Page 11 of The Billionaire's Secret Heart

"Can you tell me what you're working on?"

It was a reasonable question. There were projects that were confidential. If he ran WGC, he knew all about confidential tech. As Emily had mentioned, they were currently working on two projects that the gaming world would love to know about.

"I can, a little." Trying not to bore him to death, I explained about the spatial mapping glasses and helping the blind navigate without a cane.

"How does the phone communicate obstacles?" Holden asked, sounding interested.

"Right now, we're working on a kind of Morse code in vibrations. We've got a consult from linguistics helping us work out the best way to communicate non-verbally."

"Very cool," he said. "How do you know the problem is your code?"

"I don't. It could be the hardware. But the issue is in the connection between the glasses and the phone. We're using Bluetooth, and I wrote that part of the app. We can't get it to connect. Of all the problems . . ." I shook my head in frustration.

"I know. I always get more pissed when the bug is something basic. How many times do you connect with Bluetooth?"

"Exactly," I said, gratified that he got why I was so pissed. "My headphones link up automatically. It should be the spatial mapping causing the problem, not the Bluetooth. We're going to connect a phone with hardwire so we can work on that while I try to debug the app."

I was surprised to realize we were already at Holden's building. Of all the things I'd imagined for our date, a conversation about my work hadn't been one of them. I realized I was a little shallow, expecting that someone as hot and rich as Holden wouldn't have a brain. Given that he owned and ran both a successful nightclub and a gaming company, I should have known better. I watched him do the palm print thing to get the elevator working and said, "I'm guessing you don't have many uninvited guests."

"No, not many. Unless they're family. They show up uninvited all the time."

Guilt hit me as we entered his apartment. I'd looked him up, talked about him with Emily, and now I knew all these personal things about him. It felt invasive and wrong. Suddenly uncomfortable, I stepped away from him and blurted out, "Emily told me who you are. I mean, about your family, and that you own the club and WGC."

Holden shrugged, his mouth tight. "I was going to tell you," he said. "It's not a secret."

"I wasn't trying to pry." Holden looked so uncomfortable, I felt terrible for saying anything. "I'm sorry about your family." I had to stop talking without thinking. I worried that I'd made things worse, but his mouth softened and he said,

"It was a long time ago."

"I'm still sorry."

"So am I. But the rest of my family is pretty tight. We got through it."

I wondered if you could ever really get over such loss, but I managed to keep my mouth shut. Mostly. "I'm sorry I brought it up," I said, "But I didn't like knowing that much about you and not saying anything."

I trailed off when he took my hand and pulled me to him, wrapping his strong arms around my waist as he studied my face with warm, serious eyes.

"You're not like any woman I've dated before," he said. "The women I know would be trying to play me, and you're honest to a fault."

I opened my mouth to say something—I had no idea what, but probably something embarrassing. Holden saved me from myself. His mouth came down on mine, his lips pressing in a gentle kiss before his tongue flicked out, tasting me. My body caught fire. Without thinking, I pressed closer, parting my legs a little, feeling his cock swell behind his jeans.

I reached out my tongue to touch his. The instant we connected, the kiss exploded. His arms tightened, drawing me hard against him. His mouth was hungry, moving against mine in a kiss so blatantly possessive, so claiming, it would have hurt if it hadn't felt so perfect. Just as I was getting my bearings, Holden lifted me. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around his hips as he carried me to his kitchen.

"I've been staring at my island all day, wishing I'd done this last night." He set me down on the hard surface and said, "Unbutton your jeans."

At his order and the thrill of his hot, dark eyes on me, a rush of wet heat hit between my legs. Normally, I didn't like being told what to do, but when Holden got bossy with me, I loved it. With shaking hands, I unsnapped my jeans. Sitting on the counter, it was impossible to push them down, but I slowly lowered the zipper, loving the way his eyes flared at the rasp of metal. I hooked my thumbs at the waist and waited. I wasn't disappointed.

"Lay back and slide off your jeans," Holden ordered, his voice rough.

I did as he commanded, the marble deliciously cool against my heated skin. Staring up at the high ceiling of Holden's kitchen, I wiggled my hips and pushed both my jeans and my underwear down. When they were far enough, I let gravity do the work, kicking my feet a few times until the fabric hit the floor in a soft thump. I waited, the tension in my belly winding tighter. He was silent, unmoving, and I started to feel exposed.

"Now your shirt. Take it all off."

In my head, I stripped off my shirt and bra in a sexy, graceful tease. I think reality was more of a rushed fumble, but I didn't care. I wanted to be naked for Holden. I needed whatever was going to come next.

Again, he fell silent, and I waited, feeling my pussy getting wetter, my bare nipples drawing tighter, my entire body readying for him. When I felt a finger land on the inside of my right knee, tracing a line up to my pussy, I knew what to do.

With a moan that was half-anticipation and half-pleasure, I opened my legs. The stroke of his tongue, following the path of his finger, was a decadent torture. He was close, so close, to touching me where I needed him the most. I opened my legs wider, inviting him in. He didn't make me wait. His tongue came down flat on my clit, tasting, pressing, dragging a high-pitched sound from my throat.