Banking the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 2)

by Max Monroe

  Sally grinned and wiped her hands off with a dish towel. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  “I did. Thank you so much for having me.”

  “You’re welcome here anytime, sweetheart.” She lovingly tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. It seemed intimate in a way I wasn’t expecting, like she really did intend to consider me a daughter. My thought-crazed brain wasn’t exactly sure what to make of it right then, but I knew I’d figure it out eventually. “I hope you’ll force Thatcher to stop by and see us more often.”

  The longing in her voice made me nod without hesitation. “Consider it a done deal.”

  “I have a feeling you know all the right things to say and do to keep my son on a tight leash. And I can’t tell you how happy that makes me. He’s a good boy, but someone needs to keep his ass in line.”

  I laughed. Little did she know, I never had walked very straight myself. I’d do my best not to burst her bubble, though. “Speaking of him being a good boy, I’d love to see some baby photos.” I thought it over. “Or blackmail-worthy stories and photos of teenage Thatch.”

  “Oh, sweetheart. All you have to do is say the word.”

  “Yeah, I think it’s time I steal Cassie before you bust out the scrapbooks, Mom.” Thatch walked into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around my waist. “I know your game, and this is me effectively blocking it before you get started.”

  Sally held up her middle finger in response, and I died laughing.

  Thatch feigned offense. “I swear, the two most important women in my life are the ones who flip me the bird more than anyone else. I’m feeling seriously short on the love right now.”

  His mom grinned at me and retorted, “Your head is already big enough, Thatcher. If we showered you in love all the time, you wouldn’t be able to walk upright.”

  “Sally! Come sit on the couch and give me some sugar, honey!” Ken called from his cozy spot on the sofa in the living room.

  “I’m too busy cleaning up after you to toss out affection!” she shouted back, but she still managed to meander his way.

  “Are you ready for your surprise?” Thatch whispered into my ear once we were alone in the kitchen.

  I looked up at him with curious eyes. “What surprise?”

  He kissed the tip of my nose and took my hand, leading me out the terrace doors and through the backyard. He urged me to sit down on a bench that rested beneath the shade of a big oak tree before taking a deep breath, reaching into his pocket, and pulling out a small black box.

  Flies, small birds…waterfowl—any or all of them could have flown right into my mouth for as wide as it opened. “What are you doing?”

  He smiled and got down on one knee in front of me. The tiny hinges squeaked lightly as he popped open the box, and my eyes met the sparkly, gorgeous, overwhelmingly beautiful sight of a pink diamond nestled in the center of a platinum band.

  It was the one and only ring I had ever pictured as my perfect engagement ring.

  Definitely, definitely not joking, my brain whispered in awe.

  Was he fucking serious right now?

  I slapped him clear across the face.

  “Ow, fuck, Cass,” he said, but he kept grinning like a lunatic.

  I pointed an accusing finger in his direction. “How did you know about this ring?”

  “Because I know you.” I narrowed my eyes. He wasn’t that good. “And maybe you mentioned this ring to me several months ago when we were searching for a missing cat.”

  I shoved his shoulder hard enough that he nearly fell back on his ass, but somehow, he stood his ground and just kept smiling like this crazy proposal made any sense. Like I wasn’t completely losing my shit. Like it was normal to propose to someone. Twice.

  “That was forever ago. How did you even remember that? Are you on drugs?”

  “There are certain things I’ll never forget. In my lifetime, so far, most of those memories include you.”

  I stared down at him in shock, and my heart continued to pound inside my chest. I felt like it was trying to escape my body.

  His eyes softened to caramel. “Be my wife, Cassie Phillips.”

  I stood up and paced in front of him. “Jesus H Christ,” I muttered to myself.

  He grabbed my hips and stopped my momentum. “Marry me, honey. Spend the rest of your life making outrageous, wild, insane kinds of trouble with me.”

  I smacked him in the dick so hard that he fell onto his side and held his balls.

