Cunning Linguist: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance Page 4

  “Have you ever watched the show, Layla?” Toby asks.

  I shake my head. “Not really. Just the one last week. But I think everyone’s seen that one by now.”

  He grins. “Fucking awesome, wasn’t it?”

  “Or awesome fucking?”

  Toby laughs loudly and holds his fist out toward me. “Right?” Smiling, I bump my fist against his. “But there was a reason for it. Isn’t that right, Jacob?”

  Now I’m intrigued. He sits back and crosses his arms, looking at Jake to elaborate.

  Jake leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his fingers together. “Absolutely. See, people were questioning me. Doubting the entire premise of my show. We had to put a stop to it.”

  “Because your ego just had to prove them wrong?” I grin.

  “That too,” he jokes. “But also because I want people to believe my message. If they don’t think it’s real, how am I supposed to help anyone?”

  Damn.

  I don’t know what to say to that.

  Toby pipes up again. “One of these days this dude’s going to let me guest host the show. I keep telling him that what better way to prove that good sex is for everyone than for someone else to step up to the plate.”

  Anyone. Everyone. They keep using these words, and it strikes me that the women they’ve chosen are so varied. I assumed that there was a certain type of woman that would come to Jake for “help,” but once again I was wrong. They really do seem to believe this message about helping people.

  When they get back to work, I can’t stop looking at Jake. I’m seeing him in a totally different light. Yeah he’s cocky. But I wasn’t wrong when I thought he had a brain and a heart. And I’m absolutely convinced I’m not wrong about the other skills he possesses.

  “So, what do you think?” Jake asks when they’ve finished going through the applications. His gaze is heated as he watches me. “Am I the arrogant bastard who gets off on people watching me go down on a new woman every night?”

  Wow. That shouldn’t turn me on. But it so fucking does. In the time it takes him to say the words, I’m soaked all over again, just like when I first arrived. It’s insane what this man can do.

  “The jury’s still out, Jacob, but you did claim to be guilty,” I tease.

  He laughs. “Maybe you could use a one-on-one interview to come to your own conclusion.”

  Hell yes I could.

  “Dinner?” he asks with a suggestive smile.

  Dessert sounds better. But dinner is a start. It’s all in the name of research, right? Right.

  I name one of my favorite upscale restaurants and Jake smiles.

  “Perfect.”

  I stand, since we’re done for the day. “Meet me there at eight.”

  Chapter 7

  Jake

  There’s almost nothing as satisfying as a glass of Macallan. Swirling the amber liquid in my glass, I glance around the bar at the restaurant where I’m meeting Layla. I’m not quite sure what she was going for in choosing this place, but if it was romantic, she nailed it.

  Not only is it dark and seductive, the plush private tables scream sex. I can’t wait to get Layla alone in the corner booth I requested the minute I walked in and scoped the place out. Just being here is enough to get anyone in the right frame of mind for a sexy night of fun and pleasure. With my skills at reading both women and situations, I’m pretty sure I could have Layla begging for it before the appetizers even arrive.

  I’ve pretty much been hard for days thinking about her. I don’t know why I can’t seem to get her out of my head. But she’s so fucking delectable, all I want to do is get my lips on her and finally have a taste.

  That sassy little attitude gets me, too. She tries to be professional, but I see right through it. I know she’s attracted to me. That’s not me being a cocky bastard. It’s just the truth. Not gonna lie, I love knowing that she was getting hot for me from the minute she walked in my office this afternoon.

  But she wasn’t alone. Seems like all I can think about is what it'll be like to peel away all those layers of professionalism and see the naughty little sex fiend I know is just beneath the surface.

  I take another sip of the expensive scotch, and then smile into my glass when I see her appear in the entry of the restaurant.

  No way is she going to convince me this is strictly business tonight. Not when she’s wearing a sexy little black dress designed to make men fall to their knees and beg. The dress is fucking short, making her legs look as if they go on for miles. Holy hell, I can’t wait to have those legs wrapped around my neck as I sink into what I know will be the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.

  And that ass. Kill me now. I don’t know how I’m going to make it through the dinner without tearing that dress off her killer body and taking what I want.

