Banking the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 2)(53)

Me: Huh?



Three soft knocks sounded from the door, but instead of getting out of bed to answer it, I sent him another text.



Me: Did your cock send me more roses?



Thatch: Rule #49. Always, ALWAYS follow rule #48 when I tell you to.



Two hard knocks on the door spurred me into action. I hopped off the bed and padded toward the entry. “Who is it?” I asked.

“Housekeeping,” a male voice mimicking a tiny female’s voice replied back.

I grinned. “I don’t need housekeeping.”

“Do you need towels?”

“Nope.”

“Toilet paper?”

“Nope.”

“Pillow mints?” He continued the charade.

I fought my laugh as I peeked through the peephole and found Thatch standing on the other side of the black metal barrier. “Nope.”

He smirked. “What about a massage? Do you like happy endings?”

“Sure. Okay,” I finally agreed as I swung open the door.

And there he was, standing in front of me in all of his handsome glory. His brown eyes gazed into mine as a giant grin consumed his face. I had the overwhelming compulsion to burst into tears and maniacal laughter at the same time.

“You flew all the way from L.A. to give me a massage?”

He shook his head. “I drove, actually. There weren’t any last-minute Vegas flights available.”

“You drove?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, his voice dropping to an even sexier level. “I drove all the way here to cheer you up. So, are you going to invite me in?”

I launched myself at him and wrapped my arms and legs around his body like a little monkey. I buried my face in the crook of his neck and savored the smell of his cologne and the inherent scent that was only Thatch.

God, I hadn’t known how much I wanted him to be here until he was actually here.

“What about your meetings?” I mumbled into his skin, unwilling to let go of the hold I had on him.

He squeezed his arms tighter. “I only really needed to be there for the walk-through I did this morning. I can work on the rest from home.”

“You’re f*cking insane,” I whispered into his ear. “Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome, honey.” He held me tight and carried us inside my hotel suite. “Did you take a hot bath and get a nap?” he asked as his long legs crossed the room. He sat down on the bed and adjusted me so that I was straddling his lap, making my hotel robe fall open slightly.

I nodded. “Two baths, actually.”

He smirked and ran a finger along the swells of my breasts. “Did you fire your assistant?”

I nodded and breathed a little faster.

“Are you ready to have some fun with me in Vegas?”

I shrugged as my fingers found the nape of his neck and played with the edges of his hair. “Depends on what you have in mind.”

My eyes followed his as he glanced down at his T-shirt.

It’s Britney, bitch.

He winked. “Rule number forty-seven.”

Fuck, I haven’t had time to enter all of these into my phone. I struggled to remember for two seconds before it clicked.

“You’re taking me to see Britney?” I shouted and hopped off his lap. “Don’t f*ck with me, Thatcher. Don’t you dare f*ck with me right now.” I pointed an accusing finger in his direction.

He laughed and slid his hand into his back pocket to pull out two tickets. He held them up for my excited eyes.

I snatched them out of his hand and made sure they were real. “Holy shit! These are like front-row seats!” I exclaimed as I danced around the suite. “How in the hell did you manage these?”

“I’ve got friends in high places,” he said with a boyish grin. “Good surprise?”

“Fantastic surprise!” I threw myself at him, forcing us to fall back onto the bed in a tumble. “You’re so getting laid tonight!”

His playful eyes met mine as his hands slid into my hair and pulled my mouth in for a soft kiss. The kiss turned heated, and it was Thatch who pulled away with a groan.

“I hate what I’m about to say, but we’ll have to take a rain check on the sex,” he said as he lifted me to a standing position. “You’ve got thirty minutes to get dressed.” He turned my body toward the bathroom and spanked my ass into motion. “So get that sexy ass moving, Crazy. We can’t miss Britney.”




Planet Hollywood was unreal. So many shops filled the glitter-floor-lined hallways that led to the actual theater within the hotel. After buying me a matching It’s Britney, bitch T-shirt, Thatch carried me into the venue on his giant shoulders, shouting random things like, “I hope she plays Hit Me Baby One More Time,” until we reached our seats.

Women stared. I laughed. And the giant ogre never faltered in his ability to not give a single f*ck what anyone thought of us.

We were a pair. A loud, outrageous-as-f*ck pair.

It was awesome.

Fans screamed around me, and I joined in relentlessly. I was in my element with all the other diehards, watching Britney Spears shake her little ass and hypnotize the audience on stage with her sexy dance moves and catchy lyrics. As she finished up a hot rendition of “I Wanna Go,” I glanced up at Thatch, who appeared to be enjoying himself as much as I was.