His Greed (Billionaire Blind Date Book 1) (2 page)

Bill—no, Grant—slipped his cell phone out of his pocket and thumbed the screen, his other hand still cupping my neck, thumb on my cheek.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Your date, Bill, is waiting for you inside the restaurant. He’s the tall, skinny one with sweat on his forehead. Blue shirt under a brown pullover, table on the right.”

I looked past him to see the man my Aunt Carla had actually set me up with. He looked much more like an accountant than the man touching me ever could.

“I was here keeping an eye on Richard when I overheard your Bill talking about the date his friend set him up with. His description to the server didn’t do you justice, my dear.” Grant lifted his gaze to me and slipped his phone back into his pocket. “He has
no idea
how fucking gorgeous you really are.”

I tried to suppress the shiver that laddered its way up my spine, because this was insane. “I don’t understand. Then who are you?”

“I’m Grant. I overheard him talking about his blind date. And when I saw you, I couldn’t bear to see your evening wasted on him when it could be spent with me.”

Sexy and flattering, or creepy? I think it skirted the line between them, but the throbbing between my legs kept screaming
sexy.

“So you just . . . lied?” I swallowed hard and leaned away from his hand, just barely. He dropped it, but stepped closer, too close, into my personal space, so much so that he had to look down at me.

“I never lied. Not once.” A corner of his mouth turned up. “I just didn’t correct you.” His hand brushed my elbow.

I thought back on the things he’d said to me, and he hadn’t lied. He’d never acknowledged anything I’d said as true, but had said something else instead. Clever.

“You lied by omission—it’s the same thing. And you outright lied to that man.  You said you weren’t spying on him, and then you said I was your girlfriend.”

He cupped both my elbows, our bodies brushing when I breathed too heavily. “I did not lie, Sophie. I didn’t say I wasn’t spying, just that he was paranoid. That’s true.”

“But I’m not your new girlfriend.”

“Aren’t you?”

When my mouth dropped open, he shook his head. “That one’s close, I’ll admit. I don’t do girlfriends, but you, Sophie . . . you’re about to be the next best thing.”

A long, black limousine pulled up to the curb a few feet away from where we stood. I caught it out of the corner of my eye, and still had a hard time pulling my gaze away from Grant’s dark, intense eyes. I was about to be the next best thing? What did that even mean?

He leaned too close, his lips brushing my cheek. Despite my discomfort at being lied to—or not corrected—I didn’t pull away from it.

“Let me take you to dinner.”

A man in a black suit got out of the limo and opened the door for us.

“I—I don’t even know you. The only thing I do know is that you have a curious relationship with the truth.”

He tossed his head back and laughed, and I’ll be damned if I didn’t imagine how it would feel to lick his throat.

“What a diplomatic way of putting it.” He lifted my chin with two fingers, the smile dropping from his face. “I haven’t lied to you, and I won’t. But if you’d rather spend the evening with Bill, feel free to go back into the restaurant.”

He dipped his head and pressed his lips against mine, his tongue bold and quick, slipping between my lips to slide back and forth. It was so slick and hot and intimate, I leaned forward, chasing his lips after he pulled away.

“Or you can be my date for the night, Sophie.” He pressed his lips against my ear, his chest touching mine, rubbing over the hard points of my nipples. “I’m the one who’s made you wet. At least give me a chance to follow through.”

God, how did he
know
? His tongue flicked my earlobe before he leaned back and took a step away, letting go of me completely. I glanced at the restaurant, Bill’s head visible in the window as he looked at a menu and then his phone, probably wondering if he’d been stood up.

Grant moved to stand in the open door of the limo. He held out his hand as he had when we’d left the restaurant.

Sorry, Bill. I’m sure you’re a nice guy.

“I’ll go to dinner with you,” I said, trying to regain some type of dignity and composure. “But just dinner, I won’t promise anything more.” I’d accused him of lying moments ago, and now I was the one saying things that probably weren’t true.

Grant nodded and gently pulled my hand, leading me into the limo first. He slid in next to me, leaving no room between us, his arm going behind my head. He crossed his legs and smiled at me.

