The Billionaire Boyfriend Trap

Chapter 8

We spent all of Saturday morning in bed, alternating between making love and sleeping. We ordered in croissants and coffee for brunch. I learned that the building's concierge was at Reece's beck and call. I also learned that having someone at your beck and call is freaking awesome. We didn't talk much, but that was okay. My brain wasn't functioning too well. I was suffering a kind of hangover from the cocktail of hot sex and emotional overload. Reece made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. He worshipped my body with his tongue, his gaze, his body. He made me feel alive.

He was in no hurry to end the day and send me home, but by mid-afternoon, I thought it best to check-in with Becky.

"Hey," I said when she picked up the phone. "You okay?"

"Sure." The smile in her voice was unmistakable. "You having a good time?"

"Yeah," I said. Hell, yes. Maybe too good. "I might not come home until later."

"Tomorrow," Reece murmured, snuggling up behind me. "Tell her you're not going home until tomorrow. Late."

"Is that him?" Becky asked. "What's his name?"

"I, uh, have to go," I said quickly. "Call me if you need anything." I hung up before she could ask any more awkward questions.

Reece rolled me onto my stomach and covered my body with his own. He stretched my hands above my head and enclosed them in one of his big ones, but not so hard that I couldn't escape. Not that I wanted to. I wanted to see what he would do to me, wanted to feel him inside me. He swept my hair aside with his other hand and nuzzled my neck. It tickled and I began to giggle, but all that was forgotten when he parted my legs with his knee. I raised my ass, inviting, and he slipped his thick length into me from behind.

He groaned. "God, you feel goooood, Cleo. I love making love to you. I love being inside you, feeling you tremble with desire for me, feeling your heat. I love hearing my name on your lips, smelling your scent when you come."

I'd not thought a few murmured words could drive me to higher and higher heights, but I was so turned on, he could have done anything to me and I wouldn't have cared.

But he didn't take advantage. He cherished me. He put my pleasure before his, always, and asked before he tried something new. I felt like an equal partner and in control of the situation at every turn.

It didn't make sense. I had expected a demanding, controlling Reece Kavanagh in bed because that's what he was like out of it. But he was the perfect gentleman.

It made me feel even more guilty.

"Reece," I said when we once more lay in each other's arms, spent and sated. "I can't stay here all today and tomorrow."

He propped his head up on his hand and trailed a fingertip along the curve of my back. "Why not?"

"For one thing, I haven't got any clothes."

He kissed my shoulder. "You don't need clothes."

"And for another, I have to take care of my sister."

"Isn't she old enough to take care of herself?"

"Ye-es, but she's immature. I don't like leaving her for long on her own."

He pulled back and leveled his gaze with mine. "Why not? Is she okay?"

I swallowed heavily. I didn't want to tell him about her past health problems. She may be in remission, but she became tired a lot and I worried about her. But telling him that would only make me more vulnerable to him. Bottom line, I couldn't let him get too close. Reece Kavanagh was not long-term. Sex with him I could manage; intimacy I couldn't.