Banking the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 2)(102)

I nodded slowly. “Oh, yeah. That’s right.”

His gaze made a slow circuit down my body, taking inventory of all of his favorite places, but his eyes really lit when they landed on the flush of my cheeks. It must have been obvious that I was just buzzed enough to break out all of my dirtiest moves. His eyes dove back to my chest as soon as the thought scrolled across my open eyes. I knew I was showing every single freaky intention.

“Anyone need a beer?” Ronnie asked, pulling Thatch’s attention from my tits to across the table.

“You buyin’ the next round, Ronnie?” Vin questioned.

“No, he’s not,” Thatch interjected. Memo received. He lifted me out of his lap and placed my ass back in my seat, but not before giving the cheek of it a healthy, meaningful squeeze. His hands would be spending time there later. “I’ve got the drinks for the night, guys.” He stood and motioned for the waitress, handing off his credit card with instructions to put all of the drinks for the table on his tab.

“Hell yeah! Thanks, man!” Brian held up his bottle as Thatch sat back down beside me.

“You know,” Vin chimed in, “he kind of owes us for driving his girl around all day.”

Thatch chuckled, but he knew better than to say anything. He had visions of my * in his eyes, and there wasn’t any form of male camaraderie that’d make sacrificing worth it. My face scrunched up in annoyance, and my even looser than normal lips flew.

“Hey now, dickhead! Pretty sure I’m the one in control of your calendar photos, and I haven’t edited them yet. Things can end up looking a lot smaller. Microscopic, even.”

Ronnie laughed. “Yeah, but Vin has a point, Cass.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re a handful,” Bruce added. “I guarantee the city will be sending us a complaint from the old woman you told to move the f*ck along and mind her own business.”

“She was just standing there, in the middle of the sidewalk,” I argued. “She was in your way.”

“She wasn’t standing there, sweetheart,” Ronnie corrected. “She was just moving very slowly.”

Vin laughed. “Yeah, she had a walker. Give the woman a break.”

“Whatever.” I scoffed. “That’s the last time I try to help you guys out.”

They all agreed enthusiastically to my permanent hiatus, and Thatch laughed.

“That will definitely be the last time you’ll ever be allowed on a fire truck,” Brian agreed with a smirk.

“I don’t know why you’re acting all high and mighty,” I retorted. “You’re the one who asked me to slide down your pole about fifteen minutes after I met you.”

Brian choked on his beer, and both of his hands went up in the air like he was being held at gunpoint. “In my defense,” he responded, meeting Thatch’s curious yet markedly less easygoing stare. “That was before I knew she was engaged and that said fiancé had arms bigger than my head.”

The guys chuckled around us.

“And she kneed me in the dick the second the words came out of my mouth,” Brian added. “I’m honestly not sure if I should be more scared of you or of her.”

“Probably her.” Thatch smirked and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, tucking me into his side.

For the next two hours, we hung out with the FDNY crew, laughing, drinking, and just shooting the shit. By the end of the night, the guys were asking Thatch to join their basketball league and meet them every Friday night for darts at Maloney’s.

Fucking charmer. It didn’t matter if was men or women, I swear, he held some kind of conversational gene that automatically made people want to either f*ck him, be friends with him, or both.

After I finished off my fifth beer of the night, I hopped back into Thatch’s lap with my cell phone in my hand. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“Big Dick is hip to our game.”

I held my phone up so Thatch could see my most recent text conversation with Kline.



Me: Earn fifty free fuel points at Shell by texting “I HAVE GAS!” to this number.



Kline: UNSUBSCRIBE



Me: Error. Could not process your message. Please text ‘1234567891011121314151617’ so that our IT department can assist you with your request.



Kline: Oh, hey, Cassie.



Kline: And Thatch.



Kline: Game over, *s.



Me: But what if the next subscription is for porn, Big Dick?



Kline: STOP TEXTING ME, CASSIE. And tell Thatch to stop searching for disfigured dicks on the internet.



Thatch laughed, and I nuzzled my face into his neck, letting the rumble run all the way through me.

“Tired?” he asked. He ran his fingers up and down my back in soft, smooth movements.

“No.” I shook my head. “Just horny.”

He chuckled. “What am I going to do with you, Crazy?”

I leaned back and met his amused gaze. “Take me home and f*ck me?”

Thatch tapped the table with his hand and stood while still holding me in his arms. “We’re calling it a night.” His strong arms maneuvered my body around so that he was giving me a piggyback ride.