by Max Monroe
“I love you too, sweetheart,” Thatch whispered. Cassie laughed and Dean swooned, popping up on his toes to put his lips to Thatch’s bearded cheek.
I watched him weave through the crowd and out the door, winking and waving at other patrons as he went, even though they clearly had not one fucking clue who he was. Once he was out of sight, we gave the waitress our drink orders and relaxed into comfortable conversation about the trip and Georgia’s pregnancy and the fact that Cassie thought Wes and I should have a wedding reception when we got back to New York.
“I have a feeling you want the wedding reception because of open bar and filet mignon,” I said on a laugh.
“That might be part of it.” Cassie grinned. “But how am I supposed to give you your gift if you don’t have a wedding reception?”
Wes chuckled and held up both hands in defense of her imaginary gift. A dildo. A third for the night. Handcuffs and a ball gag. You never really knew what you were going to get when it came to Cassie Phillips-now-Kelly. “You don’t need to get us anything, Cass.”
His tone said, “Seriously, don’t get us anything.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” she continued. “Because my gift to you guys would be too big to bring to the reception.”
“Too big?” Thatch questioned skeptically, his eyes narrowing as he wrapped his arm around the back of her chair and leaned threateningly into her. “What the fuck are we buying them? A horse?”
Unfazed, she leaned down and pulled papers from her purse and slid them across the table to Wes and me. I glanced down at the papers to find realty listings for homes in New Jersey. In Kline and Georgia’s neighborhood—close to the stadium.
“What are these for?” I asked shakily, even though I already knew. I couldn’t fucking believe it, but I knew.
Cassie smiled. “We’ve found three houses that we think the three of you—and maybe more—will be happy in. But we want you to pick the one you love the most.”
“We?” Thatch chimed in. “Who’s we?”
“Me and you,” she answered nonchalantly. “We’re giving them their dream home for their wedding present.”
“What?” Thatch shouted in response. “We’re buying that prick a house?”
She narrowed her eyes. “We’re buying Wes and Winnie a house for their wedding present.”
“I knew something was up when you were browsing realty listings. I fucking knew it,” he muttered. “Who’s paying for the house, Crazy?”
“Oh, shut up.” She waved him off. “You have enough money. And it’s not about the money, Thatcher. It’s about the thought. And this is what friends do for each other, for fuck’s sake.”
“Put us down for a new family car,” Kline interjected, and once again, as happened all too often, Thatch flipped him off without even looking away from his completely cracked wife.
“Pretty sure Wes and Kline didn’t buy us a house when we got married,” Thatch retorted. “I mean, what the fuck, honey? Have you completely lost it?”
“Oh, come on, you’re a shitty friend, Thatcher,” Cassie responded. “A real pain in the goddamn ass. We have to make up for that somehow.”
Kline and Georgia looked at each other and at us and back to each other, and then it was all over. He started chuckling and she started giggling, and eventually, the amusement worked its way over to Wes and me, and we were doing the same.
“Cass,” I said once I could catch my breath. “We love you, and we appreciate the gesture. I mean, it is so thoughtful.”
“Really fucking thoughtful,” Wes agreed.
“But there is no way we can let you buy us a house,” I went on.
“Yeah, sweetheart,” Wes added with a genuine smile. “We really can’t let you do that.”
“But…” Cassie started to refute, and Thatch wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulders and whispered something in her ear. She looked up at him with a devilish grin. “You promise?”
Thatch nodded.
“No bullshit?”
He shook his head and grinned.
“Well, okay, then,” she said and slapped her hands down onto the table and stood. “We’re going to call it a night. And we’ll buy you guys a gravy boat or a Crock-Pot or something for your wedding gift. Maybe a salad spinner. You look like salad people. Sound good?”
“Wait!” Georgia protested. “You guys are leaving dinner before dinner?”
“Yep,” Cassie said and slung her purse over her shoulder. “Since Melinda is watching both Lexi and Ace tonight, we’re going to take full advantage of it before we head home in the morning. Who knows? Maybe we’ll take a page from your and Kline’s book and go full-on anal tonight.”
“Cassie!” Georgia’s eyes went wide, and Kline choked on a laugh—or bread. It was really one or the other. All I knew for sure was that he was motherfucking choking for real.
Thatch slapped his meaty hand on Kline’s back until he coughed his way to clean air.
Georgia covered her face with both hands. “Kline, make them stop. Make them stop looking at me.”
