‘God, you are so hot.’ He removed his jockey shorts, made sure he was safe and took a half step nearer to her.
She slipped her panties off and pressed her back against the mirrors that lined the lift, pulling him with her. She kissed his mouth, the edge of her teeth nipping his bottom lip. This was driving him crazy. He had to get inside her. He had to take her now.
He slammed his hand on the elevator buttons, hoping it would buy them some time and then he lifted her up in his arms, his hands clasping her buttocks as his mouth dived into hers.
A gasp left her as he lowered her down so he could slip inside. The heat that met him intensified every ounce of passion he was already full of.
‘Do it,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘Move me.’
Hayley was aching all over, trembling, itching for a need to be fulfilled. All the flirtatious banter, the teasing, the kissing in the snow, no one had ever got to her like this man had. This complex billionaire no one seemed to understand except her. She saw him. All of him. His worries and concerns were so similar to hers. They were like two parts of the same Christmas cracker. And right about now, she was ready to be pulled apart.
She braced herself against the wall of the lift, her hands on his chest as he made love to her, fast and urgent, then slowly, thrusting long and deep, until she dug her nails into him and begged for release.
She kissed his mouth, looking into his eyes, wanting to watch as he came apart, as he pulled her to pieces with him. And then it was happening; it was like being catapulted through the air at amillion miles an hour and not knowing where you were going to land. Stars pricked her eyes as Oliver called out, his hair damp between her fingers, his skin shining with perspiration. Tiny pleasure sensors were sending happy signals to her every part. She didn’t want to let him go. Then one of her legs buckled.
‘Ow, cramp,’ Hayley said, shifting a little but not wanting the connection to end.
Oliver kissed her lips. ‘You OK?’
She nodded, putting a hand to his cheek. ‘You?’
‘Spent,’ he responded, still catching his breath.
She laughed. ‘A billionaire with nothing in reserve.’
‘I didn’t say I had nothing. I just think maybe a change of location could be in order.’
‘Ah, the infamous red room. Finally I’m going to see it?’ Hayley asked as he stroked her hair back from her face.
‘You really think I have one?’
‘I’ll be disappointed if you don’t.’
42
OLIVER DRUMMOND’S PENTHOUSE, DOWNTOWN MANHATTAN
Hayley opened her eyes and blinked at the unfamiliar shapes in the half-light, trying to recall where she was.Oliver’s penthouse. A fuzzy, furry feeling spread through her as she remembered the previous night. The fashion show, the lovely meal, the lift… the balcony overlooking Central Park. Now, here she was, wrapped up in Egyptian cotton feeling like she could conquer the world. She turned onto her side, facing Oliver. There was just one little thing eating away at her. The McArthur Foundation fundraiser. She should tell him she was organising it.Nottelling him was virtually lying to him. But she knew how it would make him feel. If she told him, it would impact on what they had together and she didn’t want that. The time she spent with him was just about them. It didn’t involve Angel or Michel or Drummond Global or Cynthia. She didn’t want to burst that happy bubble just yet, especially after last night.
She mussed his tawny hair and watched him open his eyes.
‘Good morning,’ she greeted. ‘What do you have for breakfast round here?’
‘God, Hayley, you must have one hell of a metabolism.’ He sat up, rubbing at his eyes. ‘Either that or you’re going to just wake up twenty stone one day when it catches up with you.’
‘And if I did?’ she asked, looking cross.
He smiled. ‘Obviously, I’d love you just the same but…’ He stopped. ‘By “love”, I meant, you know, care about you, as a person and?—’
‘You love me!’ Hayley exclaimed, bouncing her body on the bed. ‘Oh I’m going to be Mrs Drummond! Bosco, the doorman! Send for Emo Taragucci to design my wedding gown! Book Romario’s for the reception and order Maroon 5! We’re going to get married!’ she shrieked.
Oliver shook his head as he watched her theatrical performance. ‘You’re crazy.’
‘Your #DoubleWs will be devastated. I might have to hire personal security and carry mace.’
‘God help anyone who tries to attack you.’
‘What’s for breakfast?’ she said, diving over him and knocking him back into the pillows.