  “Ow! Holy fucking shit!”

  I snatched the box out of his hand and stared down at the ring while he lay fetal and struggled to catch his breath. “This isn’t really going as planned,” he wheezed.

  I took in the gorgeous ring, and my heart grew three sizes.

  This was my ring. The ring.

  God, he was such an idiot. A perfect idiot. My idiot. But a fucking idiot for sure.

  And for some reason, I didn’t ask any of the questions a sane human being would ask in that moment. What this meant for us or if he was sure or if he thought it was fucking crazy that it had all started as a prank.

  Love had taken over. And I was finding, when it came to that stupid four-letter word, all rational thought fled the building. Love made you senseless—me, more so—and it made you follow your heart even if your brain was shouting, What in the fuck is happening right now?

  We had never once exchanged the sentiment, but as I stared into the eyes of this man, who looked like he might want to strangle me or possibly needed to ice his balls, I knew it didn’t matter. My heart had taken control and was driving this crazy train of spontaneity.

  Eventually, Thatch got himself to standing and made his way over to the bench and sat down.

  I stomped my way over to him and held the box in front of his face. He covered his crotch and stared up at me with confusion.

  “Yes.” I shook the box in his face.

  His brows rose to his forehead. “Yes?”

  “Yes, you crazy asshole,” I said and held out my left hand. “Put that gorgeous fucking ring on my finger before I slap you in the dick again.”

  Thatch sat there for a few moments just gazing back me, his eyes searching mine.

  And then, the motherfucker grinned.

  He took the box from my persistent hand and slid the ring down my finger. His lips kissed it softly once it was in place. “Come here,” he said as he stood and lifted me into his arms. “Kiss the hell out of me with that perfect, crazy mouth of yours.”

  He didn’t have to ask twice.

  I wrapped my legs around his waist and crushed my lips to his.

  I’d come to his parents’ as his fiancée, but I’d be leaving as a woman planning to get married. There wasn’t normally a difference, but the change for me was staggering.

  Cassie was wrapped around me like second skin as we sat together beneath the old tree in my parents’ backyard. Crickets chirped and fireflies glowed in the distance.

  I didn’t want to be anywhere but here, with my soon-to-be wife, breathing her air, smelling her sweet skin, and just holding on to her, savoring this quiet sliver of time where nothing else mattered but us.

  I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to have kids in the future after the number of times she’d slapped me in the dick, but no doubt, I didn’t want to be anywhere else but here, with her—my fucking lunatic of a woman.

  Twice, she’d said yes. And the second time she wasn’t high off of an adrenaline rush and taunted by a challenge. When she had said yes—well, yes, you crazy asshole—I’d seen her wild, untamed heart inside the depths of her blue eyes, and I’d known instantly she wasn’t saying yes because she didn’t want to fold. She’d said yes because she wanted this as much as I did.

  Same fucking page.

  Yeah, I know. Same unspoken page.

  No offense, but fuck you guys.

  We’ll talk about it when we’re good and ready.

  “Come on, Thatcher. Take me somewhere good,” Cassie whispered in my e
ar. My lips curved into a grin at the feel of her mouth skimming lightly across the skin.

  “Somewhere good, huh? What’d you have in mind?”

  “Nope. No way. That’s not the way this works. You just have to surprise me.”

  I spanned the whole of her knee with my hand and gave it a squeeze.

  “Okay, honey. I think I can manage that.”

  Up and off the bench, I did the same for her, lifting her to standing with ease.

  Her breath caught, and my cock jerked awake. “I swear, I never get used to your size.”

  I waggled my eyebrows. “I’ve heard it’s the kind of thing that takes a while to acclimate to.”

  Mischief sparkled in her eyes, right next to the moonlight. “Put your boner away, Thatcher.”

  I smiled and pulled her farther into my arms. My mouth met the skin of her neck, and I inhaled as I spoke. “Not a goddamn chance.”

  “At least wait until we’re not in your parents’ backyard,” she said through a laugh.

