Hump Day: Calista Fox's The Billionaires: The Bosses

THE BILLIONAIRES: THE BOSSES by Calista FoxWe've made it to Wednesday, which is cause for celebration in our book! And you know how we like to celebrate at RT? With sexy excerpts! Today we've got a steamy scene from Calista Fox's The Billionaires: The Bosses. This RT Top Pick! is the story of Bayli, who heads to New York to make it in modeling, but ends up between two very sexy restauranteurs — who don't mind sharing women. Steam ensues! To the excerpt!

Bayli’s breath caught. She gazed into warm, seductive brown eyes that made her body blaze and her inner thighs flare with heat and desire. 
It was bizarre that she reacted just as vehemently to Rory as she did to Christian. Both men enticed her; both men made her blood sing. Both left her with the unyielding need to be stripped bare and ravaged. Until she was limp and boneless and deliriously happy. No dismal thoughts consuming her mind. No doubts and misgivings holding her back. 
She wanted to be left in a blissful, mind-numbing state. Christian had started her down that path the previous evening, giving her what she’d needed, what they’d both wanted. 
Now she burned for Rory to do the same. To pick up where Christian had left off. 
Against his lips, she asked, “Can the duck wait an hour or so?” 
A sexy growl escaped him. Exciting her even more. “Some question to ask a chef. If you were any other woman, I’d say no.” 
Bayli wound her arms around his neck. Pressed her body to his. Reveled in his flexed muscles and delicious scent. Her lips skimmed along his jaw as she whispered, “Show me I’m not just ‘any other woman.’ . . .”
“Bayli.” The tote dropped to the floor and his arms snaked around her waist. Clasping her tight. But then he let out another growl, this one a bit on the frustrated side. He said, “Fuck.” Released her. Grabbed the bag and stalked into the apartment.
She sighed. Tried to get her bearings. Eventually followed him in. The man was so close to blowing his top—she sensed it, felt it. But he was Mr. Perfect who was also Mr. Responsible, it seemed.
Rory shoved the bag into the fridge and then raked his hands through his messy hair. He turned back to Bayli, who watched him with curiosity and anticipation.
He read her well. Read her innate need for him. He sauntered toward her in a predatory way and lifted her up, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist as her skirt hitched a couple inches.
Another sensual sound fell from his lips. “I imagined these long legs circling my hips the moment I got a glimpse of them.”
“I really didn’t think you’d noticed anything beyond salads scattered on the floor.”
“You are impossible to overlook.”
He carried her toward the living area, which stretched between the entryway/library and the vast open kitchen and dining combo. Tall windows showcased the park, but Bayli couldn’t be bothered with admiring that particular view when she was staring at such a gorgeous man. And instantly fantasizing about all the things he might do to her now that he had her alone in his apartment.
He set her on her feet before the sofa and reached for a remote to flip on the gas fireplace and a little mood music.
“Mm, romantic,” she murmured as her lips grazed his neck.
His head dropped and he kissed her with the same reckless abandon as when they’d been at the market. His arms wound around her and he crushed her to him, her breasts pressing below his hard pecs, her belly cradling his erection.
Her fingers curled into his rock-hard biceps and she let him control the searing kiss, his tongue doing crazy-wicked things to hers that made her pulse soar and her insides sizzle.
One of his hands shifted and slid down to her ass. He cupped a cheek and squeezed roughly, causing her to rub against the powerful thigh wedged between her parted legs. And sending bolts of excitement through her.
That wasn’t enough for her and he seemed to know it—or perhaps it wasn’t enough for him, either. He jerked the side of her skirt up farther and then went back to kneading her ass, now it being her bare skin under his fingers. Her clit continued to grind against his leg. Her soaked thong no doubt dampened the denim he wore.
His fingers slipped behind the strand of her thong, nestled in her cleft. He stroked the sensitive skin, his touch scorching hot and forbidden as he rimmed the small hole with the pad of his thumb while caressing her opening with a finger.
Her body tensed involuntarily at the not-so-subtle probing.
She broke the kiss. “Rory—”
“Shh.” His mouth sealed hers again.
His long finger eased into her pussy from behind, and it felt incredibly good. A second one followed. He explored her wet depths and she opened to him. He pumped slowly but steadily within her and the tension began to mount, pulling taut.
