A couple of accidents, but it was a good day. We did good work out there.”

I ran my fingers over his biceps. “I'm so proud of you.”

He pulled me in and squeezed me in a hug. “Thanks for saying that. You're a good friend.”

“So, what do you wanna do? Wanna watch some TV? Order food in?”

He took one of my hands and pressed it against the firm shape at the front of his jeans.

“You're not so tired after all,” I said.

He started walking backwards, pulling me with him in an awkward, half-dancing, half-stumbling fashion, until we reached his sofa. His sofa was also his bed, but he hadn't folded the bed out, which was fine by me, because I hated that squeaky old thing.

He fell back on the couch, pulling me down on top of him. I was completely naked, but he still had his jeans on. With him on his back, I rubbed my mound against his crotch, pressing hard against his cock to rub my clit against him. I groaned. “Oh, let's dry hump, like teenagers,” I said, getting into rhythm.

He laughed. “Just for a minute.”

“Mmm.” I kept rubbing against him, surprised at how pleasurable the sensation was. He was locked away under his jeans and I was free to get as much friction as I needed. I'd be coming in a few minutes, at this rate. Thinking about what torture it was for Jacob only made it all the more dirty and fun.

“Your back is sweaty,” he said as he pushed me away.

I bit my lip and growled in frustration. “So? A little sweat freaks you out now?”

He unbuttoned his jeans and released his cock, fully engorged, shiny and slick across the head. “I want to be inside you when you come.”

I grabbed his cock in my hand and squeezed. “So demanding.”

“You can still be on top.”

I pumped him with my hand, making his eyes roll up with pleasure. Now it was his turn to bite his lip. He caught his breath and said, “Up, up, we have to pull out the bed.”

I jumped up and grabbed the cushions, tossing them with gusto across the room to make him smile. He was all business as he pulled out the bed (with sheets on it this time, thank goodness), got his jeans off, then got out the condoms and the lube.

I eyed the lube suspiciously. Who was he kidding? I always got crazy wet for him. Was he thinking about some other girl? Or was he going to try for anal sex?

He lay back on the bed, his gorgeous calendar-ready body waiting for me, and any worries I had flitted away. It was just the two of us, our naked bodies twining together, giving each other pleasure.

I climbed on top of him, but didn't put his hot, meaty cock into my pussy just yet. I kissed him and sucked on his neck, grinding my mound against his erection, squirming around. When I sensed he'd suffer enough torture, I slowly moved down his body until I had my face over his cock. I pressed my face against the silky-soft skin, drinking in the musky scent.

With a giggle, I said, “I'm going to suck it like it's a diamond ring.”

He didn't respond verbally, but I thought it was the funniest thing. I guess, in the abstract sense, I meant that his cock was special, and that he was precious. I opened wide and licked his head quickly before bobbing down on his shaft with my mouth. His cock throbbed as I sucked it, getting even harder, so rigid that it forced my face closer and closer to the chiseled muscles of his stomach.

With one hand on the base, my other hand roamed around, exploring his body for my own gratification. Even my hands were pleasure receptors, with his beautiful, muscular body.

When I pulled him from my mouth, he grabbed my whole body and shifted me up on top of him. He deftly grabbed the condom and got read, then gripped me by the hips and pressed the tip of his cock between my slick folds. The fullness pulled at my skin, pulled everything tight and firm.

I was so turned on from giving him head that I started to come before he was even all the way in.

“You are so hot,” he said, driving into me.

I came, sooner than expected, but still with some fireworks. My throat was tight as I cried out in pleasure.

He kept moving, working me up and down his hard shaft. The air around us was dense and rich with his musk.

As we kept up this dance, waves of pleasure rippled through me, my inner walls and clit incredibly sensitive. As he thrust into me, moving my body with his strong hands and arms, his hips pulsing rhythmically, his motions dragged out the edge of my orgasm, and it went on forever.

When he came, grunting and tensing, I was still right there with him.

After the feverish movements, we came to a rest, and I collapsed onto him, my strong, sturdy, good friend Jacob.

My breathing had just returned to normal when the buzzer in his apartment buzzed.

He pushed me off him. “That'll be the Chinese food.”

“What? When did you order Chinese food?”

He crossed the room and pressed the intercom button to let the delivery guy up, then he raced over to get his jeans and tidy up. Following his lead, I did the same, getting back into my clothes much more quickly than I'd gotten out of them.

I repeated the question, “When exactly did you order the food?”

He pointed to the clock above the mantle. “Right on time,” he said. “I timed it out from when you phoned me, figuring we'd be ready to eat right about now.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but the delivery guy was already at the door. Jacob chatted with him for a few minutes as he paid for the food.

Once we were alone again, I pulled up a stool at his kitchen counter—the only place in the tiny apartment to eat a meal like a civilized person.

I said, “Did you time the food to arrive … after we had sex?”

“Yes,” he said plainly, looking innocent. “Was that wrong? Tell me what I did wrong, Lexie. I didn't mean to offend you, it's just ...” He pointed back and forth between himself and me.

I opened up my packet of chopsticks and rubbed the wooden sticks together, laughing. “I don't know why I'm being so silly,” I said. “Of course it's fine.”

He leaned across the forehead and kissed me on my forehead.

“You're the best,” he said.

I opened up the steaming food containers as Jacob grabbed some plates and napkins.

We ate dinner in contented silence.

After, we watched some inane TV shows together, stretched out on the fold-out bed. He said I was welcome to spend the night, but I thought about my own bed and my own shower, plus having fresh, clean clothes for the next morning, so I thanked him and got ready to leave before midnight.