  “We better move fast, then, huh?” I teased, pulling away from the allure of her skin and leading her down and toward the garage at a jog.

  “Slow down, you giant!”

  I just laughed and pulled her harder, making her legs move at twice the speed.

  “What is it with you? Always making me run and shit,” she grumbled, and I shot her a cocky wink.

  “Uh oh,” she huffed with a smile. “Not the wink too. I’m gonna be in fucking trouble tonight, aren’t I?”

  “God, I hope so.” Grabbing her hips, I lifted her up, and over my shoulder she went. I ran across the lawn, and she squealed the whole way. I’d had dreams about this—this girl, my Nova, this kind of evening—even if I’d never known it.

  The door to the garage slammed behind me, and I put her on her feet so I could get the car ready to go.

  She flipped on the light switch for me as I pulled the cover off the Nova and pulled the chain to manually raise the larger garage door.

  I folded the cover and tossed it on the tool bench, dumping the keys out of the jar that hung on the cork wall before rounding the car and pulling open the driver’s side door.

  “What do you say? You ready to go for a ride?”

  Cassie’s eyes flared at the innuendo, and I didn’t think I’d ever get used to a woman who didn’t shy away from being challenged. She loved it, fed off it. Every reactive muscle in her body begged me for more.

  “I am.” She raised an eyebrow, and my smile deepened as though the two were physically connected. “Are you?”

  “Always, honey.” I winked and she shook her head. Half the time I did it anymore, it was just to see her reaction. I couldn’t get enough of it. “Jump in,” I offered as I folded into the seat.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as she climbed in beside me.

  I shook my head and laughed as I reached out to tuck a hair behind her tiny ear. “Nope. No way,” I spouted back. “I have to surprise you.”

  Her eyes turned heated, but I knew her well enough by now.

  “What if I…” she started, leaning over and rubbing a hand slowly up the inside of my thigh.

  “Good try,” I replied, and she scoffed. “Save it for later.”

  I put the key in the ignition and gave it a turn until the big block under the hood roared to life. The car shook violently, and lucky for me, it wasn’t the only thing.

  “Goddamn,” I told Cassie’s tits. “I’m never driving you in anything other than this car ever again.”

  Her head flew back in an arc of hilarity, and the line of her throat opened up like she was taking a shot. I wanted to drink from her in that moment, the sweet glow of her skin the only thing brightening the dim cab of my car.

  Her laughs echoed and the engine rumbled, and with my ring on her finger, I had an honest moment of wondering if there’d ever been a better instant in my thirty-five years of life.

  “Eyes to the windshield and drive,” she demanded with a wave of her hand. But the fact that she thrust it straight out from her chest at tit level didn’t go unnoticed. She secretly wanted me to have what I was after, even if she wouldn’t admit it.

  I shoved in the clutch, pushed the shifter into first gear, and revved up the idle as we coasted out of the garage.

  Cassie settled into her seat with ease, reaching forward to toggle the radio just as a streak of moonlight forced its way through the large front window.

  Soft rock filled the silence, Bob Seger’s “Night Moves” deepening the already curved line of my lips.

  Cassie looked from the road to me several times before sliding her way across the bench style seat and settling her entire body into the crook of my arm.

  I didn’t waste time pulling her closer and keeping her there as I drove down the gravel line of my parents’ driveway and out onto the mostly deserted road.

  I’d made this drive before. In this car, with a girl in exactly this position, but I’d never felt this at ease. Like no matter where the night led, it would be somewhere good.

  Cassie hummed along to the music as I drove and listened, and before I knew it, it’d been a full ten minutes and we were pulling down the dark, muddy tracks that led to the lake deep in the woods.

  “Is this what I think it is?” she asked, perking up and forcing my arm to fall from her shoulders.

  “I don’t know. What do you think it is?”

  “It’s either the place of teenage dreams, premature ejaculation, and first-time fondles, or the site of my death.”

