Banking the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 2)

I rested my head against the headboard and groaned. “I’m just so horny right now. I feel like I will go crazy if I don’t come in the next five minutes. Do you want to shoulder that, Thatch? Knowing you’re the one who pushed me over the edge.”


He glanced over at me and smirked. “We’ve already established you’re crazy, honey. Beautiful but crazy. Sexy as fuck but crazy.”

“You love my crazy.”

“Obviously. I let you break my dick.”

“I did not break your dick,” I said, even though my eyes were now fixated on his crotch. Did I break his dick? I started to wonder if we needed to take him to the hospital.

He snorted. “Yeah, honey, you did.”

“What if I suck on you for a little bit?”

He shut his eyes again and seemed content to fall back asleep. “My cock needs a break. You could shove your tits in my face, and I wouldn’t care at this point.”

Why didn’t I think of that? He could never resist my boobs.

He peeked out of one eye and added, “That’s not a challenge.”

I groaned again. “You’re turning into an old man.”

“You weren’t saying that last night when you were begging me to put my mouth on you.”

“Yes, please. Do that.”

Both of his eyes opened to meet my unsatisfied and sex-consumed gaze. “You’re that riled, honey?”

I nodded. “I need to get off. So fucking bad.”

He moved over top of me and caged me in with his thick arms. “You want my mouth?”

“Yes.”

His fingers brushed aside the strap of my tank top as his tongue licked a path from my shoulder to my neck. “You need to come?” he breathed into my ear.

My nipples hardened. “More than I need to breathe.”

His mouth sucked at my neck, hitting that spot below my ear that had moans slipping past my lips. He slid his fingers into my hair and tilted my head to give him more room. And God, he used that extra space—his lips and tongue, sucking and licking along my skin, moving down to my shoulder and then back up again.

My back arched and my hips lifted, seeking relief from the pulsing ache building below my belly. “Please,” I begged. I needed more, I needed his mouth, his lips, his hands, his cock. I needed him on me, in me, all fucking over me. I wanted everything, and I wanted it all at the same time.

My nails found their way into the smooth skin of his back, leaving their mark and showing him just how desperate I was for what he had to give.

He kissed a wet, openmouthed path down my throat and between my breasts as his body slid down mine. His large hands slipped my tank down until I was bared for his heady gaze.

“Christ.” He groaned when his eyes took in my hard nipples and heaving chest.

His tongue licked a hot trail across my breast until he sucked me into his mouth.

“These fucking perfect tits were made for my big fucking hands. Fuck, Cass. I shouldn’t be hard right now, but I am. I’m so fucking hard for you.” He punctuated that statement by grinding against me until I moaned.

When those words passed his lips, I was pretty sure angels started singing.

“Yes, please. I need it, baby.”

“Not yet.”

His hands continued to grip my breasts, and his thumbs brushed across my nipples as his mouth moved down my belly. He licked from one hip bone to the next until he descended farther and pressed his warm mouth against my clit. He sucked on me through my panties, and my eyes rolled back.

“You’re soaked. I need to lick you clean before I slide my cock inside this perfect pussy.”

In two quick pulls, he tore my underwear off my body and didn’t waste a second after. He sucked and ate at my pussy until my legs started to shake and I gripped his hair with my fingers.

“How do you want it, honey? My mouth or my cock?”

“If you don’t fuck me right now I swear—”

He had his cock out and his hands gripping my thighs before I could finish. He thrust inside me between one panting breath and the next.

I moaned, my voice echoing inside of the silent apartment.

“More?” He pushed a little deeper.

“Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, Cass.” He damn near growled. “You always feel so good.”




Four hours and a combined four orgasms later—three for me and one for Thatch—we were riding up the elevator toward the owner’s suite at Paul Howard Stadium, the home of the New York Mavericks.

I was fidgety with nervous excitement, practically bouncing from foot to foot.

Thatch smirked and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, tucking me into his side. “Don’t worry, honey. He’s healthy. He’s in the best shape of his life. Sean’s going to do great.”

I nodded. “I know, but I can’t stop feeling so nervous. I mean, it’s my baby brother’s first professional football game.”

“Yeah, and he’s about to show the Mavericks that drafting him was the best decision they ever made.”

The elevator dinged when we reached the top level, and Thatch led me out with a hand softly pressed to my lower back.

I looked up into his confident gaze and grinned. “You’re right. Sean is going to kick some serious ass today.”

“I’m always right, honey. We’ve established this numerous times.”