Banking the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 2)

by Max Monroe

  Cassie turned toward the stairs with a smirk, and Sean just shook his head. “Make sure you’re both ready in an hour. Not an hour for screwing and an hour for getting ready. An hour total.”

  “I—”

  “I don’t need to know details,” he interrupted me.

  I laughed and slapped a friendly hand on his shoulder. “See you in an hour.”

  I walked calmly until I got to the stairs, and then took them two at a time and jogged down the hall until I found the room her mom had led me to to drop our stuff halfway through the family hellos.

  I opened the door and scooted through before leaning against it when I caught sight of Cassie’s completely bare back. A bare back usually meant a bare front, and I couldn’t wait for the moment when she turned around.

  “I know you’re back there, Thatcher,” she called without turning around as she lifted a foot up onto the bed and started smoothing lotion onto her thigh.

  “I wasn’t trying to hide it, Cassie.”

  I shoved off the door and moved forward when she didn’t say anything else, pressing my hips to her ass and squeezing the bare skin at the bottom of her stomach.

  “You have the sexiest fucking body,” I breathed into the crook of her neck. She shivered.

  “We don’t have time for sex right now,” she told me, pulling away from my lips and leaning forward. She pressed her ass into my dick, and her tits swung out in front of her just enough that I caught a peek of her nipples from above. I groaned.

  “There’s always time for sex.”

  “Nope.” She slapped my hand away as it sought the weight of her breast.

  “Does that mean we’ll have time for sex later? I really like the sex time.”

  “We’ll see.” She awarded me with a smile as she turned in my arms and pushed her tits to my stomach. “Maybe if you’re a real good boyfriend.”

  I was wondering how long it would take for her to start exchanging that sentiment now that I had. I had a feeling she was tossing that out there to test me, challenge me, but it didn’t matter. I liked the sound of it no matter how it came, and I found myself wanting to set her up to use it even more.

  “I can be good. Can you?”

  She shook her head, pushed up on her toes, and nipped at the vein in my throat. “Not tonight, baby. I’m too good at being bad.”

  “How many drinks has she had?” Sean shouted over the crowd noise and music.

  I watched as Cassie climbed on the stage and pulled a man in his seventies up with her. Disco lights strobed, and the beat of the music made the floor shake under our feet.

  “Five,” I answered with a smile before taking a sip of my water. I’d been watching out for her and soaking in all the entertainment she offered. I, myself, hadn’t had a drop, content to get to know Sean and be the designated driver.

  A lot of men would be upset watching, but I didn’t get the point. She was enjoying herself, and I was here to make sure she did it safely. I certainly never thought she’d be grinding on some old guy, but I never wanted a woman I could predict.

  I was also very rationally aware of the plethora of attention she’d been getting from young guys, guys she’d actually entertain the idea of dating, and she hadn’t paid a single one any attention. Even in the throes of her drunken good time, she respected me. That’s all I needed. A wild woman I could trust.

  The rare combination had seemed damn near impossible to find until now.

  Her phone buzzed in her purse on my shoulder, so I pulled it out and read the drunken text message thread she had going with an unsuspecting Kline.

  And yes, I said on my shoulder. You should know by now I have very little shame.

  Cassie: Get 25% off onesies this Sunday at Carter’s by subscribing now. Text NO to opt out of messages.

  Kline: NO

  Cassie: No baby? No problem! Text YES to subscribe to deals from our sister company, Trojan. Text NO to opt out of messages.

  Kline: NO. Take my number off your list!

  My eyes went back to my genius girlfriend. I knew Kline was too smart to let this go on forever without paying someone to hack Verizon, but I was enjoying it while it lasted.

  Sean pulled my attention away from the sway of Cassie’s hips as she bumped and grinded into the older guy and back to him. “I like you for her.”

  “Huh?” I asked as though I couldn’t hear him over the noise even though I’d heard him just fine. I wanted him to elaborate.

  He knew I’d heard, but he smirked and humored me anyway.

