Borrowed Billionaire #4 Under the Sea (4 page)

That first night in Indonesia, I slept for about a million years, woke up for a pee and a glass of water, and slept for another hour.

Finally, when I could sleep no more due to being hungry, I rolled out of bed. The bed itself was King-sized, and covered in modest, almost nubby sheets. The walls of the villa that weren't glass were painted bright white, and the ceiling was thick wood beams covered by a natural, woven material. A mosquito net hung from the ceiling above the bed, all tucked away, but I hadn't seen a need for it.

The interior doors were louvered for air flow, and the villa was indeed warm, but comfortable. I had a shower in the bathroom, which was a wet-style bathroom, with no wall around the shower, just milky-blue glass tiles on every surface.

After I got dressed in a lightweight wrap dress over my bikini, I put on some makeup and tidied all of my personal effects so Mr. Thorne wouldn't think I was messy. As a professional organizer by trade, you might assume I had travel-sized supplies of everything and a neat compartment-style makeup kit. You'd be right. I sure did. But I'm as prone as anyone else to spreading my junk everywhere and messing up a nice hotel room within minutes. There's just something about a pristine environment that makes our suitcases explode with exuberance, isn't there?

I straightened out the bed and thought about what might happen there that night. The idea of seeing Luthor Thorne made me tingle with excitement. He was so cute and funny that day he'd been up on his ladder outside his mansion, trying to pass himself off as a gardener. Then, at the dark restaurant, he'd been sweet, asking me about
my mother
, of all things, and listening as I talked about my day sorting collectibles, as though he was genuinely interested. Maybe he was interested, or maybe this was just about sex.

Perhaps, to him, I was like Mrs. Chong's precious limited edition porcelain figures. A possession. A thing of comfort.

I wondered if he'd left the restaurant so abruptly because it had evolved into something more than just sex. I really didn't know much about the guy, except that he had an amazing body, a gorgeous cock, and I enjoyed him ordering me around.

One day at a time. One
night
at a time.

I joined Simon and Suzanne for breakfast, and we made our way down to the dock and onto the boat for our welcome dive. The coral reef, called the
home reef
, was all around us, and we didn't need to take the boat anywhere for a dive, but the guides wanted to take us to a specific spot someone had requested.

Up until then, I'd figured the coral reef was homogenous, and you'd have pretty much the same critters everywhere, but someone on the boat requested a specific fish, and the guides wanted to take us to where we'd have a stronger chance of seeing one. The gentleman who'd made the request showed me a picture on his phone. The fish had really buggy eyes and a funny face. The guy's wife, on the other hand, only cared about “the fish from
Finding Nemo
,” and went on and on, calling it that instead of by its proper name, clown fish. Pretty soon, everyone on the boat was talking about “the
Finding Nemo
fish,” much to the annoyance of the diving guides.

I'd been diving before, but it had been a couple of years. Simon and Suzanne dove on their honeymoon, so they weren't nervous at all. As we put on the equipment, my heart started to thrum nervously. Everyone else on the boat that day was an old pro compared to me. A few of the guys had elaborate underwater camera equipment. They were as calm as people taking a bus to the mall.

Once I was in the water, though, my fears slipped away. Down we went, under the sea.

We swam past frilly things that looked like brains and other things that look like lettuce. We saw bobtail squid, pygmy seahorses, starfish, damselfish, yellow tang, and more. Then Nemo himself popped out from some coral—a whole bunch of Nemos,
as in clown fish
—and the group collectively lost their minds, with everyone waving and pointing.

The life down there was so rich and diverse, I felt like I was swimming inside a carefully curated aquarium. We'd been lectured and all taken a vow not to chase any creatures, grab at them, or even poke things. The coral was very delicate, and could easily be broken off by a careless gesture.

I got to one lovely spot on the reef and hovered there, waiting to see what type of fish or eel might swim by me next. Someone squeezed my calf, and I turned back, expecting to see Suzanne or Simon goofing around. It wasn't one of them, though, as the diving suit was a different color.

The diver was definitely a man, and as he got closer, as though trying to kiss me—not that it would be possible with all the equipment—I kicked him away. I assumed it was one of the guys from the boat, either mistaken that I was his wife, or mistaken that I
wasn't
his wife but would be open to a little underwater flirtation.

My diving buddy was nearby, gawking at pygmy seahorses and not paying much attention.

The stranger came toward me again, and this time I was angry. I let him come in, as I wanted a good look at his face, so I could identify him when back on board.

I found myself looking into the green-brown eyes of Luthor Thorne, who seemed a little terrified I might kick him in the nuts. To let him know I knew it was him, I waved one hand and gave him the peace sign. He did the same. It was hard to see his face through the mask and regulator, but he looked amused as hell. That was when I noticed the other boat in the water above us.

He took my hand in his and squeezed it, then waved for me to come with him. I waved to my diving buddy, and he shrugged and swam along with us.

Kicking my fins, I swam alongside Luthor Thorne. He was much more skilled at maneuvering in the water than I was, and showed off by circling around me, pausing just long enough to squeeze my butt or run a hand up between my legs.

When I caught up with him, I encircled one hand around his waist in the thick neoprene suit and grabbed at his crotch with the other hand—and not too gently, I might add. It was difficult to tell through all the layers, and I didn't know if the water pressure would allow arousal, but I noted a bulge.

