Banking the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 2)

by Max Monroe

“Oh, baby, she’s not your aunt. She’s just Uncle Thatch’s friend,” Claire interjected, flashing me an apologetic look.

  “Yeah, but her and Uncle Thatch are gonna get married and have a baby and they’s gonna take me and my new baby cousin to Disney World! We’re gonna have so much fun!”

  I wasn’t sure how in the hell to respond to that, which was a first for me. I generally had a retort to every-fucking-thing.

  “Mila!” Claire laughed in horror.

  “What?” she asked, not the least bit concerned she’d just planned out my future. “Uncle Thatch said it was a really good idea!”

  “Of course, he did,” I muttered and met Claire’s tickled gaze.

  “Tenacious,” she mouthed with a wink.

  “Mila! It’s time for presents, baby girl,” Frankie called loudly enough that we heard him. Mila ran out the door at a dead sprint, straight for the picnic table covered in pink wrapping paper and sparkly ribbons.

  As Claire and I followed her outside, she whispered in my direction, “What’d you tell Mila?”

  I grinned. “Everything you probably wanted to say but didn’t because you’re a good mother.”

  “I hope you told her to kick that little asshole in the nuts.”

  I winked. “Oh, don’t worry, it was definitely something along those lines.”

  She laughed, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. “Remind me to tell Thatch he’s not allowed to come to our house unless you’re with him.”

  “No doubt, I’ll tell him while I’m buying our future child’s and your daughter’s plane tickets to Orlando.”

  For now, I’ll give him a taste of his own medicine.

  I watched as Cassie took off down the street, knowing her foot must have been nearly to the floor. She’d excused herself while I was saying my good-byes, her plan only evident when I heard the little hamster engine of the Fiat roar to life.

  I shot out the front door at a jog, but she was already pulling away from the curb, my bag still inside.

  “Looks like you’re going to need a ride,” Frankie said as he slowly came up beside me.

  I forced a shrug as her fading taillights burned in my chest. “I probably should have warned her about coming here when I begged her to come bail me out this morning.”

  A woman like her only puts up with so much.

  “Yeah, what’s that about?” he asked.

  “It’s not important.”

  “Ah, okay. I’ll take that to mean the opposite. Our friendly hometown is still giving you hell about my sister.”

  I nodded even though it wasn’t a question, but I said nothing else. He didn’t need to know it wasn’t a remark about Margo that had upset me the most. It had been the comment about him that crawled under my skin. I turned to head into the house just as Mila came running out the front door. The sound of tires screeching to a stop filled the void behind me. Craning to look over my shoulder, I found Leadfoot Leann right back where she’d started.

  “Thatcher!” Cassie yelled, apparently having circled the block. “Get over here and get in the car!”

  Her smile was ear to ear, and there was nothing I could do to stop it from spreading to my own face. Cassie winked, but it wasn’t at me. Curiosity made me turn around to find the source.

  Mila stood there giggling and pointing at Cassie as Cassie pointed back at her.

  “What did I say?” Cassie yelled through the open window of the car.

  Mila’s little voice was shrill as she shouted back. “Give boys hell!”

  “Mila!” Claire admonished, but Frankie just laughed.

  “Okay, now I really like her,” he said, referring to my crazy driver. Safe to say he wasn’t the only one.

  I’d thrown her into the lion’s den, for fuck’s sake, but she’d flourished. Socializing and mingling without me and owning her yoga pants and T-shirt like a motherfucking gown. I still couldn’t figure out the birthday gift she’d managed to pull from her purse.

  She wasn’t actually upset with me over my deceitful directions and unexpected stop; she was just checking in to the game.

  With one final kiss to Mila’s and Claire’s cheeks and a fist bump for Frankie, I ran for the car and closed my hand around the door handle just as Cassie gassed it two feet and slammed on the brakes. Her laughter echoed throughout the neighborhood.

  “Okay, Mary, let me in the car.”

  “Mary!” she shrieked and floored it again.

  Frankie, Claire, and Mila looked on, laughing a little more with every exchange.

