Tapping Her (Bad Boy Billionaires #1.5)(35)

“Bratwurst,” she mumbled.

“Pickles,” she went on. I laughed. “Big-dicked—”

Hell yes!

“Thor.”

Fuck.

“Benny, wake up.”

She moaned and tried to move, but the animals wouldn’t let her, and finally, her eyes popped open in frustration. “Fucking space management, you little shits are a bigger problem than I realized,” she announced immediately, seeing them and not me.

“I tried to tell you.”

“Shit!” she shrieked, a hand rising to her chest as a flimsy shield. “You scared me to death.”

I smiled and raised my eyebrows. “Rough wake-up call, baby?”

“No,” she denied. “I was just surprised is all.”

“You’re drowning in paws.”

“Okay,” she hedged. “Maybe a little, but it’s no big deal.”

She was afraid I was going to take the dog back. Stan barked like he could sense it.

“I don’t know.” I pushed on, desperate to get her good and riled up. “I was afraid this would happen. There’s no room for me in that bed, and I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Kline—”

“No, Benny. If there’s a bed with you, I want to be in it.”

“We’ll get a bigger bed,” she offered quickly.

“This bedroom really isn’t big enough for a king.”

I was expecting her to get angry, but she just looked crestfallen. Shit.

Tears threatened the corners of her pretty blue eyes, and I knew I’d do anything to stop them. Striding to the bed, I shoved Walter out of the way with a hiss and cupped her cheek.

“Don’t cry, baby. I was just messing with you. Stan’s here to stay, I swear.”

Her waterfall of melancholy dried up faster than a raindrop.

“What the f*ck? Were you faking those tears?”

“Maybe,” she admitted with a smirk.

Fuck. I would have f*cking sworn those tears were real. “I don’t like this. I don’t like this one bit.”

“I’m sorry,” she laughed. “I promise to never trap you with fake tears if you promise to always keep Stan.”

I had no plans to get rid of Stan. Quite frankly, I kind of liked him. “Deal.”

She smiled again and wrapped her arms around my neck, and it took a full thirty seconds before I realized my perfectly crafted plan hadn’t been executed even close to the blueprints.

“Shit.”

“What?” she asked, pulling back to look at me.

“Nothing. Just…that didn’t go according to plan at all. I started that whole mess for a reason.”

“A reason?”

“A big one,” I clarified with a playful wince.

“Just spit it out!” she yelled through a laugh, smacking me on the chest.

So I did.

“You want to go see our new house?”

“House? As in…a house?!”

“It’s the housiest house I’ve ever seen,” I joked.

“Oh, my God! I f*cking love housey houses!” she shouted and stage dived directly off the bed and even deeper into my heart.

She was perfect in all of her awkward excitement, and I was just the man at her mercy.

“I love you,” I told her, just as her mouth met mine.

“Me too,” she said. “I can’t believe you did this. Why? Why did you do this?”

“Because you want the dog, and Walter wants the dog, and that means I want Stan too. Stan means f*cking space. This’ll give it to us.”

“Kline.”

“We’ll always miss you when you’re gone, but when you come back, you’ll always know we’re all happy and healthy and waiting completely impatiently at home.”




New York, Tuesday, May 16th, Very Early Morning





Kline and Georgia had been back from their honeymoon for two weeks, and already, the f*cker had gone and gotten her a house and a dog. He was sick in the head, but if you asked me, that was the definition of love. I hated that they were moving out of the city, but they still worked here, and Kline never went out anyway. I’d just have to travel a little farther when I felt like crashing on their couch. Otherwise, my life would remain pretty much the same.

My phone chirping over the hum of needles pulled my attention away from my friend Frankie’s latest portrait tattoo. Some guy from Detroit had driven all the way here just for Frankie’s unique talent. I still got a kick out of that shit.

When I picked up my phone, a text message from a number I didn’t recognize read like a f*cking novel.



Unknown: The Mingan Island Cetacean Study Group has been using photographic techniques to study humpback whales for the last 16 years. In that time, they began to realize that female humpback whales not only make friends with one another, but they reunite each year.

Isn’t that adorable! Such cuties!

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What in the ever-loving f*ck is this shit?



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