The Billionaire's Secret Wife (The Pryce Family Book 3) (Volume 3) (13 page)

“Isn’t partnership what you want though?”

“Yes,” she answered reflexively, then shook her head. “Maybe.” She huffed. After a moment, she added quietly, “I don’t know. I just wanted to do it on my own.”

That Justin could understand. Her family was wealthy and influential, and he bet it cast a long shadow everywhere she went. He didn’t see anything wrong with her wanting to be free of that. He’d always had the same desire himself.

He felt slightly bad about his role in her getting put on the “boring” work, but he couldn’t believe Highsmith hadn’t done a better job of spinning the work so it sounded ridiculously important. Like it was an
honor
to be on it.

Maybe he should have a quick conversation with the partner. Highsmith was to make sure Vanessa didn’t work too much, not piss her off by giving her scut work.

Their lunch arrived; Justin paid and brought it to the dining table. He’d ordered egg drop soup as well since she liked it, and settled down to decimate his Kung Pao chicken.

Vanessa chewed her pork. She seemed to have a good appetite now. Maybe the morning sickness the day before had been an aberration. Women threw up during pregnancy, but it couldn’t be optimal to lose one’s food when eating for two.

“Are you doing any work today?” she asked.

“No.” He’d cleared his calendar until Monday.

“What were you planning to do all day?”

“Oh, this and that.” He gave her a wicked smile. “Why?”

“Now that I can’t work, I don’t know what to do with myself.”

He chuckled. “I can think of a few things.” He washed down his chicken with Coke. “Actually, I was going to take a nice hot shower…while thinking about you.”

She raised an eyebrow like she wasn’t affected, but her eyes where darker now. “Is thinking all you were going to do?”

He winked. “I don’t fist and tell. But I’ll let you watch.”

She licked her lips. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

Chapter Twelve

Vanessa couldn’t believe how turned on she was at the idea that he masturbated while fantasizing about her. She was slick and tingly between her legs, like they hadn’t done the dirty-and-sweaty the night before.

Justin started the water in the shower. Her master bathroom had a separate shower stall encased in glass. He brought a stool in. “Sit.”

She plopped down. He stripped off his shirt. Her breath caught at the hard, rippling muscles on his back and torso. The bright light showcased all his masculine perfection. He got rid of his shorts and underwear, and she pulled her lips in at how hard he was already. Long and thick, his shaft stood up, the head of his cock so close to his flat stomach.

He strutted around, shamelessly flaunting his body. He was gorgeous, his movements gracefully economical, like an athlete in his prime.

With a grin, he went inside the stall. The water sluiced down his body in rivulets, tracing every line. He shampooed his thick dark hair, and white suds skimmed down his strong back. He grabbed a bar of soap and ran it over his body.

“I think of you all the time, constantly.” His voice was low but clear over the sound of running water. “You come to me at the most inopportune moments at times, but it always makes me happy to think of you.”

One big, strong hand wrapped around his shaft, and Vanessa forgot to breathe. She’d never considered herself very visual or a Peeping Jane, but watching Justin start to pleasure himself with his eyes on her made her go instantly wet.

The water droplets beaded on the glass, and the steam fogged it, making it harder to see him, but it didn’t matter. It only added to the surreal sexiness.

“Take off your shirt,” he said, as his fist moved slowly up and down. “Let me see you.”

Keeping her eyes on him, she took it off. At his rough intake of breath, she grew bolder and undid the front clasp of her bra and let it slide down her arms and fall.

“Jesus.”

“I want to see you come, Justin,” Vanessa said, her mouth dry. She couldn’t believe how brazen she was—completely out of character. But it was so freeing to watch him hard like this for her.

His ass tightened as he pumped into his fist, his eyes on her. “Play with your tits,” he said, his voice rough. “Imagine it’s my hands on you.
Now
.”

She cupped her bare breasts. They were fuller than before and more sensitive. She grazed the pointed nubs with her thumbs and gasped as an electric sensation shot through her, leaving her tingling all over. She pressed her legs together, feeling the aching emptiness there.

“Fondle them the way I would,” he said, his thrusts faster now.

