Banking the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 2) (8 page)

“G
et out of the car, Cass,” Thatch demanded, holding the door open with his bear claw of a hand. I stared at it with irrational anger as the size and strength and fucking veins of it did their best to tempt me into mental porn GIF territory.

Fuck you, traitorous tactile teases
.

One activity after the next, the giant fucker had tricked me into chauffeuring him around all day. To the party and ice cream, of course, but also to the bank and several rental properties he apparently owned in Queens before taking over behind the wheel. Even then, I had a feeling he’d been tempted to take me to a bar or two, but I’d slurred several sleepy threats to his life and, evidently, one stuck.

Thank fuck.

We were currently sitting in front of his building, and I was more than ready to head back to my place so I could begin my sleep marathon. But he was trying like hell to cockblock me from my bed. After everything he’d put me through today,
now
he was convinced I was too tired to drive home.

I shook my head. “I know I’m a real joy to be around, but you’ve monopolized enough of my time today. So, move your ass, T-bag. I’m going home.”

He stretched his big arms across the top of the door and the roof of the car and leaned forward, smirking down at me. “Honey, I know you have
many
talents, but I’m seeing a dilemma with trying to drive from there.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, fighting the gravity of my heavy eyelids. As much as I tried, they wouldn’t open past a squint.

“Pretty sure you need the steering wheel and pedals to get this clown car to move.” He nodded toward the opposite side of the dashboard. “Which just so happens to be over there.”

I followed his eyes and realized I was still in the passenger seat.

Well, shit. I guess I really am tired.

“Thanks, Captain Obvious, but I already knew that,” I lied, unbuckling my seat belt and making a move to climb over the console. Thatch stopped me before I could make another inch of progress by locking his big, meaty arms around my waist and pulling me out of the car.

“Goddammit! Put me down, you ogre!”

But Shrek ignored my demands, tossing me over his shoulder and striding toward his building. With impressive precision, he tossed the keys to the doorman and instructed him to park the Zipcar in an approved space.

“No! Do not park it! I’m using it!” I shouted as I slapped him across the back with an opened palm.

“Calm down,” he said through a chuckle as his legs ate up the tile in long, fluid strides.

“
Thatch!
” I shouted even louder, my voice echoing against the marble walls of the swank lobby. Fucking hell, I hadn’t been in control of one goddamn thing today.

One big hand landed against my ass in a smack, and I squealed in response.

“Cool it, Crazy, or else I’ll just keep spanking.”

I bored holes into his back, wishing like hell my feet were on the ground so I could slap the shit out of him. “If you touch my ass one more time, I will bite your dick off.”

“You know, I’m not much on teeth, but for you, I’ll find a way to enjoy it.”

Fucking king of one-upping.

He gripped the backs of my thighs with his big hands and strode onto the elevator. I heard him tap a button as the doors slid shut and then we were moving, up, up,
way up,
to what I could only assume was the penthouse level.

Thatch didn’t put me down until we were inside his apartment and my ass was hitting a plush leather couch. “Stay there,” he demanded. “I’m going to heat us up some food, and hopefully, that will give you enough energy to ride the subway home.”

“I’m not a dog,” I retorted as I let my head fall back against the cushions. I didn’t even allow myself the opportunity to browse his apartment. My eyes had already fallen shut from the luxurious feel of his couch, and I was too tired to think about anything else. The decor, the man—the weird way arguing with him made my blood hum—all of it would have taken a considerably larger amount of energy and cognitive function to explore.

“Comfortable, isn’t it?”

I peeked out of one eye to see Thatch standing above me with an amused grin on his face.

“I thought you were making me something to eat?”

“I thought you weren’t tired?”

The room went dark even as I flipped him the bird. “I’m just resting my eyes.”

“You know, that’s exactly what my mom says right before she takes a forty-hour nap.”

My lips twitched.
Funny bastard
.

“Shut up and make me food,” I retorted, but my voice wasn’t very convincing. Sleep was trying like hell to make me her bitch.

All I got in response were a few soft chuckles and the sound of his footsteps fading away.

“Huh?” I mumbled at the feel of big arms cuddling my body against a rock-hard chest.

Am I having another Henry Cavill dream?

I lifted my hands to cover my eyes from the light and the possibility of getting hit by rogue debris. It always seemed to be dusty in my Superman fantasies. And if it wasn’t a dirt thing, it was another. Last Cavill fantasy, I got a mouth full of cape instead of Supercock, and I had promised myself I’d never let that unfortunate dream sequence happen ever again.

“You fell asleep on the couch in about the most awkward position I’ve ever seen. I figured you’d be more comfortable in my bed,” the voice said, soft yet husky, and undoubtedly turning me on.

“Henry?”

“Who the fuck is Henry?” The voice turned angry as we continued to move—
or maybe we were flying?—
to some unknown place.

I blinked my eyes open and came face-to-face with Thatch. His brown eyes were darker than normal, and his mouth was set in a firm line. I reached up and let my fingers run across the dark, scruffy, short beard covering his jaw. “You’re not Henry Cavill.”

“No,” he said with a smirk. “I’m better.”

“This dream is different, but hell if I’m not already into it.”

The truth was, I’d been here before, but it had been more of a daydream, a completely conscious exploration of what it’d be like to be close enough to Thatch that I could feel him, smell him—fuck him until I couldn’t walk. It made complete sense that I’d transitioned into thinking about it in my sleep too.

A soft chuckle left his lips. “This isn’t a dream, honey.”

My back was pressed into something soft, maybe a comforter…or maybe we were about to bang on a cloud? I didn’t know, but one thing I
did
know was that I was down for it.
All
of it.

