The Boss and Her Billionaire (9 page)

That was the professional thing to do. She was not doing it, she reassured herself, because she wanted him to like her.

“Just like that?”

“I’ll take you out of the children’s club.”

“Oh.” His face fell, confusing Michaela. Wasn’t she doing exactly what he’d just asked?

“It’s just that I really like the kids. There are a couple who look just like my nephews. They always remind me how to play properly.”

Michaela fought hard to keep her surprise from showing. When she’d first started on the cruise ships, she’d loved being igned to help out with the kids’ club for that very same reason. She’d forgotten about the feeling, putting that part of herself away as she’d risen through the ranks and started needing to appear more official.

From under her eyelashes, she saw Dylan gaze down at her.

“Knowing how to play is very important, wouldn’t you say?” Something dark and dirty rumbled in his

voice. How could one man be so open one minute and then so…so filthy sexy? Could she…could she

maybe practice the making babies part with him?

Dear God, had she just thought that? Imagine what Felicity would say. What was wrong with her

resolve?

Her pause must have convinced him to retreat to safer waters. “You have kids?” he asked.

She steeled herself to be professional, but she found she wanted to reply honestly, as she always

seemed to with him. “I haven’t had the time to think about a relationship that might include children yet. It’s been a pretty hard slog to get here.”

“I know. Women have a hard job getting to the top and staying there. It’s still pretty rare to find a woman at the head of a big multinational—or—” He seemed to stutter. “—or so I hear.”

There he went again with his empathetic comments. There had to be a catch. Apart, of course, from the obvious fact that he was part of her staff, was completely inappropriate with his kisses, and would

probably never earn enough money to keep his children in diapers.

But he wasn’t strictly a member of her staff. He didn’t work in her office—he was really on George’s

team.

And George works for you. Stop it.

Oblivious to her internal dialogue, he continued, “So no man has ever tried to convince you to leave all this and have kids?”

“No one has even got close. My career is my priority, but…I don’t know. The biological reality is starting to close in. Even after I have kids, though, I want to keep my career going. I just don’t know what my next step would be after this.”

Shut up. He doesn’t need to know all this.

“You can’t be that old? Sorry, I guess I’ve asked you a couple of times, I’m just curious. How old are you?”

He was definitely turning the charm on, and she couldn’t help feeling flattered. Michaela suppressed a smile. No way did he really think she was in her early twenties, but it was nice to be flirted with for a change. She’d almost forgotten what it felt like.

“I’m older than you,” she said.

His eyebrows shot up. “Get out.”“Thirty-four.”

“Really? Man, you don’t look it, even with all the stress of this job. You must have good genes.”

“Must do,” she said in a dry tone.

“It’s strange how it’s so acceptable for women to be with older men, but society is less easy when it’s the other way round. I guess it’s got something to do with women maturing faster than men. An older

man is on a more equal footing with a younger woman.” He said it smoothly, and instead of being

annoyed at him spinning her a line, she was once again flattered that his attention brought with it more than just the superficial chatter she’d come to expect from her staff.

As he spoke, Dylan seemed to slide closer along the theater couch toward her. Michaela tried to move

away to keep a professional distance, but she was already at the edge of the couch, and the armrest

blocked her escape.

“I don’t think it’s really about who matures faster,” she said quickly. “I’ve met plenty of older men who are completely immature and some younger ones who seem to have more of a complete grasp on life

than I do. I guess it’s just about life experience.”

She wondered about Dylan’s life experiences. Being a dancer for years must have been interesting, if

nothing else. All those beautiful women, their bodies finely tuned, their lives just one performance after another. They danced in front of her, and Dylan lifted them up one at a time, treating each of them to a passionate kiss. They spun around Dylan in her mind, taunting him, pleasuring him.

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, she chanted to herself, hoping to make the disturbing picture evaporate.

“Life experience.” Dylan looked her full in the face, eyes smoldering. “So, do you consider yourself

experienced?”

That last line almost melted Michaela. She sensed a secret in him, something dark, perhaps a hurt that maybe, just maybe, needed healing.

This must be the source of the attraction. It’s just my maternal instinct kicking into overdrive.

She put a hand to her neck, wondering if she could heal this man.

“You have a sore neck?”

Michaela started to shake her head, then winced. Her neck was stiff.

“I can fix that for you.”

“No, no, it’s fine.”

Dylan scooted across the final distance between them and placed his hands on her neck. “Turn around.”

His voice was commanding, and he moved her so she sat between his legs, facing away from him. The

seat was quite wide, allowing her to perch on the edge while he kept his back to the backrest. But her position was far from easy. She was too aware of his proximity, and especially of the muscled thighs on either side of her slender derriere.

“It’s probably nothing,” she whispered. The heat from his hands did delicious things to her skin.

“It’ll be from me throwing you around,” he said in her ear. “Dancers are always injuring themselves. I’ll fix you, though.”

As his hands started to knead the tension out of her muscles, Michaela melted further. Of course,

dancers were always giving each other rubdowns. She tried not to think about them turning erotic.

But perhaps that was exactly what she needed. Maybe she really could relax her zero-personal-relations policy if she was very clear about it going no further. If it was just a bit of fun. He’d likely only be here for a few months. They were both consenting adults, and she already felt like she knew him better than

people she’d worked with for over a year.

“Oh, that’s great,” she said. The melting was spreading throughout her body now. Time seemed to drip

away, turning to liquid just as easily as her aching muscles relaxed. She shut her eyes and let herself be carried away by the sensations. Caught up in the easy sway of the boat, the warm lighting of the stage, and his hands on her neck, she drifted.

