Tapping The Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires #1)

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Tapping The Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires #1) Page 32

by Max Monroe


  No longer broken, his words stitched up that last remaining bit of my heart.

  “Baby, say something.” His voice cracked, desperation highlighting the edges. “Please, say something. Anything. Except for no. Anything but no.”

  God, he looked broken and defeated. I hated it. I didn’t want him to be so sad, so anxious. I wanted him to laugh and smile and be the happy, charming, adorable Kline I had fallen in love with.

  “You broke into my company?” I blurted out, trying to take him—take us—back to that place.

  He paused, eyes searching mine. “Your company?”

  I tilted my head, trying my damnedest to hold back a smile. “You wanted me to sign the contract, right?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I did.” His eyes lit up, mouth quirking up at the corner. “But I want you to sign another contract too.”

  “What?”

  He slid a small, black box from his pocket and went down on one knee.

  My hand covered my mouth. “W-what are you doing?”

  “You know what I’m doing.” He gazed up at me, grinning. “Georgia, you are the only person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I knew it from the second you came barreling into my world with your rap lyrics and swollen lips and cute smiles and beautiful laughter. I knew the night of our first date, when you were buzzing on antihistamine and beatboxing about my huge cock, that you were the only woman I wanted. The only person that could make me happy for the rest of my life.”

  “I beatboxed?”

  His grin grew wider. “Yeah, baby, you fucking beatboxed. It’s one of my fondest memories.”

  My cheeks heated. There was no doubt in my mind, beatboxing took the cake over Masturbation Camp.

  “God, you’re so fucking adorable. I can’t stand it.” He laughed softly, fingers brushing across my cheek. “I can’t let you go. I want you, with me, forever. My heart in your hands and you in my arms, that’s all I’ll ever need.” He repeated the words he’d tattooed across my hip. “I said that then because I meant it, and I still mean it now.”

  Happiness and relief and love, so much love, it bubbled up past my throat and urged tears to spill past my lids. And when I smiled, I tasted the saltiness on my lips.

  He brushed the tears from my cheeks with a soft stroke of his thumb. “Georgia Rose Cummings, will you marry me?”

  I inhaled a hiccupping breath, smiling down at him.

  And then I nodded my head a thousand times.

  I was saying, “Yes, yes, yes,” over and over again as he slid the ring down my finger and pulled me into his arms.

  “I love you,” he whispered into my ear.

  “I love you too…so much.”

  He brushed his lips over mine, kissing me soft and sweet, until his tongue slipped past the seam and danced with mine. His fingers slid into my hair, gripping the strands and tilting my head as he kissed me deeper, stronger, pouring everything he was feeling into that perfect kiss.

  Kline Brooks had just asked me to marry him.

  And I had said yes.

  “Baby, will you beatbox your vows at our wedding?” he teased, face pressed against my neck, lips sucking softly.

  “I want a prenup,” I teased back.

  He leaned back, his eyes meeting mine.

  “See,” I said, unable to stop the smile consuming my face. “I have all of this money now. And I own this awesome business. And I really need to start looking after myself. I don’t think you’re a gold digger, but—”

  He cut me off with another kiss, chuckling against my lips.

  “Does this mean you’re agreeing to it?” I asked, feigning concern. “Because it’s really important to me.”

  “I’ll agree to anything you want as long as I get to keep you forever,” he added, a mischievous smirk taking over his mouth. “But first, before we get into all the legalities of your money, we’ve got some more important things to do.”

  “Wait…you weren’t kidding about signing your business over to me?”

  “Fuck no. It’s yours.”

  “Why would you—but that’s—” I stuttered, jaw dropping. “Kline, that’s ridiculous!”

  “The only thing that’s ridiculous right now is that we’re still standing in this fucking office and not in my bedroom where I can take off that skirt with my mouth.”

  “Oh,” I said, shocked by the sudden change in pace and my body’s quick response to that specific pace. My nipples tightened under my blouse, and I was already throbbing in anticipation between my legs.

