Banking the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 2)(40)

“Thatcher?”

“Yep,” I answered shortly, frustrated by my feelings of the exact opposite of frustration. With a repeat of this kind of stunt, I should be f*cking over it. Instead, all I could concentrate on was how undeniably attracted I was to her. Goddamn, why do I have to make everything so difficult for myself?

“It feels f*cking early. Why are you waking me up early?” she asked and accused at once, her eyes still fully closed and her small hand resting on my shoulder. I could feel the heat of it all the way through my shirt.

“I have to go to work,” I said. I wanted to whisper, but I forced myself to speak loudly. After last night, she deserved this. And it didn’t hurt that it meant getting to see her, talk to her, take her in, before I headed out for the day.

“Ah, f*ck. We’ve got to talk about this you going to work thing,” she replied as she cracked open one eye. “It’s really not working well for me.”

I raised my eyebrows in response but said nothing else.

“Is there coffee?” she asked, pouting her lip in a way that normally made me crumble. She’d only been around for a week, but women learned fast. They preyed on your weakness and then used it against you shamelessly. I kind of admired it.

“No,” I told her. “There’s no coffee.”

“No coffee?” she shrieked.

“No f*cking coffee.”

“What’s wrong? Why is there no coffee?”

“Stop saying ‘no coffee.’”

“Then get me coffee!” she snapped, eyes open and alert.

“No. You’re a terrible f*cking roommate. Only good roommates get coffee in bed in the morning.”

“What the hell did I do?”

I got right into her space, all the way in her face, my eyes staring directly into hers. She moved back until her back hit the headboard, and I followed her in. My voice was a rough whisper. “What face do I make when I come?”

“What?”

“What face do I make when I come during sex?” I asked again.

She searched for the answer, her eyes lifting up and to the right as she did, but it didn’t take long for her to figure out why she didn’t know the answer.

“Shit.”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

I pushed up and off the bed and stalked down the hall, grabbing my suit jacket from the back of the couch and throwing it on. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I picked up my wallet, keys, and phone and headed for the door.

Feet pounded behind me, but I didn’t bother to turn at the sound. She was everything no serious man should want—selfish, f*cking crazy, and miles away from wanting a commitment. But when I thought about the past week with her, I couldn’t seem to convince myself I didn’t want it. And that was f*cking dangerous.

“Thatch!” she yelled from the mouth of the hallway when I reached for the doorknob.

I looked over my shoulder in question, but I kept my body to the door.

“I just…I’m sorry.”

Her words hit me right in the chest. I hadn’t been expecting an unashamed, unmasked apology. My body turned toward her on its own.

“What are you sorry for?” I pushed, and my eyes took in the fact that she’d managed to throw on a pair of tiny shorts and a tank-top before leaving my bedroom.

She avoided the question. “I’ve never done that to anyone twice.”

I forced a dry chuckle, before turning back toward the door. “Great. I guess I’m just special.”

“Thatch.”

I turned once more and leaned my back into the door on an exhale. “What, Cass? You’re forgiven, okay? Neither of us owes the other anything in this scenario, and you know it just as well as I do.”

I didn’t want to be the one to give in, but this was turning into something I had never expected. I didn’t know how much one-sided interest I could take.

Her face shifted in a way I didn’t like, so I looked to the floor.

I’d never seen her coming.

At a dead run, she jumped up to wrap her arms around my neck and sealed her lips to mine. They tasted like regret and Cassie, and her smell enveloped me on a delay.

Hands at her ass, I lifted her higher and opened my mouth to her, and she didn’t squander the opportunity. Light licks tickled the tip of my tongue, and she yanked at my hair. I tried to find my bearings, figure out what was happening, but the feel of her body pressed to mine made it pretty much impossible.

She pushed herself closer, and I pulled at her hips. I needed more, and after a long night thinking about nothing but her, my body refused to accept any other answer.

I stroked her face with my thumbs as I forced our tongues to her mouth. Control was mine this time around, and I’d be damned if it ended in anything other than satisfaction.

Her legs tightened around my waist as I slid my hands down her sides, pausing at her perfect tits to slide my thumbs under their weight.

She moaned in my mouth, and that was all the incentive my feet needed to move.

Heading straight for the bedroom, I navigated to my hallway blindly, shoving my hands into the bottoms of her pajamas and kneading at the naked skin of her ass. She wore no underwear underneath.

“Fuck,” I breathed as one hand traced the crack of her ass all the way to her *. She was wet and wild and bucked at the intrusion of one of my thick fingers.