Billionaire Brothers 2 : Love Has A Name (23 page)

“Morning, beauts,” he sexily said as he grabbed me and spun me to face him.

I didn’t get a chance to reply because his mouth was on mine in the same second, his tongue tasting of my favorite
Aquafresh
toothpaste. I was supposed to be upset with him, but I could never help it when he touched me: what was new?

I arched into him and locked my hands around his neck, pulling him down to kiss me deeper, surprising myself at how much I hungered for him. Last night I’d really wanted him; I was excited when he came. But his exhaustion had sent my libido to the back of the waiting line. Now he was fresh and rejuvenated, and I no longer wanted him, but
needed
him. The kettle chose that moment to start whistling, knocking us apart.

“Morning to you, too.” Extricating myself from his arms, I went to the stove and removed the kettle. “You drink tea?”

Lovello made a face that made me laugh. “Heck, no.”

“Well you’re screwed, because I don’t drink coffee, so I don’t have even a coffee-maker.”

He rounded the island and sat down on a stool at the breakfast bar, giving me an odd look. What’s he thinking? “That’s okay. OJ will be fine.”

I placed a full plate before him, then belatedly asked, “You like your eggs scrambled, right?”

“Scrambled or perfectly fried, yes. Boiled or as omelette, no.”

As I poured him a glass of orange juice I thought out loud, “What’s wrong with boiled eggs? I absolutely love boiled eggs. It’s the healthiest way to eat them.”

He plucked a blueberry in his mouth and shrugged. “I don’t care if it’s healthy, boiled eggs taste disgusting.”

I laughed and I dunked a tea bag of
Yogi green tea
in my mug. Men are so weird. “I’m with you on the omelette, though. It’s scrambled, poached or boiled for me.”

“Poached?” Lovello scrunched his face in disgust, pausing mid-chew. “That’s worse than boiled eggs.”

I went to sit beside him with my plate, laughing. “Healthy, Pretty Boy, healthy.”

“What’s that?”

Halting the mug midway to my mouth, I raised a questioning eyebrow. “What’s what?”

He flicked his finger at the note dangling alongside my mug while biting into a strawberry.

“Oh. These tea bags come with little notes. Kinda like a thought for the day.”

Taking the dangling note between his fingers, he read, “
The heart sees deeper than the eye
.” He raised a brow at me.

“What? It’s not my words, it’s the tea bag’s.”

“Just think it’s an interesting thought for the day, is all.”

Tossing my eyes to the heavens, I sipped at my tea, watching him grinning an odd grin at me. It was good to see that his face had regained its usual spark and brightness. Last night he’d looked horrible.

I stared back at him now, thinking about how much I actually liked this man. And then my smile died. The word ‘jealous’ has never been of frequent use in my vocabulary, if at all. Neither was it an emotion I was familiar with. I never had to use it because I never had to be jealous of anyone. With the types of relationships I engaged in, I had control of what my ‘sub’ did. Not even when Zane broke up with me for Tatiana did I ever feel jealous of her. I was just angry at
him
.

But it wasn’t like that with Lovello. He was his own recalcitrant person and I couldn’t tell him what to do. Neither did I feel the compulsion to do so. Especially while I was insisting I wanted nothing more than sex with him. That would be unfair to him. But I couldn’t ignore the sharp sting of jealously I felt when I heard him in the guest room earlier.

“What is it, Axia?” Lovello asked when he noticed I’d grown quiet.

“What’s what?”

“You’ve gone quiet on me.”

I forked a mouthful of egg in my mouth and mumbled, “Nothing.”

Lovello peered at me over the rim of his glass as he took a sip of his orange juice. “You’re bullshitting. Tell me, what is it?”

Setting my fork down, I turned to face him dead on and gave him an austere stare. “Mr. Nelson, you’re free to do whatever you want and whomever you want. But whenever you’re here, please don’t be sneaking into rooms to call your … women. I’m sure you can wait until after you leave to do that.”

