Tapping Her (Bad Boy Billionaires #1.5)(4)
Cass turned in a flourish, cocking her head to the side and getting right in the offender’s face. “I will go Holly Holm on your ass!”
I jumped into action, wrapping my arms around her and copping a small feel in the process. She burned me with her eyes, and I tried not to smile, but as I turned back to the still open apartment door, Walter scurried out like a shot and turned the corner in a flash. Releasing Cass, I traveled the space in as few steps as my giant legs would allow, but when I rounded the bend, not a whisker or a hair remained.
Ah, f*ck.
The dick cat hadn’t been missing, but he sure as f*ck was now.
Bora Bora, Thursday, April 20th, Morning
Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, I could see 7:00 a.m. glowed red and bright. My internal clock was still on East Coast time, and I had started a bad habit of napping in the midafternoon sun for the past three days. Sounds of the ocean filtered through the open terrace doors, a warm breeze brushing across the room and filling it with aromas of salt water and sand.
Stupidly happy. Thoroughly well-f*cked. Blissfully sated.
No doubt, I was all of those things.
The sole reason lay beside me, sprawled out on his back, with soft, white sheets barely covering his deliciously naked form. Kline was sound asleep, hair mussed up and a small grin etched across his full lips. He had passed out that way after round three—or was it four?—and that little expression of appreciation had stayed intact for the past hour. Since round four had been an oral experiment in showing him just how much I loved him, I’d say his sexy grin was a direct result of my mouth.
We had been on our honeymoon for three days, and I still needed to pinch myself to believe it was real. That he—my handsome, charming, undeniably romantic husband—was real. We still had another week and a half to enjoy our privacy in Bora Bora, but I was already feeling grumpy over the idea of returning home and leaving our little slice of tropical heaven.
I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and scrolled through numerous emails. One from my boss, Kline’s good friend Wes, urged a quick response.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Georgia,
I hope you and Kline are enjoying your honeymoon. If you can spare a few minutes away from your husband, I’d be forever in your debt if you could take a glance at this contract. If he gives you grief, just send him my way. I’d really like your opinion on this offer before we pull the trigger.
Wes Lancaster
President and Chief Executive Officer
New York Mavericks
National Football League
The contract in question was for a sports drink campaign. I couldn’t deny the drink tasted like gasoline, but the VITAsteel brand had been growing in popularity over the past three years and had made quite the name for itself in the sports industry. Professional athletes across the globe fell over themselves to land an endorsement with this company. And even though the Mavericks were knocked out in the first-round playoffs last year, I had managed to get some raised eyebrows of intrigue over at VITAsteel when I proposed a contract that included our quarterback and offensive line.
See? I was starting to understand football lingo. Of course, I still nicknamed all of our players, but no one needed to know that.
I read through the contract and sent a quick email back to Wes, highlighting the things I didn’t like. The offer was good, but it could be better. First rule of business, always be prepared to negotiate and never take the first offer that’s sent your way. My business-savvy husband taught me that.
Considering I was getting emails from my boss during my honeymoon, I’d say it was obvious work was about to get a bit intense for me. The New York Mavericks were in the midst of a marketing overhaul and rebranding, and since I was leading this insane task, my job would require more than a simple, forty-hours-a-week schedule. Late nights, gallons of coffee, and a shitload of frequent flyer miles were about to fill my future.
I had a feeling Kline wasn’t going to swallow this pill all that well.
My husband was understanding to a fault, but he had gotten used to me being by his side at the office for the early part of our relationship, and even after I had taken the job with the Mavericks and we had managed to find our way back to one another, my work hours were manageable. He’d been making a real effort to leave work at five o’clock, and I’d done the same. But my workload was about to increase tenfold. Who wants to hear that kind of news from their brand-new wife?
And if I was being honest, I wasn’t all that thrilled with the idea of less time with him either. I hated it, actually. But my career was important to me. The drive to pave out my own kind of success ran deep. I wanted, no, needed, to accomplish the goals I had set for myself.
Finding the right balance and some serious understanding on my husband’s part was going to be key in making it all work without one of us going crazy. We had talked about my soon-to-be demanding schedule and traveling with the team for away games, but with the craziness of the wedding, we never really had a chance to sit down and map it all out.
That conversation would come, but right now, in this perfect little moment, other things would have to come first. Big-dicked kind of things.
Before I got down and dirty with Kline, I glanced at the clock again, and knowing that it was six hours later in New York, I sent Cass a quick text message.