He deepened their kiss. And Bayli knew she was about to lose it completely.
His thumb pressed in and she jumped in his tight embrace. He dragged his mouth from hers and she gasped for a breath.
“You’re close . . . ,” Rory said.
“So close.” Her hands tightened around his arms.
“Don’t fight it,” he whispered against her temple. “Don’t fight me.”
She knew what he meant. That foreign, slightly burning sensation of her backside had her on high alert for what he might have planned for her. But as his fingers stroked and his warm lips skimmed over her cheek and across her lips, she couldn’t deny the need swelling within her.
“I want to feel you fall apart for me,” he said. “Then I want to taste your pussy.”
A low whimper tumbled from her gaping mouth. A shudder ran through her.
He pumped harder and her head buzzed with lustful thoughts while her body flamed from his nearness, his ministrations, his words.
He kissed her again, so feverishly, so desperately, that everything building within her instantly collided and erupted. She tore her mouth from his and cried out as the orgasm blazed through her, setting every inch of her on fire.
“Oh, God,” she moaned on a broken breath. “Oh, my God.” Her body quaked. Her inner walls held fast to his fingers, squeezing tight as she savored every second of the climax, prolonging it as much as possible.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “You make me so damn hot.”
She was still recovering from the sizzle through her veins as he withdrew his fingers, unzipped her skirt, and shoved it down her legs. He had her out of her blouse just as quickly. Then he eased her down onto the sofa, where she sprawled out, her shoulders and head propped against a mound of pillows in the corner.
Rory’s hungry gaze roved over her, leaving her with an insistent need to feel his hands and mouth on her.
He didn’t waste any time, or give her more than a moment of wishful thinking. He knelt alongside the sofa and peeled her thong down her legs.
“Sexy as this is, it has to go.” He tossed the scant material onto her pile of clothing. Then he reached around her to unclasp her bra and he whisked it off as well. “Jesus, you really are sensational.”

“Stop admiring and start touching,” she urged, her heart pounding, every fiber of her being yearning for him.
“Tasting,” he reminded her. He whipped his tee over his head and discarded it, then spread her thighs and settled between them.
His head dipped and he inhaled her scent. Let out a guttural, primal sound that turned her on even more, flooding her body with heat.
Rory’s tongue swept slowly over her slick folds, the intimate touch jarring her. Possibly because Christian’s head had been between her legs the night before and it was an enticing thought to speculate over how different their techniques might be. But more than that, it was thrilling to know this man wanted to pleasure her this way—as Christian had. And that Rory wanted to sample her cream, revel in the very essence of her.
He licked languidly, making her squirm with anticipation. But she did nothing to hurry him along. Let him tug gently on her pussy lips with his mouth, let him tease her swollen clit with the tip of his tongue as it swirled and pressed, then fluttered.
Oh, Christ, the fluttering . . .
A long stream of air blew through her teeth.
This really was different from Christian. He’d been purposeful and determined. Aggressive. He’d eaten her pussy with fervor and the need to get her off. It had been fucking fantastic.
But this . . . Jesus. Rory was taking his time. Torturing her in the absolute sexiest way as his tongue circled the knot of nerves, then toyed with her dewy folds, then lapped over her opening, before tracing the flesh. Slightly penetrating, retreating, penetrating.
“Rory,” she said on a sharp murmur. “You’re driving me wild.”
“Good.” His hot breath on her moist flesh lit her up even more. He draped one of her legs over his shoulder, the crook behind her knee resting on his traps. “You taste like heaven. I’m just going to spend a little more time here, if you don’t mind.”
She nearly choked on a sob. “This could very well be the death of me.”
“I think you can handle it.” His lips grazed her lower ones as he spoke. Teasing her senseless.
“Don’t be too sure.” The scintillating sensations were boiling once again.
Rory’s tongue swiped over her labia with more pressure this time. The tip flicked her clit—with more pressure this time. Then he suckled the little pearl, his teeth grazing, the suctioning pulling at the tiny bud.
“Shit,” she ground out. “Rory, that’s just . . . That’s so . . . Oh, fuck.” One of her hands threaded through his thick, lush hair. The other slid under her hip, spreading wide the leg not draped over his shoulder. “Do that again.”
