Banking the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 2)

I nodded. “Yeah.”


I pushed up and off the bed and stalked down the hall, grabbing my suit jacket from the back of the couch and throwing it on. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I picked up my wallet, keys, and phone and headed for the door.

Feet pounded behind me, but I didn’t bother to turn at the sound. She was everything no serious man should want—selfish, fucking crazy, and miles away from wanting a commitment. But when I thought about the past week with her, I couldn’t seem to convince myself I didn’t want it. And that was fucking dangerous.

“Thatch!” she yelled from the mouth of the hallway when I reached for the doorknob.

I looked over my shoulder in question, but I kept my body to the door.

“I just…I’m sorry.”

Her words hit me right in the chest. I hadn’t been expecting an unashamed, unmasked apology. My body turned toward her on its own.

“What are you sorry for?” I pushed, and my eyes took in the fact that she’d managed to throw on a pair of tiny shorts and a tank-top before leaving my bedroom.

She avoided the question. “I’ve never done that to anyone twice.”

I forced a dry chuckle, before turning back toward the door. “Great. I guess I’m just special.”

“Thatch.”

I turned once more and leaned my back into the door on an exhale. “What, Cass? You’re forgiven, okay? Neither of us owes the other anything in this scenario, and you know it just as well as I do.”

I didn’t want to be the one to give in, but this was turning into something I had never expected. I didn’t know how much one-sided interest I could take.

Her face shifted in a way I didn’t like, so I looked to the floor.

I’d never seen her coming.

At a dead run, she jumped up to wrap her arms around my neck and sealed her lips to mine. They tasted like regret and Cassie, and her smell enveloped me on a delay.

Hands at her ass, I lifted her higher and opened my mouth to her, and she didn’t squander the opportunity. Light licks tickled the tip of my tongue, and she yanked at my hair. I tried to find my bearings, figure out what was happening, but the feel of her body pressed to mine made it pretty much impossible.

She pushed herself closer, and I pulled at her hips. I needed more, and after a long night thinking about nothing but her, my body refused to accept any other answer.

I stroked her face with my thumbs as I forced our tongues to her mouth. Control was mine this time around, and I’d be damned if it ended in anything other than satisfaction.

Her legs tightened around my waist as I slid my hands down her sides, pausing at her perfect tits to slide my thumbs under their weight.

She moaned in my mouth, and that was all the incentive my feet needed to move.

Heading straight for the bedroom, I navigated to my hallway blindly, shoving my hands into the bottoms of her pajamas and kneading at the naked skin of her ass. She wore no underwear underneath.

“Fuck,” I breathed as one hand traced the crack of her ass all the way to her pussy. She was wet and wild and bucked at the intrusion of one of my thick fingers.

My tie came over my head with a few solid yanks from her, and she worked at the buttons of my shirt, nibbling at the skin as she exposed it.

Each pinch of her teeth made my already hard dick harder. Forcing her up when my shins hit the comforter, I unwrapped her legs and stood her up on the edge of the bed in front of me. She was breathing hard as I pulled her shorts down roughly and shoved up her shirt to put my mouth to her tit. Her legs shook as I released her nipple with a pop, and I cut her legs right out from under her with a yank.

“Holy shit!” she yelled as her back hit the bed with a bounce.

Up and over, I flipped her on a roll, yanked her hips to mine and forced her knees into the bed. When her pussy glistened at me from between the cheeks of her ass, I reddened the skin with one sharp slap.

She yelped and shoved her ass back at me harder. My blood pounded.

“Go ahead, baby. Fall asleep on me now,” I taunted. “I dare you.”





Thatch kneeled on the bed while I straddled his thighs. He had one arm wrapped around my waist, while the other skimmed up my back and into the messy locks at the nape of my neck. Soft moans fell from my lips with each upward thrust of his hips.

“Come with me,” he demanded as his heady gaze stayed locked with mine.

Two bouts of giving him the Come Coma, and he wasn’t taking no for an answer this time. We’d been at it for a while, but I had no fucking concept of time. Thatch ensured I couldn’t focus on anything but him, holding my eyes with an intensity I’d never experienced.