Swallowing hard, she remembered the way he liked to play with her breasts, shaping them, testing their softness and teasing their tips until she moaned and writhed underneath him. It felt ten times naughtier to do it to herself while Justin watched. Her hands were softer and smaller than Justin’s, but the effect was the same. Maybe it was the intensity of his gaze as it followed her hands; she felt branded to the core.

“Slip your hand inside your panties and play with yourself. Put your fingers inside yourself and pretend it’s my cock fucking you.”

Beyond caring now, she did as he asked. Her clit was so wet and swollen, and she was so primed it was easy to slip two fingers in. He cursed and whispered dark encouragements. “Yes, baby, that’s it. Make yourself feel so fucking good.”

She watched him through slitted eyes. He was close, she could tell. But he was holding back, his formidable control not letting him go. The plump head peeked out every time his fist pumped, and she licked her lips at how it glistened.

“God, I wish I was doing this with your cock in my mouth,” she said.

Justin’s face twisted as his control shattered. He shouted as he ejaculated in a long, ropey spurt. She watched it, absolutely mesmerized at the way pleasure tightened his face. His hand on the wall fisted, and he rested his head against the foggy glass, his eyes on her.

A moment later, he straightened and turned off the water. The glass door opened, and he came out, water beaded on his skin. “You haven’t come yet.”

“No.” Her hand was still between her legs, but she hadn’t done anything to push herself over the edge. She’d been too enthralled by his performance.

He pulled her up, getting water on her bare torso. She moaned as his chest rubbed against her nipples. It was incredible to have him on her like this. He unbuckled her shorts and dragged them and her underwear off in one impatient movement. He took her wrist and brought her wet hand to his mouth and sucked the juices off her fingers. “You taste amazing.”

With a jerk, he perched her at the edge of the double vanity. The marble was cold against her heated skin. He dropped to his knees before her and inhaled her scent. “I can never get enough of you.”

He pushed her thighs wide and breathed gently over the slick, pink flesh. “You’re too damn hot.” He buried his face between her legs and feasted on her, his mouth ravenous. Pleasure spread through her, and her toes curled. She threw her head back, her fingers buried in his wet hair. The man was irresistible, his lips and tongue and teeth always knowing exactly what she needed the most.

Ecstasy coiled inside her, and she clenched her teeth to contain a groan. A sheen of sweat covered her, and she became desperate, so close to what she wanted.

He sucked on her clit hard, pushing three fingers inside her. The invasion was nothing like her smaller and more delicate digits.

“I’m coming,” she moaned.

His response was to pump his fingers faster and suck even harder on her clit. She screamed his name as an orgasm seared its way through her. Her nerve endings felt fried; she couldn’t have remembered her name as Justin licked and kissed her on the way back down.

“Oh wow…” She fell forward and her hands gripped his shoulders as the bathroom spun. She blinked a few times. What was that about?

“Are you okay?” he peered at her.

“I’m fine. Just a great orgasm.” She laughed, unwilling to ruin the moment. The momentary dizziness was probably nothing. “So what else are you planning to do now that you’ve showered?”

His grin was pure wickedness. “Why don’t I show you?”

* * *

Justin rolled his shoulders after replying to his marketing department’s latest proposal with a large red exclamation mark. Maybe it would’ve been easier to hire monkeys to do their job because that was about the level of deliverables coming from them. They were scared of screwing up—he got that. But he hadn’t hired them to copy what everyone else was doing.

Hopefully his response would generate the results he wanted. If not, he had no problem replacing the entire department. He’d done it once already, with another department, and he could do it again. Nobody was irreplaceable.

He plowed through the rest of the initiatives and proposals. He couldn’t wait to wrap up everything so he could fly to L.A. The previous seven weeks had been some of the best of his life. Who would’ve thought marriage would agree with him so perfectly?

“Sir, your brother’s here,” came Rita’s voice over the intercom.

“Send him in.”

Nate was a couple of years younger than Justin, but he’d never shown any interest in running Sterling & Wilson. If there had been even a hint of such interest, Barron would’ve plucked him out of his happy life and molded him into what he considered to be “executive material.”

Nate appeared in an expensive shirt and slacks. He dressed with more care when he visited Sterling & Wilson, apparently to maintain the image Barron wanted of him. Justin leaned back in his seat. “What’s up?”

