Page 151 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Wanker that he is, even his smirk is hot. Something is wrong with me. I need to get my head examined. It’s the only explanation for why I find him even more hot than when he left. And this, after months and months of silence.

"Why didn’t you call or text or get in touch with me in anyway?" I burst out. "Why? Tell me." I turn to him, but he remains facing forward.

"Tell me, Cade. That last night before you left, I thought something changed between us. I thought, maybe, we were finally coming to some kind of an understanding. I thought—"

"That by sharing my past, I was changing the tone of our relationship? That because I fucked you vanilla-style a couple of times, and looked into your eyes while I was nailing you, I had feelings for you? You thought I was going all emo on you, is that it?"

I blink, then slowly nod. "You wouldn’t have told me about your past if you didn’t feel something more than the hate you’ve fostered all these years."

"You’re right."

"I am?"

He turns to me. "It’s not hate I feel for you anymore. It’s something far more insidious, far deeper, far more intense, actually."

"What—" I swallow. "What is it?"

"It’s a carnal urge. A need to possess your body, to break you down and build you up so you know how it feels to have to reinvent yourself. A strong impulse to fill every hole in your body and take every last drop of pleasure I can wring from you."

"So, you feel—"

"A sexual urge for you."`

“Oh, I intend to ensure you cater to my every whim, my every need, my every depraved proclivity. And now that you're no longer a virgin, I don’t need to hide my darker predisposition from you. I no longer need to pussyfoot around you, though I could foot your pussy. Now there’s a thought.

" He purses his lips. "Definitely has possibilities. "

My head spins. "What are you talking about?"

"You accept the position, make your brother happy and thus, make me happy. Hell, we’ll be one, big, happy family—temporarily. Which is what you want, huh? Playing happy families, and all that?"

Tears prick the backs of my eyes. "You’re such an asshole."

"Thank you, thank you." He mock bows. "So, what do you say, hmm? It’s, surely, a proposition you can’t afford to let pass you by."

I grit my teeth. "I have no interest in sleeping with you."

"There will be no sleeping involved when I introduce you to the pleasures of a true Dom/Sub relationship."

A thousand little flames seem to erupt across my skin.

Oh, god. That sounds hot. Like really hot.

As hot as how he fucked me that last time in my bed.

No, even hotter, if that’s possible. Since realizing how happy it made me to obey his orders, I researched what that means.

In other words, I turned to my Tbr; not that I’ll ever be able to finish all of the books I have on there in my lifetime—a-n-d, I know now that I have a praise kink.

And that pain, if inflicted by this guy—and only this guy—arouses me.

And that I’m probably a submissive. And he’s, clearly, a dominant.

But to actually put that name on this chemistry that’s always flared between us, to make it all official… Why, it’s almost like being engaged… Kind of… Sort of… Well, having a relationship, at any rate.

He breaks into my thoughts. "Of course, it will have to be our little secret. You can’t tell Knight about it."

I stare at him. "What a good friend you are. You fucked your best friend’s little sister, and now, because he wants you to look after me, you’re going to turn our relationship into one based on kink."

"That’s me. I have no compunctions. Don’t look to me for understanding, or humaneness, or any of those emotions that make one weak."

Only the weak are afraid of being perceived as weak. Hmm. I narrow my gaze. "It doesn’t make sense. On the field, it’s clear you’re loyal to your teammates. Yet here you are, disregarding how much this is going to hurt Knight."

"You hurt me first."

A-n-d, there it is. The reason we can never have the kind of relationship that normal men and women have with each other. I botched it all up when I betrayed him. And I thought I’d paid my dues. I thought things were changing between us. Apparently, not. I glance away and out of the window.

So, this is it. The only kind of relationship I’m going to be able to have with him is a physical one. One based on a power exchange. And would that be so bad? Everything he did to my body. I enjoyed. I more than enjoyed; I loved it. And this way, I’d have him to myself, wouldn’t I?

"You’ll have to be exclusive." I turn on him.

"Excuse me?" His gaze widens. A look which I can only interpret as horror is etched over his features. "What do you mean, exclusive?"

It’s my turn to stare at him. "You mean to say, you slept with the women with whom you were photographed on the tour?"

He drums his fingers on the steering wheel. "I don’t date them for their brains, darling."

Anger thrums at my temples. My guts churn. The bastard. He couldn’t have. Could he? "You…you fucked all those women?" I hurl the words at him.

He arches an eyebrow. "What do you think?"

"I think—" I open and shut my mouth. The rage boils over. My vision tunnels. I snap open my seatbelt, then swipe out my hand. My palm only fails to connect with his cheek because he ducks, then grabs my wrist.

"Jealous, Sparrow?"

"You absolute arse, you…you…left my bed and crawled into theirs?

You... You…" I stop, for his eyes gleam with suppressed mirth. Jerkass! The skin around his mouth creases. He slumps back into his seat, so I’m pulled forward into his lap.

"The hell is wrong with you? If you think, after what you told me, I’m going to let you… you… "

"Fuck me?"

My cheeks erupt with fire at once. Not that I didn’t think the f-word in my head, but it sounds so much dirtier coming from him.

"You like having fun at my expense, don’t you?" I say through gritted teeth.

He yawns. "Helps to pass the time, Sparrow."

OMG, he’s so uncouth. So mean. So heartless. How could I have carried around a torch for him all these months? Not to mention, the years before we met again.

I might be attracted to this man, but if I let him near me again, he’ll consume me. He’ll ravish me. No doubt, he’ll make me come so hard again, any chance I have of finding a relationship after him will, surely, be lost.

And where will that leave me? Pining after the kind of man I swore I’d never fall for. The kind of moneyed, self-aggrandizing, heartless assholes I grew up around. The kind I swore never to have anything to do with.

I want someone who’s simple and easy to be with.

Someone safe. Someone who doesn’t set my heart racing, my pulse fluttering, and the heat flushing through my blood at the sight of those gorgeous, haunting mismatched eyes of his.

He’s all wrong for me, and while I may have no choice but to work with him, I’m going to keep my distance.

It’s the only way I’m going to survive my time on this job.

And as soon as my brother returns, I’ll convince him I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.

I don’t need any egoistical, swollen-headed, alphahole dickhead looking out for me like I’m one of his possessions.

"For my brother’s sake, I’ll accept the job," I say in a low voice.

"Good."

"It doesn’t take away from the fact that I hate you," I add derisively.

The vehemence in my voice seems to take him by surprise, then he nods. "Let’s keep it that way, shall we?"

I shove the door open and step out when I hear, "Sparrow?"

I pause, wanting to ignore him. Yet my body, as always, seems to have a mind of its own when it comes to this man. So, I find myself turning to scowl at him. "What?"

"You forgot your handbag."

I blink rapidly. Then bend and snatch the bag from where I placed it on the seat next to me. I straighten and take a step back.

"Tomorrow. Six a.m. Don’t keep me waiting."

"Six a.m.?" I gape. "Did you say—"

"Six a.m." He tilts his head. "I need to get to practice. And you’re coming with me."