  “Baby, don’t get mad, but you’re not going to be able to move fast enough in those heels.”

  “Huh?” I asked two seconds before I was airborne and thrown over Kline’s shoulder.

  “Kline!” I shouted, gripping his arms for balance.

  “Just hold on, Benny,” he said, chuckling, as he strode out of his office. One of his hands held tight to my skirt, keeping me covered and safe from flashing the entire office my ass cheeks.

  “This is so embarrassing!” I shouted as we passed through the door and into the hallway where most of my former coworkers were gawking at us.

  But he didn’t care. He was a man on a mission, solely focused on getting us the hell out of there.

  “Pam! Hold all of my calls! I’ll be busy for the rest of the day!” he called over his shoulder.

  “But I thought I owned the company?” I retorted, laughter spilling from my lips.

  “I mean, hold all of Georgia’s calls! She’ll be too busy ri—”

  I reached out, covering his mouth.

  He laughed against my palm. His finger smashed against the elevator call button, practically breaking the down option.

  He didn’t waste any time, getting us on and off the elevator in what felt like seconds.

  And then we were at his car, Frank opening the door.

  Kline tossed me into the back, moving in beside me and telling his driver to get us to his apartment. He was itching with impatience, adding, “And don’t worry about the cops. Just gun it. I’ll cover the speeding tickets.”

  I loved that he was that anxious to get me alone in his bed. I loved that he was willing to put everything on the line to prove to me he was the man I had originally thought he was. I loved that he had proposed. I loved that he had carried me out of the office like a man possessed.

  I loved him. God, I loved him.

  I was so far gone on this man, I felt drunk from it.

  I moved over to him, straddling his thighs, gripping his shoulders.

  His eyebrows rose, blue eyes twinkling with intrigue.

  “I can’t wait,” I whispered against his lips. “I need you. Right. Now.” My finger found the button for the privacy window, shutting it before Kline could refuse.

  It was just the two of us in the back seat, Frank’s eyes in the rearview mirror no longer visible.

  “Fuck, I’ve missed this.” Kline’s hands found their way to the hem of my skirt, moving it up my thighs and over my hips. “I was afraid we’d never be here again.”

  “I’ve missed this too. I missed you so much.”

  His heady gaze moved up my body until they found mine again. “You’re going to marry me?”

  I nodded.

  “You’re going to move in with me?”

  I nodded again, smiling this time.

  His cock grew hard and strained beneath me.

  “You mean, I get you, every day, for the rest of my life?”

  “Yes,” I said, a giddy laugh bubbling up from my throat.

  “I get live-in Georgia. And beautiful, sleepy Georgia waking up next to me. And singing in the shower Georgia. And dancing around my kitchen Georgia,” he rambled, eyes bright with excitement and adoration. “And I get—”

  I stopped him with my lips, pressing my mouth urgently against his.

  We kissed until we were out of breath, our bodies instinctively moving against one another.

  “Baby,” he moaned into my mouth. “Not here. Not like this. I
want you in our bed.” But he didn’t stop kissing me, his perfect lips never leaving mine.

  Our bed. I smiled, unable to control the love I had for this man.

  He chuckled, pulling back to look at me.

  “What?” I asked, a crazy, ridiculous smile still consuming my face.

  “I love it when you do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Smile while I’m kissing you. It’s like you’re too happy to control it.”

  “I am.” My cheeks burned, the goofy grin still intact.

  He kissed my nose. “It’s like I’m kissing a jack-o’-lantern.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You calling me a pumpkin?”

  “Yes.” His teeth found my bottom lip, tugging gently. “Baby…Georgie…Benny…pumpkin. Mine. All fucking mine.”

  “Oh, no,” I groaned, head falling back in defeat. “Not another nickname.”

  “Get used to it.” He laughed, his tongue soothing the bite. “Remember? I’m Big-dicked Brooks, baby. And I’ll call you whatever I want while I’m driving you crazy with my fingers…my mouth…my cock.”

