Banking the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 2)(26)

My mind was a mess of unsatisfied arousal and surprising affection, and I knew I had to do something to get my head back in the game.

Before leaving his office, I glanced over my shoulder and left him with the only defense I had against the way my emotions were f*cking with me—f*cking with him.

“Oh, and enjoy the fries. They’re from the Shake Shack.” I waved with a little wiggle of my fingers. “See you at home, Thatch.”

Boom. Suck on that, prankster, I thought to myself as I strode down the hall.

But the elation over screwing with him only lasted a few seconds, and as I got on the elevator, I found myself touching my lips and grinning over what I had just done.

And I wasn’t completely sure it had anything to do with a declaration of a prank war.





Cassie winked and closed the door to my office with a soft click, but I still hadn’t moved a muscle.

Behind the solid wood of my desk, my wood was fading in the still-open fly of my pants. Shock didn’t really f*cking cover what I was feeling at that moment—the surprise visit, the bag of takeout, the blow job, and the way she left things as soon as my dick left her mouth.

I’d done a lot of shit in my life, but I’d never been sucked off behind my desk. The whole showing up at work without warning thing was a boundary only crossed in serious, long-term relationships or between involved coworkers, and I’d never really had either.

I’d been in love with Margo, but the love had been young. Still a teenager, I’d been na?ve and self-centered and completely focused on what she could do for me rather than the other way around. It’d probably have been a fleeting memory of adolescent hormones and mistakes had it not ended the way it had. But that was the kind of thing that never left you, was never forgotten. After all these years, all that was left of her in my day-to-day life were Frankie, Claire, and Mila—and I wouldn’t trade them for anything.

“Mr. Kelly?” Madeline’s voice called, freaking me the f*ck out and jump-starting the rush to zip up my pants.

I pushed the tails of my shirt in, zipped the fly, buttoned my pants, and then fastened my belt, all before taking a deep breath, running a hand through my hair, and pushing the button to respond to her call.

“Yeah, Mad?”

“Wes Lancaster is on the phone for you.”

Jesus. I wasn’t sure now was the best time to talk to him, but he was on a recruiting trip, so I’d expected him to call at some point wanting to run numbers. He didn’t have me on staff, but as much as we teased each other, he trusted me more than anyone else when it came to money. Thus, he brought me in to consult from time to time.

A puff of air left me as I fought for quick composure.

“Hey, Wes. What’s up?” I said as I answered, trying my best to sound casual.

That was my first mistake.

“No jokes?” he asked cautiously without even saying hello. “Something’s wrong. What’s wrong?”

I rolled my eyes. “I can be serious on occasion, you know.”

“Not with me. Not ever. Not in the history of our friendship.”

Pushing my back firmly into my chair, I rubbed at my facial hair. “God, you’re f*cking dramatic, Whitney.”

“That’s better. But, yeah, you’re not getting off the hook. What’s going on?”

“I just got my dick sucked, how’s that?” I asked when no other explanation came to mind, trying to put him off by oversharing.

“Nope. I’d say that’s pretty normal too. What’s abnormal, T-Rex?”

“You’re a pain in my goddamn ass.”

“I’ve heard. I’m waiting.”

“Jesus Christ—”

“Mr. Kelly?” Mad buzzed in on the intercom. “Kline Brooks is on line two.”

“Hold on, Wes,” I said into the phone and pushed the button to answer her. “You might as well conference him in, Mad.”

She didn’t answer, but in a matter of moments, Kline was in on our call.

“Thatch.”

“Wes is on the line too, Kline.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Kline asked suspiciously.

Fucking hell. I didn’t crack jokes all the time. I could answer a call normally, for f*ck’s sake.

“I’ve been wondering the same thing!” Wes exclaimed, f*cking victorious.

“I hate you both.”

“You love me,” they both said at the same time.

I rubbed at the pinched center of my forehead.

“Does this have anything to do with Cassie?” Kline asked astutely. The clever f*ck. I’d be murdering him later for bringing this up now.

“What? What about Cassie?” Wes asked like a teenage girl hungry for gossip.

“He f*cked her last night,” Kline supplied helpfully, and I sighed.

“Holy shit!” Wes exclaimed.

“Then she fell asleep on his dick before he came,” f*cking * Brooks went on. Wes guffawed.

“She just blew me in my office, thank you very much,” I told him as though I had something to prove. I regretted it the minute the words left my lips.

Kline’s voice vibrated with glee. “There it is!” That * had baited me, and I’d gulped that shit down without hesitation.