Dirty Rumor: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance(15)

I sigh. “That’s not the worst thing.”

Her hand pauses halfway to the bowl of popcorn. “What’s the worst thing? You’re not pregnant, are you?”

I have to laugh at that. “No. God no.” I take another sip of wine. “He…moved in.”

Jess whips her head around toward the second bedroom, which is currently unoccupied and should probably become an office, since I don’t see any roommates on the horizon. “Here?”

“Yes, Jess, after that wonderful night and kicking me out the following morning, I invited him to move in with me at my apartment. Are you drunk already?”

“No,” she says with a giggle.

“He moved into the building.” I point above us. “Two floors up. The penthouse.”

Jess leans forward, eyes sparkling. “That. Is. Awesome.”

“It’s terrible!” I wail. “And awkward.”

“No, it’s the best,” she says. “Now you can show him what he’s missing…and maybe even seduce him again.”

“Why on earth would I want to do that?”

Jess gives a little shrug. “For the hell of it?”

I purse my lips, remembering. “He was good in bed.”

“Hey,” she says, reaching for more popcorn. “He’s the one who chose to move in. I say take him for all he’s worth.”





Chapter 14

Ace





I need to get this woman out of my head. I’m starting to lose sleep over it, which is insane. A meaningless one-night stand wouldn’t…shouldn’t….

She wasn’t a meaningless one-night stand.

I switch off my computer with a harsh movement. Whatever she was, she has to stop taking over my every waking moment. And most of my sleeping moments.

Carolyn Banks has infiltrated my brain. I can’t stop replaying the curves of her body, the sound of her voice, how she moved against me in the dark, the perfect way we fit together….

My cock rises against the fabric of my boxers, so I pull out a folder from the top drawer of my desk and pretend to review the papers inside. I already signed them.

The first thing I did when I got back to the city was to tell my father I wanted a job. Well, not a job per se, but something to do. I’ve managed the funds from my trust exceptionally well and made many profitable investments, but there are only so many hours I can kill at the gym down the block from my new penthouse. Now that the furniture is all arranged, I need something to occupy my time.

And keep my mind off Carolyn.

So far, it’s been a disaster.

My father made me the advisor for one of his company’s divisions in New York City, so I have a desk and an office and nothing to do but advise.

It’s been three days since I last saw her. The fact that I have a running count gets more pathetic by the day.

I text Noah to tell him to bring the car around. At the very least, I need to make plans for the weekend. I can spend tonight at the gym. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll get in a workout, then I’ll order in, and then I’ll make plans for how to end my seclusion by the weekend.

Eli Pierce should be a good place to start for figuring that out.

I text him on the way back to the penthouse, and he tells me they’ll be going to the Swan, as usual, on Friday night.

Fine by me.

My fingers hover over the keyboard. I want to ask him if Carolyn will be invited.

No. I’m not going to act like some schoolgirl who’s been slighted. I was the one who ended things with her, not the other way around. If she wants to act that way, on the other hand….

I don’t send the text.

But it’s still on my mind as I step out of the Bentley and enter the building. They’re still running the air conditioning against the fall heat that rises up from the pavement in late afternoon, and the cool is a welcome relief against my flushed skin. A day of thinking about Carolyn hasn’t improved my mood.

I reach the elevator and my stomach plummets.

Because there, in front of it, stands Carolyn Banks, in a black sheath dress that shows off her curves to perfection, her hair swept back into a flawless chignon, her purse slung over her shoulder, posture straight.

The teenage boy version of me wants to turn around and walk straight back out, but the man I’ve become will have no f*cking part of that.

It’s happening, like I knew it would.

I step up next to her. She glances to her left, once, then again, then returns to facing the elevator.

“I’m assuming you’ve called it already?”

She takes in a deep breath at the sound of my voice, then answers in a tone equally level. “Yes. I have.”

“Great.”

I don’t want to show any weakness. I don’t want her to know that I’ve been thinking about her nonstop since she walked out of the Four Seasons on Saturday. I don’t want her to think that I’ve been lying awake, thinking of the little sounds she makes when she comes, or that I’ve been dreaming of her firm breasts pressed against my chest.

The elevator door slides open smoothly, and we both step back to let an older woman step out and pass us as she walks into the lobby. A smile splits her wrinkled face as she moves past us. “Beautiful couple,” she murmurs, hooking one finger at the two of us.