Tapping Her (Bad Boy Billionaires #1.5)(37)

I couldn’t help myself. I just really liked screwing with him—he took any shit I gave with ease and tossed it right back. And if I was being honest, I really f*cking liked it. Not many men could handle my version of sarcasm. But, Thatch? Yeah, he handled it all right, seemingly entertained by whatever came out of my mouth.

Well, that and my tits. Yeah, he found them entertaining too.

“Put your boner away, Thatcher,” I teased him with our running joke. An inside f*cking joke. With Thatcher Kelly. What was the world coming to?

“You started this,” he said, and I could picture his sexy smirk. “What are your tits wearing, Cass?”

“None of your business.” I laughed. And smiled.

“Oh, but it is my business. Your tits and I are on a first-name basis. We’re like Pam and Jim. P, B, and motherf*cking J.”

I kept smiling. “You watch The Office?”

“Would Kline eat dog shit for Georgia? Of course, I watch The Office.”

“I take it you heard about Stan.”

“Yeah,” he said with a chuckle. “I owe Kline a lot of favors thanks to you losing their cat.”

“I did not lose their cat!” I exclaimed, and nearly everyone in the bar turned in my direction. “Oh, f*ck off! This is a bar, not a goddamn library!” I shouted toward no * in particular.

“Starting your UFC career in the Bahamas doesn’t sound like a good idea, Cass,” Thatch said. “I thought you agreed to be good?” His voice was edged with something my drunken brain couldn’t decipher.

“Yeah, but it’s your version of good. That leaves room for a lot of possibilities.”

He ignored the jab. “Promise me something, honey.”

“And what would that be?”

“No Fight Club unless I’m with you.”

“Ohhh…Thatcher doesn’t think I’m strong enough to take care of myself?” I retorted sarcastically.

“I know you are, Cass,” he responded immediately.

“Then why would I need you around?”

“Because I want to be there. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

My chest felt tingly and weird. “Well…that’s really kind of sweet of you to say.”

“I can be sweet, honey. I can be real f*cking sweet when I want to be.”

“Cass! We’re getting ready to head out. You comin’?” Arnoldo yelled from the bar as he closed out his tab.

“Who was that?” Thatch asked.

“Arnoldo,” I answered. “He’s one of the models I’ve been working with down here.”

The phone went silent for a few beats, and for some odd reason, I felt the need to add a few more details. “Arnoldo is crazy good-looking…and getting over a harsh breakup with his boyfriend. I told him we could spend the rest of the night in my hotel room, stuffing our faces with room service and trashing stupid men.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like a party.”

“You know it.” I got up from my barstool and grabbed my purse. “I better go. I’ve got a guy to console, feed, and shove off to bed, before I rub one out and call it a night.”

“Tell your tits I miss them.”

“I’ll be sure to pass along the message.”

“Do that while you’re spread-eagled on your bed and getting yourself off to thoughts of me.”

“I would, but you haven’t given me anything to have thoughts about.”



Yeah, yeah, I know that was a lie.

Of course, he’d given me things to think about. I had felt his cock.

Believe me, I had a lot of f*cking thoughts about that monster.



“I accept that challenge.”

God, he was like the king of one-upping.

“Good night, Cass. Be good.”

“Be sweet, Thatch,” I said and then ended the call.

Be sweet? Did I really just say that?

Hell, Thatcher Kelly hadn’t crawled inside my brain and started demanding attention. And I knew, without a doubt, this situation had nowhere else to go but down…and up…and back down again…on the Jolly Green Giant’s cock.





THE END


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Cassie and Thatch are coming for you next in Banking the Billionaire (Billionaire Bad Boys Book 2) on July 26, 2016.





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First of all, THANK YOU for reading. That goes for anyone who’s bought a copy, read an ARC, helped us beta, edited, or found time in their busy schedule just to make sure we didn’t completely f*ck over Kline and Georgie…or Walter. We know some of you are here for that *.