Susan Mallery: The Million-Dollar Catch: The Substitute Millionaire

His touch was inspired, she thought as her mind began to fog as passion and need took over. In a matter of seconds she was wet and swollen and hungry for him to be inside of her.

While he bent down and licked her tight, sensitive nipples, she rubbed his shoulders, his back, then kissed the top of his head.

He straightened. “Okay, time to shower.”

Shower? “What?”

He took her hand and guided her into the tub, then pulled the curtain closed. He urged her under the spray, then reached for the soap.

After lathering his hands, he began to wash her all over. The soap made her skin slick. His fingers glided and slipped as he first cleaned her, then teased her.

He washed her back, her hips, the backs of her legs, before rinsing her off. Then instead of turning her, he just moved in close and with her back pressing against his chest, began to run his hands up and down the front of her body.

He caressed her neck, then did a thorough job of cleaning her breasts. The combination of soapy fingers against her nipples and pounding hot water made her weak and hungry with need. She covered his hands with hers to keep him in place while she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“There’s more,” he whispered in her ear. “Much more.”

Without warning, he stepped back, then turned her. He lightly kissed her on the mouth before dropping to his knees and pressing another opened-mouthed kiss to her stomach.

Her muscles clenched in anticipation. The water ran down her body. He urged her to put one foot on the edge of the tub, then he leaned in, parted her flesh and licked her. She cried out as his tongue circled the very heart of her, before moving across her swollen center. She felt his lips, his breath and the steady pressure as he pleasured her.

She had to brace herself by placing one hand on the wall. Her legs began to tremble as her muscles clenched. He moved slow, then fast, licking, sucking, forcing her higher and closer. Her breath came in pants. She was completely his to command as the promise of an incredible orgasm kept her frozen in place.

She wanted to beg. If she’d known any state secrets she would have yelled them, anything to have him keep doing what he was doing. She felt herself spiral closer and yet her release remained elusively out of reach.

More, she thought frantically, she needed more. But how?

He must have read her mind because he slipped two fingers inside of her. Even as he continued to kiss her so intimately, he filled her and the combination was too much.

She lost control right there, in the shower, with the water pounding and an incredible man between her legs. She gasped for breath and screamed and shuddered until she knew that nothing ever again would ever be this spectacular.

Her release crashed through her, leaving her exhausted and boneless. Todd stood and smiled, then pulled her close. She could barely gather the strength to hug him back.

The thought of doing to him what he’d gone to her perked her up a little. She stepped back, but before she could do anything else, he reached behind her and turned off the shower.

“We’ll get cold,” she told him.

“I don’t think so.”

He pulled open the curtains, then led her out of the shower. After spreading a towel on the counter, he lifted her onto it, parted her legs and pushed into her with one firm, demanding thrust.

She would have bet a lot of money that she was too content to even think about coming again for six or eight months. But the second he filled her, she felt tired muscles sit up and take notice. Then he kissed her and she found herself getting lost in the sensual dance of tongues and lips and need.

They were both wet and the bathroom was steamy and he hadn’t had a real shower yet, but none of that mattered. Not when he slipped his hand between them and found her still-swollen center. He rubbed it gently enough not to hurt, but just enough to make her surge toward him.

She went from exhausted to take-me-now in less than fifteen seconds. She wrapped her legs around his hips and rode him until she came again—this time holding in her scream until he groaned her name and they got lost together in their mutual release.

Julie lay on her bed, her eyes closed, her long, blond hair spread out on the pillow. Ryan Bennett twisted a strand around his index finger, enjoying the softness of her hair and the way it caught the light. Her breathing was slow and steady, as if she were about to fall sleep, but the slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth told him she might have something else on her mind.

Something he would find very appealing.

He didn’t want to go. That surprised him nearly as much as anything. Normally he was a get-out-of-town-fast kind of guy, the morning after. He frequently avoided the problem by not staying at all. But he’d wanted to wake up in Julie’s bed and make love with her again. He’d wanted a lot of things.

“Julie,” he murmured.

She opened her eyes. Her irises were a blue with tiny flecks of green. She had freckles and a wicked smile, and she smelled like vanilla and sex and temptation.

How could she be like that and be a scheming liar? Was this all a game to her? A twisted, win-at-any-cost game?

He’d pretended not to know about Ruth’s offer of a million dollars to see if she would mention it. She had, though, and in such a way that he wanted to believe it didn’t matter to her. But if she didn’t care about the money, why go on the date at all?

She reached up and stroked his face. “You’re far too good-looking,” she told him.

“That’s not a bad thing.”

“It could be. Handsome men don’t have to try so hard.”

“So you’d rather I was a troll?”

“I’d like to think you had to put a little effort into getting women into your bed. Instead, I have a feeling I’m simply one of the masses.”

“I didn’t get you into my bed,” he said as he leaned close. “I got you into your bed.”

“That’s a subtlety that does nothing to weaken my point.”

He rolled onto his side and supported his head with his hand. “Why do you get away with saying bad things about men, but if I were to make a crack about beautiful women, you’d accuse me of being misogynistic?”

“Because it would be true. We have centuries of inequity between the sexes to overcome. I think a little head start for the ladies is perfectly acceptable.”

“So speaks the lady.”

She raised her eyebrows. “We’ve already had the ‘do you want me to be a man’ conversation. Yet here we are, flirting with it again. Is there something you want to tell me?”

He rolled onto his back. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“It’s one of my best qualities. I’ve turned it into an art form.”

She laughed, then bent over him and brushed his mouth with hers. Her hair stroked his chest and it was all he could do not to reach out and touch her, take her, be inside of her.

Who was she, really? He’d come on the date because Todd was his cousin and he, Ryan, had been in the mood to exact a little revenge on money-hungry women, whomever they might be. He hadn’t cared about Julie; in fact, he’d been prepared to dislike her on sight.

But she’d won him over and somehow made him want to believe in her.

“Tell me about your family,” he said.

She raised her head. “Interesting change in topic.”

“I’m curious about your grandmother. How could you not know her all these years?”

Julie curled up next to him and put her head on his shoulder. Involuntarily, he reached for her hand and laced their fingers together.

“Ruth’s first husband died unexpectedly, while she was pregnant with my mom. Ruth remarried a few months after the birth to Fraser Jamison, your great-uncle. Naomi, my mom, looked on him as her father. When she was seventeen, she met Jack Nelson, my dad, and fell madly in love with him. He didn’t come from money—in fact he was a bit of a loser, but charming and she couldn’t help herself. She ran off and married him, and Ruth and Fraser turned their backs on her.”