Billionaire Unmasked

By: J.S. Scott



“I am—” Hope clamped her mouth shut and took a deep breath, not finishing her comment. “I’m doing fine,” she finished more calmly. She averted her gaze away from Jason’s face.

“Are you really fine, Hope?” he asked fiercely, breaching the short distance between them to grasp her chin and force her to look at him. “Or are you feeling just as damn lost as I feel right now?” Jason knew his control was slipping, but he couldn’t bring himself to give a shit. Who watched out for Hope? She’d just split with her boyfriend. Was she heartbroken? Was she happy in Colorado? Why did she stay there if her relationship was finally over?

“I’m doing good,” she answered quietly and looked into his eyes this time.

“What about your ex-boyfriend? How can you be okay?”

She shot him a weak smile. “I think it was time. We just weren’t right for each other. I’ll get over it.” She paused. “What’s happening with you, Jason? Is something wrong? You seem…troubled.”

For some reason, the fact that Hope sounded like a concerned friend made him completely insane. “Nothing’s wrong, but I definitely have a problem.”

“What?” Hope asked gently.

“You,” he growled as he grasped her hand and pressed it against his throbbing erection. “I can’t stop wanting you. I’ve wanted you for what seems like forever. I can get on my goddamn jet and fly back to New York, but distance isn’t going to work anymore for me. I’ll be thinking about you anyway, getting myself off on fantasies of being so deep inside you that you can’t think about anything else but me.” He snaked his hand behind her neck and covered her mouth with his before she could say anything else, or deny the heat between them. He came completely unraveled as she straddled his lap, pushed him down to the carpet, and covered his body with hers. She fisted his hair and kissed him as if her life depended on it. Her tongue met his stroke for stroke, as if she had never felt physical desire before and had to have it—now that she’d discovered it.

He grasped her hips and pulled her heated core against his erection, cursing the denim that separated them. Her silky hair caressed his neck and fell like a curtain around them as they exchanged an embrace so desperate and needy that he groaned into her mouth.

Need. To. Be. Inside. Her. Now.

Finally, Hope tore her lips from his. “I think I have the same problem that you do,” she murmured breathlessly. She buried her face in his neck and ran her tongue over any bare flesh she could find.

“Jesus,” Jason rasped, stunned but euphoric that Hope was actually this raw and out of control. He kept her straddled over his lap while he sat up, grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt and pulled it over her head. With the front clasp of her bra released, he watched as her breasts sprang free: plump, ripe, and beautiful, the raspberry-colored nipples already pebbled with desire. “Beautiful.”

“Off.” Hope yanked at his sweatshirt.

He happily obliged. The garment went over his head quickly. Bare skin met bare skin, and he stroked his hands down her naked back.

I. Need. Her.

Jason lay back and took Hope with him. He flipped her onto her back, her body trapped beneath him; her legs wrapped around his waist. His cock throbbed as he looked at her face, her hair spread out wildly on the carpet, her eyes dark with passion.

“Jason, I—”

He thought he saw a flash of fear in her eyes as he covered her mouth with his finger to silence her. “Don’t speak, Hope. Don’t say no unless you really don’t want this.” He knew she did. She burned just as hotly as he did right now. He eased down and undid the button of her jeans, slid the zipper down and sat up to pull them down her shapely legs. Her panties went with them. “I have to taste you,” he rasped, needing to watch her go over the edge.

“How?” she whispered urgently.

Jason hovered above her. Her eyes lit up with anticipation and…confusion? “Christ. Haven’t you ever made love in any other way except fucking?” Her boyfriend must have been a jackass. How could he not have wanted to savor Hope?

“No,” she admitted softly. “Not really.”

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