Give Me More--A Sexy Billionaire Romance

A.C. Arthur is an award-winning author who lives in Baltimore, Maryland, with her husband, three children, grandson and English bulldog named Vader. An active imagination and a love for reading encouraged her to begin writing in high school, and she hasn’t stopped since.


If you liked Give Me More, why not try
With the Lights On by Jackie Ashenden
Hold Me by Anne Marsh
Skin Deep by Lauren Hawkeye
Also by A.C. Arthur
The Fabulous Golds
A Private Affair
At Your Service
The Last Affair
Discover more at Harlequin.com


GIVE ME MORE
A.C. ARTHUR


Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Excerpt from Skin Deep by Lauren Hawkeye


CHAPTER ONE
UNPACK. SHOWER. MASTURBATE.
Those were the top three tasks on Grace Hopkins’s agenda for her first night in Saint Lucia. She lifted her suitcase onto the bed and opened it, then got straight to business removing clothes she’d folded neatly and stacked inside three days ago.
Her thoughts went to the same replay reel that had been running through her mind for days now, prompting all kinds of memories: Ronald Martin Gold III, thirty-five years old, six feet three inches tall with a bodybuilder physique, rich umber-hued skin, velvety brown eyes, a deep voice that sent a warm tendril down her spine each time she heard it. Of course there was more about the man than that—he was ridiculously rich, heir to a fashion empire, one of the smartest men she’d ever met...and her ex-boyfriend.
She dropped a pile of tank tops and bras into the first dresser drawer and slammed it shut. RJ was going to be at this resort for the next two weeks. They would see each other again for the first time in ten years. To be clear, she’d seen him since their breakup, on television, in magazines and in the framed picture she still kept beneath her bed, which featured him posed in a very rare laid-back position. She’d left that photo back at her apartment in Harlem because it would’ve been ridiculous to pack it into her suitcase. RJ was no longer her man. In fact, as far as she could tell—even though she wasn’t really making it her business—he hadn’t been seriously involved with anyone in a very long time. Like since the night she turned down his marriage proposal.
Shaking her head, she walked back to the bed, grabbed more clothes, went to the dresser again and proceeded to open the drawer, dump clothes in, and close it again. She wandered back to her suitcase.
It was going to be fine. These next two weeks were about work, about finessing the final piece of her career goal with the story of a lifetime. A rough outline of the story was on her laptop and as soon as she settled in for the night, she’d pull out the additional notes she’d gathered and put in some work before going to sleep. That was on her list to do after the shower and the—Her hand closed over what was arguably one of her best investments. Just holding the vibrator sent sparks of desire zinging through her body.
She wasn’t some horny sex addict. Sex wasn’t something she craved or even needed on a regular basis, but when the mood hit she had to soothe it—immediately, or she turned into a cranky nightmare. That was the last thing she needed while she was here. Being around RJ and his family again was going to take all her people skills, smiles and endurance. Her pussy pulsated at that last word as a memory of RJ between her legs, moving as if he owned her body and its pleasure with every stroke, resurfaced.
Her fingers tightened around the wand, which was big and clunkier than some of the newer, more modern versions, but she liked this one. She liked its size and durability, the same traits she’d treasured during the year and a half that RJ was her lover. It didn’t occur to her that she was now moving her hand up and down the length of the sex toy as if it were a real dick—his dick—until her phone rang.
She grabbed her phone off the bed with her free hand and pressed it to her ear.
“Grace Hopkins.”
“Hey, Grace. It’s Eddie, just checking in to see how it’s going.”
She rolled her eyes skyward at the sound of his voice. “Hey, Eddie. I’m just getting settled in at the resort.”
“You wouldn’t be getting settled in with RJ Gold, by chance? You know, the guy you neglected to tell me you dated.” There was no missing the irritation in Eddie’s tone or the instant alarm she felt at his words. She’d known it was not only wrong to leave out her past connection to RJ, but it was also highly unethical for her to even consider writing this story because of that connection. But she desperately wanted Eddie to accept her pitch and to tell this story.
“It was a very long time ago. We haven’t seen or spoken to each other in ten years.” She frowned, knowing he wasn’t going to let that thin excuse stand.
“Don’t give me that crap!” Eddie had a reputation as a yeller with a keen eye for detail. Right now, he was giving Grace her first taste of both. “You came to me pitching a story about the feud between Ron Gold and Tobias King. You said there was dirt there and you could dig it up, put it in black and white, and expose the dominating duo for their sordid backgrounds amid the impeccable designs that made them the best in the fashion industry. You said this was going to be the scoop that all fashion magazines, digital and print, wanted and would boost our print circulation. What you didn’t say was that you’d be cuddling up with your ex at the same time!”
Grace was certain Eddie had taken her story pitch way out of context, but she wouldn’t risk telling