Page 64 of The Thing About My Secret Billionaire

Fuck, her skin is soft, and my cock is rock hard.

“It sounds like we have more in common than either of us realized,” she whispers.

“I’m absolutely certain we do.” I also think I’m not the only one who doesn’t know which half of myself is the real half.

I slip my fingers around the back of her neck, knowing I’m not strong enough to resist her. I can’t do it. The draw of her, the need for her, the desire for her is too much for a mere human to resist.

She tilts her head toward my hand, eyelids heavy, lips parting just the tiniest fraction.

And that’s it. My body needs to be against hers right now, it has to be. There’s no right, no wrong—all that exists in this moment is the way I know thingsneedto be.

Closing the final gap between us, I cup her face and drop my mouth to her delicious lips.

And I am fucked.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

FRANKIE

Miller’s lips feel like every dream I’ve ever had all rolled into one. They’re warm and welcoming, passionate but tender, soft but full of desire.

I’d never have thought it was possible to know someone just from the way their mouth touches mine, but that is exactly how this feels.

His hand on my waist draws me closer until my breasts press against his chest and his hardness pushes against my lower belly.

I allow myself to drift into him, allow my body to float away on the sea of sensations that his tongue and lips send coursing through me. The tingle of my skin, the fluttery pounding in my chest, the wet need inside me.

“You are so beautiful and so remarkable,” he murmurs between kisses.

And in this moment I feel like I really might be both those things. I might at least allow myself to believe thathebelieves I am both those things.

Wow, trusting what a man tells me—that’s new.

A sudden sharp click and a loudwhooshmakes us both jump violently.

I laugh as I clutch my chest and try to calm my startled heart. “You must have leaned on the button.”

I point at the red light that’s now shining brightly on the dishwasher.

“Shit,” he says. “I didn’t put in any detergent. Did you?”

“Nope.”

He snatches at the handle and lowers the door, forcing me to step to the side, then presses a couple of buttons and closes it again. “There. I think I’ve reset it. No point washing dishes without soap. You’d only have to run it again.”

I suppress a laugh at his fastidiousness.

“I’m annoying, aren’t I?” he asks with a cock of his head. “Liking things clean, I mean.”

“Oh, that? No. The clean stuff’s fine. It’s everything else that’s annoying.”

He eyes me with amusement, running his tongue between his teeth and his top lip.

“You know what’s annoying about you?” He circles his arms around my waist as I loop mine around his neck.

“What?”

“That I can’t leave you alone.”