Banking Her (A Billionaire Bad Boys Novella)(36)

When his warm gaze met my eyes, I had to swallow a dreamy, content sigh.

He smiled. “I know it’s only been two days, but God, I missed you.”

“I would’ve thought you were too busy coming up with lies to find the brainpower to actually miss me.”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Then, what was it like? Because, honestly, even though I know you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize what we have, I can’t deny I’ve had a few awful thoughts cross my mind.”

But who wouldn’t? Being lied to wasn’t one of those things that encouraged confidence and contentment. If anything, it did the complete opposite and left you feeling vulnerable and uncertain.

“I’m a little afraid to tell you the truth.”

I scrunched my eyebrows together. “Well, now I’m a little afraid for the truth too.”

“Cass, honey, I love you. This isn’t about anything besides that, so put those outrageous thoughts out of your mind.”

“Give me a reason to put them out of my mind.”

A nervous smile crested his lips. “You’re going to think I’m insane when I tell you this.”

I quirked a brow. “What’s new?”

“I’ve been following you,” he blurted out, and I blinked. “I’ve been following you around because I just can’t not know that you and our baby are okay. I’m literally driving myself crazy over the idea that something could happen to you both, and I’d never forgive myself if I wasn’t there. So, yeah, I’ve been following you like a creepy bastard.” He looked down and muttered to himself, but I couldn’t make out the words. Something about jaywalking, maybe.

“So, you followed me to Phoenix to make sure we’re okay?”

He nodded. Grimaced a little.

“And Seattle…and San Diego…and well, pretty much every single place you’ve traveled to since we found out you’re pregnant.”

My jaw dropped in surprise. “You’ve been stalking me?”

“I know,” he said and gripped my hips tighter as if he was afraid I would jet out of the room. “I’ve reached psychopath levels of crazy here, but I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t want to suffocate you with my neuroses, so I just kind of took it upon myself to keep an eye on you guys from the sidelines without standing in your way.”

“You’ve been stalking me this whole time?”

“Yes.” He buried his face in my stomach. “Don’t leave me. I promise I’ll get this under control. I swear to God, this is the last trip I’ll take.”

I lifted up his chin with my fingers until his gaze met mine. “You are a fluffing idiot.”

“I know,” he agreed, looking almost despondent—it didn’t look at all right on his face.

“That is by far the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

His eyes went wide in surprise. “You’re not mad?”

I shook my head, and a few tears escaped from my eyes and slipped down my cheeks. He loved me so much he was losing his mind.

God, this was the best thing I’d ever heard.

“I’m the complete opposite of mad. I feel like I just fell in love with you all over again.”

I pushed him down onto the bed and straddled his hips and didn’t waste another second, crashing my lips to his. I kissed him hard and deep and poured everything I had into that kiss. This man, my man, had been stalking me for nearly two months, and hell if it wasn’t the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me.

“Fuck, Cass.” He groaned against my lips as his big hands slid down my waist and grabbed my ass, pulling my hips toward his. His dick felt like it could hammer nails, and in my mind, I was already plotting out how I could melt myself down and fashion myself into the shape of one. It might be weird, but at least I’d be skinny.

As I kissed him, I whispered against his lips, “I have something to confess, too.”

“Something? What something?” he asked, slightly distracted by testing the weight of my tits in each hand like an actual scale.

“I lied to the bellhop when I asked him for your room number,” I admitted as I licked across his jaw. He groaned and leaned forward, nuzzling my breasts like pillows. Or maybe he thought he could make the fabric of my shirt disappear by scrubbing it off with his face. “I think he might think you’re a famous porn star who had to quit the industry because you’re waiting on a penis transplant.”

He leaned back and stared up at me. “He might think that?”

I shrugged. “Okay, so he definitely thinks that.”

“And why does he think that?”