Tapping The Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires #1) (25 page)

“That was a lot of ‘fucks,’ Mr. Brooks.”

I laughed and forced the tension in my shoulders to release. “I know. You got me all worked up. Thatch is usually the only one that can get me to utilize that many fucks in one thought process.”

Her laughter rolled through me like a wave.

“God, Thatch. I hear all sorts of lore about that guy, but the only actual interaction I’ve had with him was when you called me on the plane.”

“There’s Thatch lore?” I asked, mystified and horrified all at once.

“Oh yeahhh.” She laughed. “But most of it is from Dean, so I’ve taken any and all information with a very large grain of salt.”

I laughed.

“Like, rock salt.”

I shook my head, knowing Dean usually had a pretty good bead on the reality of things despite his juicy delivery.

“Ehhh. You can probably stick to the regular iodized kind. Thatch is a crazy asshole. Fun, though. And, occasionally, a good friend.”

“Is he really that crazy?” she asked, insistent in the belief that he couldn’t be as rowdy as people described.

As always with Thatch, examples of his depravity were plentiful, but one stood out above the rest.

“You know the scar on my abdomen?” I asked. “Lower right side?”

I glanced over in time to see her nod, eyes brimming with biblical knowledge. “It’s completely plausible I’ve noticed it.”

A smile arrested my features.

“Well, I owe its existence to Thatch and one of his half-baked ideas.”

Waiting for an explanation, she settled farther into her seat.

“One night during our freshman year of college, he got this idea that stair surfing on our mattresses on the icy courtyard steps could be the next big campus activity. Three broken fingers, one bloody nose, and a tree-branch-impaled abdominal muscle later, I decided I didn’t want to be a part of the sales pitch.”

“You could have said no from the beginning,” she suggested and I shrugged.

“What fun would that have been?”

I flipped on my blinker and turned into the long gravel drive of the Hamptons house. This had been the quickest drive of my life with Georgia keeping me company, and the salty sea air clung to my skin as I rolled my window down to put in the code for the gate. The stars were brighter now that we’d left the city behind, and when I turned to look at Georgie, I found her head hanging out of her window with her face to the sky like she’d noticed.

“Georgie?” I called, fighting back a grin.

“This place is outrageous!” she all but shouted. “Have you seen the fucking sky? And the length of this driveway?”

I shook my head and laughed some more, pulling forward cautiously so she could stay in her happy place half in, half out of the car.

“I might have noticed it a time or two.”

She sank back into the seat and shook her hair out of her smiling face.

“You should notice more. Like, a lot more. You know, every weekend or so. Andddd, if you just happen to want some company,” she said, feigning nonchalance, “I could
probably
fit it into my schedule. I mean, I’d be willing to check.”

“I’ll make note.”

“Holy hell! Look at that house! It’s adorable!”

I followed her eyes through the windshield, smiling so much my cheeks started to ache. The little bungalow wasn’t ostentatious, but it didn’t lack space either, and the wood-shank shingle siding had seen better days. The inside pretty much matched, but I was working on fixing it. Slowly but surely.

“I’m glad you like it.”

She bounced in her seat.

“But you probably shouldn’t like it too much. I’m fixing it up to give it to my parents, and I’ll start to feel bad if you get too attached.”

“Really? You’re doing the work yourself?” If she had been a dog, I imagined her ears would have perked up.

I smiled and nodded. “Really. I had an electrician work on the wiring and Thatch and Wes have helped me a couple of times with the heavy lifting, but I’ve done most of it myself.”

She slammed an open hand down on my thigh and squeezed, her expression deadpan.

“I think I just orgasmed.”

I shoved the gearshift into park and reached for her neck at the same time. I rubbed my nose with hers and smiled before touching my lips to hers just once. “Please, Benny. For the love of all that’s holy, hold on to that thought—and the easy trigger.”

Bags inside the house, a quick dinner of sandwiches I’d picked up from Tony’s deli and packed to bring along consumed, and wine in hand, Georgia demanded a tour of the house.

“I want to know every detail. What it looked like when you started, what you’re in the middle of now, and what you see it being like when you’re done. Don’t cut corners, Brooks,” she’d said.

“I intend to travel each and every curve in its entirety,” I’d teased back salaciously.

She’d just laughed and shoved me down the hall we were currently walking.

She’d seen the completely redone kitchen, the room I’d tackled first. I’d known it would be an outrageously extensive job, as well as the heart of the house. Crisp white cabinets, light stone counters, and dark wood floors, I’d kept the character of the house but added a ton of modern twists and convenience.

“God, Kline. I still can’t get over that island! It’s freaking enormous.”

“I know.”

Twelve feet by twelve feet, it was nearly enough room to use as an elevated dance floor. Part of me worried that it was too much, but my reasoning was sound. Maureen and Bob Brooks lived their lives in the kitchen, hip to hip or one or the other relaxing at the counter while the other one cooked. I swore ninety-five percent of my childhood memories happened in that room.

