Banking the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 2)

Loving Thatch also made me really horny. Like I needed to bone all day long.

Over the past few weeks, all I had thought about was sex with Thatch and blowing Thatch and Thatch going down on me and Thatch naked in the shower and Thatch spanking me and me spanking Thatch…

It was a never-ending list of porny thoughts. I wondered if my selfishness had filtered from my heart to my puss-ay. And to be honest, she was a bit out of control. But man, oh man, once she expressed her need to get laid, she was fucking merciless.

Which probably explained why I set our mugs on the nightstand and crawled into bed beside a sound asleep Thatch with the intent of waking him up for a morning bang.

The sheet barely covered his huge frame, and soft snores fell from his lips. My greedy eyes took in his body with the soundtrack of my pussy shouting her approval in the background. I ogled his trim hips, his sexy V muscle, his defined abs, and as I moved my eyes up his body and caught sight of his tattoos and the shimmer of his piercing, my nipples got hard.

I wanted to eat him with a spoon.

Scratch that, I didn’t need a spoon when I had two hands and my mouth.

And me, my pussy purred. Fuck, she was demanding. If I wasn’t so horned up, I would’ve considered having a come to Jesus talk with her.



I’m aware that referring to Jesus in the same sentence as my pussy is probably frowned upon by the majority of the population. But they don’t have to live with her.

I do.

And fuck, she is bossy, and I’m starting to wonder if she is on a one-pussy mission to get us pregnant, even though she knows we’re on the pill.

Trust me, she needs Jesus.

And possibly a tranquilizer with a side of exorcism.



I ran my hand across the smooth skin of his chest and kissed up his neck until I reached his earlobe where I bit down gently and tugged a few times. “Thatch,” I whispered. “Wake up.”

“No,” he said without opening his eyes.

“Baby, I—”

“No,” he repeated before I could finish.

“But—”

“No, Cass,” he refuted. “I think you actually broke my dick. We’ve fucked no less than ten times in the past twenty-four hours. It’s physically impossible for me to get hard right now. It’s just a prop at this point.”

God, his voice sounded so fucking hot all raspy and thick with sleep.

“But what if I—”

“You have literally fucked me dry. I really hope you’re okay with adoption, honey, because I’m ninety-nine percent sure my balls are empty.”

I grinned into the crook of his neck. “You want to have babies with me?”

“I feel like this is a trick question. Last time I told you I wanted to see you pregnant with my kid, you slapped my dick. Not that it would matter at this point. I’m numb from the waist down.”

I sat back on my heels and stared down at his handsome face. His eyes were still closed, but a small smile rested on his lips. I pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I swear, it’s not a trick question, baby.”

He chuckled softly. “If it isn’t a trick question, then it’s you trying to goad me into sex. I know your game, Crazy. And we both know you’re still on the pill, so it’s a moot point anyway.”

I sighed in annoyance. Damn him for being so smart. Even though he couldn’t see it, I flipped him off and then rested my back against the headboard in defeat. I had thought the whole baby thing would’ve helped plead my “let’s bone” case because, despite the fact that we had yet to get married, Thatch had been bringing up the whole “let’s have kids” conversation more and more these days. If he didn’t have a giant snake tucked inside his pants, I’d probably wonder if he was a woman.

His biological cock is definitely ticking. Wait. Clock. Not cock.

But seriously, his cock. His perfect, long, thick cock. I want it so fucking bad.

I sighed again and crossed my arms over my chest. Was it really too much to ask for a little morning sex, even though I hadn’t let him go to bed until two in the morning because after our first night fuck session, I had demanded a second time and a third time and then a fourth time before bed? I didn’t think so.

He sensed my annoyance and finally opened his eyes, meeting my frustrated gaze. “Honey, I’m not saying no because I don’t want you. I want you all the fucking time. I’m literally saying no because I can’t physically get it up.” He lifted up the sheet and gestured down to his boxers with a nod of his head. “You’ve literally fucked my morning wood away. And that’s saying something considering every morning for the last twenty-plus years, I’ve woken up with a hard-on.”

He was right. His boner wasn’t giving me his usual hello, and that was very unlike him. He always greeted me in the morning.