  “Cassie is a certain kind of girl. She gets bored easily, needs the thrill of a dance with some fucking grandpa and the freedom to drink however much she wants. But I usually worry about her while she’s doing it, wondering who’s got her back. I like that I won’t have to wonder anymore.”

  I liked it too.

  “You won’t,” I promised, and he nodded.

  Somehow I’d passed Cassie’s twenty-one-year-old brother’s test. It wasn’t exactly the entrance exam to NASA, but right then, to me, it felt even better.

  My eyes fluttered open as the Oregon sun filtered in through the windowpanes of my childhood bedroom. The warmth of a large body enveloping mine had me peeking out of one eye to survey my surroundings. Thatch was curled around me—one hand holding my boob, while his head used my chest as a pillow.

  His handsome face looked so young, blissfully unaware and deep in sleep. His dark lashes rested softly against his cheeks as soft breaths puffed out from his lips. I ran my fingers through the messy strands of his jet-black hair as I tried to recount last night’s events.

  One thing was certain; I had definitely danced and drunk my ass off. It had been an all-in kind of night, and I had forced Sean and Thatch to close the bar down with me, even demanding Taco Bell on the drive home. Good thinking, Cassie. That fast food had probably saved me from a morning of praying to the porcelain gods.

  Thatch stirred in his sleep. His foggy, dark eyes met mine.

  “Good morning,” I said with a soft smile.

  “Morning, honey,” he said in a raspy voice, but he didn’t move his head from my chest. Both of his hands were now holding on to my boobs and squeezing them playfully. “Mmm,” he moaned. “I need to add a new rule. Number fifty-one. These tits are my pillows.”

  I laughed and flicked his forehead with my index finger.

  “Ow, fuck,” he responded through a laugh. “What was that for?”

  “I’m about to revoke your rule-making rights. You’ve made over twelve rules in the past forty-eight hours.”

  He peeked up at me through sleepy eyes. “Rule number fifty-two. You can never revoke my rule-making rights.”

  I grinned and decided to add a rule of my own. “Rule number fifty-three. If one of us has to be the designated driver, it will always be you.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll actually agree to that one.”

  I quirked a brow in surprise. “Really?”

  “I think I have more fun watching you get drunk and wild than I actually do getting blitzed myself.”

  “That’s crazy talk,” I refuted. “No one likes being the sober person dealing with a drunken idiot.”

  “Yeah, but you’re an exception. You’re my favorite drunken idiot.”

  A few giggles slipped past my lips, and his smile turned wide and blinding in response. He rested his chin on my chest and gazed up at me. His eyes were so endearing—full of zero pretense or judgment—and their dark depths revealed that every word coming out of his mouth was the truth.

  “You took care of me last night, didn’t you?”

  He shrugged. “I kept an eye on things, but I mostly just sat back, chatted with Sean, and let you do your thing. Did you have fun last night?”

  I was with you. Of course, I had fun.

  “I did,” I answered with a nod. “What about you?”

  “Besides worrying about that old guy having a heart attack, I had a fantastic night.”

  I tilted my head to the sid
e. “What old guy?”

  “Your dance partner for most of the night.”

  “I danced with an old guy?”

  He nodded as a slow, amused grin consumed his face.

  The wheels started to turn, and my brain caught up with the hazy memories. “Oh…the old guy in the blue blazer? The one who kept pelvic thrusting his geriatric crotch into my ass?”

  Thatch’s face turned up with hilarity. “In his defense, you were encouraging his senior citizen dance moves.”

  I cracked up at that. “Oh, man. I bet Sean was thrilled. How bad did I embarrass him last night?”

  “Like on a scale of zero to ten?”

  I nodded.

  One of his hands left my boobs and slid a lock of hair behind my ear. “I’d say a twelve, maybe? Twelve and a half, tops?”

  “Fantastic.” I fist-pumped the air. “The night was a success, then.”

  He chuckled.

  “What about you? How bad did I embarrass you?”