He repeated the sequence.
“Yes,” she practically wailed as her body writhed and excitement ripped through her. “Again,” she quietly demanded.
He didn’t hesitate. Added a little to his repertoire at the end, licking her with fervor, his tongue really stroking with the intent to make her come again. His hand slipped under her thigh to tangle with hers just below her hip and he held on. Suckled all her tingly flesh and pushed her higher and higher.
As he returned to licking, two fingers from his free hand plunged into her and he stroked her quickly, the pace and the force sending her barreling toward another orgasm. One that would have her screaming his name, she had no doubt.
Her hand clasped his tighter beneath her leg. Rory worked a third finger into her. Twisted them just as he drew her clit against his teeth.
“Oh, Christ—Rory!” She did scream. And climaxed with such intensity, her body bowed off the cushion beneath her and her pussy clamped around his fingers, milking them, bringing her even more pleasure.
“Yes,” he muttered, his mouth hovering over her. “Come for me. Come all over my fingers.”
She could feel they were coated as they still slid along her inner walls. Pushing just a bit deeper to keep her free-falling into sexual bliss.
“Goddamn, you’re tight. And so fucking responsive.”
Christian had said the same thing. They apparently cataloged similar feminine traits with their women.
Rory released the hand he was holding and deftly unfastened his belt and jeans, jamming the material—along with his boxer briefs—down his hips. Then he withdrew his fingers from her and stroked his cock with her juices.
“Jesus, Rory,” she said on a harsh breath as another blaze sparked between her legs. He fisted his cock and pumped while his gaze locked with hers. Bayli’s chest heaved. She couldn’t quite get a grip on herself but knew exactly what she wanted to do for him.
“Let me,” she simply said. And slipped from the couch to kneel before him.
Her hand replaced his on his shaft and she held him firmly as her head lowered and her tongue slid over his hot, slick skin. She tasted herself, mixed with his distinct flavor . . . and the combination was a heady one.
Bayli’s mouth closed around his tip and she slowly drew him in, his cock heavy against her tongue. His fingers plowed through her hair, which was already a tangled mess as the strands escaped the ponytail.
She took him as deep as she could while her fingers remained around his root. She sucked him hard and his body jolted.
“Fuck, yes,” he murmured. “Like that.”
She repeated the gesture, sucking with a bit more force.
Perhaps too much force, because he jerked her head up.
“Don’t make me come. Not yet.” He gently set her away from him and stood. He whisked off the rest of his clothes and pulled a condom from his wallet. “I need to be inside you when I come. Really deep inside you, honey.” 
His prominent features had turned to stone, need etching every chiseled-to-perfection inch of him.
Bayli was breathless, captivated. Dripping wet from the desire and raw intensity exuding from him. Hell, it practically rolled off him in waves. Exciting her to the point of fear. The good kind of fear, she mentally contended. The kind that told her she was in for something far beyond her comprehension.
Even Christian’s mad skills in the bedroom had come with a certain level of understanding on his part that she was fragile in a sense, sexually. He’d known she hadn’t been with anyone in a long while—and he’d learned a great deal about her emotional state before they’d become intimately involved.
Rory didn’t know quite so much about her. And she wasn’t inclined to explain it all. Because she wanted him feasting on her the way he did with his smoldering irises and she wanted him exuding that silent demand that she surrender to him . . . somehow knowing he would do the same.
She eased back onto the sofa. Spread her legs. “Fuck me.” Her chest rose and fell rapidly again. She had no control over her pounding heart and erratic pulse. “I want to feel you hot and hard inside me, Rory. I want you to fuck me hard. Until you can’t take it anymore. Until you have to come.”
His jaw clenched.
She said, “I want to feel every inch of you, and I don’t want you holding back the tiniest bit. Unleash all of your passion on me. You haven’t been in a kitchen since this morning, right? That has to have you teeming with the need for some sort of release. Make me your release.”
“Do it.” She hadn’t missed the warning in his tone. Nor did she care about it. “Do me.”
He was sheathed moments later. His gaze continued to hold hers as he moved in close, spiking her adrenaline, keeping her juices flowing.
Her fingers grazed over his sculpted cheeks and set jaw. Down his thick, corded throat to his collarbone. Lower to his chest. One nail scraped his small, pebbled nipple. He smirked.