“I’ve never been much for promises,” he said. “Most get broken in the end.” He took my nearest hand in his and rubbed his thumb over my knuckles.

“Chanti’s,” he said to the driver. “Find somewhere to park as close as possible, and I’ll let you know when we’re ready to go in.” Grant pushed a button on the ceiling. A panel between the front seat and the huge rear section where we sat slid up. Grant rubbed my shoulder and held my hand until we parked only a few minutes later.

The ceiling lights came on dimly, allowing Grant and I to see each other better, before the driver got out and walked away from the car.

“Where’s he going?” I asked, nearly stuttering over the words once I realized how private the back of the limo really was. The windows were tinted so that you couldn’t see in from the outside, but you could see out just fine.

“He’s going for a walk.”

I watched out the window as the driver disappeared down the sidewalk. The sun was completely down now, and people dressed to the nines walked past. Alone in a limo with a complete stranger, darkened windows . . . it could be a dangerous situation. But I didn’t feel threatened. A little niggle of doubt poked the back of my brain, telling me that this might be what people thought right before they were murdered.

Something about this man, though. The very slight sense of possible danger was a thrill, only because something deep inside me knew I was safe.

Still, anything could happen. Did I want it to?

Grant put his hand on my face, clasping my jaw gently between his thumb and fingers, and turned me toward him.

“I wanted some privacy.” He let go and stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers. “I wanted to find out why someone like you would agree to go on a blind date in the first place.”

“People go on blind dates all the time,” I said, my voice softer than I’d meant it to be.

“Someone as beautiful as you? I can’t understand that.” Grant leaned close, our faces almost so close I couldn’t focus on him. “You should have men knocking down your door.”

I laughed, and hoped it didn’t sound bitter. I did get asked out, but not by anyone I wanted to spend time with.

Grant smiled, his eyes dazzling me with how amused he seemed. “I would have been knocking it down, if I’d known you existed before tonight.” His hand rested on my thigh, just below the hem of my dress.

I wanted to let my legs part, to will his hand to curve down to cup my inner thigh and slide up, touch me, rub me.

“What did you hope would happen with Bill? That he’d take you back to his small apartment, offer you some cheap wine . . . make an awkward pass at you on his couch.” Grant’s hand did move up, slowly, pushing my dress with it.

“I didn’t want any of that,” I admitted.

He smirked. “Oh, you just wanted to meet a nice guy, is that it?”

“I needed a date for a wedding and hoped he’d take me.”

Grant’s hand stopped. He leaned back to look into my eyes. “A wedding date. That’s why you’re subjecting yourself to dating someone recommended by an aunt?”

“You don’t know my family. Show up at anything without a date, and you have to suffer through a dozen awkward introductions with single men and hear what a shame it is that you’re all alone in life.”

“You look like you can handle them.”

“I can. I just don’t want to.” I really didn’t, or I’d never have agreed to the date in the first place.

“Seems you won’t have a choice now.” Grant’s hand slid upward again, and he leaned in. “After standing up poor Bill, I doubt he’ll be too eager to be your escort. Of course, you could find someone else.”

“Three weeks, and it’s a very formal affair.”

Grant’s lips brushed my cheek. “That
is
short notice.”

How could I be thinking of being henpecked at my cousin’s wedding when Grant’s hand had almost reached its destination? His lips pressed against my neck, and I sighed. I couldn’t believe myself, letting a stranger go this far with me, this fast, but his nearness cast some sort of a spell over me. I couldn’t resist.

When his hand moved to my back and slid my zipper down, I shuddered. “Wait,” I gasped, leaning forward and putting my hand over the one on my thigh. “I—I’m not like this, just jump into a man’s car and—”

“And what?” Grant raised his eyebrow. “Fuck him?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I don’t just fall into bed with people.”

“We’re not in a bed.” The corner of his mouth turned up.

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I?” He leaned close. “Let me tell you what I know, Sophie. I know you were in for a date that would have been pedestrian and boring at best, and if you were really lucky you would have had to spurn poor Bill’s advances at the end of the night—or after your wedding date. Two evenings wasted on showing your harpy relatives that someone wants you, when instead you’re here with me during an evening that I most certainly don’t intend to waste.”

