Page 150 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Abby

“I never said I’m taking the job." I glance out the window, mainly, so I don’t have to look at the face of the man next to me.

The man who drives the car like he’s in complete control, yet with that deceptively relaxed feel of a person who’s supremely confident things will go his way.

Like he assumed I was taking the role he offered me.

"Never," I say with more force.

"You trying to convince yourself, or me?" He smirks.

"I’m simply trying to get it through your thick skull that I haven’t decided what to do about your proposition."

Like shoving it up that hard-as-buns-of-steel-arse of yours, is what I want to say, but I don’t dare.

Despite the passing of months, I still remember the feel of his heavy palm on my arse.

The crack of fire that streaked up my back when he first spanked me.

I clench my thighs to tamp down the embers that fan to life in my core at the recollection.

Why is it, he seems even more sexy than when I last saw him?

The time apart has only honed his muscles further.

He was already big when he left, but now… Now, he’s positively a giant.

A very sculpted giant with biceps that strain the sleeves of his T-shirt.

A giant whose thighs are broader and more muscle-bound than I remember.

A giant whose mammoth fingers are wrapped about the steering wheel.

As for the tent at his crotch—his resting dickface seems so much more ginormous than what I remember it to be.

Not that I sneaked a peek at that part of his equipment.

Okay, maybe a tiny peek, but that was only as I slid into the car, and he was right there, sprawled in the driver’s seat like a lazy jungle cat.

A jaguar. A black jaguar with mis-matched irises who’s biding his time before he leaps on me.

I draw in a breath and that cardamom and mint scent of his infiltrates my senses. My nipples tighten, my toes curl, and my pussy squeezes in on that phantom cock of his that I’ve imagined between my thighs every day since that night he fucked me.

Oh, yeah, at some point in the last few months I changed my mind about that love-making bullshit.

It was a shag, pure and simple. That’s all I was to him.

That’s all I’ll ever be to him. And I’m going to have to stop thinking about how good that last time between us was.

Especially since he hasn’t alluded to it at all since.

"You heard me," I say through gritted teeth. "I haven’t made up my mind about your stupid job offer."

For a few seconds, he doesn’t reply. The silence stretches and stretches until my nerve-endings feel stretched.

Goosebumps pop on my skin. The atmosphere inside the car seems to grow thick with unsaid words.

It’s as if, without saying anything, he’s conveying his displeasure to me.

Don’t say anything. Don’t be the first to speak.

If you do, you’ll give him the upper hand.

I curl my fingers around the strap of my handbag and press my lips closed.

He still doesn’t say a word. Nor does he take his eyes off the road.

Or give any other indication that he’s heard me.

And yet, I can’t get over the feeling that I’ve disappointed him.

And I don’t like the feeling. Not at all.

Don’t do it. Don’t. I turn in my seat and scowl at him. "What?"

"I didn’t say a word," he drawls.

"And yet, you’re communicating so much."

"You reading my mind now, Sparrow?"

"Stop with that infernal nickname," I spit out.

He laughs. Asshole chuckles in delight. The sound is warm and hard, and so masculine. The flesh between my thighs quivers.

Damn, he doesn’t need to touch me or even look at me. Apparently, his talking is enough for me to have a spontaneous orgasm. Is there something called a spontaneous orgasm? If not, I’ve invented it. Who am I kidding? He invented it. Bastard.

"You’re ready to fly at me and peck my eyes out; you’re living up to it," he murmurs.

I blow out a breath, then force my muscles to relax. "Can you at least do me the courtesy of acknowledging that I haven’t taken you up on the job?"

"No."

"Eh?" I blink. The gall of this man.

"You don’t have a choice in this. You’re taking the job."

"No, I’m not," I say through gritted teeth. My guts twist with anger, and I clench my fists. If he weren’t driving, I’d lean over and slap him.

"Don’t do it," he says simply.

"Don’t do what?"

"Whatever it is you were contemplating just then."

"So, you can read my mind now, is it?" I snap.

"You’re easy to read. Your every emotion is written clearly on your face."

I flush. Heat pumps through my blood. Oh, my god. Can this man get any more infuriating?

"If I were to work for you, we’d fight every second. I’d probably resort to bodily harm, and that wouldn’t help either of us."

