Read Online The Curvy Voice Coach and the Billionaire Actor (He Wanted Me Pregnant!) by Victoria Wessex - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Victoria Wessex
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soaking into the wood. If Tanner put his hand on the other side, would he be able to feel it? Did he know, already, what I’d been doing? Was he about to turn the handle and swing the door wide again?
What would I do, if he did?
For three long breaths, Tanner just stayed there outside my door. And then, at last, I heard him stumble away.
I slid down the door until I was on my knees, my forehead resting against the wood. When I finally turned around, I saw the vibrator almost immediately, under my bed. I fished it out.
And then I climbed under the covers and there, under the safety of the comforter, I picked up where I left off. Legs apart, knees bent, I held the vibrator still while I ground my crotch against it, never quite touching the clit but teasing, teasing. My fingers found me even wetter than I had been before, which made a mockery over my whole theory about only being interested in fantasy-Tanner. So did the fact that, in my mind, it wasn’t Tanner the Special Forces soldier who was climbing between my legs. It was Tanner in his charcoal-gray suit, with his shirt so sexily unbuttoned, and that long, thick cock plunging—
Nggghh—
It swept over me, my ass lifting into the air as I bucked and trembled silently, the orgasm soaking every coherent thought from my mind and then washing back again and again like the tide, erasing everything. When I finally slumped to the bed, sticky and exhausted, all the Tanners had become one.
And I was utterly, undeniably hot for him.
Chapter 5
The next morning, I was the first one up. Tanner emerged a good half hour later than usual, moving more slowly and speaking more quietly than usual.
“Good morning, Mr. Cole,” I said, looking up at him.
He gave me a sheepish smile. Tanner Cole, sheepish! Did he remember what had happened the night before? What had happened the night before? I still didn’t understand what he’d been trying to tell me.
“Coffee?” I offered. “I made some. I thought you’d need it.”
He eyed the coffee pot and licked his lips, but not in a good way.
“Maybe I should try some tea,” he said. “That’s...gentler, right?”
There was a note of something in his voice and it took me a while to figure it out. He was apologizing. For what? And something else was different, too. He didn’t seem as flirty. He wasn’t avoiding my eyes, exactly, but he didn’t keep holding my gaze, either. It was as if we were just friends, or colleagues, now….
...which implied we’d been something more, before.
I had a horrible feeling that I might have missed something.
“I’ll make you some tea,” I told him, and brewed him a cup of English Breakfast. He sipped it experimentally.
“Good?”
He looked at me over the rim of the cup. “I’m not sure. I think so.” He took another sip. “Give it time and let’s see.”
I frowned. It didn’t sound like he was talking about the tea. And something was definitely different, this morning. Had I missed something?
Tanner turned on his phone and started browsing the gossip sites and there, right on the main page of the first one, was a paparazzi shot of him. With his arm around Laura Pagonetti.
Laura Pagonetti was the big new thing. Not even twenty-five yet, and she’d already picked up three Academy Awards. Her long, mahogany hair and huge innocent eyes were making her the go-to choice for beautiful but nerdy atomic scientist caught up in international conspiracy, or struggling single mother accused of crime she didn’t commit, and she did a particularly good woman in haunted apartment who wears nothing but lingerie. She had a waist that Tanner could have closed his hands around and her breasts stuck out like demure little half-oranges under her designer dress. Her ass was more of a suggestion than a statement.
He scrolled down. More shots—of her sitting on his knee. Of the two of them laughing together. Of them leaving the bar together.
Of course. Of course he’d been with her last
What would I do, if he did?
For three long breaths, Tanner just stayed there outside my door. And then, at last, I heard him stumble away.
I slid down the door until I was on my knees, my forehead resting against the wood. When I finally turned around, I saw the vibrator almost immediately, under my bed. I fished it out.
And then I climbed under the covers and there, under the safety of the comforter, I picked up where I left off. Legs apart, knees bent, I held the vibrator still while I ground my crotch against it, never quite touching the clit but teasing, teasing. My fingers found me even wetter than I had been before, which made a mockery over my whole theory about only being interested in fantasy-Tanner. So did the fact that, in my mind, it wasn’t Tanner the Special Forces soldier who was climbing between my legs. It was Tanner in his charcoal-gray suit, with his shirt so sexily unbuttoned, and that long, thick cock plunging—
Nggghh—
It swept over me, my ass lifting into the air as I bucked and trembled silently, the orgasm soaking every coherent thought from my mind and then washing back again and again like the tide, erasing everything. When I finally slumped to the bed, sticky and exhausted, all the Tanners had become one.
And I was utterly, undeniably hot for him.
Chapter 5
The next morning, I was the first one up. Tanner emerged a good half hour later than usual, moving more slowly and speaking more quietly than usual.
“Good morning, Mr. Cole,” I said, looking up at him.
He gave me a sheepish smile. Tanner Cole, sheepish! Did he remember what had happened the night before? What had happened the night before? I still didn’t understand what he’d been trying to tell me.
“Coffee?” I offered. “I made some. I thought you’d need it.”
He eyed the coffee pot and licked his lips, but not in a good way.
“Maybe I should try some tea,” he said. “That’s...gentler, right?”
There was a note of something in his voice and it took me a while to figure it out. He was apologizing. For what? And something else was different, too. He didn’t seem as flirty. He wasn’t avoiding my eyes, exactly, but he didn’t keep holding my gaze, either. It was as if we were just friends, or colleagues, now….
...which implied we’d been something more, before.
I had a horrible feeling that I might have missed something.
“I’ll make you some tea,” I told him, and brewed him a cup of English Breakfast. He sipped it experimentally.
“Good?”
He looked at me over the rim of the cup. “I’m not sure. I think so.” He took another sip. “Give it time and let’s see.”
I frowned. It didn’t sound like he was talking about the tea. And something was definitely different, this morning. Had I missed something?
Tanner turned on his phone and started browsing the gossip sites and there, right on the main page of the first one, was a paparazzi shot of him. With his arm around Laura Pagonetti.
Laura Pagonetti was the big new thing. Not even twenty-five yet, and she’d already picked up three Academy Awards. Her long, mahogany hair and huge innocent eyes were making her the go-to choice for beautiful but nerdy atomic scientist caught up in international conspiracy, or struggling single mother accused of crime she didn’t commit, and she did a particularly good woman in haunted apartment who wears nothing but lingerie. She had a waist that Tanner could have closed his hands around and her breasts stuck out like demure little half-oranges under her designer dress. Her ass was more of a suggestion than a statement.
He scrolled down. More shots—of her sitting on his knee. Of the two of them laughing together. Of them leaving the bar together.
Of course. Of course he’d been with her last
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