  He tilted his head in amusement. “You didn’t embarrass me.”

  “Oh, come on.” I raised a knowing brow. “Be honest, Thatcher.”

  “Honey, you didn’t embarrass me,” he responded in an even tone. “I thoroughly enjoyed watching you have a good time.”

  “Even when I was grinding on the old dude?”

  He grinned. “Especially when you were grinding on the old dude.”

  My sleepy brain buzzed at the abnormality overload. That was never a guy’s reaction.

  This man. What was I going to do with him?

  He never failed to amaze me with his abnormal yet refreshing responses to my behavior. Thatch had become someone in my life that I could always rely on. Someone I could trust to have my back no matter what. Those kinds of people were so rare in a world filled with selfish motives and one-track minds. I felt lucky I had found someone like that in him.

  Yeah, but how long will it last?

  Anxiety clawed at my chest at that train of thought. We had started our relationship on a joke, constantly trying to one-up and out-prank each other, but somewhere along the way, things had changed. Sure, I was highly skilled at avoiding anything related to commitment or giving someone else any form of control over me, but I also wasn’t blind to what was happening with us. Somewhere along the way we had hopped on this path of something that resembled an actual relationship.

  And if I was honest with myself, I didn’t want this, whatever it was, to end.

  I didn’t know where I wanted it to go, but I knew to the root of my soul, I didn’t want it to be over. I was never one who looked toward the future, but with Thatch, I was having a hard time not looking toward the future.

  I couldn’t imagine my day-to-day life without him in it.

  “What are you thinking about, honey?” he asked, voice soft. His hand caressed my cheek as his eyes stared into mine.

  I don’t want to fuck this up. I don’t want to lose you.

  I leaned into his touch. “No matter what happens between us, we’ll always be close, right?”

  His brows raised in confusion. “Close?”

  “Yeah,” I answered. “Me and you, we’ll always be…” I stopped midsentence when I couldn’t find the strength to say all of the things I really wanted to say. My heart and brain were at war, one wanting to profess something far stronger than like, while the other froze up in fear of the unknown.

  I had never been the type of woman who stayed with one thing for more than a short amount of time. So how could I ask him for any kind of long-term commitment or declaration of his feelings for me if I wasn’t certain my current feelings for him would never change?

  But they won’t change. He’s your person, you fucking commitment-phobic moron.

  Thatch didn’t pry or press for an explanation. For several quiet moments, his gaze didn’t leave mine. His eyes searched for my unsaid words, and when he found whatever he was looking for, he changed positions—his body hovering over mine and his hands resting beside my head.

  “Don’t worry, honey,” he said, his lips mere inches from mine. “We’re on the same page.”

  “But how do you know?” I asked. “What if we’re not even reading the same fucking book?”

  “Because I know.” His mouth quirked up at the corners as a confident smile took over his lips. “We’re on the same word, in the same paragraph, on the same page, in the same fantastic fucking book.”

  “But how do you know?”

  “Because it’s our book, Cassie. Yours and mine. This is our story, and I’ll be damned if I let it end badly.”

  I know what you’re thinking.

  Avoiding party of two?

  Our table is ready.

  But should you expect anything less confusing from us? This is Thatch and me we’re talking about here. We could have a reality show called Defying Normal.

  But at least we are on the same show.

  He chuckled softly as his eyes softened to caramel. Nose to nose, all I could see was Thatch’s face highlighted by the soft morning sun. His eyes were gleaming and dark as they studied me. His gaze moved to my lips and stayed there for a beat as he just took me in. His mouth was close. So close that our breaths mingled. And God, I loved his mouth. His full, soft lips. I loved the taste and lush feel of those perfect lips.

  Heat pooled in my belly until it consumed my entire body. I was desperate for him, for everything he could give me. I reached up and traced his jaw with my fingers.

  “Same fucking page,” he repeated, but he didn’t wait for my response.