  Rising from my barstool, I cross the bar to meet her at the front of the restaurant, my pace a bit more hurried than usual. Yeah, I’ll admit it. I’m fucking ecstatic to see her, and more than ready to get this night started.

  “Layla. You look stunning.” I take her hand in mine and lift it to my lips just like I did the first day we met, but this time I let my mouth linger, my lips parted slightly so she can feel the heat of my breath, the hint of my tongue.

  A shiver runs through her, and her eyes widen slightly before darkening with pure lust. Fuck yes. Can I just take a minute and say how completely satisfying it is to know that the woman I’ve been fantasizing about for days is responding to me just the way I want? You might think I’m used to women falling all over me. And you’d be right. But when it happens all the time, and your day job is to eat pussy as if your life depends on it, things can get a bit routine.

  Not with Layla. I haven’t felt a rush of anticipation like this in a long time.

  “Shall we?” she says, her lips curving in a seductive smile.

  Releasing her hand, I tuck her in against my side, letting my hand rest low on her hip as we follow the maître d’ through the restaurant to the secluded corner table. After we’re alone again, I lean in close, running my finger along her neck as she watches me, her breath coming fast and heavy already.

  “Let’s not talk about work tonight.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” she replies, her voice husky. “Though I’m not sure if anything qualifies as work for you. I’d assume business and pleasure kind of bleed together for you.”

  I lean in and whisper in her ear. “Tonight is all about pleasure.” Then because I can’t resist, I run my lips lightly along her jaw. I’m rewarded with a slight gasp that goes straight to my cock.

  “So, tell me something I don’t already know about you, Jacob.”

  I laugh and shake my head in amusement. “Aren’t we friends by now?”

  “Friends?” Layla fingers the collar of my dress shirt. “I’m not quite sure that’s what I’d call it. Jury’s still out, remember?”

  This girl. “Okay, something you don’t know.” I think for a moment. My life is pretty much an open book with my very public persona. “Oh, I’ve got it. How about that before I decided to study psychology, I was an art history major for two semesters.”

  Her body is already angled toward mine, but she turns fully toward me now, her eyes wide. “Seriously? I’m obsessed with art history and fine art. My dream job was working as a curator for the Smithsonian.”

  I smile. “Yet you work for the FCC.”

  Layla wiggles her finger at me and makes a tsk sound. “No, no. Didn’t you say tonight is for pleasure? Don’t let me catch you mentioning that four-letter word again.”

  I hold my hands up. “Guilty.” Then I give her a wink. “You might just have to punish me for it.”

  The server appears just as she’s about to reply, and I order for us. Over dinner, we continue talking about how much we both enjoy fine art.

  “You know,” she says after we finish eating, “we said no work talk, but I have to ask.”

  I lift an eyebrow. She do
esn’t sound all-business like she can, and the look on her face is anything but professional. “Ask away.”

  “So, I’ve watched a few episodes of your show now, and there’s one thing I’m really curious about.” She pauses, and then licks her bottom lip. “Your technique.”

  Oh hell yes. Game on, baby.

  “Well, it’s not so much something that I can describe with words. It’s really something you have to experience for yourself.” Hey, what can I say? She asked. Layla almost looks disappointed because obviously I’m not about to crawl under the table and eat her out. Well, I guess I could, but I’m pretty sure we’d be kicked right out of the restaurant, regardless of who I am.

  I can’t have her looking like that so I add, “But I’m not just a cunning linguist. I happen to be pretty good with my hands.”

  The naughty smile that curves her mouth makes me even harder, and I wonder how much more of this my cock can take. When her knee bumps against mine, I realize she’s just spread her legs for me. Not one to say no to an invitation like that, I lean in and whisper in her ear, then kiss her neck with a slow, teasing press of my lips that promises of more to come later.

  Then when she’s practically writhing on the seat, her breath coming in shallow pants, I slide my hand up her thigh and run my finger across her pussy lips.

  And holy fucking hell. The woman is fucking drenched. She’s so wet and warm that I can’t resist plunging my fingers inside with several quick thrusts.