  I laughed. “Door number one, honey.”

  “Holy shit. This place must be legendary for you. Do you store all the bras in your trunk? There’s a shrine, isn’t there?” she asked, rapid fire.

  “I’ll have you know I’ve only been here with five women.” She raised an eyebrow, and I pretended to think it over. “Okay, six.” She rolled her eyes. I threw my hands in the air. “Fifteen, max.”

  “Quit now while you’re not even remotely ahead.”

  “Good idea,” I agreed as I pulled to a stop and dumped us into immediate silence with one turn of the key.

  “Come on,” I called when she didn’t move or say anything. I pulled myself up and out of the car and watched as she did the same, gesturing for her to follow me to the trunk with the crook of a finger.

  Mentally, she didn’t come willingly, but her body wouldn’t let her say no.

  God, I loved the idea that I affected her that strongly.

  “Is this where I have to volunteer my bra as tribute? Because I’ve got bad news.”

  “I know. You’re not wearing one.” We both smiled. “And that’s not even remotely bad news.”

  “Does this mean I have to donate something creepy to your collection? Like teeth?”

  I barked a startled burst of laughter. “There’s no collection,” I told her. “Pinkie swear.”

  “Oh, man,” she muttered as she linked her smallest finger with mine. Mine was double the size of hers. “Now I know you’re serious. Breaking out rule number nine.”

  Rule number nine: No pinkie swears unless you mean it. Of course, I’m paraphrasing here.

  She huffed adorably at the sight of my wink. I ignored the mock frost and popped open the trunk to find all the good stuff still there.

  “A blanket?” she asked as I pulled it out and reached deeper into the dark opening. “And a CD player? Wow. Welcome back to the 90s.”

  The corners of my eyes crinkled as I slammed the heavy metal trunk shut. “Come on.”

  “Oh, I’m coming. Tell me you’ve got some 90s CDs in the car to play on that sucker.”

  “Sorry to disappoint, but it’s the radio or silence.”

  “Or you could serenade me?” she offered.

  “I get it. How you’d think I’d have the voice of an angel, what with my obvious good looks and all-around above-average talent, but trust me, my voice isn’t performance worthy.”

  “Are you actually admitting to being bad at something? Do you f
eel okay?” she teased.

  “It took fifteen years and several video recordings for Kline, Frankie, and Wes to convince me that I was anything less than superior. I mean, it’s so unlike me.”

  “You’re also not top-notch at being modest. Just saying.”

  “Pshh,” I said as I spread the blanket on the ground close to the edge of the water. “Who needs modesty?”

  “Um, most people. Public figures. Polite society.”

  “Girls in cotillion?” I added with a skeptical eye. “Those rules are archaic. The only people who need to be modest are those who feel genetically inclined.”

  “So, not me or you, I guess.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And what am I supposed to be?” she asked as I sat down on the blanket and leaned back onto my elbows. It was a completely different perspective to see her from below rather than towering above. I took advantage by surveying the line of her jaw and the curve of her creamy cheek to see which angle I liked better.

  “That’s easy.” She put her hands on her hips and waited for my revolutionary answer. “You. All you’re supposed to be is you.”

  “Am I supposed to be sexy?” she asked with a smirk as she leaned down to turn the radio on. The simple beats of Chris Stapleton’s “Tennessee Whiskey” were just starting to build on the very first station, and she left it to play softly into the night.

  Subtle but sure, she started a sway of her hips, back and forth like a form of hypnosis.

  “Oh, yeah,” I agreed as I watched them move. “Sexy is definitely you.”

  Her eyes lit, a reflection of moonlight making them shine bright across the distance to mine. Like a tree in the breeze, she moved with ease, just barely mimicking the beat of the music but leaving no doubt that she’d fully embraced it.

  She started to move in my direction, up from the outstretched location of my feet to the side of my hip and back again. Her eyes followed mine the whole time, and my heartbeat seemed to build in intensity.