The Millionaire Affair
by Jessica Lemmon
Published: June 24, 2014
About THE MILLIONAIRE AFFAIR:
Millionaire ad executive Landon Downey has a policy: no romantic relationships allowed. So when he's saddled with his six-year-old nephew for a week, he doesn't think twice about asking a female friend to act as live-in nanny. What he doesn't expect is the palpable attraction to the woman he hasn't seen in sixteen years. And not only does she like him back, she suggests they work their way down a list of extracurricular activities in thebedroom. How can he resist? Kimber Reynolds knows what she's doing. Sort of. Tired of every failed attempt to turn her past relationships into her own happily-ever-afters, she's determined to prove once and for all that she can love em and leave em with the best of them. All she has to do is keep her heart out of the agreement she's made with the man she's crushed on for a decade and a half. No problem. Their string-free arrangement turns downright stringy when Landon starts to feel more for the redhead than good old fashioned lust, and Kimber has a scare involving a plastic stick and one-or-more blue lines. With the pressure mounting and their hearts involved, will these two be able to keep their original promise and walk away from one another?
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About Jessica Lemmon:
Jessica Lemmon has always been a dreamer. At some point, she decided head-in-the-clouds thinking was childish, went out, and got herself a job . . . and then she got another one because that one was lousy. And when that one stopped being fulfilling, she went out and got another . . . and another. Soon it became apparent she'd only be truly happy doing what she loved. And since "eating potato chips" isn't a viable career, she opted to become a writer. With fire in her heart, she dusted off a book she'd started years prior, finished it, and submitted it. It may have been the worst book ever, but it didn't stop her from writing another one. Now she has several books finished, several more started, and even more marinating in her brain (which currently resides inthe clouds, thankyouverymuch), and she couldn't be happier. She firmly believes God gifts us with talents for a purpose, and with His help, you can create the life you want. (While eating potato chips.)
“Just because I follow my heart,” she said adamantly, her face a confusion of strength and hurt. “Just because I’m transparent and not in control of my every body movement”—she gestured with her hands, sending her small breasts sliding against the shirt and turning him on even more—“doesn’t mean I’m a doe-eyed innocent. I know what I’m doing. I think I can handle kissing you without losing all essence of who I am.” She leaned in and clutched the tie around his neck. “I am an independent, intelligent woman who does not need to be saved from anyone. Least of all you.”
She was a woman all right. A seething, beautiful woman who was very close to him and smelling like the cucumber body wash stocked in her bathroom. He knew. He’d grown accustomed to the warm, sweet scent that eked its way into the hall every morning after her shower.
“I wasn’t being insulting,” he said, hiding his amusement.
“Yes you were,” she challenged, tugging him closer. He went, the tension pulling the tie against the back of his neck, unable to keep from admiring how beautiful she was, even this close. Natural, naked skin, full lips… “But I forgive you.”
The side of his mouth ticked. He was going to kiss her again. But he’d give her a chance to make the first move. She did, fisting his tie even tighter and laying her lips onto his, but she didn’t stop there. She swung her leg over his lap and settled on top of him. She sat right over his manhood, heat emanating from her core and through his slacks.
He didn’t usually find himself turned on by being put in his place. Was rarely ever put in his place, come to think of it. He would concede he’d given Kimber less credit than she deserved. Either she knew what she wanted, or had opted to take the upper hand when she found herself at a disadvantage. He respected both tactics.
She deepened the kiss, running her hands through his hair and clutching his head. His hands went to her butt, cupping and kneading the soft globes in his palms, stopping short of grinding her against him and relieving the painful ache pounding his balls like a pair of bongos.
She stroked his tongue with hers, completely in control of this kiss and knowing where to take him. He fought to keep pace, to figure out what she might do next, to catch the curveballs she was throwing. God, it was exciting. Amazing. The not-knowing…who knew that could be so enthralling?
Then she stopped. Abruptly. Just turned off like a switch, climbed off his lap, reclaimed her wine, and settled onto the cushion she’d been lounging on when he’d first walked out here.
He licked the side of his mouth, still tasting her there, his hands at his sides, chest heaving, hair probably a mess from her roaming fingers.
She wouldn’t look at him, a study in casualness except for the one hand forced into a fist at her side. Trying to keep herself from fidgeting, no doubt. She was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. And she’d more than proved her point. If he wanted a partner to spar with, in bed or out, she was a worthy opponent not some delicate flower he had to handle with care.
Giving in and moving the hand she’d forcibly stilled, she pushed her hair over her shoulder and studied the skyline. The moon was an unimpressive half, not the fancy crescent or mournful full. His chin was elevated when she spoke next, her words stunning him so much, he snapped his head to face her.
“Hope no one saw that and is uploading it to YouTube.” She blinked as if she’d stunned herself, too. “I’m so sorry. That was…wow. Rude. I’m sorry.”
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