Banking the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 2)

I hit my knees again and spread her legs one at a time, a foot on each of the surrounding ledges, until she was wide open and ready for me.

Her eyes squeezed shut tighter. I kissed the inside of both of her thighs. “I’ll take care of you,” I promised. “You just keep your eyes closed until right before you come. I’ll do the rest.”

Breathing her in, I put my mouth back to her pussy and worked. Around the rim, I teased her with the tip of my tongue before moving up to suck on her clit and filling her with two fingers. She gasped at the intrusion and reached for the concrete at her hips.

I groaned as her excitement coated my lips and spilled to the back of my tongue.

Goddamn, she tastes good.

“Oh…My…God,” she breathed as I pushed her higher and higher, chasing her orgasm hard and fast, and nearly coming in my pants from the fucking excitement of her pussy’s eagerness to please.

“I’m gonna…I’m gonna,” she called, and I pulled my mouth away just long enough to remind her to open her eyes.

She gasped loudly, the sight of the city before her mingling her fear and pleasure together into one heady mix of perfection, and her nipples pebbled through the thin fabric of her tank top.

Definitely no bra. She did it on purpose now just to drive me crazy; I knew she did.

I stayed there and drank all of her in, careful not to waste a drop or miss one moment of her face. When it all became too much, her eyes shut again and her head fell back in the most perfect display of everything I’d ever wanted.

She shook as I pulled her into my arms and tucked her face into my neck.

“How’d I do, honey?”

Her arms tightened around me reflexively.

“You did a good job,” she told me. “Of showing my pussy to the top fifty floors of the Empire State Building.”

I laughed and pressed my lips to hers.

“Trust me, baby. They enjoyed the view.”





I cradled my cell phone between the crook of my neck and shoulder in order to grab a mint out of my bag. These Wintergreen Lifesavers were like crack.

“Will you have time to stop by the apartment and feed Phil before your meeting this afternoon?” I asked as I walked down 28th Street, weaving in and out of lunchtime pedestrian traffic. “I’d do it, but I’m supposed to meet Georgie and Will for lunch, and then I have to stop by ESPN’s offices to drop off some files.”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem,” Thatch responded in my ear, and the sound of papers shuffling filled the receiver.

“Boy, you’re awfully accommodating today,” I teased. “Does it have anything to do with this morning?”

“I’ll do pretty much anything you ask if you wake me up like that every morning.”

I grinned. “Sometimes I forget how happy blow jobs make you.”

“First of all, rule number sixty, don’t ever forget that. And secondly, your blow jobs make me happy,” he clarified.

“You don’t want blow jobs from anyone else?” I tested. I knew the answer he better fucking say.

“No,” he responded quickly. “Once you’ve experienced a Dyson, no other brands come close to cleaning the carpets anymore.”

I grinned. “What about my tits?”

“Those too.”

“My pussy?”

“You’re just fishing for compliments now, but I’ll play along,” he said with an amused tone. “Yes, luscious Cassie, your pussy gets my dick hard.”

“What about my ass?”

“Are you extending an offer? Because I’ll drop everything I’m doing right now to sign on the dotted line that leads to claiming your ass.”

Good try, Thatcher, but it’s not going to happen. A lady has to keep one get out of jail free card in the tank.

I laughed and remembered the other reason for the phone call. “Stop distracting me. I actually called you for a reason.”

“What else can I do for you, honey?”

“Well, I have a bit of surprise,” I announced as I crossed 5th Avenue. “Are you getting excited?”

“No,” he responded in a flat tone. Two long drags of a cab horn punctuated the sentiment.

“Well, that’s really fucking ungrateful of you.”

He showed no signs of remorse. “The last time you got me a surprise, I ended up with a pig and the city of New York thinking I have chronic anxiety.”

I laughed. “But you love Phil!”

“Yeah, now, I do,” he answered. “He’s grown on me. But initially, no. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of a barnyard animal sleeping in the corner of my bedroom.”

“Well, this is even more exciting than Phil,” I announced. My voice was ecstatic over the idea of getting a rise out of him again. It was literally one of my favorite things. And after his little “fear of heights” test last week, I was really itching to one-up him again. Although, it should be noted, that test had gifted me with the most powerful orgasm of my entire life.

But those were just minor details, right?

“Get ready, Thatcher, because guess what? You’re going to be a Big Brother!”

“Huh?”

“A Big Brother!” I repeated.

“What are you talking about?”