Captivating You (How to Marry a Billionaire #2)

Episode 69

EPISODE 69

SLOW COMFORTABLE SCREW

Emily

I wake up, turn to snuggle up to River and?—

I jerk upward in bed. The arsehole sneaked away after our morning fuck.

I rise and traipse into the bathroom, naked, and gaze at my face in the mirror. My lips are swollen and puffy from our kisses, and my breasts and nipples ruddy from River’s attention. My hair is a mass of tangles since I didn’t comb it after our shower last night. I grab a brush, work through it, and then pull it back with a band into a high ponytail.

A run is what I need—a fresh start for a new day. I can still feel River’s mouth on my skin, and thoughts about the time we’ve spent have gotten under my skin. Just as well that he’s gone this morning. I can’t get too infatuated with the gorgeous cowpoke, no matter how hot a lover he is.

And my God, he’s a bloody amazing lover.

Yeah. I need that barefoot run in the sand.

My family spent several summers in East Sussex when I was a child. I spent many happy hours on Camber Sands Beach, which stretches for several miles. During my teens, I took up early morning beach running. I enjoyed the increased resistance then, and the toned legs it provided. Now I love it because the softer surface is easier on my joints. Win-win.

I throw on a sports bra and running shorts, slide into my flip-flops, grab my water bottle, and leave my suite. I stop in the kitchen to fill up the bottle when I spy Zion—lovely dick on that one—and some of the others setting up for the day.

I smile and wave at them. I do love it here on this island, living in this decadent mansion. I could get used to it so easily. Living on a ranch in Montana?

Good lord, no.

Why am I even letting my mind go there? Damn River, anyway, for being so bloody perfect except for his location.

But my thoughts are getting ahead of me.

I’m here for a reason, and I need to remember it.

Once my water bottle is full, I trek out to the beach. The sun has risen but is still low in the east.

Damn. I forgot sunscreen. It’s a must for my fair skin. I don’t want to go back in, though, so it will have to be a shorter run this morning. I reach the beach, kick off my flip-flops, and run toward the ocean.

It’s blue and sparkling, and the waves beckon me. I bound toward them, getting my ankles wet, and then I move away from the shore to the drier sand, following the water as the softness of the sand yields under my soles, such a stark contrast to running on the pavement in the city or even on the grasses of Central Park.

Normally I would have earbuds in, but this morning I listen to the glorious waves crashing gently, the morning calls of the birds overhead—a symphony of the sea. The ocean breeze drifts over me, and occasionally a spray of saltwater refreshes my skin. I adjust my pace, syncing my breath with the steady rhythm of my strides, feeling a sense of freedom and connection to the natural world around me.

The heat of the sun reminds me of the sunburn that will follow if I’m not careful, so after about two miles, I slow down and run back to where I started, chugging water from my bottle and squirting it onto my face as I go.

Panting, I drop to the sand and drink the remainder of my water. I feel less connected to the sweaty tangle of River’s thick thighs between mine. To the memories of our bodies knitted together in sleep.

As my head clears, I realize I’m ready for coffee and a shower. I need both badly.

I walk toward the mansion, stopping at the pool house. There is dry clothing in my locker. Perfection. No one is here, so I head straight to the shower, wash up, and then walk naked out to the hot tub for a dip.

“Oh!” I gasp.

The hot tub is no longer empty.

Brett sits on the edge, dangling his feet in the bubbling water. He’s wearing light-blue trunks. A large glass of orange juice sits next to him.

He looks up. “Good morning,” he says.

“Hello.” I resist the urge to cover myself. He was with Ariel, Ginger, Rachel, and me the first night while we were in the tub, so he’s already seen my tits right here as well as on the dance floor. “I didn’t realize anyone else was here.”

“Just got here. Is that a problem?”

“Of course not. I went on a beach run, and I thought a hot tub would be heavenly.”

“Help yourself.” He gestures to the steaming water.

“Aren’t you going to get in?” I ask.

“Yup.” He slides into the tub.

I sit on the edge next to him, eyeing the orange juice. “That looks delicious. May I steal a sip?”

He nods, leaning back. “Knock yourself out.”

