Free Novel Read

Borrowed Billionaire #4 Under the Sea Page 2


  Soon, he had me panting and moaning.

  I had my first climax, a mellow and relaxing one that left me shivering and calm, but he kept going, coaxing me back up the mountain again.

  I didn't want to interrupt his concentration, but I peeked down and asked him to insert his longest finger and make a come-here gesture.

  He did it and raised his eyebrows at me. “Yes?”

  He found that magical spot, that spot I didn't know I had. An entirely new wave of pleasure flooded me, like a new flavor. “Oh, holy oh holy, oh wow,” I said.

  Jacob liked this and continued to play with me like I was his new toy.

  I began to climax a second time, so I sat up quickly, grabbed onto his big, muscular body, and pulled him on top of me and inside. As he entered, I came, my body like crackling electricity.

  When I surfaced, he was still grinding into me, a look of absolute contentment on his face.

  After a few minutes, I asked if he wanted me in a different position, if he was getting deep enough.

  He grunted, pulled out, and lifted me up like a doll. He pushed my legs and positioned me on my knees, doggy style.

  Instead of inserting immediately, he ran the tip of his cock up and down my pussy, then across my clit, back and forth, generating more heat. When I was whimpering and ready for penetration, he eased into me as though it was our first time.

  As he drove himself deeper, to the hilt, I could tell he wouldn't last much longer. His cock was so rigid, so urgent.

  He wasn't saying anything at all now, which was such a change for Jacob. It sorta felt like a new man, and I missed Jacob. I wanted Jacob.

  “Tell me what you're gonna do to me,” I said.

  He grunted and slowed his thrusting. “Good.”

  “Enough of the three words. You've been a good boy, but now I want you to talk dirty.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I'm gonna—” he pounded into me “—pound—”

  And that was all he said. The rest was just a series of grunts and moans.

  After he came, he rocked me forward and eased me down to my stomach, and then onto my side, so we were spooning, with him still inside me.

  “Good?” I asked.

  “Mm hmm.” He bit my shoulder.

  I started to pull away, thinking already about a shower, but he threw one of his big arms around me and hugged me to him.

  “Sleepy time,” he said.

  “Yeah?” I glanced at the clock on my side table. It wasn't even ten, but I was comfortable. Jacob never stayed over at my place, nor did I stay over at his. “You wanna stay over?” I asked.

  He bit me on the shoulder again, which I took to mean yes.

  Eventually, he did let me out of bed, and I had a quick shower and took off my makeup for bed.

  When I returned to the bedroom, he was fast asleep.

  He still had his socks on, silly thing, so I took them off and fixed the blankets and pillows on his side so he looked more comfortable.

  When I climbed back into bed, he stirred in his sleep and muttered something completely incomprehensible.

  “What?”

  He repeated himself, making even less sense, then he laughed. The guy actually laughed, in his sleep.

  I snuggled up next to him and tried to sleep, but I was wide awake. The next day was Thursday, and I was flying somewhere on Friday. I didn't even know where, but I was fairly certain I knew why, and for what. I was to be someone's plaything, their rented toy.

  I hugged Jacob close to me and kissed him on the cheek. My feelings were all mixed up and confused. Even though we were just casual friends, not exclusive, I felt funny thinking about Luthor Thorne while I was holding Jacob.

  Half an hour later, I was not really asleep and not really awake, and I didn't know what to do with myself. I was nervous and aroused.

  I climbed on top of a sleeping Jacob and jerked his sleeping cock until it was firm. He mumbled, sleepily, “Okay, but you have to do the work. I'm sleepy.”

  “Fine by me,” I said.

  A minute later, he was in and fully erect, and I was riding him, cowgirl-style.

  With my hands on his broad chest, I rocked my pelvis until my instincts took over completely, and I was without thoughts.

  The two of us came together, wordlessly, both of us panting and gasping.

  I kissed him and thanked him.

  He pulled me down onto his chest, covered my mouth with his hand and said, “Shh, sleepy time now.”

  “Yes, sleepy time. I promise. I won't wake you up again.”

  After a moment, he said, “Staying over is dangerous.”

  I rolled off him and nuzzled up to his side. “It sure is.”

  2: The Mile High Club

  We got through airport security without incident, though I was annoyed our party was only three people: me, Suzanne, and her husband Simon.

  Simon had a big ol' grin on his face, which made me want to punch him. He kept joking around about the Mile High Club, and then, once we were in the air, wouldn't you know it, he made good on his promise.

  I sunk down in my seat and pretended not to know the two people who were quite obviously having sex in the airplane's First Class restroom. The hostess brought around some drinks, and I enjoyed a champagne.

  Between the second and third glass of champagne, I got into a much better mood. My friends had been in the restroom an awfully long time, and I was actually happy for them. I'd been crushed when I found out Luthor Thorne wasn't flying with us, due to being in Atlanta for business and flying straight from there, but as the champagne kicked in and we flew toward our destination, my heart became buoyant.

  When Suzanne emerged from the tiny restroom, she had an I-just-came grin on her face. She took a seat next to me and stole my champagne, guzzling it in one swallow.

  I said, “Was it good for you?”

  Suzanne smoothed out her hair, the color of which she'd had refreshed the other day, so her naturally brown hair was bright red and her scalp was tinged pink. “I don't know what you're talking about,” she said with a smirk.

