All Chapters of Naughty Nikki: A Billionaire Romance: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

We deplane and settle in the limo while our luggage is loaded. Mostly my luggage, because I didn’t have the foresight to consolidate and compartmentalize, so that I’d only need one suitcase to accompany us for the three nights we’ll be in London. I make a mental note to reorganize and be more efficient, letting myself a little off the hook by contending I’ll be picking up an additional wardrobe along the way and I’ll have to accommodate those supplemental items.As we leave the private, executive terminal, visions of conservative cocktail dresses and more risqué late-night attire dance through my head. I also try to take in the scenery. It’s early morning and foggy. The gray mist weaves through the trees and buildings. There’s an odd comfort to the haze, laced with an eerie sensation. It feels mysterious and sensual, lazy yet…ominous.I’ve discovered I’m a huge fan of ominous.It’s not necessarily a menacing word, encompassing of evil connotations. It’s more seductively foreboding, su

The light fare is perfectly filling without the bloat. Yes, I am ultra-conscientious of my body in this incredibly tight dress as Jameson pulls back my chair and holds out a hand to me. I stand as he collects my clutch. Then he escorts me out of the restaurant. All eyes are on us again.I modestly comprehend the curiosity is wrapped solely around him. But I wishfully think that perhaps they all find me intriguing enough, as well, to justify being on his arm.That’s a tough notion to process and certainly not one I’m going to reconcile.In the grand scheme of things, I did orchestrate something that has led us to this moment, by originally putting myself up for auction. Then by perpetuating what was only meant to be a fantasy. However, in all reality… I’m nowhere near being in this man’s league, regardless of any clever, though mostly desperate, maneuvering on my part.What this all propagates is a tinge of insecurity that is coupled with a more daring conception of at least attempting

It’s not really a question that needs to be posed. Obviously.Except… There are now myriad thoughts invading my mind.Erotic ones, wrapped around voyeurism.Jealous ones, considering Jameson might have just ordered an orgy for us to participate in—and I’m not interested in sharing this man.And anxious ones, because this might be the place where he demonstrates his dominance, bringing the collar into play.Oh, shit.I pull in a few deep breaths. Then I suck down half my glass of bubbly. And breathe some more.Beside me, Jameson casually takes a drink. The entire scene is elegantly sensuous, with the glamourous chandelier and sconces on a dim setting, the plush furniture and the fancy décor. The incredibly hot and hunky male who’s orchestrating all of this. He’s amazingly cool and collected. Like this is nothing out of the ordinary for him.And, suddenly, I wonder if that’s true.I more carefully query, “Been here before?”Okay, that’s not the least bit cautious. I dove right in, didn

I mean “personal” in a different capacity than what we’ve touched on recently. But I can’t fully define the term, because it’s so damn complex.We’ve been insanely intimate with each other, yes. However, that doesn’t transcend us to a “relationship” status beyond the sexual one I have reminded myself is the core of our current out-of-office association.And I likely didn’t help myself by getting so intense with Jameson just now.Yet… He doesn’t appear put out.He is on edge, though. And that makes him even sexier.Jesus, is he sexy.His jaw works and his shoulders set.I am suddenly desperate to enter an erotic rite of passage and slip to the floor of the limo, press his legs apart, unzip his pants and make him come.The desire to do so burns through me.But I want to enjoy him at my leisure, not be in a rush.I one-thousand percent do not want to be in a rush.So I divert my thoughts from wicked ones to the track we were on previously, saying, “Sorry if I cost you money at the club.”

~ Jameson ~ “What girl would balk at that?” she counters, wantonly.“You’re no girl,” I correct. “You are one-thousand percent woman. And then some.”She laughs, so very softly. It’s a titillating sound, coming from someone I have discovered is no delicate flower. Granted, she has her fragile moments. But Nikki also has a fierce side. One I respect and admire.I help her out of her shoes and then settle her on the edge of the bed. I spread her thighs with my hands and wedge between them as she shoves my jacket over my shoulders, loosens my tie, then unravels it. Her eyes lock with mine as she starts to unbutton my shirt.The flicker of mischief in her irises compels me to say, “Fuck it,” and I yank the flap apart, sending buttons flying. “Not like I don’t have a dozen more of these on hangers,” I mutter.She bites her lip. Then she tells me, “That’s hot, Jameson.”The glow that tinges her beautiful face jerks something deep within me. So that I can’t ignore it.I strip off the shirt.