  “You better remember my name, Thatcher. Some other women might not care, but I’m liable to murder you.”

  “It’s just a nickname,” I said with a laugh as I finally got the door open.

  “A nickname?” she laughed. “Well, I know you don’t mean Mary of the Virgin variety, so you better explain.”

  “Poppins,” I clarified, but only after my ass hit the seat and both feet were in. She was more likely to wait for me if she was also waiting on an answer. “Where the hell did you get that Barbie in your purse?”

  She shrugged. “Stuff tends to build up in there.”

  “A Barbie? What else is in there? Tell me it’s handcuffs and a short skirt.”

  She shrugged again like it was the most normal thing in the world. “You better tell me where to go. I’m not good with directions.”

  “You just backtrack.”

  “All I remember is that your wang hangs left.”

  “Not my wang,” I contested through a laugh.

  She smiled. “Take it up with the judge.”

  “Only if the judge is you,” I teased back.

  “Put your boner away, Thatcher. The ruling is final,” she said with a wink and pretended to bang a gavel on the dash. My cock must have been a pretty shitty listener, though, because that fucker did the exact opposite. I shifted in my seat and pointed in the direction she should go.

  “Just follow this back around to the right and turn right at the light.”

  “Right? Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure,” I said with a secret smile.

  After she was done, I pointed out the next left, and that was when she really got suspicious.

  “Wasn’t the Saw Mill River Parkway back there? I thought I saw a sign.”

  “You have to go a different way to get back on,” I lied.

  Her eyes narrowed, but she kept driving for another mile before she questioned it.

  “I think your wang is fucking busted, Thatcher. I’m not seeing the Parkway anywhere.”

  “Oh, you know what?” I said, playing along. “I think you’re right. Just go right up here. You can turn around in this parking lot.”

  “Ughhhhhh,” she moaned, and I had to stifle a laugh.

  Gravel slid under the tires as she gunned it through the entrance and started to execute her turn. When she was about halfway through her U-turn, I yelled, “Wait! Stop!”

  “What?” she shrieked back, slamming forcefully enough on the brakes that we skidded to a stop.

  I pulled the door handle to open it and climbed from the car, watching as she did the same before answering. Her eyes were crazy again, and I felt the phantom lasers on my skin. Luckily, the burn of an imaginary laser was pretty mild. “Okay. Don’t be mad, but I wanted a milkshake.”

  “Oh, you motherfucker,” she seethed.

  With a jaunty wave and a completely unapologetic smile, I turned to head into the ice cream shop, maniacal laughter rumbling my chest all the way to the door.

  “Laugh it up now, but that’s the only milkshake you’re gonna see today. And you better fucking believe mine brings all the boys to the yard.”

  I’d see about that.

  “Get out of the car, Cass,” Thatch demanded, holding the door open with his bear claw of a hand. I stared at it with irrational anger as the size and strength and fucking veins of it did their best to tempt me into mental porn GIF territory.

  Fuck you, traitorous tactile teases.


  One activity after the next, the giant fucker had tricked me into chauffeuring him around all day. To the party and ice cream, of course, but also to the bank and several rental properties he apparently owned in Queens before taking over behind the wheel. Even then, I had a feeling he’d been tempted to take me to a bar or two, but I’d slurred several sleepy threats to his life and, evidently, one stuck.

  Thank fuck.

  We were currently sitting in front of his building, and I was more than ready to head back to my place so I could begin my sleep marathon. But he was trying like hell to cockblock me from my bed. After everything he’d put me through today, now he was convinced I was too tired to drive home.

  I shook my head. “I know I’m a real joy to be around, but you’ve monopolized enough of my time today. So, move your ass, T-bag. I’m going home.”

  He stretched his big arms across the top of the door and the roof of the car and leaned forward, smirking down at me. “Honey, I know you have many talents, but I’m seeing a dilemma with trying to drive from there.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, fighting the gravity of my heavy eyelids. As much as I tried, they wouldn’t open past a squint.

