The Billionaire Boss Next Door(81)

Between one blink and the next, he opens his eyes and smiles.

“Good morning,” he says softly. Evidently, it doesn’t take his brain any time at all to boot up.

“Good morning,” I say with a smile. “I guess we’re going to have to actually go in to work today, huh?”

“You trying to get your boss to let you play hooky again?” He smirks like the devil, and I snort.

“God, I wish, but I have too many things to get done today.”

“You want to hear the silver lining?”

I nod.

“You have another meeting with your boss tonight.”

“I do?”

“Uh-huh,” he leans forward and presses a soft, too-short kiss to my lips. “Tonight. Eight p.m. Right here.” He reaches forward and places his big hands on my breasts. “And you are not allowed to cover these up.”

“So, just business casual, then?” My responding giggles turn to a moan when he leans forward to suck one nipple into his mouth and flick his tongue against it.

“Clothes aren’t optional, Greer,” he retorts in his bossy voice and moves his greedy mouth to my other breast, kissing and sucking and swirling his tongue and me into a frenzy.

I’m two seconds away from climbing on top of his body and riding him until we’re late for work, but a pounding coming from the front door stops me before I can even get started.

It’s loud and demanding and, in a way, confusing.

Because I swear, I’ve heard it before. From him.

“How are you in two places at once? Did you clone yourself?”

“Huh?” he asks, too busy jumping up from the bed and putting on pants to follow my logic.

“The door. That’s exactly what you sound like when you pound on mine.”

He shakes his head with a smile and tosses one of his shirts at me from the closet. I catch it, but I don’t make a move to do anything else.

“Are you coming?” he asks, and I laugh.

Oh boy, he’s funny.

“Uh, no. I think I’ll hide out here until I find out who it is.”

“Chicken,” he taunts, and I shrug.

“You bet your ass. Now, get out there and answer the door. If I’ve disappeared when you come back, check the roof.”

He charges forward and gives me a quick kiss and a tight hug as the pounding gets even louder.

Whoever’s on the other side of his door doesn’t like fucking around with waiting.

“No roof. Stay put. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, no roof,” I agree as he jogs out the door. “But I’m not making any promises about the closet!”

I fall back on the bed and pull his shirt to my nose to take a whiff. It smells like fresh laundry and him, and a stupid, sappy smile curls the corners of my mouth.

I like him.

All-consuming, thought-hijacking, stalker-making kind of like, and as much as it scares me, it excites me even more.

I’d all but shut down the possibility of finding someone this compatible, someone to love me.

But it seems like, maybe, I’m not out of the game yet.

My ears perk up as Trent’s voice carries into the bedroom from the front door. It’s loud and surprised and devoid of the lazy ease of just a few seconds ago.

In fact, it sounds like the Trent I met months ago.

I lean forward, wrapping the shirt around my body just in case and listen even harder.

“Dad, what are you doing here?”

Dad? Dad? Motherfucking Dad?!

As in, the boss to end all bosses who makes my billionaire boss look like a little baby boss?

Oh shit.

I jump like I’ve been electrocuted and make it from the bed to the closet in one bounding leap. I close myself in quickly and take big, gulping breaths. Unfortunately, that makes me feel like I’m going to hyperventilate.

Small, normal breaths, dummy, my brain coaches.

Of course, from my new hiding spot, I can no longer hear what they’re saying, but I don’t care. I’d much rather huddle in the dark, silent safety of the closet than hang around—almost naked—in his bedroom just waiting for his dad to walk in and find me.

Trent finds me fifteen minutes later, apology and disquiet both stark in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I had no idea he was coming, but I told him I’d meet him at the hotel in twenty minutes. If I’m not there…”

“I know,” I say with a wave of my hand, eager to make him feel at least a little better. The last thing I want is to be another worry on his giant list. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll get ready and then swing by the office to pick up the new samples and sketches I got in before I meet you there.”

He smashes his lips to mine gratefully and pulls away way too soon. “Thank you.”

“You got it,” I say teasingly. “You’ve got to be flexible when you’re banging the boss.”

His eyes light up, and he winks. “Tonight. We’ll see just how flexible you really are.”

The tectonic plates between my legs shift until I’m squeezing them together to fight against a full-on earthquake.

Trent smirks and grabs a suit from behind me before heading straight for the shower.

I head for home.

I’ve got a lot to do.