I barely managed to swallow. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

He chuckled. “Do I?”

“Stop answering my questions with questions.”

“Why?”

I glared at him, which only seemed to delight him more. He shook his head.

“The Bills of the world are fine, decent human beings who will take a single girl to a wedding to please her family and hope that they might at least get a blowjob out of the arrangement, but probably would never have the balls to ask for one. If that’s what you want, I can take you back to the restaurant where he’s probably texting your aunt and tapping his fingers on the table right now, embarrassed and disappointed, but still sitting there, waiting, because it’s a shot.”

His warm breath, carrying the light scent of scotch, washed across my face, my lips.

“I don’t wait, Sophie. I don’t have to. I have as many shots as I want, but I want you.” His lips brushed mine. “And I know you want me, too.” 

He leaned back to look at me. “Tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll take you back to Bill where your dinner will be on me.”

“I don’t want to go back,” I said, my tongue trying to stick to the roof of my mouth. I didn’t want Bill. I wanted this, but it was hard to admit to myself that I did. That I could be this easy.

“I know. I know what you want, and I’m going to give it to you.”

My mouth wasn’t dry anymore. It practically watered in anticipation of his mouth on mine.

“I’ll bet you’re soaked, Sophie. You’ll end up leaving a wet spot on your dress if you keep your panties on, won’t you? That’s how wet you are for me.” His hand slid up and pressed against the sopping fabric of my silky panties, and I gasped, nodding.

Grant groaned as his fingers pressed against the cloth. “You need it, don’t you?”

My zipper was down enough that Grant pulled my dress away from my body in front, freeing my breasts, the air tightening my nipples and sending a tendril of need right down to where his fingers slipped inside my panties and slid along my folds. A finger pressed inside me easily. I rocked my hips forward even though the intrusion felt strange.

“So wet . . . so tight, Sophie.”

“I haven’t—not really—”

“You’re a virgin?” Grant asked, his voice so low and deep it was almost a growl.

“Almost. I’ve done a few things, fingers, but—”

“Has anyone ever fucked you?” He frowned, as if impatient with my answer.

No one had ever asked such a thing so point blank. I took a deep breath and tried not to stammer. “No.”

His eyes darkened, and he sucked air in through flared nostrils. “That changes tonight,” he growled.

Two fingers pushed inside me, stretching me, and his thumb tapped my clit. My hips jerked with each touch. Grant sucked my nipple into his mouth and my back arched on its own, pressing my breast forward, offering myself to him.

His fingers thrust deeply, withdrew, stroking me from within, while his thumb beat a light rhythm of pleasure that rippled through my muscles.

“Come for me, Sophie,” he growled, and then bit down on my nipple as he sucked it.

A wave of bliss crashed over me as I came easier than I ever had in my life. My throat tightened as I cried out and clenched around the fingers wriggling deep inside me. I rode Grant’s hand, his thumb moving in a circle around my throbbing clit, wringing every last spasm from me.

His mouth moved to my neck. “Sophie,” he breathed, and then he sucked hard as he stroked me while I came down from the heights he’d taken me to. When he leaned back, he chuckled. “You look debauched, and I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

Yet.
That sent a thrill through my still recovering muscles. I’m sure I did look debauched, with my dress opened and pushed below my breasts, slid up to my hips, me leaning back in the seat with my butt on the edge, pressed forward against his hand.

His fingers slipped out of me, and he lifted his hand to my face. “Look out the window, Sophie. Look at them walking by. They have no idea I’ve just made you come like you’re in heat. Look at that man standing under the awning there.” He gestured with the shining fingers he’d just had deep inside me.

“Keep your eyes on him,” Grant ordered. Then he pressed his wet fingertips against my bottom lip. “Watch him while you taste yourself.”

He pressed, and I parted my lips to let the fingers in. He stroked the fingertips against my tongue.

With a growl back in his voice, he commanded, “Suck them like you’ll suck my cock.”