  “Pretty sure you need the steering wheel and pedals to get this clown car to move.” He nodded toward the opposite side of the dashboard. “Which just so happens to be over there.”

  I followed his eyes and realized I was still in the passenger seat.

  Well, shit. I guess I really am tired.

  “Thanks, Captain Obvious, but I already knew that,” I lied, unbuckling my seat belt and making a move to climb over the console. Thatch stopped me before I could make another inch of progress by locking his big, meaty arms around my waist and pulling me out of the car.

  “Goddammit! Put me down, you ogre!”

  But Shrek ignored my demands, tossing me over his shoulder and striding toward his building. With impressive precision, he tossed the keys to the doorman and instructed him to park the Zipcar in an approved space.

  “No! Do not park it! I’m using it!” I shouted as I slapped him across the back with an opened palm.

  “Calm down,” he said through a chuckle as his legs ate up the tile in long, fluid strides.

  “Thatch!” I shouted even louder, my voice echoing against the marble walls of the swank lobby. Fucking hell, I hadn’t been in control of one goddamn thing today.

  One big hand landed against my ass in a smack, and I squealed in response.

  “Cool it, Crazy, or else I’ll just keep spanking.”

  I bored holes into his back, wishing like hell my feet were on the ground so I could slap the shit out of him. “If you touch my ass one more time, I will bite your dick off.”

  “You know, I’m not much on teeth, but for you, I’ll find a way to enjoy it.”

  Fucking king of one-upping.

  He gripped the backs of my thighs with his big hands and strode onto the elevator. I heard him tap a button as the doors slid shut and then we were moving, up, up, way up, to what I could only assume was the penthouse level.

  Thatch didn’t put me down until we were inside his apartment and my ass was hitting a plush leather couch. “Stay there,” he demanded. “I’m going to heat us up some food, and hopefully, that will give you enough energy to ride the subway home.”

  “I’m not a dog,” I retorted as I let my head fall back against the cushions. I didn’t even allow myself the opportunity to browse his apartment. My eyes had already fallen shut from the luxurious feel of his couch, and I was too tired to think about anything else. The decor, the man—the weird way arguing with him made my blood hum—all of it would have taken a considerably larger amount of energy and cognitive function to explore.

  “Comfortable, isn’t it?”

  I peeked out of one eye to see Thatch standing above me with an amused grin on his face.

  “I thought you were making me something to eat?”

  “I thought you weren’t tired?”

  The room went dark even as I flipped him the bird. “I’m just resting my eyes.”

  “You know, that’s exactly what my mom says right before she takes a forty-hour nap.”

  My lips twitched. Funny bastard.

  “Shut up and make me food,” I retorted, but my voice wasn’t very convincing. Sleep was trying like hell to make me her bitch.

  All I got in response were a few soft chuckles and the sound of his footsteps fading away.

  “Huh?” I mumbled at the feel of big arms cuddling my body against a rock-hard chest.

  Am I having another Henry Cavill dream?

  I lifted my hands to cover my eyes from the light and the possibility of getting hit by rogue debris. It always seemed to be dusty in my Superman fantasies. And if it wasn’t a dirt thing, it was another. Last Cavill fantasy, I got a mouth full of cape instead of Supercock, and I had promised myself I’d never let that unfortunate dream sequence happen ever again.

  “You fell asleep on the couch in about the most awkward position I’ve ever seen. I figured you’d be more comfortable in my bed,” the voice said, soft yet husky, and undoubtedly turning me on.

  “Henry?”

  “Who the fuck is Henry?” The voice turned angry as we continued to move—or maybe we were flying?—to some unknown place.

  I blinked my eyes open and came face-to-face with Thatch. His brown eyes were darker than normal, and his mouth was set in a firm line. I reached up and let my fingers run across the dark, scruffy, short beard covering his jaw. “You’re not Henry Cavill.”

  “No,” he said with a smirk. “I’m better.”

  “This dream is different, but hell if I’m not already into it.”