  He crushed his lips to mine and kissed me like a man starved for my taste, my breaths, my heart. Around and straight down the center, his tongue worked mine until I couldn’t tell where his ended and mine began. The fabric of my pajama shorts bunched easily in the grip of his hands as he pulled them away from my hips and down until his palms met the bare skin of my ass.

  “You feel so goddamn good,” he breathed into the tiny sliver of space between my lips. I sucked it in and let it overwhelm me, my head falling back until his lips had nowhere to go but my throat.

  His tongue traced the line of my pulsing vein, and my chest heaved. Fuck. This would make some fantastic vampire porn.

  Easing his weight off of me, he forced my shorts down the rest of the way and licked his top lip before biting the bottom with a groan. “No panties, baby?” One thick finger filled me in a stroke, but it didn’t stay long. He pulled it back and sucked it clean. “You have the sweetest pussy. All that attitude must turn right to sugar.”

  I rolled my eyes until he stood up and shoved his boxer briefs straight to the ground.

  A lot of fucking inches, hard, purple, and angry, brought my gaze right back.

  “Tits out,” he ordered with a wink. “They just put in a direct request.”

  Smiling, I pulled my shirt up and over my head and spread my legs wide.

  Both of his big hands went straight to my calves and up, smoothing the line of each leg with a touch so gentle I didn’t know it was possible.

  His sweet eyes said so much as they held mine. They didn’t look at my tits or my spread pussy. They looked right into mine and stayed there. My skin tingled from head to toe.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

  “Thatch,” I whispered. A rarity, I didn’t have anything else to say.

  He covered me with his body, his forearms in the bed, pressed every accessible inch of his skin to mine, and slid into me all the way.

  I moaned at the feel of him, bare and pressed deep. His hips moved slowly, with measured motion as he positioned his cock at just the right spot to put friction on my clit.

  “Shit,” he muttered and stopped midthrust. “I forgot a condom.”

  He started to pull out, but I wrapped my legs around his waist and urged him to go deeper with my heels. “Don’t stop, Thatch. Please, don’t stop,” I begged. “I’m clean. I’m on the pill. Just don’t stop. I need to feel you.”

  �
��Fuck,” he groaned. “Believe me, I don’t want to stop. But are you sure, honey?” He moved both of his hands to my face and cupped my cheeks gently in his palms. “You know I would never put you at risk, right? I’m clean. I get tested often.”

  But what is often? How many women has he been with since his last test? I hated to think it, and honestly hadn’t until his gentle insistence, but Thatch’s pussy persuasion was strong. But what I did know managed to drown out those thoughts. I knew Thatch, or at least I was starting to, and he wouldn’t put me in a precarious position. Not like this, not for some cheap thrill.

  “I trust you.” I tilted my hips and encouraged him deeper. “I. Trust. You,” I repeated the words, and I wasn’t sure if was for me or for him. But I knew I needed him. Needed this. Needed to reinforce the difference between this and every other sexual encounter I’d ever had. This was personal, planned, and most definitely devoid of regret.

  His eyes glazed over at my words, a guttural groan filling the room so distinctly it felt like it’d been mined from his chest. He crushed his mouth to mine again and pushed his cock to the hilt. Everywhere he could reach—and with his size, he could reach a lot of things—he touched me, his hands and fingers moving over my heated skin and setting every nerve ending on fire.

  Once his tongue found mine again, it didn’t leave, delving deeper and harder, just to slow down and linger on every stroke. I wasn’t sure if either of us was actually capable of stopping, both starved for one other, but it never entered my mind to find out.

  His hips picked up the pace, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the otherwise quiet room, as his hands slid up my sides and caressed the pliant flesh of my breasts. I trembled in response, and my breaths turned to erratic pants mixed with pleading words falling from my lips. “More. More. More,” I chanted, mindless of my volume despite our proximity to my family.

  “You feel so good. God, Cassie, what are you doing to me?” He pumped his hips slowly then, moving in and out of me and completely changing the angle, while low, husky groans escaped from his lungs.