Banking the Billionaire (Billionaire Bad Boys, #2)(34)

I opened the door and scooted through before leaning against it when I  caught sight of Cassie's completely bare back. A bare back usually meant  a bare front, and I couldn't wait for the moment when she turned  around.

"I know you're back there, Thatcher," she called without turning around  as she lifted a foot up onto the bed and started smoothing lotion onto  her thigh.

"I wasn't trying to hide it, Cassie."

I shoved off the door and moved forward when she didn't say anything  else, pressing my hips to her ass and squeezing the bare skin at the  bottom of her stomach.

"You have the sexiest fucking body," I breathed into the crook of her neck. She shivered.         

     



 

"We don't have time for sex right now," she told me, pulling away from  my lips and leaning forward. She pressed her ass into my dick, and her  tits swung out in front of her just enough that I caught a peek of her  nipples from above. I groaned.

"There's always time for sex."

"Nope." She slapped my hand away as it sought the weight of her breast.

"Does that mean we'll have time for sex later? I really like the sex time."

"We'll see." She awarded me with a smile as she turned in my arms and  pushed her tits to my stomach. "Maybe if you're a real good boyfriend."

I was wondering how long it would take for her to start exchanging that  sentiment now that I had. I had a feeling she was tossing that out there  to test me, challenge me, but it didn't matter. I liked the sound of it  no matter how it came, and I found myself wanting to set her up to use  it even more.

"I can be good. Can you?"

She shook her head, pushed up on her toes, and nipped at the vein in my throat. "Not tonight, baby. I'm too good at being bad."




"How many drinks has she had?" Sean shouted over the crowd noise and music.

I watched as Cassie climbed on the stage and pulled a man in his  seventies up with her. Disco lights strobed, and the beat of the music  made the floor shake under our feet.

"Five," I answered with a smile before taking a sip of my water. I'd  been watching out for her and soaking in all the entertainment she  offered. I, myself, hadn't had a drop, content to get to know Sean and  be the designated driver.

A lot of men would be upset watching, but I didn't get the point. She  was enjoying herself, and I was here to make sure she did it safely. I  certainly never thought she'd be grinding on some old guy, but I never  wanted a woman I could predict.

I was also very rationally aware of the plethora of attention she'd been  getting from young guys, guys she'd actually entertain the idea of  dating, and she hadn't paid a single one any attention. Even in the  throes of her drunken good time, she respected me. That's all I needed. A  wild woman I could trust.

The rare combination had seemed damn near impossible to find until now.

Her phone buzzed in her purse on my shoulder, so I pulled it out and  read the drunken text message thread she had going with an unsuspecting  Kline.



And yes, I said on my shoulder. You should know by now I have very little shame.



Cassie: Get 25% off onesies this Sunday at Carter's by subscribing now. Text NO to opt out of messages.



Kline: NO



Cassie: No baby? No problem! Text YES to subscribe to deals from our sister company, Trojan. Text NO to opt out of messages.



Kline: NO. Take my number off your list!



My eyes went back to my genius girlfriend. I knew Kline was too smart to  let this go on forever without paying someone to hack Verizon, but I  was enjoying it while it lasted.

Sean pulled my attention away from the sway of Cassie's hips as she  bumped and grinded into the older guy and back to him. "I like you for  her."

"Huh?" I asked as though I couldn't hear him over the noise even though I'd heard him just fine. I wanted him to elaborate.

He knew I'd heard, but he smirked and humored me anyway.

"Cassie is a certain kind of girl. She gets bored easily, needs the  thrill of a dance with some fucking grandpa and the freedom to drink  however much she wants. But I usually worry about her while she's doing  it, wondering who's got her back. I like that I won't have to wonder  anymore."

I liked it too.

"You won't," I promised, and he nodded.

Somehow I'd passed Cassie's twenty-one-year-old brother's test. It  wasn't exactly the entrance exam to NASA, but right then, to me, it felt  even better.