  A strangled moan starts to escape her lips, and I cover her mouth with mine to muffle the sounds of her pleasure. I certainly didn’t intend to jump right in. I’m all about the slow build. But she feels so damn good and I can’t make myself slow down. Especially not when I feel her pussy clench around my fingers and a gush of wetness flows over my hand.

  So. Fucking. Hot.

  I want to taste her so badly, but she’s already starting to come, and right now it’s all about her.

  Continuing my urgent strokes, I sweep my thumb across her swollen clit, and that’s all it takes. Layla comes apart in my arms, opening her mouth against mine. I caress her tongue with my own as I keep the pace, pushing her further and further, not easing up as her orgasm gets stronger and stronger.

  She clutches at my shoulders, her hips buck wildly, and hot, wet heat radiates all around my fingers as she comes so fucking hard that it takes all my self control not to flip her around, climb up behind her, and fuck her so hard that just the sights and sounds of us make every other dude in the restaurant jizz in their pants.

  “Jacob,” she moans against my mouth as she collapses back, her body still quaking with aftershocks. She stares at me in shock. Then because I just have to know if she’s as sweet as I’ve imagined, I pull my dripping fingers from her hot pussy and bring them to my lips, smiling as I lick her juices off.

  I groan, needing more of this. I don’t even care that we’re in the restaurant anymore. I want her. And I’m going to have her.

  Chapter 8

  Layla

  I can’t believe I just came in the restaurant. Jake makes women come on television with his face on their pussy, but this is just the two of us, in a restaurant, and banquette seating is not the same as stadium seating, you know?

  Still, I can’t help but want more!

  Jake looks at me, slowly taking the tip of his finger to his mouth and sucking my cum off, his tongue lapping up my juices.

  That tongue…yeah. He says he’s good with his fingers too, and he is. But you know I’m thinking about a certain famous tongue. I want to know what that cock’s got in store for me, though, and post-orgasm, I can’t resist being even naughtier.

  “Jacob,” I breathe, my voice still shaky from my silent but less than still orgasm just moments ago. “Fuck me, right here in this restaurant.” The words come out and even though I said them, I’m still shocked by them.

  And the words? They just keep coming. “I know you’re hard. I know you want it, too.” Who am I right now, and why do I love this newer, more empowered to ‘slut it up’ me?

  Jake laughs but this is no innocent sound, but full of a consuming lust that is going to incinerate us both. “How could I not be hard with the way that you moaned, or rather squeezed your thighs against my hand and shuddered and tried not to moan, just a few seconds ago?” He runs a finger over my thighs. “You’re still flushed. I can smell your pussy right now. I know you want me right now as much I want you.”

  My legs are quivering now. That stroking finger isn’t enough when what I really want is his cock inside me.

  For a second I literally don’t know how the hell he can fuck me right here in this restaurant booth, but the banquette seating is my opening.

  Jake already has a plan, lifting up my leg and pushing my thong to the side again. I’m still so sticky and wet from the orgasm he gave me. The sight of him licking my cum off his fingers is easily one of the most sensual things I’ve ever seen.

  I lick my lips and he looks at me, his hands circling my waist. I spread my thighs for him and lean in to kiss Jake, tasting myself on his lips.

  My tongue slides along his as our bodies press together in frenzied lust. My pussy calling for him and I’m a ravenous, wild person I hardly recognize with just how much I want him. I take a hand to free his cock from his trousers and his boxers, ready to do something so wild. I mean, no one is going to suspect we’re doing this, really. I just came but no one is analyzing my face, and my flush right now. No one is thinking about how they can smell my pussy in the air…and if they are, they’re going to keep it to themselves.

  Or they aren’t.

  I can’t find a way to care because I just want him, need him inside of me.

  With Jake’s hands on my hips, he lifts me up so that the head of his cock is lined with my opening, before sliding me onto his hard shaft. A slow moan escapes me, and my hips begin to wave, as Jake looks at me and we're both shocked by how perfectly we fit together.

  Our bodies move slowly together as he slides and sits up so that his hand is cradling my neck, guiding me on and off of his cock.