He pulled away from me and led me and my diving buddy to a part of the reef we hadn't yet seen. There was a sound there, like crackling bacon. I thought my ears were playing tricks on me, but I learned after we surfaced that it was the sound of the coral munching on its food.

Here, the coral was every shade of pink and orange. As we held still, waiting, these feathery bits extended from the reef and undulated in the current. With a wave of his hand, they startled and withdrew once more.

All too soon, it was time to surface. We still had plenty of oxygen, but the guides had their safety rules.

We all surfaced, and I was glad to breathe normally again, though sad to leave the coral and everything beautiful below. As we climbed into the boat, where the staff was handing out juice boxes, I realized how thirsty I was.

I hadn't said a word to Luthor Thorne yet, and was waiting for him to make the first move.

He began by introducing himself to Suzanne and Simon. He sat beside me on the boat and threw his arm around my shoulder. Turning to me, he said, “I thought you were going to kick me in the nuts.”

“I thought you were some pervy old man.”

He raised his eyebrows and laughed. “I'm not old.”

Suzanne and Simon had a good laugh at that. Simon then thanked him for inviting them on our tropical date. As far as Simon knew, Luthor and I were dating, and he didn't know the whole thing had been arranged between Mr. Thorne and Suzanne, acting as my pimp.

I reached up and wiped water off the side of Luthor's face with my hand. He met my gaze with his hungry eyes, his cheeks looking almost hollow at that moment, and leaned in to kiss me. The kiss was electric, and I wanted it to go on forever, but we were pulled apart by the movement of the boat's engine, starting up to take us back to the villas.

There'd be another dive in a few hours if we were interested, plus we were welcome to toodle around the home reef around the resort, diving right off the dock. Luthor grabbed my hand and gave me a look that said he wanted to go back to the villa to “freshen up.”

We were kissing as we opened the door to the room, his hot lips on my mouth, my cheek, down my neck and across my throat.

I pulled open my wrap dress and his hands plunged in, stroking my back and reaching down into my bikini bottoms, gripping my cheeks and then picking me up.

I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me to the King-size bed.

He threw me on the bed and yanked off my bottoms, folded my legs up, and gave me a cracking-loud spank on the ass.

I was so stunned, I didn't know what to do. I lay there clutching my knees to my chest.

He stuck his face down into my pussy and gave me a thrusting lick. As the tip of his tongue feathered over my clit, setting everything ablaze, the feeling traveled down from my clit and mingled with the sting on my ass from the slap, turning everything into a throbbing hotness. I parted my legs, wide, to let him in. He hungrily lapped at me, stopping only to say, “Salty from the sea.”

“We could shower,” I said, breathing heavily.

He grunted,
no
.

I grabbed one of his hands and brought it to my mouth, to suck his fingers. They were salty from the sea, almost like sweat, but different. My mouth watered. I sucked harder on his fingers, and my pussy was in heaven, being licked and fingered by his other hand.

I wanted his cock in my mouth, though. I pulled him up, away from the heavenly things he was doing, and pushed him back on the bed. He was much stronger than me, but utterly willing to be pushed around like this.

He had on a white button-down shirt, loose-fitting for the tropics, and a pair of swim shorts with the most ridiculously loud jungle leaf pattern. I unbuttoned the shirt slowly and ran my fingertips over his hot skin. I licked his stomach, feeling taut muscles just under the skin. I straddled his legs and took my open wrap dress off, and my bikini top.

His eyes grew wide at the sight of my nipples, firm and pink like ripe raspberries. He tugged me down to him and sucked the top of one breast into his mouth, and then the other. He buried his face between them and kissed up, all the way to my collarbone.

I pulled away and traveled down, inch by inch, as though it was my mission to wash the sea salt off his body with my tongue. I kissed and sucked from his chin to his hard nipples and all over his chest, then down his stomach.

Inside the jungle-leaf shorts, his erection was straining and full engorged. I squeezed it through the shorts, tracing an outline. He moaned and thrust into my hand, eyes closed in ecstasy and desire.

I pulled at the drawstring to loosen the shorts, then gradually inched them down, revealing the tip first, giving it a kiss and a lick, and then the rest. Before I put him fully in my mouth, I teased up and down the sides of the shaft with my lips and tongue, breathing on him and running my hand up and down between his legs.

He was so calm, so willing to lie still and be fondled and caressed. I was surprised he wasn't barking orders, telling me to call him Mr. Thorne and all that kinky business. My butt cheek was still stinging from that one good slap, or was it? My whole body was tingling, anyway.

I tipped up his cock with one hand and sucked him into my mouth, applying a little more friction than he expected, because he convulsed under me, surprised.

I looked up at him through my eyelashes, bobbing up and down on that gorgeous cock of his, and he made eye contact and gave me a smile, his look changing from hungry to blissful.

With a little sea salt, his cock was delicious, though it would have been just fine unseasoned. It was a lovely piece of equipment, a magnificent tool, so hard and sturdy, yet covered in softness.

“Careful,” he said, grinning.

“Mm?” I kept sucking, but I knew what he meant. He was stiffening more, the sac pulling up in anticipation. Under my seat, his legs straightened and tensed. He held his breath, and when his penis began to pulse, he groaned and made a facial expression that was both hard and soft.