Finally safe from asphyxiation, he grinned and stood up from the table, picked his wife up out of her seat, and cradled her in his arms like a baby. She reached behind her legs to prevent a full-on Britney Spears-esque pussy shot.
“Kline!” she shrieked. “What are you doing?”
“Just saving my Benny from unwelcome anal.”
Probably by taking her upstairs for the welcome kind.
“Think we should go take advantage of a free night too?” Wes whispered in my ear, and a tingle shot down my spine.
My husband, our friends. All of it was perfect. “Yes, please.”
And that was that. Everyone stood up and dug in pockets and threw bills on the table in a haphazard pile.
“Is everyone really leaving dinner before actually eating dinner? Are we a bunch of horny bastards?” Cassie asked comically, grabbing a big handful of her husband’s ass as she did.
“Yep and yep,” Georgia admitted as Kline set her on her feet.
Cassie squealed as Thatch started to drag her out of the restaurant, high-heeled feet fluttering to keep up, and then abruptly pulled him to a stop that made us all run right into the back of one another like a crashing train.
“Hey!”
“Jesus,” Wes muttered from behind me.
“Can we at least group hug it out before we go?” Cassie asked, starting to pout.
Already nodding, I grabbed Wes’s hand and pulled him closer into the huddle. “Let’s hug it out, ladies,” I said and held out both of my arms. Georgia, Cassie, and I hugged each other tightly. Thatch was the first to give up all pretense, wrapping his giant arms around the entire group of us, and Kline and Wes joined in before long.
All six of us stood there in the middle of the resort’s fanciest restaurant in one giant group hug.
Yeah, no doubt we probably looked like a bunch of weirdos, but I had to admit it felt good. Leaning on each other, literally, there wasn’t one of us who doubted we’d be able to do it forever—for whatever we needed.
“See you guys later,” Kline muttered, pulling back from the group and taking Georgia with him.
“You bet your sweet ass, you will,” Thatch remarked.
Wes couldn’t help himself. “He actually didn’t mean you. We’re hoping to ditch you.”
Thatch smiled wide. “Never.”
Always up for the challenge of bringing it home, the last thing that was said before we officially parted ways for the night came straight from Cassie’s lips. “I hope everyone in this restaurant thinks we’re leaving dinner early for a gang bang.”
Okay. It was the last thing until Thatch raised an eyebrow in intrigue.
“No!” we all shouted at once.
“Think about it,” he pushed as we started to walk away. “Billionaire Bad Boners: A Pornographic Trilogy.”
I bit my lip to contain my laugh as Wes’s hand settled into the small of my back.
“Sh
ut up, Thatcher,” Cassie advised.
I could hear his smile from across the room. “Okay, Crazy. I’ll shut up. For now.”
THE END
Loved the Billionaire Bad Boys Series and ready for more from Max Monroe?
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And you really don’t want to miss what’s next from Max Monroe.
Even though we just said goodbye to Kline, Thatch, Wes and the girls, we have plenty more heading your way.
Including, but definitely not limited to, an insider’s view into some of our favorite New York Mavericks.
And there’s no need to be sad about saying goodbye to Big-dick and Supercock and the rest of the Billionaire Bad Boys gang; you’ll be seeing lots of appearances by your favorite characters in future books.
We’re certain we’ll never be able to get rid of Thatch. He’s like one of those bad, annoying, itchy rashes that never go away!
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Seeing as this is the last book in the Billionaire Bad Boys series, we’re going to handle our THANK YOUS a little differently. We’ve never really been conventional anyway, so this shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise. :)
Monroe: I can’t believe the series is over.
Max: I can’t believe I’ll finally get to sleep without Thatch trying to commandeer my dreams.
Monroe: You have dreams about Thatch?
Thatch: You dream about me, Max?
Max: What the hell? How’d you get in here? This is the acknowledgements. The book is done. The series is over. Why. Are. You. Here?
Thatch: [raises a pointed brow] Probably because I’m like a bad, annoying, itchy rash that will never go away…
Monroe: I don’t even feel bad for putting that in there. The fact that you’re here, in the middle of the acknowledgements, is proof that you are in fact like a bad rash.
Max: More like an STD…
Monroe: Exactly! Like herpes. Once you get it, you have it for life.
Thatch: You’re keeping me for life? Aww…you two are the sweetest.
Monroe: How do we make him go away?
Max: I have no idea.
Cassie: There’s really no way to get rid of him. Trust me, I know from experience.
Monroe: [sighs] You too?
Cassie: [grins] Of course, I’m here, too.