"You’d be surprised." He eases the car to a stop at the signal. "You’ll find that I enjoy sparring. Also, the fact that you don’t hesitate to go toe-to-toe with me shows that you are perfect for this role."

I narrow my gaze. "Do you have to turn everything I say against me?"

“Where would the fun be if I didn’t?”

He turns to me, and when our gazes clash, I forget to breathe.

Oh, god, those eyes of his with their two different colored irises are like a physical punch to my solar plexus.

My throat dries. My stomach ties itself in knots.

A strange excitement shudders down my spine.

Being in his presence, with his attention directed completely on me is like being at the receiving edge of a blast of electricity.

Or like being dropped into a vat filled with energy drinks.

Or like having liquid adrenaline shot through my veins.

I try to breathe, and my lungs burn. It’s like he’s absorbed every last bit of oxygen in the space.

Like he’s thrown an invisible lasso around me and is drawing me closer…

closer. I lean forward, unable to resist the pull of his large body.

I’m a satellite inexplicably drawn into his orbit.

Unable to take my gaze off his gorgeous face.

Unable to form a coherent thought as to why my behavior right now is so out of character.

As to why I need to touch him, just for a second.

Just to see if his freshly shaven cheek is smooth to the touch.

Then, one side of his lips twists. I recognize the smirk for what it is. An acknowledgement of the fact he knows how affected I am by being this close to him. And that he expected nothing less. That he knows I’ll accept this job with him. And god, do I want to wipe that smile off his face.

Without conscious thought, I swipe out my hand, knowing only that I need to show him, he can’t take me for granted.

Only, he’s faster. He locks his fingers around my wrist, and pinpricks of heat zip up my arm.

My nipples instantly harden, my thigh muscles shudder, and moisture pools between my legs.

OMG! How can my body betray me like this?

"Let go of me," I snap.

"Only if you agree to work for me."

"I won’t."

"You will."

"Nothing you say will make me agree to this. Nothing you say will make me believe that Knight asked you to look after me. Not after you disappeared for eight months. And not after he never told me anything about you for all these years.”

“So, call and ask him.”

I stiffen. “You know I can’t do that. Firstly, he is on a mission and unreachable. And secondly, even if he were at base, I wouldn’t dream of bothering him with my problems and diverting his attention.”

"That’s one thing we can agree about. Knight needs to focus on his survival. It’s why he left me in charge of your well-being, so he could focus on the challenges he’s facing. The least you can do is support him in this.”

He’s right, and of course, I’m going to support Knight if that’s what he wants.

But…why didn’t he mention this to me when we last spoke?

He must have been too preoccupied. A tour of duty is nothing to joke about, and he’d explained he expected to be called up for a mission any day.

He might have been too busy to email before he left.

Still, he found the time to communicate with Cade.

It’s always been like this. The two of them share a special bond that I’m not a part of.

I lock my fingers in my lap. Guess I have no choice but to fall in with Cade’s proposal.

Cade must sense I’m giving in, for his lips curl.

"Do we understand each other now?” he drawls.

I set my jaw. It’s one thing to accept his plan internally, it’s another to say it aloud. If I do so, he’ll know he’s won this round. Something else he’ll have to gloat over. Another win to hold over me. When I don’t reply, his gaze narrows.

“Do. We. Understand. Each. Other?” He lowers his voice to a hush, and a shiver slithers down my spine. My scalp tingles. Moisture dampens my panties, and goddamn him, but I can’t stop myself from nodding my assent.

The rest of the journey to my apartment is completed in silence, and soon Cade eases the car to a stop in front of my apartment block.

I try to open the door, but it’s still locked.

"Invite me up," he orders.

"What? No." I whip my head around in his direction to find he’s smirking again.

"Relax, I was simply kidding you, unless"—he searches my features—"you do want me to accompany you upstairs… In which case, I’ll be happy to oblige. Unfinished business, and all that."

I gape at him. "That…that’s what you’re going to call leaving me in bed in the middle of the night—"

"It was dawn, and you were deep in slumber. In fact, as I recollect, you were snoring softly, so—"

"I don’t snore," I snap.

"Well, you were on this occasion. Guess you were worn out. I wonder why that is, hmm?" He smirks.