Page 123 of The Billionaire's Fake Wife

His touch stills, then he massages his fingertips over the knotted muscles of my shoulders. Oh!

"My mother."

I still.

"She loved classical music. She was listening to Mozart when she went into labor, hence..." He digs his fingers into the back of my head and scratches my scalp.

Goosebumps tingle down my skin. I shiver, "Where did you learn to do that?"

"Experience."

Of course. My stomach lurches; something hot stabs at my chest. I am not jealous. Why am I jealous?

"That’s enough." I pull away and he doesn’t comment.

I peer into the darkness, then clear my throat.

"What?" He sounds half-resigned, half-aroused. "I can hear you thinking, so say it aloud."

"That... What happened?"

"What…?”

"You know, ‘that,’ when I almost blacked out—"

"You mean your second orgasm in as many minutes?" I can’t see his face, but damn, I can sense the smug satisfaction in his voice.

"You’re welcome."

Jeez.

"How can you be both considerate and an alphahole?"

"You do realize that's technically not an official word in the English language, hmm? Not that I'm protesting its usage." He smirks. "And it comes naturally to me."

Why did I ask?I groan aloud.

Silence for another beat. Don’t ask him, don’t.

"Is it… ah, always like that?" I mean, I know it can’t be, but I have to ask. Not that I expect him to answer or anything.

The silence stretches. It’s completely quiet. In the shitty apartment I'd shared with Karma, there was always some noise at night. The ambulance screaming, late night party-goers returning home, the staff from the pub downstairs cleaning up before heading home. Here, I can hear my thoughts. Which I am not sure I appreciate. Not when all of them seem to lead back to him.

"It’s never been that way for me." His voice is low.

Oh!"You mean—"

"Go to sleep, Bird."

He turns on his side.

His breathing deepens. Apparently, that stupid switch on-switch off mechanism he has that allows him to flip the switch on his emotions can also help him fall asleep in an instant. The man really doesn’t have a soul.

Taking the virginity of the woman you blackmailed into helping you get revenge by destroying her father? Check.

Ensuring you make her life completely and utterly miserable during the process by crawling under her skin, and occupying her every waking thought and invading her dreams? Double check.

I close my eyes, and my limbs grow heavy. My breathing deepens, then catches.