Max: [looks at Monroe] You have dreams about Cassie, don’t you?
Monroe: I wish I could say no to that question.
Max: Do you think we’re currently dreaming? Like, maybe, we’re not even writing the acknowledgements right now… maybe we’re just dreaming about writing the acknowledgements…
Monroe: Like the inception of acknowledgment writing?
Max: Yeah. Exactly like that. Or, these characters have driven us to the point of insanity.
Monroe: [nods] It’s honestly a toss up which situation is reality at this point.
Max: Do you think they serve wine in psych wards?
Monroe: I hope so.
Max: Me too.
Monroe: Do you think they serve THANK YOUs in psych wards?
Max: Probably not.
Monroe: Should we just go ahead and say our THANK YOUs now? I mean, just in case this isn’t a dream and we’re not in fact sitting in padded rooms…
Max: Probably a good idea.
Monroe: THANK YOU!
Max: That’s it? Just one blanket ‘thank you’?
Monroe: THANK YOU TO OUR READERS! YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST! YOUR LOVE AND SUPPORT MEANS THE WORLD TO US!
Max: That’s better. But I honestly think you could avoid screaming it.
Monroe: [whispers] Thank you to our beautiful editor Lisa. You are the light of our life, the fire in our loins—
Max: I mean, say it loud enough for them to actually hear it. And seriously? Fire in our loins? She doesn’t cause our yeast infections. She makes our books clean and pretty.
Monroe: Hey, don’t judge. I might be writing this from a padded room. I’m not exactly in a sane state of mind. Anyway, we really really love Lisa. She might as well be the fire in our loins at this point.
Max: [shakes head] Nope. Still doesn’t work. I’m honestly wondering if that statement just made this the last book she’ll ever edit for us.
Monroe: Sorry if I made it awkward, Lisa!
Max: How about we just try to get through these thank yous without anymore weird shit?
Cassie: Good idea.
Thatch: Personally, I was a fan of the fire in our loins.
Monroe: [sighs] Yeah, let’s get through these before the acknowledgements end in Cassie offering breastfeeding services to our readers.
Max: Good idea.
Max: Thank you to our agent Amy! We need you! We love you! Don’t leave us!
Monroe: Thank you to our cover designer Sommer! You are so pretty! And we love you so much!
Max: Thank you to our OGs! You ladies are amazing! We love you!
Monroe: Thank you to the CLYs! #CampLoveYourself4eva
Max: Thank you to our Counselor Feathers! We don’t know what we’d do without you ladies! You. Are. The. Best!
Monroe: THANK YOU for reading. That goes for anyone who’s bought a copy, read an ARC, helped us beta, edited, or found time in their busy schedule just to make sure we didn’t completely fuck everything up by missing our deadline. Thank you for supporting us, for talking about our books, and for just being so unbelievably loving and supportive of our characters. You’ve made this our MOST favorite adventure thus far.
Max: And THANK YOU to every blogger who has read, reviewed, posted, shared, and supported us. Your enthusiasm, support, and hard work does not go unnoticed. We wish we could send you your very own Billionaire Bad Boy as thanks. We can’t. We checked with UPS and they said no. Also, there’s no way in hell we could find a box big enough to fit Thatch’s big head in and Kline is too fucking smart to trick into something like illegal transportation of a fictional character.
Monroe: And finally, THANK YOU to the people who love us. Thank you for all of your patience and understanding and unwavering support. We couldn’t do any of this without you. You make life grand and we love you so much.
Max: Is it time to go to the Bahamas?
Monroe: Hell yes!
Max: Think anyone will notice if we’re gone for six months?
Cassie: Ohhh, we love the Bahamas! Can we go again, Thatch?
Thatch: I’m game, honey.
Max: Never mind.
Monroe: Yeah. Never mind. Let’s just start the next book.
Max: Yes. Something completely different.
Monroe: Without any characters from the Billionaire Bad Boys Series.
Thatch & Cassie: Hey!
Max: [ignoring them] You know, I think we should revisit that one book we were talking about.
Monroe: [eyes light up] The one with the really sexy…
Max: [nods] Yep. That’s the one.
Monroe: Let’s do it.
Thatch: [watches Max & Monroe leave] Wait…where are you going?
Cassie: I think they just up and left us, T.
Thatch: [smirks] Yeah…that ain’t happenin’, Crazy. Max & Monroe are stuck with us forever.
Cassie: Forever? How the fuck are we going to manage that?
Thatch: [winks] Don’t worry, honey. I’ve got some pl
ans…