“It’s perfect, though. Like the epicenter of the house.”

My chest tightened with an unexpected surge of pride and accomplishment. The fact that she understood made me feel validated in a way I hadn’t even known I’d needed. I turned quickly, grabbing her hips and slamming her surprised and open lips to mine.

“Thank you,” I said. “That’s exactly what I was going for.”

I almost couldn’t handle the feeling of her answering smile.

“Watch your step,” I advised as we stepped into one of the completely unrenovated bedrooms. The original wainscoting was the only thing I really wanted to keep, and it was acting more like a temporary storage room for supplies than a bedroom at the moment.

“This place is amazing,” Georgie remarked in wonder. “It’s almost like a time capsule.”

“I know. It’s nearly a hundred years old. Which was really fucking intimidating when I first started doing the work.”

“I bet.”

“Come on. Let me show you upstairs real quick and then we can watch a movie. I’m ready to cuddle.”

“Kline Brooks, a cuddler?”

“Born, bred, and proud of it, baby.”

She pursed her lips, scrunched her nose, and shook her head—Georgia’s look of trying to figure something out.

“You almost never say what I’m expecting you to, you know that?”

I shrugged and nuzzled my face into her neck before touching my lips to the shell of her ear.

“Fine by me. As long as what I
actually
say is better.”

She shivered and then touched her lips to my cheek. Sauntering toward the door, she looked over her shoulder as soon as her small body lined up with the frame. “You haven’t failed me yet.”

I
slowly opened my eyes as Kline lifted me off the couch, cradling me close to his chest. I must’ve fallen asleep halfway through the movie. Only two glasses of wine deep, I hadn’t been drunk, just a delicious mix of relaxed and sleepy—sated from resting by the fire and cozy from being wrapped up in his arms.

His eyes met mine as we moved down the hall, toward the bedroom. “I figured you’d want to be somewhere a little more comfortable than the couch.” He gently set me on the mattress, pulling the covers back and tucking me in. After a soft kiss to my forehead, he whispered, “Go back to sleep, baby.”

I watched him move around the bedroom—charging his phone, sliding off his jeans, shrugging out of his shirt, and turning off the lights. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to how amazing Kline looked in just his boxer briefs. It should have been an offense to let a man who looked like
that
walk around without clothes. But I wasn’t complaining.

If he is a crime, then by God, get the handcuffs ready, because there is no way I can resist him.

He slid into the bed beside me, oblivious to my awakened state and ogling thoughts.

Tonight had been so perfect. He was perfect—sexy, kind, funny, and so very sweet. He made me want things I’d spent a lot of time wondering if I’d ever have.

Under the covers, I slid toward him, moving my body on top of his.

His eyes popped open.

“Hi,” I whispered.

“Hi.” He smiled softly, wrapping his arms around my back and holding me close.

“I didn’t really feel like sleeping.” I brushed my nose against his.

“And what is it you feel like doing?”

I shrugged my shoulders as my lips nibbled along his neck. Kissing a path back to his mouth, I bit his bottom lip and then licked across the plump skin to soothe it better.

He groaned, gripping my hips and flipping me to my back. His mouth locked with mine as he kissed me, long and slow and deep—so deliciously deep. I gripped the strands of hair resting at the nape of his neck. I swallowed his breaths and savored the taste of him.

My body was getting more riled, almost restless, with each heady second that passed.

He pushed my tank top up and over my chest, grabbing my breasts. He sucked a hardened nipple into his mouth, teasing the peak with his tongue, until switching to the other and repeating the same delectable torture.

The pulsing ache between my legs was proof of how badly I wanted Kline.

And God, I wanted to
feel
him,
all
of him.

His mouth found mine again. “Tell me what you want.” Our tongues danced. “I’ll give you anything.”

“I want you inside of me,” I moaned against his lips. “I want it so badly.” The need burned in a way it never had before—in a way I knew couldn’t be otherwise extinguished.

His eyes met mine, searching. “You know I’ll wait, right? I’ll wait until you know you’re really ready. There’s no rush.”

A tiny, self-doubting voice crept in. “You don’t want to have sex with me?”

“Are you kidding?” A soft laugh escaped his lips. “Baby, I’m losing my mind over the idea of feeling you come on my cock. I’d say that’s quite obvious.” He playfully rubbed the proof against my thigh, spurring a giggle from my lips.

“But I’m not rushing you.” He cupped my cheek, eyes tender. “You hold the power. You decide when it’s right.”

My hands found their way into his hair again, grasping the strands and pulling his face to mine. I kissed him like I’d never kissed him before. My mouth plundered his lips and tongue, taking what they wanted. I was out of my mind with feelings for this man. I had just told him I wanted to have sex, and he’d done the opposite of what I’d expected. He slowed us down, trying to make sure I was making the right decision for myself.

I didn’t need time to think, because Kline
was
right. He was all of the rights.