Dream Thatch lay down beside me and pulled blankets over top of us, and that’s when I realized we were in a bed, a huge motherfucker of a bed. Fantasy or not, it made sense the Jolly Green Giant would need a California King to accommodate his size.

He got comfortable beside me, stretching out and getting into what I assumed was his preferred sleeping position—on his back with one beefy arm stretched over his head. I turned on my side and perused his body, even lifting up the covers to find that he was only wearing boxer briefs. Lord, the muscles on this man. He was a buffet, and I was ready to get my money’s worth.

“Cass? What are you doing?” He watched me rub my hands across his firm chest.

“I’m horny,” I told him. Because, yeah, I was, and why did Dream Thatch have to be so damn irresistible? I had to squeeze my thighs together just to curb the pulsing sensation between them. But it wasn’t enough. I needed more.

He laughed softly. “I think you’re dreaming, honey. You should probably go back to sleep.”

But he didn’t make any attempts to stop my hands from taking inventory. And they kept exploring, sliding past his belly and down to his briefs.
Oh, yeah
. Dream Thatch was horny too.

I smirked down at him as I got to my knees and straddled his hips. A moan left my lips the instant I felt him hard and thick and pressed against my pussy. “Oh, fuck yes.”

His eyebrows rose to his forehead. “Honey—”

“Shh.” I pressed my fingers to his lips. “Just lie back and enjoy the ride, Thatch. I’m gonna make this
real fucking good
for both of us.”

“
Shit
,” he groaned as I rotated my hips. “
Fuck.
What is happening?”

“I don’t know, but I’m really liking it.”

“Are you even awake right now?” He gripped my hips, stopping my movements. His eyes stared into mine, a heady mix of concern and raging lust.

I shook my head and laughed at Dream Thatch’s attempts to trick me, and I bit into my bottom lip.

“
You’re
awake.” I rotated my hips again—despite his efforts to stop me—to punctuate my meaning. Thatch’s dick was wide awake and raring to go.
Oh, yeah
.

“And I’m fucking loving the feel of you between my legs.”

“Christ,” he groaned again.

I leaned down and pressed my lips against his. I slipped my tongue inside his mouth and kissed him deep. He stopped questioning me then, and he tangled his hands into my hair as he took control of the kiss. Groping intensified, and the race to get as close as possible turned into an all-out wrestling match. We were both moaning into each other’s mouths, our bodies instinctively moving and grinding in a perfect pleasure-inducing rhythm.

When it felt like a spark lit a fire between my legs, everything started to become a lot less fuzzy dream and more lust-fueled reality. Surprised, I sat up, breaking the kiss and staring down at him. This feeling and the rapid rise and fall of my chest were not the results of a dream.
Nope,
I was definitely awake and about two seconds away from fucking Thatch.

Well, this is unexpected.

I rubbed a hand over my eyes, blinking past the fog, and looked at the man beneath me. Thatch appeared utterly confused, but I could still see that layer of need beneath his pupils.

“Cass?” he asked, gauging my face.

I thought it over for a good thirty seconds. I could stop this before it went any further fairly easily. I knew he wouldn’t push the issue. But the only problem was I didn’t have any good reasoning to back that option up. I was now wide awake, Thatch’s cock was still hard, and hell if my pussy wasn’t begging for a ride.

And if we’re really looking at the situation objectively,
he
woke
me
up. This meant Thatch had to take responsibility for his actions and help me fall back asleep.

Yeah, we’re definitely going to finish this.
I was going to ride the Jolly Green Giant until he lulled me into a mind-numbing orgasm and right back to motherfucking sleep.

“Guess what, Thatch?” I asked, smirking down at him. I’d paused for who knew how long, but he seemed perfectly content to rub his hands everywhere within reach to keep occupied.

“What?” He tilted his head to the side as said greedy hands rubbed across the tops of my thighs.

I leaned forward and pressed my mouth to his again, slipping my tongue between his lips and getting a taste of him before sucking on his tongue and spurring an intoxicating groan from his throat.

“I’m going to fuck you,” I told him as I moved my mouth down his jaw to his neck and then, his tattoo-covered chest.

“You are?” he asked, shock and surprise and a whole lot of “what the fuck is happening right now?” evident in his voice.

“Oh, yeah. I’m about to get your boner out and have a fan-fucking-tastic time.” I grinned when I found something shiny and metal for my tongue to play with. My lips caressed his pierced nipple, sucking the metal into my mouth and flicking it with my tongue. My mouth tortured a few “
fucks”
from his lips until I sat up on my knees.

Holy hell, Thatch’s long body made for some kind of view.

“You owe me an orgasm after waking me up. And I
always
collect on payment.”

“I—
what?
” he asked through a half laugh and moan. But I guess a girl grinding herself on you would get that kind of incredulous response.

“You. Owe. Me,” I repeated as I took off my shirt and bra, tossing them to the side of the bed.

He stopped asking questions then, eyes too distracted by my chest. Gripping my breasts with both hands, I rolled my nipples between my fingers and watched him watch me.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He licked his bottom lip as he continued to watch, seemingly unable to look anywhere other than my tits.

“Do you want a taste?”

“I won’t be satisfied with just a taste,” he said, sitting up and taking my mouth in a toe-curling kiss. His tongue danced with mine as he gripped my ass, sliding me against his cock. “I want it all, honey,” he whispered against my lips before leaning down and sucking a nipple into his mouth.

His tongue was devious, I knew that much as it flitted across my nipple with two short flicks and a deliciously long drag. My hips ground against him as I threaded my fingers into his hair, encouraging him to give the other nipple just as much attention. And he did. The man was nothing if not thorough.

But I could only take so much teasing before I started to get frustrated. I gripped his hair, pulling his eyes to mine. “Get naked. Get a condom. I need your cock inside me.”