The mental picture she’d had of Dylan with all the different dancers returned to her mind, but this time instead of other dancers, it was her in his arms. The two of them swayed in time with the ship,

blanketed by the music, part of the tune. In her mind, Dylan spun her out, and as he turned her back

into his chest, he stroked the line of her jaw. Before she could say anything, he dropped her into a

strong dip, holding her tightly, his face leaning over her.

He smiled as he slowly brought her back up to vertical and kissed her as he had only yesterday. His real hands on her shoulders coupled with the picture of him in her mind brought a new warmth between

Michaela’s thighs.

A warmth that was spreading.

Gently, gently, he pulled her closer to him until her back rested against the width of his chest.

Oh, how warm. Dylan was delicious. Not only could he raise her temperature with just a touch, but he

narrowed in on her insecurities and made her feel better about herself. He listened, he gave advice, and he truly seemed to grasp the difficult politics of her world. Without patronizing, he gave it to her

straight. This man stirred her emotions with his talk of children and women’s successes. He understood her—understood her well enough to be more than just a fling.

Even through her clothes, she could feel the contours of his muscles, feel the heat of his well-built frame. The tips of her s prickled, pushing themselves against the thin lace of her bra. Where his arms brushed her, she felt the thrill of desire starting to build.

Dylan worked his way down her arms until he was massaging her hands. Their bodies now pressed

together as one flesh, her back to his front. His fingers moved over her hands and down the tops of her thighs, drawing her back to him tightly. Her shoulders were completely relaxed, nestled into his chest, and she could feel tingling all along her arms where his fingers had rubbed at her skin. His breath was warm on her cheek, and she willed it closer.

As if responding to her desire, he snuggled in, and his lips brushed the bottom lobe of her ear. “Better?”

he asked, his voice thick. “A little more?”

“Oh, much better, but perhaps just a bit more,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t betray just how much more she wanted. But it seemed Dylan already knew, because his teeth nibbled delicately at her earlobe while his hands released her thighs and spread their strength over her soft stomach, almost spanning

her whole waist. His palms radiated warmth, and she felt the thrill of the heat rush through her body.

Hot. So hot.

Just in time, she stopped herself from loosening a button to cool off.

He rained a shower of tiny kisses over her neck, all the while practically purring his warm breath against her skin. A tiny moan remained trapped at the back of Michaela’s throat, and she arched her spine to fit more closely to his body.

Against the relaxed cotton of his dance pants and through her tight pencil skirt, Michaela felt the firm contours of his erection pushing into the base of her back. A charge ran through her, bringing the heat from inside to boil along the entire surface of her skin. Her s now strained urgently against their soft lace prison, and her s were hard pebbles trying desperately to find a mouth to soften them.He must have

sensed her need, because he turned her head, tipping it back and cupping her chin firmly in his hand.

Looking into her eyes, Dylan pulled her face toward him, covering her lips with his. This time, the moan did escape, and Michaela whimpered into the warm recesses of his mouth.

The kiss was everything his massage and her fantasy had promised. He was tender but firm as he pulled her closer. Michaela’s hands went to his perfect chest. The tongue teasing her mouth open was hot and hungry, and Michaela opened her mouth wider to let it in. It was a completely different kiss from

yesterday’s. That kiss had been hard and eager. This was soft and rich and deep and oh… Another moan

escaped her.

Was kissing always like this? She tried to remember.

No, it can’t possibly have been this good.

Dylan stroked her neck and nibbled her bottom lip, causing a new run of shivers to light up her body. No, never like this.

Too soon, he drew his head away, his beautiful eyes full of passion. His hands moved to her torso, and she became properly aware that she was sitting sideways in his lap, his erection brushing against the outside of her thigh.

“Well, you certainly seem to be experienced at something,” she murmured.

A frown flickered over his forehead, and he kissed her again. This time, the passion was unstoppable, and Michaela found herself wishing he would release her s from their restrictions. She hoped he would lay her down on the long theater couch while the stage lights warmed them.

His hands started to stray up her sides, finally cupping her s. Her s aching, she groaned as his thumbs finally rubbed over one , then the other. “Dylan,” she gasped as his mouth released hers, but he hardly let her breathe before his mouth was back on hers, eagerly kissing her words away.

Michaela’s desire caught him off guard. His arousal had been ordinary at first, but the more she

moaned, the more Dylan found himself wanting her. Wanting her right then and there.

Her skirt had ridden up as she squirmed against him, exposing a length of tanned thigh just begging to be kissed. Gripping her firmly around the waist, he lifted her up and turned her around so she straddled him, giving him easier access to her mouth and s. She tucked her legs in as he moved her to

accommodate him, then hesitated.

“Maybe we shouldn’t…”

“No, we should,” he growled. There would be no more conversation. No more questions. No more

chances for her to think about anything except how she was going to open herself up to him. He kissed her again, and she began to move against him. The subtle motion started near her waist and moved into her . Her thighs. Yes.

He opened his eyes. She was as good as his. The hot beat of what their sex would be like pounded

through him as he watched her body relish its rhythm and she rocked back and forth on his lap.

Dylan ran his hands up her torso again. As they found the hardness of her s, he realized he wanted

more, and he pushed one hand up inside her shirt. Her skin was warm. No, more than that—it was as

hot as if the sun had shone on it all day. Finding the shirt too tight to get to the promise of her bare s, he used his other hand to quickly unbutton her top, the six fastenings coming open as if they realized they were in the way.

Yes.

Pulling back from her mouth, he gazed at her exposed chest, the fine white lace of her bra only just

containing her small s as they strained toward him. “All for me,” he said. Ducking his head gently, he bit at one through the thin lace.

“Oh!” Michaela’s gasp only made him harder, and he pulled her closer to his mouth. With one hand

fondling her other , he reached behind and unfastened her bra to give his mouth better access. She

tasted wonderful. Shifting on the couch, Dylan slowed to run his tongue around her areola, then took