Pretty Boy Nelson shifted on the stool, tilting his head to the side as he gazed at me in thought, double lines forming between his brows. “What’re you talking about?”

“Oh dear God! Please, I’m so not doing this with you: some stupid argument where I confront you and you lie about it as if we’re some lame-ass married couple where I’m a jealous and paranoid wife and you’re a pathological liar!” I shot up from my stool and grabbed my plate of half-eaten food.

Why the hell am I so angry?
What the
hell
is going on with me?
Yet, though this behavior’s nowhere near my true character, I couldn’t seem to control myself. “This is why I don’t do this shit. I don’t
care
, Lovello, so there’s no need for you to lie about a stupid phone call. All I’m saying is, have a little
respect
when you’re here, or don’t freakin’ come around. That’s all.”

Having a sudden loss of appetite — and self-control — I dunked the food from my plate in the bin, then tossed the dish in the sink.

Lovello was staring at me as if I were a crazy woman, shocked, no doubt, at my uncharacteristic outburst. “Axia, forgive me, but I still don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t see how I could’ve called anyone when I don’t even know where my phone is. I think I left it in the car.” He mused the latter.

I folded my arms and shook my head. Did he have a sufferance of
extreme
short-term memory or was he trying to make me seem like an imbecile? “Lovello Pretty Boy Nelson,” I began in a patient, slow-paced tone. “Where were you and what were you doing within the last half-hour before you came to the kitchen?”

“I was upstairs in your guestroo —” he stopped mid-sentence and slapped a palm to his forehead, laughing and wagging his head. “Ah, you must’ve heard me praying and thought … At seven in the morning, Axia? Really?”

He prays? This sonuvabitch?
“Praying?” I asked in an incredulous tone.

Still wagging his head and laughing at me, he stood up from the bar stool and came around the breakfast bar to stand in front of me. “Yes, Axia.
Praying.
I’ve been up since six this morning to do my daily devotion. Had to dig down the place to find that old Bible you got in high school.”

Now I felt like an idiot. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that you…”

“Every morning. Can’t start my day unless I do. Whenever I don’t, my day tends to turn out shitty.” He pulled me in his arms and tilted my chin to look me in the eyes. “I’m not as bad as people say I am. I believe there’s a powerful, benevolent and loving God who’s made me this fortunate. And it’s
imperative
that I show Him my appreciation and acknowledgment.” A smile tugged at his lips which then formed into a smirk. “So, do you have a problem with me talking to Him whenever I’m here, too?”

I narrowed my eyes at him and smacked his chest, feeling too abashed to speak.

Chuckling, he lifted me up and set me on the countertop. “You really don’t care whatever or whomever I do?”

A burning feeling, other than jealously or anger, made an invasion into my hormones, and it didn’t lend me any inclination to converse. Licking my lips in a wanton-like manner, I pulled the ties of the robe and shoved it down his shoulders. “No. I don’t.”

He shook his arms so that the robe fell to the floor, and there he stood, wonderfully, gloriously, deliciously naked before me.
Wow.
Savior in heaven, the man was beautiful beyond comparison, from head to toe.

“So you’re saying you
don’t
have a problem with me being with someone else other than you?” A deep frown marred his features but I didn’t care, there was only one thing on my mind at that moment.

Locking my legs around his waist, I pulled him towards me. “Correct.”

I dug my fingers in his shabby hair and pulled his face down to mine, claiming his mouth with desperate need. Lovello smoothed his hands up my thighs, pausing on my ass to squeeze on a moan as he flexed his hips into me — his grand erection already pointing. Trailing his hands up my back, he grasped the hem of my top and pulled it over my head while I dashed feverish kisses everywhere my lips could reach, writhing with impatience. Jeesh, I was addicted to the man.

