Page 51 of The Bossy Billionaire

“You are not ruined.” His eyes burn with rage.

“I can’t do the things I used to do.” He just needs to get over it. I have. He starts slowly stalking toward me.

“You dance fine. You ride a horse fine. You fuck me just fine,” he seethes, coming right up to me, our feet toe to toe. He is breathing fast, and so am I, a mix of anger, frustration, arousal all coming to the forefront.

“There are ladders, driving, running…”

“They are just excuses. You can do anything you put your mind to,” he says in a challenge.

“I can’t,” I tell him, my hands now fisting. Can’t he understand?

“My brother will help.”

“He can’t.”

“Stop saying you can’t do things. You can!” he yells, exasperated.

“Stop being so goddamn bossy!” I yell at him in return, and he moves fast, grabbing the back of my head violently and planting his lips on mine. I am angry, and I grip on to his shirt and attempt to push him, but his other hand wraps around my waist and pins me to his tight. His hand splays on my lower back, the heat in his hold thawing me. My anger subsides as he kisses me like it is his dying wish.

He pulls back slightly, the two of us panting, and he rests his forehead on mine.

“Just indulge me once. My brother is the best. If nothing comes from it, I will leave it be and never speak to you about it again, and I will tell your brothers the same,” he says quietly, his eyes searching mine. I know he cares. I know he wants the best for me.

“I’m scared,” I whisper, my eyes starting to prick with water.

“Of what?” His brow crumples, looking confused.

“I'm scared that there is something he can do.” I swallow harshly, the truth stinging.

“But that is a good thing?”

“I can’t do surgery again. I can’t go into that hospital,” I tell him, my voice starting to waver, and I grip my fingers into his shirt so he doesn’t see them shaking. I watch his face as understanding washes over him, the fear I have of the place where it all happened. Where my life changed in many ways.

“Just talk to my brother. He has contacts on the East Coast. He knows the best surgeons in New York. But you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, and you never have to go back to that hospital again,” Huxley says with such authority that I believe him.

“Promise?”

“I fucking promise my life on it.” He pulls me tight, and I curl into his chest, hoping this man can keep his promise to me.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE - HUXLEY

It’s quiet as I sit outside, getting lost in the flames from the small fire we built. While it was cool, we ate dinner and chatted for a few hours before Lucy went inside to clean up, leaving me to have a quiet word with my brother before he carried Harvey up to bed, the two of them both now sound asleep, no doubt.

As the orange glow dances in front of me, I am deep in thought, so I don’t hear Lucy step up beside me.

“You okay?” she asks me, looking down, concerned.

“I’m good. You didn’t have to clean up tonight,” I tell her. She has been back in the kitchen for half an hour packing things away. Dinner together tonight was amazing. Seeing Lucy laugh and chat with my family brought a small ache to my chest. She fits in so perfectly. It was like she had been around them all for years. My nephew, Harvey, naturally gravitated toward her. She shines around kids, so no wonder the story time at Bloomers is so popular. All the kids love her.

“I don’t mind. It is nice that you and your brother get along so well.” She sighs, looking at the flames, and I don’t miss the way her fingers rub slightly on her thigh. I lean forward and grip her waist and pull her down on top of me. A startled squeal comes from her, but she doesn't have time to stop me before I have her on my lap, my hold on her tight.

“Huxe?” she says, trying to sit up. My nickname falls from her lips so effortlessly that I nearly stop breathing.

“Nope. You need to sit,” I say, pulling her back to lean on my chest, getting her comfortable.

“I’m too heavy.” She is fucking light as a feather; there is nothing to her.

“No, you're not. Stay,” I say firmly to her, and she stops wiggling. Not a moment too soon either, because my dick is starting to stand at attention. I close my eyes and run my hands around her, and my sense of smell heightens. Her jasmine hits me square in the chest, and without opening my eyes, I lean her back until her back hits my chest and her soft hair falls across my shoulders. I have never felt more content.

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