The Mogul and the Muscle (Bluewater Billionaires)

by Claire Kingsley

“Fine. You can come home with me. But don’t expect me to put out unless you buy me dinner first.” His jaw hitched, an almost imperceptible tic. Nothing about his expression changed, and I wondered if I’d imagined it. But the thought that I’d just ruffled this solid wall of man was oddly amusing. I kind of wanted to see if I could do it again.

I could already tell Cameron Whitbury was going to be an enormous pain in my ass. But I’d always been a bit of a masochist.

One thought had invaded my mind—someone was in my house. The next second had brought another thought, just as fast and explosive as the first. Jude was behind me. And all that fear had dissipated.

When I went offsite, he came with me. He insisted on walking ahead of me into restaurants, and he’d even checked underneath the table before my lunch meeting yesterday. I was pretty sure he did things like that to screw with me. His expression hardly changed, but there was a hint of fuckery in his eyes.

Pausing again, I ran my fingers over a very naughty rose gold cuff and choker set. The shiny metal cuffs were connected to a black braided rope. Luxury kink. My eyes darted to Jude again. Nothing. Except I caught sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat with a hard swallow and a tiny bead of sweat glistened on his forehead. In the air-conditioned store. There was a man under there. Interesting.

Her hips had swayed, and she’d slid her hands down her thighs while she checked her reflection in the full-length mirror. Confident. Gorgeous. Mine. She wasn’t, nor was she ever going to be. But the thought had hit me hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs. I’d recovered well. I was sure she hadn’t noticed. But it had been difficult to keep my cool. And then the vixen had taken me into a lingerie store.

I found myself dreading the moment—which seemed inevitable at this point—when he’d tell me I didn’t need him anymore. That I’d been right all along, and full-time personal security wasn’t necessary. What was I going to say when that happened? Thanks, it was nice to have met you, good luck with retirement? Wait, I was wrong, I’m terrified for my life and I need you to stay? Come home with me and lick key lime tart off my stomach?

Jude stood, making a show of chewing the tiny marshmallow. He gave Alicia a high five—low enough for her to reach—then glanced at me and shrugged, his expression a little sheepish. It was right about then that my ovaries exploded.

He’d been adorable with those kids, revealing a side I wouldn’t have guessed existed. It made me want to dig deeper—get to know him better. And it was that very impulse that stilled me into silence. That and the fact that I had an insane urge to offer to have his babies.

“There’s only one way to solve this.” “What’s that?” “I need to see your dick.” Right as those words left her mouth, Nicholas opened the door from the terrace. Without missing a beat he said, “I’ll come back,” and left again.

She reached into a bag of popcorn and put a few kernels in her mouth. “Don’t mind me,” she said. “I’m just here for the dick show.”

I didn’t want to brag, but the modifications I’d made to my Lady Jam Personal Erotic Massager had become the stuff of legend. My friends had all bought the same model and made me trick out theirs too.

But I didn’t want to handle things myself. Not tonight. I wanted to take off the mantle of high-powered CEO. Woman in a man’s world. Badass engineer and literal rocket scientist who could do anything. Face anything. Be anything. If I could be anything, tonight all I wanted was to be held. For someone else to do the heavy lifting.

As sweet as it was, I didn’t want tea. I wanted this man’s arms around me, cocooning me in safety. I wanted to feel like I didn’t have to be brave for a few hours. I wanted to let him be my courage. My protection. My shield.

“Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to—” He clapped a hand over my mouth. “Shh,” he whispered next to my ear. It wasn’t an urgent plea to be quiet. It was a soft command, delivered with a slight thrust of his hips. He was about to melt my La Perla thong right off me.

Reaching behind me, I gripped his cock through his pants. He grunted softly and loosened his hand on my mouth. “Here?” he whispered. “Can you make it work?” I whispered back. “Are you kidding?” He tightened his hand over my mouth again and drew my head back, baring my neck. “You want to get fucked in this closet, I’ll fuck the shit out of you right here.”

“She picks her shoes based on her mood. I figured if I ever needed this, it’d be because she was either trying to ditch me or she was pissed at me. Either way, I bugged a few of her boldest pairs of shoes as a precaution.”

“You bugged the shoes you’d thought she’d wear if she was mad or trying to ditch you?” “Exactly,” I said over the roar of the engine. “And I was right.”

Relief crashed through me, so potent I was almost euphoric. “I knew you’d come.” He cut through the rope binding my left ankle and looked up, meeting my eyes. “I’ll always come for you.” That was the second time he’d quoted The Princess Bride perfectly in conversation—this time in the middle of a crisis—and a voice in my head screamed, Marry him and have all his babies!