Banking the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 2)(99)

“This gives a whole new meaning to having an animal in your pants.”

I laughed as she pushed my shirt up and over my head, leaving me completely naked, save the pig and pants around my ankles.

She shoved off the door with her palms to get us moving, and I stumbled, nearly going down in a tangle of epic proportions. Squeals pierced my ears from her and Phil.

I laughed and righted myself before shuffling down the hall with her ass in my hands. She giggled and threw her hands in the air as I licked at her neck.

When we finally made it to the bed, I dumped her down with a flourish and stood back with my hands on my hips. Her eyes gleamed as they locked on my dick.

“You’ve got on way more clothes than I do,” I told her. “Way too many clothes.”

She smirked, sat up, and grabbed the hem of her tank top, pulling it up and over her head. I watched as her tits held until the last second and then bounced down, bare and pebbled and perfect.

My dick jumped.

“I could have sworn you were wearing a bra tonight,” I told her, reaching out to tweak one nipple with a finger and a thumb. She pushed her chest closer to me and moaned through a smile.

“It’s built in to the tank top,” she explained as I closed a nipple in my mouth.

“What?” I mumbled.

She laughed. “My bra. It’s built in to the tank top.”

A drop of precome leaked from the tip of my cock as I pictured my dick between her tits.

“Thatch!”

“What?” I said with a laugh. “Bras are blasphemous. Don’t ever mention them in this house again.”

“You brought it up!”

Laughing, I pushed up off the bed, sadly away from her tits, and pulled a squealing Phil from between my legs. He took off running as soon as he hit the floor, but he was the last priority on my list right now.

Making quick work of the fabric around my ankles, I shoved it all down and off at the same time as my shoes and socks, and put my knees to the bed on each side of Cassie’s hips.

“I think you’re forgetting something.” She laughed, gesturing to her still-fastened pants with a jerk of her head. But I shook mine as I climbed to straddle her, skimming my way up her body until my dick lined up with her chest.

“Don’t worry, honey,” I told her. “I’ll get to those eventually.”

“Thatch—”

“Unbutton them, baby. Touch yourself while I f*ck your tits for a minute.”

Her chest heaved, and my pupils dilated. Goddamn.

“Do whatever you want,” I instructed, the game coming to me in an instant. “Slow and steady or hard and fast, work that clit and pump that * however you want until you come.”

Her eyes flared, and she licked her lips.

“I’ll f*ck your tits until you get there. It’s up to you how long I get.”

She reached out quickly and pumped my dick twice and hard.

I looked over my shoulder as she reached between my legs and undid her pants, shoved them and her panties to her thighs and pushed her finger into her * to gather moisture.

When she brought it back out and started working it, I looked back to her.

Her eyes gleamed as she grabbed my ass and pulled me to her tits. “Come on, baby. I’ll go slow.”




I licked a path between her tits and straight down to her *, where I lapped at the top to tickle her clit.

She shivered and shoved at my head, breathing heavy with exhaustion.

“I’m gonna make you touch yourself every f*cking time.”

She laughed and swatted at me.

“Licking your finger clean after you came on it was the hottest thing I’ve ever f*cking done.”

Her smile curved all the way to her sleepy eyes. “Okay,” she admitted. “That was pretty hot.”

Climbing back up her body, I pressed a soft kiss to her lips and then fell to my side beside her, settling into my palm with an elbow in my pillow.

Cassie patted affectionately at my cheek, so I grabbed her wrist, fell to my back, and pulled her over on top of me. Her eyes moved from mine like a river, curving down my jaw to my neck, and then pooling on the tattoo across my chest. “What’s this one for?”

“The tattoo?” I asked, and she nodded, settling her chin on my chest and bringing her gaze back to my eyes.

“Mi Vida Loca,” I recited. “It means ‘my crazy life.’ I got it when I was twenty-seven. When it first hit me that I’d done it. That I’d succeeded in all kinds of things, and I was in complete control of my destiny. I never expected any of this. The success, the drive. I’m pretty sure everyone thought I’d be doing something menial or nothing at all.”

“You were that wild?”

“Yes. But it was more a lack of focus.”

She laughed and looked down at my chest contemplatively, tracing each letter slowly. “Yeah, I can relate to that.”

She skimmed her fingers across my chest and over to the praying Mary on my arm. “What about this one?”

“That one is for Margo. Well, it’s about her, anyway. I got it a couple of years after she passed, from Frankie, right after he opened the shop. I think it was sort of cathartic for both of us to put ink to skin to embody all the things we hoped she’d found in heaven that she’d yet to find on earth.”