The Billionaire Next Door (Billionaire Bad Boys #2)(26)

“Never mind, I’m too tired,” she said. Suddenly, Oliver’s not-small-at-all penthouse felt like a cramped closet.

A big warm hand enclosed hers and Tag tugged her to the couch. He sat, then winced, stood, and pulled a rawhide bone out from behind his back. He threw the bone, which Adonis happily chased and then flopped down in the hallway to chew.

Tag still had a hold of her hand and tilted his head to the cushion next to him. Rachel sat. Stiff as a cadaver, but she sat. This close in the intimate, softly lit confines of Oliver’s living room, her hand wrapped in Tag’s larger, warmer palm, she couldn’t think of a thing to say.

“What do you want to know?” Tag let go of her hand and put his arm behind her on the couch, which didn’t do much to calm her. If she sat back, she’d be nestled into him, a welcome idea since she was chilled from the cold and thoroughly exhausted.

“Now’s not the time, really.” She knotted her hands together and glanced at Adonis.

“You brought it up.” His words were low and quiet. The way the timbre of his voice danced over her was like sliding into a hot tub. Being engulfed in warmth. Her entire body relaxed on contact.

“I did. I was…surprised.”

“How’d you find out?” he asked.

“Bree’s fiancé recognized you.”

Tag let loose a tired little smile. “Ah.”

“Is it a secret?”

“Not a secret, Dimples. Just like you don’t want to tell me personal things about you, there are some things I don’t share if I can help it.” He propped an arm on his knee and faced her, crowding her but not crowding her. She guessed it wasn’t his fault her nipples tingled when his heat blanketed her side.

She licked her lips, nervous. “Makes sense.”

And it did make sense. She hadn’t shared anything with Tag. Whenever he’d asked questions, she’d glossed over them like she was in the witness protection program.

“Does that change things between us?” Given the curious tilt of his head, he was being sincere.

“Why would it?” she asked.

“Because you don’t want to deal with a megalomaniac?”

“Are you a megalomaniac?” she asked with a smile. Because yes, he was cocky, but drunk on his own power? She didn’t get that vibe.

He pulled his arm out from behind her and sank a fingertip into one of her cheeks. Thick lashes dipped then raised when he met her gaze. “No, Dimples. I’m not.”

The eye contact lasted a few extra seconds, and then a few more. He leaned the slightest bit closer, heat blooming between them again. The tingle in her breasts moved south, and the moment she was sure Tag was going to kiss her was the moment she opted to get the hell away from him.

“Sorry. I’m…I probably smell like beer.” Rachel bolted off the couch, letting out a laugh that sounded slightly unhinged. “I’m going to…”

She pointed toward the back bedroom where she was staying, pictured Tag’s mouth on hers, his capable hands removing her clothes. His big body settling between her thighs…

“Thank you for taking care of Adonis,” she chirped as she shuffled to the room. She shut the door and through a tight throat called, “You can leave the key on the table!”

Heart jackhammering, she held her breath to listen, palms flat on the door. She heard the door opening, a soft click as it closed. She counted to twenty—not hard to do since her heart pounded out the count—then opened the bedroom door. Adonis stood halfway between the bedroom and the front door staring at her, the rawhide bone in his mouth.

Rachel tiptoed to the living room, leaned in to check the peephole, and saw the hallway empty, the elevator doors shutting on a tall, crazy-handsome man who happened to be Chicago royalty.

Her shoulders dropped as a breath left her lungs.

“Ready for bed?” she asked Adonis, who cocked his head.

He chuffed and padded into the bedroom. Rachel followed, along the way trying to convince herself that she was relieved she hadn’t crossed a line with Tag.

After the death of her relationship with Shaun, she wasn’t ready to be burned again. And the man she’d found sleeping on Oliver’s couch was capable of a nuclear explosion. With his means, his history, she’d bet Tag could love and leave with the best of them. Rachel had recently been loved and left, and she wasn’t anxious to get another punch on her membership card.

Keeping her distance from Tag was the only way to ensure she wouldn’t repeat past mistakes or make spectacularly bad new ones. She put toothpaste on her toothbrush and regarded her reflection, proud of her reaction even though Tag probably thought she was loony.

“You did the right thing,” she said aloud.

Because once his lips touched hers, there’d be no going back.





Chapter 8



Once the quarterly reports were in, we could see…Tag?” Reese slid into view when he leaned on the conference table and pressed his palms into the glass. “What’s up with you?”

Tag blinked at his brother, then his brother’s fiancée, Merina, who was sitting next to Reese, hand wrapped around a mug of coffee.

“Sorry. Didn’t sleep.” He slept fine on Oliver’s couch, until Rachel returned home. He’d tried to kiss her, but then she’d leapt away from him like he was emitting deadly fumes. Afterward, he rode the elevator up, turning the moment over and over in his head. Then in his penthouse, he’d turned over another moment in his memory—the one where she touched him. The moment her delicate fingers had stroked his bare skin. The way her pink lips parted and her eyes widened with lust-filled curiosity…