  The truth was, I’d been here before, but it had been more of a daydream, a completely conscious exploration of what it’d be like to be close enough to Thatch that I could feel him, smell him—fuck him until I couldn’t walk. It made complete sense that I’d transitioned into thinking about it in my sleep too.

  A soft chuckle left his lips. “This isn’t a dream, honey.”

  My back was pressed into something soft, maybe a comforter…or maybe we were about to bang on a cloud? I didn’t know, but one thing I did know was that I was down for it. All of it.

  Dream Thatch lay down beside me and pulled blankets over top of us, and that’s when I realized we were in a bed, a huge motherfucker of a bed. Fantasy or not, it made sense the Jolly Green Giant would need a California King to accommodate his size.

  He got comfortable beside me, stretching out and getting into what I assumed was his preferred sleeping position—on his back with one beefy arm stretched over his head. I turned on my side and perused his body, even lifting up the covers to find that he was only wearing boxer briefs. Lord, the muscles on this man. He was a buffet, and I was ready to get my money’s worth.

  “Cass? What are you doing?” He watched me rub my hands across his firm chest.

  “I’m horny,” I told him. Because, yeah, I was, and why did Dream Thatch have to be so damn irresistible? I had to squeeze my thighs together just to curb the pulsing sensation between them. But it wasn’t enough. I needed more.

  He laughed softly. “I think you’re dreaming, honey. You should probably go back to sleep.”

  But he didn’t make any attempts to stop my hands from taking inventory. And they kept exploring, sliding past his belly and down to his briefs. Oh, yeah. Dream Thatch was horny too.

  I smirked down at him as I got to my knees and straddled his hips. A moan left my lips the instant I felt him hard and thick and pressed against my pussy. “Oh, fuck yes.”

  His eyebrows rose to his forehead. “Honey—”

  “Shh.” I pressed my fingers to his lips. “Just lie back and enjoy the ride, Thatch. I’m gonna make this real fucking good for both of us.”

  “Shit,” he groaned as I rotated my hips. “Fuck. What is happening?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m really liking it.”

  “Are you ev
en awake right now?” He gripped my hips, stopping my movements. His eyes stared into mine, a heady mix of concern and raging lust.

  I shook my head and laughed at Dream Thatch’s attempts to trick me, and I bit into my bottom lip.

  “You’re awake.” I rotated my hips again—despite his efforts to stop me—to punctuate my meaning. Thatch’s dick was wide awake and raring to go. Oh, yeah.

  “And I’m fucking loving the feel of you between my legs.”

  “Christ,” he groaned again.

  I leaned down and pressed my lips against his. I slipped my tongue inside his mouth and kissed him deep. He stopped questioning me then, and he tangled his hands into my hair as he took control of the kiss. Groping intensified, and the race to get as close as possible turned into an all-out wrestling match. We were both moaning into each other’s mouths, our bodies instinctively moving and grinding in a perfect pleasure-inducing rhythm.

  When it felt like a spark lit a fire between my legs, everything started to become a lot less fuzzy dream and more lust-fueled reality. Surprised, I sat up, breaking the kiss and staring down at him. This feeling and the rapid rise and fall of my chest were not the results of a dream. Nope, I was definitely awake and about two seconds away from fucking Thatch.

  Well, this is unexpected.

  I rubbed a hand over my eyes, blinking past the fog, and looked at the man beneath me. Thatch appeared utterly confused, but I could still see that layer of need beneath his pupils.

  “Cass?” he asked, gauging my face.

  I thought it over for a good thirty seconds. I could stop this before it went any further fairly easily. I knew he wouldn’t push the issue. But the only problem was I didn’t have any good reasoning to back that option up. I was now wide awake, Thatch’s cock was still hard, and hell if my pussy wasn’t begging for a ride.

  And if we’re really looking at the situation objectively, he woke me up. This meant Thatch had to take responsibility for his actions and help me fall back asleep.

  Yeah, we’re definitely going to finish this. I was going to ride the Jolly Green Giant until he lulled me into a mind-numbing orgasm and right back to motherfucking sleep.