“Careful there, beauty queen. Payback can be a real bitch.”
He nipped at the corner of her mouth. “You didn’t tease Christian like this, did you?”
“He’s more the sort to be direct with, you know? Like . . . ‘let’s get down to brass tacks.’”
“Isn’t that what we’re doing?”
“Well, yes. I did tell you to fuck me.”
He gently bit her jaw, her neck. “Say it again.”
“Seriously?” she asked, breathy and wiggling beneath him. Her hand skated down his heavily muscled back to his bare ass. “Are you worried I might change my mind once you’re inside me?”
“I don’t make love,” he told her as he stared into her eyes. “Just so you know.”
Everything inside her went haywire. “Rory. The way you just—”
“I don’t,” he insisted. Not even wanting to hear that the way he’d just set her off had been all about his extreme attention to detail. Using every single one of her whimpers, moans, and sighs as it had escaped her parted lips as a guide.
But . . . okay. She’d play along.
“Say it,” he commanded.
Her gaze didn’t waver. “Fuck me. Like you really and truly can’t get enough of me.”
His strong forearm hooked under her leg, at the bend in her knee, and he lifted it, widening her for his entry. The head of his cock nudged her opening. His eyes didn’t leave hers. There were questions and answers not necessarily correlating with each other in his dark gaze. She had no delusions she was in over her head. Maybe he felt the same way.
All she knew at the moment was that she needed him inside her, wanted him to take everything he needed from her.
His lips swept over hers and he said, “You really do bring out the animal in me.”
He thrust into her.
So very fucking deep into her.
Bayli cried out. Not from pain—from sheer and utter ecstasy.
He recognized the difference. And instantly retreated and plunged with the sort of diligence that pushed the air from her lungs and had her hips lifting off the sofa to meet every assertive thrust.
His mouth was on her throat and he bit her with each stroke, sending shock waves through her. The sensual assault was frenetic and electrifying.
Rory slipped a hand under her ass and tilted her hips, giving him a better angle, better leverage to drive into her. Bayli clutched at him. With her fingernails digging into his shoulders, with her pussy contracting around his cock.
Jesus, he was thick and wide . . . and filled her so beautifully.
His hips bucked and he jarred her with his fervent movements— she loved every second of it.
“You feel so damn good,” he told her. “So fucking good.”
Bayli couldn’t get a word out. Couldn’t speak around the oh, hell, yes, please keep doing this to me! lodged in her throat.
He was hammering into her, the head of his cock hitting that precious spot that made unfamiliar and untamed sounds lurch from low in her throat. Made her mind swim in a sea of erotic thoughts. Made her body quiver and her insides home in on every sensation that expanded and coalesced and then once again erupted.
“Rory!” she called out. “Oh! Oh, God!”
“Bayli,” he grunted. “Honey . . . not so tight. Don’t squeeze me so damn . . . Ah, hell!” He pumped into her. “Not so fucking tight . . .”
But she knew it was too late. He knew it was too late.
She couldn’t stop. Neither could he.
His hips continued to surge; his cock swelled. She felt the throbbing within her, even as she succumbed to her own orgasm.
And sensed another building behind it.
Rory’s hand on her ass clasped her cheek tightly, kept her angled just right. His mouth was on her neck, tugging at the skin with his teeth, soothing the bites with his tongue.
“Shit . . . ,” he said on a rough sigh. Then, “Oh, hell, yes.”
He gave a final thrust. His body convulsed, his cock exploded deep within her.
“Oh, God, Rory!” She came again on a rush of heat and a wave of euphoria. “Oh, fuck.”
She held him to her as they both lost themselves in the heat of the moment, in the electrifying release.
Bayli had absolutely no desire to move. To return to reality. To face the fact that she was drowning in a sexual abyss created by two unbelievably sensual, talented men . . . and she didn’t want anything or anyone to encroach on the most incredible fantasy/ fairy tale any woman could ever wish for. . . .
Copyright © 2017 by Calista Fox and reprinted by permission of St. Martin’s Griffin.
The Billionaires: The Bosses will be available in stores and online September 5. You can preorder your copy here: Amazon | | iBooks | Kobo | GooglePlay. And if it's more Hump Day excerpts you're after, we've got ya covered

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