  Simon came out a few minutes later, looking like he'd won the Olympics of sex. He was cute in his own Simon way: nerdy glasses; naturally red hair; round cheeks; not a swimwear model, but a nice shape. “Built for comfort, not speed,” as Simon would say.

  He took his seat across the aisle, tipped back his chair, and was asleep within seconds.

  Suzanne nodded at him and said, “Every time.”

  “Jacob's the same way. What is up with that? He was over the other night and he crashed before I could kick him out. I swear, if he fell asleep any faster, it would be during the actual orgasm.”

  Suzanne frowned. “Jacob was over? When was this?”

  “A few weeks ago,” I lied.

  Suzanne stared into my soul.

  “Fine. It was Wednesday night. I had an itch to scratch, okay?”

  She shook her head.

  “I'm not exclusive with Luthor Thorne. Wait, unless you negotiated that for me as well?”

  “Oh, I guess you're right.” She waved for the hostess to bring us more champagne. “Lexie, I'm trying to be more like you. More adventurous and fun. I'm sorry I made the face about Jacob being over at your place. You're a grown-up, I'm sure you know what you're doing.”

  I plucked the floating raspberries from my champagne and ate them with a giggle. “Yeah, I'm a grown-up. Look at us. First Class.”

  She clinked her glass against mine. “First Class, baby.”

  I was sober but disoriented when we reached Denpasar, Bali, where staff from the resort met us and ushered us on to the next leg of the journey, a chartered flight.

  We were the only ones on the flight, and Suzanne and Simon were at it again, giggling and grinding against each other in their chairs.

  “Get a room,” I said, laughing.

  They'd been invited along to be company for me, but what I was getting more closely resembled an
amateur porn video than companionship. I looked out my window at the tropical landscape of Indonesia and decided life wasn't too shabby at all.

  I even pretended not to notice Suzanne giving Simon a not-too-discreet hand job under their shared blanket.

  Wakatobi, Indonesia was hot, but not too hot. The air felt thick and muggy compared to what I was used to, but the breeze coming off the ocean really did make it as comfortable as promised. The staff was so friendly and welcoming that within moments of arriving, I was already planning to return annually, perhaps bi-annually.

  We had arrived between lunch and dinner and decided to freshen up in our rooms.

  The resort wasn't a tall hotel, but a grouping of smaller buildings and villas. Naturally, traveling with a billionaire had its advantages, and I was shown to the most deluxe villa of all, overlooking the ocean. I stood on the private patio and stared out at nothing but blue ocean. Just below the surface was one of the world's most biodiverse coral reefs. The tangy sea air made me want to submerge myself, so I didn't even change into my swimsuit, but stripped off my clothes and stepped down into the private pool, also overlooking the ocean. One of the walls of the pool was glass, so there was nothing between me and the blue sky and ocean.

  I kicked up my legs, floated back and thought lazily about sunscreen, but I moved back under the cover of the large shade umbrella and found absolute contentment.

  With my head resting on the tiled rim of the pool, I was just drifting off to sleep when I heard the sounds of lovemaking.

  Suzanne and Simon were in the adjacent villa, and apparently that was their idea of “freshening up” before dinner. I laughed into my hand and listened for a bit, noting the particular sounds of Suzanne's triumphant cries so I could tease her later.

  She sounded like she was really getting it good, and my nipples got hard, the skin on my breasts tight. I reached down and found my pussy hot to the touch, beneath the cool water of the pool.

  The sounds of lovemaking drifted around me pleasantly and I thought about sexy Luthor Thorne, with his hungry green-brown eyes and those hands. He had working man's hands, even though he did business and spent more time on a computer keyboard than with any tools.

  He was a man who knew what he wanted and took it. Being desired by him, being in Indonesia, felt so natural and right and good.

  I rubbed up and down my clit, keeping my hand close to keep the chill of the pool away. I stretched out my body, enjoying the weightlessness, enjoying being utterly naked and outdoors.

  As I climaxed, I opened my eyes and stared out at the gorgeous blue ocean. Porpoises jumped and splashed in the ocean. I was a part of nature, a part of beauty.

  Dinner was fun, and I was actually glad Luthor wouldn't be there until the following afternoon. Relaxed in the tropical environment, I found myself enjoying the company of Suzanne and Simon. They kept giving each other googly eyes and flirting across the table like a couple of kids, but when they weren't trying to eye-fuck each other, they were a ton of laughs.

  As the whole trip was on Mr. Thorne's tab, we didn't even look at the prices, but sampled everything interesting from the menu.

  Thanks to some pamphlet-reading on the chartered plane and the extra pages within the menus, I learned that Indonesia is comprised of literally thousands of populated islands. The people love to cook with serious flavor. There's good reason the islands were famed as “the Spice Islands” back in the days before airplanes and the internet.

  We sampled many vegetarian, seafood, and meat dishes, including gado-gado and nasi goreng. Everything was pungent and spicy, but the staff assured us the heat levels were designed to give flavor without burning our North American systems.

  Simon fanned his mouth and washed everything down with a lot of beer, saying, “If you think it burns now, wait 'til it comes out.”

  Suzanne whispered something in his ear and he blushed.

  I said, “What?”

  She gave me a devilish look. “I said I'd kiss it better.”

  “Suze, let's not discuss analingus at the dinner table.”

  This set us all off laughing hysterically. There were other couples and families in the dining room, but we were definitely the rowdy table.

  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.