  And then I was moaning. My eyes rolled back as he kissed down my jaw and sucked at the skin on my neck.

  “God, Kline, I ache. I ache so bad right now,” I whimpered when his hands slid up my thighs, fingers sliding my underwear to the side.

  “Don’t worry, soon-to-be Mrs. Brooks.” I felt his grin against my skin. “It might hurt, but I’ll always make sure it only hurts good.”

  “Wheorgie, we need to go!” I exclaimed, grabbing our bouquets from the table and moving toward the door. We were sitting in the bridal suite, waiting for the ceremony to begin.

  “Pretty sure you shouldn’t be calling me Wheorgie on my wedding day,” she retorted, her eyes still focused on the paper towel her pen was quickly scrawling across.

  I stomped my heel, my flower-filled hand going straight to my hip. “Well, you’re being a bit of a Wheorgie, considering you’re going to be late for your big bridal entrance.”

  She held up one finger. “Hold on, I have to finish these.”

  I walked back over to her, glancing down at what she was writing.

  “For real? You’re writing your vows…like, three minutes before you’re supposed to walk down the aisle?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m writing Kline’s vows.”

  “He’s too lazy to write his own vows?”

  Talk about a broke-ass motherfucker, having his bride write his vows.

  “No, we’re writing each other’s vows.”

  Oh, never mind.

  “God, you guys are so cute that it literally makes me throw up a little in my mouth.”

  “Ew.” She scrunched her nose. “Stop being so gross on my wedding day.”

  Three hard raps on the door startled us both. “Goddammit, Georgie! Get your ass out here. It’s time,” her father shouted from the other side.

  “Just a minute, Dad!” she called back.

  “Ah, shit. You’ve even got Dick mad,” I teased.

  “He’s just mad because I’m marrying the man of his dreams.”

  We both laughed. It was one hundred percent the truth. Dick Cummings was in love with his soon-to-be son-in-law. He thought Kline walked on water. And after Georgia accepted his proposal, we later found out when Kline had asked her dad for his blessing, Dick had responded,

  “Are you sure you want to do that, son? Georgie’s a bit of a ballbuster.”

  Not, “You better protect my baby girl.” Or, “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

  Nope. He had basically given him an out, or tried to keep Kline for himself, however you wanted to look at it.

  “Finished!” She tossed the pen down and stood up, fluffing her dress. “How do I look?” she asked, taking one last glance at herself in the floor length mirror.

  “Like the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.” Because she did. Georgia was absolutely stunning.

  She turned toward me, pointing an accusing finger in my direction. “Don’t start. If you start crying, then I’ll start crying.”

  “I’m not!” My face contorted into that awful expression you get when you’re trying to hold back sobs.

  “Goddammit, Cass!” Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

  The processional music started to filter into the bridal room, and we both looked at each other with Oh, shit! expressions.

  “Georgia! It’s time!” her mother sing-songed from the other side of the door.

  “Am I really getting married today?” she asked, bewildered, taking the bouquet of white lilies from my outstretched hand.

  “Yeah, sweet cheeks, you’re really getting married. My little, virginal best friend is all grown up. Marrying the man of her dad’s dreams.”

  She giggled, flipping me the bird in a way only my best friend could pull off in a wedding dress. It was a beautiful dress—elegant mermaid cut with a small train. And it was simple yet blinged out with tiny clear crystals sewn into the bridal-white material.

  Georgia had found it at a vintage store—big surprise—in Chicago, when we went there for a girls’ weekend. It was Vera Wang, which was all Kline’s doing. He’d made sure she spent a boatload of money on her dress, refusing to let her come back in the house unless she had drained at least several thousand dollars from their bank account.

  Yes, their bank account. Even though she refused to sign his ridiculous contract and was adamant on keeping her new job with the Mavericks, he’d made sure to add her to all of his accounts right after she’d said yes. And he’d done this without the cushion of a prenup.

  If that didn’t tell you he was more than sure she was the one, I didn’t know what would.