I pick up the glass and bring it to my lips. It is indeed delicious, but it’s more than orange juice. It’s a screwdriver—except it’s not. There’s a distinct taste of bourbon.

“It can’t even be eight o’clock yet, Brett,” I say. “What the hell is this?”

He smiles. “It’s a slow comfortable screw.”

“And that is...”

“OJ, southern-style bourbon, and sloe gin.”

“Seems a little off-brand for you, doesn’t it?”

“It’s been a night,” he says. “Hell, it’s been only two days, and it feels like almost a lifetime.”

He’s not wrong.

“Would you be more comfortable if I put a bathing suit on?” I ask. “You know, seeing as you’re not naked.”

He laughs then—a big, bellowing laugh—which is completely contrary to his demeanor only a moment ago. “You’re kidding, right? Cover up that gorgeous body? I don’t think so, Emily. You’re a feast for the eyes. In fact...I’d love to see more of you.”

I take another sip of his drink, set it down, and slide into the tub next to him. “I’m not sure what more of me you could see,” I say. “I’m naked as the day I was born, as you can well perceive.”

He turns to me, his blue eyes narrowed. “You could spread your legs. Let me see that hot pussy.”

My skin heats—and not from the warm bubbling water. “Do you plan on putting on goggles and a snorkel, then? Looking at me underwater?”

He strokes my shoulder. “No. I want you to sit on the edge of the tub across from me. I want you to spread those beautiful legs, Emily, and I want you to stroke yourself. Make yourself come.”

Lord. The way my body reacts to Brett’s fingers caressing my skin, it’s like I didn’t just have a night of orgasms with River. “You can’t be serious. People are getting up. Anyone could walk in here.”

“And that’s a problem because...”

“It’s a problem because I don’t relish the idea of exposing myself to all the hordes of people here. It’s not just you men and the women. It’s the staff members, the?—”

“Seems you didn’t have any issue exposing yourself to a certain staff member yesterday afternoon.”

Blast it! He knows about Zion? Of course he does. He knows everything that goes on here.

“Listen, I?—”

“Emily, it’s not a problem. We want you ladies to have fun. And right now, I know you’d have a lot of fun if you do as I ask. I want to watch you play with yourself. I want to watch you come.”

Of course I’d have fun. Who wouldn’t? But I’d prefer a bit more privacy.

I’m about ready to tell him to sod off, but the look in his eyes makes me pause. He’s beautifully handsome, of course, and his gaze glints with seductive persuasion, but I see something else as well.

It’s... Is it a touch of sadness? Remorse?

I’m not wholly sure, but in that moment I want to do this for him—and not just because the idea is a total turn-on.

I want to do it because I feel he needs it. Of course, that’s not the only reason. After everything I’ve shared with River, I need it as well. Something purely fun and physical.

I climb out of the tub, situate myself on a folded towel across from Brett, and spread my legs, dangling my feet in the water.

He sucks in a breath. “Beautiful.”

I close my eyes, trail one hand over my left breast while I moisten the fingers of the other in my mouth, and then slide them between my legs.

A few strokes of my clit and I’m wet and ready, especially knowing that Brett is watching me.

“Yeah, baby...” he groans.

I open my eyes. His eyelids are heavy, and he’s stroking himself inside his trunks.

Fuck, it’s hot.

My pussy is still sore from all the sexual acrobatics with River, but I can’t help but imagine what Brett’s cock looks like. I saw him naked on the catamaran yesterday, and he was lovely indeed, but to see him fully erect...

Just the thought has me shuddering. I work my clit more ferociously while I twist my nipple with the other hand.

In mere seconds, I’m ready to glide off the precipice.

“That’s it, Emily...” Brett’s voice is dark. “Come. Make that hot little pussy come...”

I shatter.

Implode inside my body. It’s less intense than being with River, but it seems to be what Brett and I both need in this moment.

When the contractions die down, I slide into the water and face him. “Well?”

“You’re beautiful, Emily,” he says. “So damned hot. Are you ready for a slow comfortable screw?”

“Are you talking about the cocktail or something else?” I ask.

“Come here,” he says, moving his lips toward mine.

“What the hell’s going on here?”

I jerk at the masculine—and all too familiar—voice.