Bad Bridesmaid (Billionaire's Club Book 11) by Elise Faber (important books to read txt) 📕

neatly trimmed dark hair hiding the pussy he wanted to get his mouth on and his tongue inside, or to any of the tempting places in between. The trio of freckles beneath her right nipple, the star-shaped tattoo on her rib cage, the dainty dip of her belly button, the faint birthmark on her hip.

Hell, he would even be thrilled to put in quality time with her feet, with those cute little toes, their nails now painted in a bright pink, all except for the big toe, which had a tiny rendering of a palm tree.

A palm tree that was tapping just beneath his line of vision, Heidi having made her way back to stand by the bed.

She cleared her throat, and he forced his gaze to rise to hers, albeit taking a slow, meandering path up those strong and sensual legs, past the thighs he needed to lick his way up, beyond her stomach and ribs and even her breasts, though it lingered there long enough for her to clear her throat for a second time.

But then his eyes were on hers.

“Do women have to do everything?” she snapped, but her stare gave her away, warmth turning the grays and browns and greens of her eyes into a deep russet with streaks of gold, any anger having been edged out by amusement.

Out of the corner of his vision, he saw her wave her hand, and what she was holding finally captured his focus.

He reached for the plastic square—or probably, he lunged for it, so desperate he was to be inside her at this point—but she danced back, holding it out of reach. “Uh-uh,” she said, wickedness creeping into her expression. She stepped forward again, pushed him back onto the mattress. “She who brings the condom gets to ride the prize.”

“Heidi.”

“No arguments.”

He snagged a hand around her waist, yanked the condom out of her grip, and tore it open with his teeth. A second later, it was on his cock and he was lying back, tugging her over him, coaxing her down onto the hard length of him.

“I don’t care if you’re on top,” he said, breaths coming in short, staccato bursts. “So long as I’m inside—ah . . .” Holy fuck, that was good, the hot, tight sheath of her slipping down over him. “. . . you.”

She bottomed out, and they both groaned in satisfaction, in relief, in . . . coming home.

Then she began to move. With slow, deliberate strokes that told him she hadn’t forgotten their night together, that she’d remembered everything that had sent his blood boiling, his pleasure skyrocketing. His eyes rolled back, hips jerking up to meet her movements, and the tiny semblance of control he managed to keep hold of poofed away.

Gone. Disappeared to God knew where.

He forgot his own name.

He forgot to breathe.

He forgot to do anything but catapult toward the edge of oblivion, doing everything in his power to bring this woman along with him as she rode him hard and fast, bringing his release forward far too quickly. He knew he wouldn’t last long, knew he needed to get her there. She bucked against his thumb when he circled her clit, her thighs clenching tightly around him, her moans faltering and then breaking long and loud when he lurched up to suck a nipple deep.

But then her moans changed.

And she got close.

And then she was over.

Thank fuck.

Because then he was there, too.

And just like before, he knew he’d never be the same.

But unlike before, this time he didn’t run.

He slept like a baby, holding the woman he loved in his arms, knowing that everything in his life would finally work out.

Only when he woke in the morning, it was to find that he might not have run.

But Heidi had.

Twenty

Heidi

She’d closed her car door and rolled her shoulders, her brain absolute mush, but her heart completely full.

A night in Brad’s arms.

A delicious orgasm, followed by a pair when he’d woken her in the middle of the night with fingers between her thighs and an urgent whisper of, “Please, tell me you have another condom.”

In fact, she’d had another.

And the results had been . . . explosive.

So, when she’d gotten the call from Stef, asking if she might possibly have time to bring her computer to the hospital, she’d gone to her friend’s apartment, gathered anything and everything Stef might need, including the laptop. She’d also inquired about Fred, the misbehaving pooch—who it turned out was safe in the care of Stef’s dog sitter—and tried unsuccessfully to avoid the topic of Brad.

Not because she wanted to hide things.

Quite the opposite, actually. She was practically bubbling with joy and excitement and affection for the man.

But she wanted Brad to be just hers for a little while longer.

Then she’d do the adult thing and share.

Luckily, Stef’s doctor had come in before the interrogation had gotten too intense, but Heidi knew it wouldn’t be long before she got the fifth degree from multiple angles. Hell, Stef would probably join forces with Cora, Kate, and Kelsey and then it would be four against one.

And if she were being completely truthful, she couldn’t wait to share her happiness with her friends.

She’d hoped to go back to Brad’s afterward, to knock on his door—since he hadn’t had a set of hooks in his apartment with a labeled spare for her to pilfer, like she had at her place—but then she’d gotten pulled into the lab to double-check the calibrations so the assistant staff could be confident running everything.

That was supposed to have been a short visit—her goal of getting back to Brad still within reach.

But after she’d checked the equipment, made sure everything was ready to roll without her, she had run into the head of operations.

And then she’d become mean boss.

Or mean underling, she supposed, since she didn’t outrank him, though her lab was run outside of the normal management channels. Either way, she’d read him the riot act—professionally, of course—and by then the CEO