  Before we walked out of the bridal suite, I wrapped her up in a tight hug.

  “I’m so happy for you. You deserve all of this happiness and then some.”

  “I love you, Cass.”

  “I love you too. Now, let’s go get you hitched!” I hooted, opening the door.

  The wedding party was small, but it was perfect for them. Wes, Thatch, and Will were Kline’s groomsmen, while Dean and I were Georgia’s bridesmaids.

  I walked down the aisle with Dean and took my place on the opposite side of the groomsmen. I couldn’t help but notice the intrigued yet slightly salacious smile I received from Thatch. I assumed it was my tits’ doing because my cleavage looked pretty damn fantastic in the little black dress Georgia had chosen for me.

  And I didn’t miss how delicious Thatch looked in his tux. I eye-fucked that Jolly Green Giant for a moment, moving from his brown eyes, to the broad shoulders filling out his jacket like they fucking owned the joint, to the noticeable bulge—not, I’m the weirdo with a boner at a wedding bulge, but I’m packing bulge—in his pants, and then back to his mouth.

  Man oh man, those lips looked like they could do things (to my puss-ay).

  Hey, cool your jets. It doesn’t count as wedding inappropriate if it’s in parentheses.

  Seriously, I’d Thatch that.

  The quartet of violins and harps Georgia hired for the ceremony music abruptly stopped. I glanced around, not sure what was happening. This definitely wasn’t on her schedule.

  Kline looked toward the side of the room and nodded at a woman with a guitar. She smiled, adjusted the microphone near her mouth, and started to strum a song that wasn’t the planned “Bridal Chorus.”

  The crowd stood, turning toward the back doors.

  And when they opened, there stood my beautiful best friend, her arm tucked into her father’s, her mouth morphed into the biggest smile I’d ever seen.

  Every wedding I had ever been to, while everyone was watching the bride, I always snuck a glance at the groom. When my eyes found Kline’s face, my heart damn near skipped a beat. Though a sight far more masculine, his smile mimicked Georgia’s in all the ways that counted. He looked like a man who had just received everything he’d ever wanted. And it was obvious that everything was Georgia, walking straight to
ward him without looking back.

  I had never seen a man look so in love.

  The woman started to sing, softly playing her guitar, and that’s when I put the pieces together. It was a slowed down, acoustic version of “Some Kind of Wonderful.”

  Their song. The song Georgia would always associate with Kline. And he’d done it, knowing how much that song meant to her, to them. Somehow, that sneaky bastard had arranged it on the sly.

  It took every ounce of strength for me not to start crying. I was overwhelmed by them. My best friend and the man who’d swept her off her feet. They were happy. They were in love. And God, they were so perfect for each other. The world wouldn’t be right if they weren’t together.

  As Georgia got closer, she was mouthing the words to the song, gazing at Kline.

  And when she reached him, Dick hugged them both, and Kline pulled her into his arms. She whispered something into his ear and he nodded, his face pressed against her neck. And then he leaned back, staring down at his bride, and said, “You’re so beautiful.”

  I’m pretty sure every woman in attendance swooned. I sure as hell did.

  They stood before the minister, hand in hand, ready to profess their love and the rest of their lives to one another.

  The minister greeted the attendants and proceeded to say nice, beautiful things about the happy couple. He was actually one of Dick’s closest friends, which was probably a good thing, considering most of the people at this wedding tended to toss out the F-word more often than not.

  And when the minister announced it was time for the vows, Dick cheered, “Hell yeah! Let’s do this!”

  See what I mean? Good thing he knew the kind of room full of morons he was walking into.

  Kline pulled a neatly folded piece of white paper from his inside jacket pocket while Georgia slid the balled up paper towel out of her cleavage.

  They handed each other their vows.

  He glanced down at his tattered version and started laughing. “You finished these about two minutes before you walked down the aisle, didn’t you, Benny?”

  “I’ll never tell,” she said through a giggle.

  He chuckled again. “God, I love you.”

 

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