“So it’s my fault?” She shook her head, a coy smile touching her lips. “Guess I should take care of it for you, shouldn’t I?”
And before he could even utter anything, she disappeared under the blankets.
Hunter stiffened, surprise locking him into place.
A warm hand clasped the base of his cock and a hot mouth moved over the head. He felt Gretchen’s tongue swirl over it and he collapsed against the pillows. “Gretchen, I . . . oh, fuck. You’re amazing. So amazing.”
“I know,” she murmured, her words muffled. And then she took him deep into her mouth and began to suck.
God, she was the most amazing woman. He groaned again as she began to work his cock, his hands fisting in the blankets. He wanted to reach down and touch her, but he didn’t want to disturb her. Not when she was doing something so incredibly perfect. Her mouth was like heaven on his cock.
He glanced over at the nightstand, suddenly disturbed that her cat might be watching him get a blowjob, but it was gone. Thank God for that.
She sucked him harder, and he couldn’t resist a little thrust into her mouth, his hips pushing up. That small movement reminded him that he wasn’t going to last, and he told her that. True to form, Gretchen didn’t move away from him. Instead, she redoubled her efforts, taking him deep in her throat and making little noises of pleasure from under the blanket, as if she loved nothing more than to suck on him.
That image, combined with the feel of her on his cock and the tickle of her long hair on his skin, sent him over far too quickly. He came with a shout of her name.
She came up from under the blankets with an impish look on her face. “Just a little something to start the day off right.”
“The day started off right when I woke up and saw you.”
Her face softened and she smiled at him, then poked him with a finger. “Keep saying stuff like that and it’s going to be very hard to get rid of me.”
That was fine with him. He had no intention of ever letting her go.
***
Gretchen’s pleasant, relaxed mood disappeared the moment she went into the library to work. She’d left her phone on the secretary last night and saw that she’d received several voice messages since she’d last checked it.
The first one was from her agent asking if she had finished the Astronaut Bill manuscript. The publisher was waiting on it and getting very upset. If she didn’t turn it in within the next week, the book would have to be pushed and the publication schedule—including her payments—would be juggled. Kat needed Gretchen to call back ASAP.
She deleted it.
The next message was from her apartment manager. Rent was due two days ago and they hadn’t received her check. Had she forgotten?
She hadn’t. She just didn’t have the money yet. She’d signed the contract for this project, but the check still had not come in. Frustrating, but nothing she could do about it except call her landlord and explain that she could mail them a check, but they couldn’t cash it until she was paid. They wouldn’t be keen on it, but they knew she was a writer and that payments were few and far between. She’d had to make arrangements like that before.
The third message was from Cooper. Gretchen listened to it with a growing feeling of dread. The message was friendly and pleasant. Cooper wanted to know how her project was going and that he was looking forward to seeing her again, and did she possibly want to get together this weekend just to hang out and catch up?
She deleted that message, too, and barely resisted burying her face in her hands. The situation with Cooper was a sticky one. He was a friend—a good friend—and had been since college. Unfortunately, he was more like the wimpy little brother she never had, rather than the strong, silent, almost lonely type that she seemed to fall for.
Gretchen put her phone down and thought dreamily about Hunter. Last night had been . . . delicious. The endless foreplay was fun, but she had a craving ache deep within that told her that she wanted more. Time to tell Hunter to buy some condoms. She wondered how he’d like that. Her virgin billionaire didn’t seem to like to go out in public and she suspected the scars were the reason why. He’d probably just delegate the task to Eldon.
And Eldon would disapprove. He disapproved of everything.
The phone rang as she held it, and Gretchen picked up the call automatically. “Hello?”
“Gretchen, honey, tell me you’re hitting send on that Astronaut Bill manuscript as we speak?”
She winced. “Hey, Kat. And um, it’s not done. I still need another week or two.”
“Gretch! You told me you’d have it done in a week . . . two weeks ago.”
“I know. This other project has been a little more . . . time consuming than I thought it would be.” There was that, and the fact that she spent every spare moment trying to seduce the owner of the house she was staying in. But Hunter was just so deliciously bleak and fascinating. She couldn’t stay away from him. Was he in his greenhouse even now, selecting a rose while thinking of her? Why did that make her panties instantly wet just to think about?
“Well, can’t you put the project aside for a few days and finish this other one? Just have Bill shag Uranus in her anus and send it off.”
“Uranea and the publisher would freak out if I threw in butt sex.”
“Whatever, and the publisher’s freaking out right now because you’re grossly overdue. Gretchen, they’re going to fire you if you don’t get this book in. I’m your agent. I’m supposed to tell you when you’re doing bad career moves, right? This is a bad one. Very bad. Can you just sit down and hammer out a few chapters for me? Please?” Kat’s voice turned wheedling. “So I don’t have to make an ugly phone call about how my favorite client didn’t hit her deadline again?”