Lowering his head, he took a puckered nipple in his mouth, evoking a drawling moan from me. He was slow and deliberate, taking his time to divide his love between both breasts, groaning as he did, which sent shivers through my veins. By the time his fingers dipped inside my boy-shorts, I was slippery wet. Lovello drew a shaky breath when he realized just how much I needed him. He brought his lips back to mine as his thumb made circles over my bud. When he thrust two fingers inside me, I gripped his biceps and moaned. Loud. Everything about his touch made me wild.

His tongue trailed from the base of my neck, up my throat, nipping at my cheeks with small bites, nibbling at my ear, while driving my lower half wild with his expert fingers. Lady Orgasm began crawling towards me with long-nailed fingers, but I didn’t want her to. I wanted this to go on forever. Lovello was
the
guy. His touch was
the
touch. His kiss was
the
kiss. Please, Lady Orgasm, don’t end this yet.

“Lift, beauts,” Lovello whispered, pulling his fingers from me.

Bracing my hands on the countertop, I lifted my hips so he could pull my boy-shorts off. His slate-grays blazed with concupiscence as they wandered over my nude body. His thick, venous manhood was arrowed directly at my center. Big and frightening, but downright beautiful.

Lovello gave a frustrated grunt. “Beauts, I want inside you this instant, but my records are in the car.”

Tightening my legs around his waist, I jerked him forward so that his shaft was nudging at my entrance. Hell, I was quivering. “Do I look like I give a shit? Make the grand entrance, Pretty Boy, before I freakin’ explode!”

Lovello bit down on his lip to smother a smile, then made a circle of his hips so that his head teased my entrance, causing me to release a miserable moan. Again he did it, not entering but teasing, his eyes illuminated with mischievousness. The man simply enjoyed making me miserable. Again and again, he circled and circled, teasing me into frustration. Just when I was about to yell something nasty at him, he sent himself home.

Hard.

All. The.Way. Home.

“Jesús Cristo!” I cried out, so loud that I heard Timo rushing down the hall, barking in anger. He ran into the kitchen before Lovello could move again, and began baring his teeth at my lover. This was so damn awkward, my dog watching me butt-naked and squirming with Lovello buried deep inside me.

“Timo, go,” I said. But Timo rushed to bite Lovello’s ankle and he narrowed his eyes.

“If you bite me again, you little piece of shit, I’ll bury you alive,” Lovello gritted out, frustrated that our pleasure time was being disrupted.

Timo cowered back, but was still baring his teeth.

“Out, Timo. Now!” I yelled. He whimpered, then backed out of the kitchen.

“Sonuvabitch bit me this morning,” Lovello said grumpily. “Now where were we? … oh, yeah, right
here
.” He flexed his hips inward and I mewled instead of defending my dog.

His big, powerful size filled me to capacity and I knew I was in for a turbulent, womb-rocking morning, because this time he was in control. And he was making sure I felt
all
of him.

He reared back then lunged forward, knocking another cry from me. Oh God, this was going to be a bumpy ride to Orgasm Land. I lay back on the counter and gripped the edges, bracing myself for the ride that was to start right … about … now. And he was off, hard but steady, painful but pleasurable. The man was on a mission and he was dragging me there with him. As he pounded on and on, breathing incoherent mumblings, beads of sweat sprouted on his forehead and his chest. “You’re … you’re incredibly … tight. Shit, I can’t slow down.”

Thirteen months of no sex will do that to a gal. Along with daily repetitions of kegels.

The man felt so darn good moving inside me, I felt like I was in my own nirvana riding on the clouds. I wished he would never slow down, I wished he would never stop, because this was unbelievably good. Him possessing my body wholly and completely just felt right.

Abruptly, he stopped and pulled out. “Sit up, beauts.”

That I did.

He grasped my legs and bent them so that they rested firmly on the edge of the counter, then pushed them wide apart. So there I was, sitting wide and open in front of him, panting, while he gazed at me with dark, tempestuous eyes.