“What I was gonna ask you.” Nate took a seat. “What
are
you up to these days?”

“Busy. You know.”

“Hmm. Yeah. With the sudden relocation to San Francisco and all. You hate the city.”

“I get tired of the weather in Chicago.”

Nate snorted. “Yeah, right. If you liked it any colder and nastier you’d be a penguin.”

“Okay. Which one of them have been whining to you?”

“All of them.” Nate sighed. “I don’t know why they think I can influence you in any way. They’re better off begging Barron.”

Justin scowled. The executives trying to figure out whether they should please Barron or him were annoying as hell. Barron was in Maryland full-time now. That meant it was Justin who was in charge.

It might have been easier if Barron had made his retirement official, but that old dog hadn’t done that yet. If he’d been a petty man, Justin might have thought his great-uncle was delaying on purpose. But most likely Barron just didn’t think it mattered—that it was the executives’ job to figure out who was in charge and behave accordingly.

“But I’m not really worried about the executives,” Nate said. “I’m wondering why you’re flying to L.A. every night.”

“Are you stalking me?”

“Ha. No, I read the auditors’ report and talked to your pilot. You know we have a corporate penthouse in the city, right?”

Justin scowled. He hadn’t expected his pilot to talk, but then again he hadn’t bothered to swear the man to secrecy. A mistake he wouldn’t make again. “Got things to do in L.A.”

Nate chortled. “Things, or a girl? She must be super hot to have you flying out every night. I don’t remember you acting this bad, not even with Vanessa.” He knew about Justin’s on-and-off relationship with her. “And V’s hot with a capital H.”

Justin tried for a bland expression. Telling his brother to watch his mouth wouldn’t do any good, and he’d promised to keep the marriage quiet until July. “You know, I actually do have work to do. Why don’t you go visit Kerri? See how she is? She’s pregnant, you know.”

“Oh yeah, I know. Don’t worry, she’s doing fine. She has Ethan, the prototypical over-protective husband, plus her sister- and mother-in-law fawning over her. Barron, too.”

“I almost feel sorry for her,” Justin said. “Barron must be impossible to deal with.”

“I think Ethan’s doing a pretty good job of handling him.” Nate tapped his lip. “It’s going to be you next, you know.”

“Me?”

“Baby.”

Justin narrowed his eyes, wondering if Nate suspected something.

“You’re the Heir Apparent, so it’s your duty, hahaha. Barron’s already muttering about it. Carry on the family legacy, and all that. I’m not interested, of course. Gonna be single forever and leech off my inheritance.” Nate smiled like a cat with a bowl of fresh cream. “Anyway, I’m leaving now. Got a party to catch.”

Which explained why he was in San Francisco.

“And if you want to keep your little affair a secret,” Nate leaned in from the doorway and affected a stage whisper, “you might not want to expense the trips.” He left, waving a hand.

Justin cursed. Rita generally took care of his expenses—personal and otherwise—and she’d probably assumed his trips to L.A. were work-related. Besides, her default mode when it came to his expenses was to assign them to Sterling & Wilson. He made a mental note to talk to her about that. Hopefully Barron was too distracted to read the auditors’ report carefully. He didn’t want his great-uncle wondering what he was up to.

* * *

“So tell me how you have the time to join us for yoga,” Hilary asked, doing a final stretch on her mat. Sweat from the session glistened on her skin.

Jane nodded. “Yeah. I thought you were the career-minded one.”

“Oh, I am.” Vanessa sat up. “But now I’m on strict orders not to work more than forty hours a week. And everyone at the firm hates me.” Well, not quite everyone, but it was pretty close. And the feeling wasn’t always hate. Many of them pitied her, convinced she was going to get screwed in July. She shared the sentiment, despite what John had said.

“Why can’t you work overtime?” Hilary asked.

“No idea.” But the work had gotten a bit more challenging. Now she was writing a series of articles on some of the finer points of sexual harassment.

“That’s weird,” Jane said. “But Iain told me you work too much, so maybe your firm is trying to help you not burn out.”

“Hah. It is to laugh. Believe me, Highsmith, Dickson and Associates doesn’t care about burned-out associates.” Any associate who burned out was welcome to leave. If they didn’t leave on their own, the firm “counseled them out”—a nicer term to describe a pink slip.