Gretchen pulled her laptop open and sighed. “I’m pulling up the document as we speak, Kat. I promise.”
“Good. Think you can send it to me by tomorrow?”
“Ummm.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Don’t tell me otherwise.”
“Okay.”
“Since I have you on the phone, I did have a chat with Preston.” Kat paused for dramatic effect.
Gretchen racked her brain for a moment. “Preston Stewart’s the editor for the new publisher, right? What was the name again?”
“That’s him. Bellefleur Publishing.”
“Uh-huh. Did they ask for me because the Astronaut Bill stuff is pulp and I’m used to writing in some sex?”
“Huh? What does that have to do with anything?”
“The letters. Does he know these are dirty letters?”
Kat spluttered. “Say what?”
“I’m serious! The trunk is full of letters between a gal named Lula and her boyfriend, Ben. It took years for them to be together, and so apparently they spent all that time in-between visits sending dirty recaps to each other. Want me to read you a page?”
“Dirty letters? Are you sure?”
Gretchen picked up the letter on the top of the pile. “My dearest Ben. I woke up this morning, my woman’s flesh aching with need for you. I dreamed that you were deep inside me, your rod—”
“Okay, okay!” Kat laughed wildly. “Oh, man. Well, that’s going to be a wicked cool marketing angle, that’s for sure.”
“If you say so,” Gretchen said, amused. “Apparently these two lovebirds went to a lot of Victorian house parties and used every excuse to sneak off and make out while there. They’re kind of creative with things. It’s rather inspiring.”
“I’ll say. Anyhow, back to Preston. He’s super excited about your book, too. How’s it feel to be a lead title, kiddo?”
“I . . . haven’t given it much thought.”
“You haven’t?” Kat gasped. “What’s going on with you, Gretchen?”
“I’ve been, um, distracted. I met a guy.”
“A guy? Audrey told me all about that horrible butler. Don’t tell me you fell for him?”
“Jeez, Kat, when did you talk to Audrey?”
“We went for lunch the other day. I had some books for her to pick up for the charity and we ended up going out for drinkies.”
“I think I need to widen my social circle,” Gretchen muttered. “And no, I didn’t fall for the butler. But I just might be kinda-sorta shagging his boss.”
“You what? The billionaire?”
Count on Kat to be fascinated by the amount of money he had instead of asking anything about him. Gretchen rolled her eyes. “He’s different, Kat. I like him.”
“Of course you like him. He’s rich!”
“Can we talk about something other than how much he makes?”
“Sure. What kind of car does he drive?”
“Not funny. I like him because he’s different, not because he’s rich.”
“I’m just teasing you, Gretchen. It’s good that you met someone. I just wish he wasn’t directly tied to the job you’re doing. As your agent, that makes me a little uncomfortable.”
“It’s not like he’s actually involved in the project,” Gretchen told her. “He just happens to own the house the letters were found in.”
“Very, very dirty letters. You sure you’re not getting inspired by these dirty letters?”
“Give me a little credit?”
“Just a little. I’d like to meet this guy.”
“We’re just fooling around, Kat. It’s not like this is anything official.”
“I don’t care. I still want to meet him. Maybe he has a sexy younger brother.”
“He’s an only child. But I’ll see what I can do about getting some friends together. This house would be a great place to entertain.” Though, the thought of entertaining would probably drive Eldon to drink.
Kat squealed. “Oooh, maybe we can do a Victorian house party! We can invite your editor so he can get excited about the progress you’re making on the book.”
“I don’t know—”
“And the publicist! And a photographer. Think of the angle we can spin on things to get some in-house excitement.”
“I don’t know if the owner of the house is going to be particularly excited about this. He’s pretty reclusive. And by pretty, I mean completely.”
“So, you can just take him into a closet and play Seven Minutes in Heaven or something. Victorian house party coming up! So where’s my invite?”
Gretchen sighed. “Let me work on him, Kat.”
“Tell him it’ll be good for your career. You need as much in-house support as you can get.”
“We’ll see.” But for some reason she was thinking less about her career and more about dragging Hunter into a closet and rocking his socks off. A smile curved her mouth. Maybe this party thing wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
***
“Oh, Astronaut Bill, what can we do? The universe is doomed for sure. The solarship with the cargo full of super-plutonium is headed straight for the galaxy warp. If we can’t get on board somehow, it’ll cut across space and head straight for the planet of my people, Vifraxa. Billions will be doomed.” She wiped unhappy tears from her shining blue eyes. “You must find a way to save them.”