The Billionaire's Touch Read Online Free

twenty-person table and soaring ceilings. A cozy study with wood paneling and hundreds of books, many of them on architecture. A patio outside with an infinity pool, jacuzzi, and a small grove of trees. A den with leather sofas and chairs and an 80-inch HD television on one wall. And then there’s the bedroom, with a California king-sized bed and the plushest carpet I’ve ever sunk my feet into.
    The one thing all the rooms have in common are twenty-foot tall windows, with an absolutely breathtaking view of the New York skyline. Well – all except for the patio. No windows there, just the warm summer air and a 180 degree view.
    “You can put your things in here,” Grant says, pointing me to a closet that is bigger – and waaaay better furnished – than my entire apartment back in Los Angeles. Three-panel, full-length mirrors. Mahogany wardrobes. Floor-to-ceiling shoe racks.
    “It’s good to be a billionaire,” I murmur in shock.
    “Yes it is,” Grant agrees as he circles my waist from behind, then kisses my neck.
    Just as I’m getting into it, he releases me.
    “Dinner first,” he says mischievously, and leaves me to unpack in the cavernous closet.

9
    Dinner is absolutely amazing. We dine at a small table on the patio under the rising moon. We drink the most delicious wine I’ve ever tasted and sample several entrees – filet mignon, duck, sea bass.
    “Do you have a cook who fixed this?” I marvel.
    “Well, I do have a chef, but he’s got the week off. I ordered this from Le Meilleur.”
    I drop my fork. ‘Le Meilleur’ is the best new restaurant in New York.
    I’m kind of a foodie, too, FYI.
    “You got this from Le Meilleur?”
    “Yeah.”
    “What – somebody ordered it and picked it up?”
    “Naaah, they ran it over.”
    “They ‘ran it over,’” I repeat in shock. “A five-star restaurant ‘ran it over.’”
    Grant shrugs. “I’m good friends with the owner.”
    Of course.
    By the end of the meal, I’m tipsy and we’re playing footsy under the table.
    “Want to go for a swim?” Grant suggests.
    “I didn’t pack a swimsuit.”
    “You don’t need a swimsuit.”
    Heat flushes across my chest. “You want to skinny dip?”
    He grins, amused by my surprise. “Why not?”
    “What about all those guards?”
    “They’re not in the penthouse, they’re outside in the hallway.”
    I stop and think for a moment. “…why not?”
    We laugh and kiss and stumble our way to the pool, shedding clothes as we go. His hands roam over my body, caressing me, cupping my breasts, slipping between my thighs as we kiss furtively, then undress some more.
    We drop the last of our clothes and stand there naked by the edge of the pool. I reach between his legs. His cock, which was maybe a quarter of the way hard (and still a handful), begins to grow in my grasp. It’s incredibly sexy feeling him getting larger and harder by the second, growing heavier and hotter as his cock expands. Within thirty seconds he’s standing up as straight as an iron bar. I gently move my hand up and down his shaft, feeling his heartbeat pulse in my grip.
    Then he pushes me in the water.
    “AAAAAHH!” I scream as the world goes topsy-turvy around me. A rush of warm water – not chilly, but warm – envelops my body and head. I come up sputtering just in time to see him doubled over laughing by the poolside.
    “YOU ASSHOLE!” I yell at him.
    “I had to do it – oh my God – your face – ”
    “FUCK YOU!” I half-yell, half-laugh. I start for the edge of the pool when he suddenly dives over me.
    I have to admit, even though I’m annoyed, it’s damn hot seeing his gorgeous, muscled body flash over me, lit dramatically by the poolside spotlights. Especially that large, hard cock jutting from his body as he arcs through the air and gracefully pierces the water.
    I feel hands grab my ankles underwater and I shriek. He pulls himself up along my legs. His skin glides across mine, and I can feel the hard pressure of