My eyes fluttered open as the Oregon sun filtered in through the  windowpanes of my childhood bedroom. The warmth of a large body  enveloping mine had me peeking out of one eye to survey my surroundings.  Thatch was curled around me-one hand holding my boob, while his head  used my chest as a pillow.

His handsome face looked so young, blissfully unaware and deep in sleep.  His dark lashes rested softly against his cheeks as soft breaths puffed  out from his lips. I ran my fingers through the messy strands of his  jet-black hair as I tried to recount last night's events.

One thing was certain; I had definitely danced and drunk my ass off. It  had been an all-in kind of night, and I had forced Sean and Thatch to  close the bar down with me, even demanding Taco Bell on the drive home.  Good thinking, Cassie. That fast food had probably saved me from a  morning of praying to the porcelain gods.         

     



 

Thatch stirred in his sleep. His foggy, dark eyes met mine.

"Good morning," I said with a soft smile.

"Morning, honey," he said in a raspy voice, but he didn't move his head  from my chest. Both of his hands were now holding on to my boobs and  squeezing them playfully. "Mmm," he moaned. "I need to add a new rule.  Number fifty-one. These tits are my pillows."

I laughed and flicked his forehead with my index finger.

"Ow, fuck," he responded through a laugh. "What was that for?"

"I'm about to revoke your rule-making rights. You've made over twelve rules in the past forty-eight hours."

He peeked up at me through sleepy eyes. "Rule number fifty-two. You can never revoke my rule-making rights."

I grinned and decided to add a rule of my own. "Rule number fifty-three.  If one of us has to be the designated driver, it will always be you."

He chuckled. "I'll actually agree to that one."

I quirked a brow in surprise. "Really?"

"I think I have more fun watching you get drunk and wild than I actually do getting blitzed myself."

"That's crazy talk," I refuted. "No one likes being the sober person dealing with a drunken idiot."

"Yeah, but you're an exception. You're my favorite drunken idiot."

A few giggles slipped past my lips, and his smile turned wide and  blinding in response. He rested his chin on my chest and gazed up at me.  His eyes were so endearing-full of zero pretense or judgment-and their  dark depths revealed that every word coming out of his mouth was the  truth.

"You took care of me last night, didn't you?"

He shrugged. "I kept an eye on things, but I mostly just sat back,  chatted with Sean, and let you do your thing. Did you have fun last  night?"

I was with you. Of course, I had fun.

"I did," I answered with a nod. "What about you?"

"Besides worrying about that old guy having a heart attack, I had a fantastic night."

I tilted my head to the side. "What old guy?"

"Your dance partner for most of the night."

"I danced with an old guy?"

He nodded as a slow, amused grin consumed his face.

The wheels started to turn, and my brain caught up with the hazy  memories. "Oh … the old guy in the blue blazer? The one who kept pelvic  thrusting his geriatric crotch into my ass?"

Thatch's face turned up with hilarity. "In his defense, you were encouraging his senior citizen dance moves."

I cracked up at that. "Oh, man. I bet Sean was thrilled. How bad did I embarrass him last night?"

"Like on a scale of zero to ten?"

I nodded.

One of his hands left my boobs and slid a lock of hair behind my ear. "I'd say a twelve, maybe? Twelve and a half, tops?"

"Fantastic." I fist-pumped the air. "The night was a success, then."

He chuckled.

"What about you? How bad did I embarrass you?"

He tilted his head in amusement. "You didn't embarrass me."

"Oh, come on." I raised a knowing brow. "Be honest, Thatcher."

"Honey, you didn't embarrass me," he responded in an even tone. "I thoroughly enjoyed watching you have a good time."

"Even when I was grinding on the old dude?"

He grinned. "Especially when you were grinding on the old dude."

My sleepy brain buzzed at the abnormality overload. That was never a guy's reaction.

This man. What was I going to do with him?

He never failed to amaze me with his abnormal yet refreshing responses  to my behavior. Thatch had become someone in my life that I could always  rely on. Someone I could trust to have my back no matter what. Those  kinds of people were so rare in a world filled with selfish motives and  one-track minds. I felt lucky I had found someone like that in him.