  My breathing is unsteady, my balance on him is tenuous, but the sensual feel of him inside me even though we’re sitting in a public dining area…it shoots a thrill through my body that pulses right to my clit. My pussy clenches around Jake’s cock. The slow rhythm is tantalizingly good and I have never felt so incredible in my life.

  Jake does something to me. Something so wicked and delicious that I don’t want to stop. I think this is my favorite thing on the menu here…

  “Just like that, Layla,” he begins before adding, “nice and slow. Let me fuck you right here, with all these people, and you don’t care because you just want me too bad to care.”

  I do as he instructs and continue to lift my body and lower onto him. Seeing his expression of pleasure gives me the energy I need to continue, increasing my pace.

  Jake’s hands grip around my breasts, sliding into the fabric of my dress and massaging me while lifting his hips to press further inside of me. I know someone could look at us right now and they’d know what we’re doing, that maybe I should push his hand away. Maybe not let him feel up my tits and fuck me right here in the restaurant.

  “Mmm…” he moans when I lean down and kiss his neck with my tongue.

  I know, that’s kind of a risk, what if someone knows, right?

  “Yes! Oh, Jacob, baby,” I moan a little less than quietly, my orgasm already brewing deep within me.

  I don’t care right now if anyone knows. I fucking need him and I need how he makes my body feel.

  “I would fuck you anywhere. With all these people here, it's just you and I, in my mind,” he says, gripping my hips to guide me, and move my body to and away from him in a rhythmic way. “I’m going to take you deeper, right here. I need to fuck you, Layla.”

  With my knees pushing me up, as my hips grind and twirl before lowering onto his cock, taking him deep inside of me. I whimper in ecstasy as my pussy gri
ps around him, my inner walls stretching to fit him perfectly. I can see the pleasure on his face as his eyes darken, hooded by lust. The sensations flow through my body as I grip onto his shoulders for leverage, helping me power on, with zero care in the world that I could be facing my own kind of fine for the public shenanigans that we’re up to. But I want him. I want Jake so damn much I might actually scream as he keeps fucking me, thrusting deeper and a little bit harder so that I’m aching with the rising heat building up inside me.

  “We’re not done yet,” I say, my voice breathy with how aroused I am. I pull my legs up even more, scooting my ass up higher, and I pull Jake’s cock out, running it and my sticky wetness down my pussy and to my ass.

  “Fuck, you want me to fuck your ass right here, baby?” Jake says, his voice thick with lust. “You’re a very bad girl, Layla. I fucking love it,” Jake says with a laugh.

  I grab his cock with both of my hands and angle it upward, aiming it straight at my ass and knowing that he’s coated in my pussy’s juices and that he’ll be a tight fit, but I can and will take Jake in my ass right now, right here with all these people. A cursory glance tells me that a few people notice that we’re fucking. They aren’t making any moves to tell anyone to stop us. They want to see us fuck.

  And even though I didn’t expect to enjoy it...I do.

  I take Jake’s cock at once, pressing his cock at my ass and taking all of his cock inside me. The fullness makes me gasp and my eyes roll back in their orbits.

  Jake pinches one of my nipples and I yelp out at the intensity of the sensation. I roll my hips and start to bounce on him, not letting his cock leave me more than a little. I want to take him deep, keeping him inside me, fucking my ass in public.

  I suck in ragged lungfuls of air, the sensations all overwhelming me to the point where I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold back a loud, intense orgasm, and I don’t know if I want to.

  Perhaps knowing how truly close I am, Jake places both his hands on my ass cheeks and spreads them wide, pushing me even deeper on him. He grips me and pulls me against him, the rhythm so intense and his cock so deep inside of me that I cry out, my voice just above a whisper but shaking. “Oh, fuck, that’s...Oh, God,” I moan as he rams his cock inside my ass, his hips slamming into me and making sure that I’m still taking him so deep. My body is burning up at the intensity of him fucking me, making me come again. “I’m coming!” The frantic whisper tears from my throat as a violent orgasm flows out of me, overtaking my conscious mind and pulling it down into the abyss of ecstasy.