Page 25 of The Billionaire's Princess

“Smug bastard. Now I’m not sorry for leaving you in that state. How are your privates, by the way?”

“Still blue. The sound of your voice in my ear doesn’t help.”

I grin at myself, ridiculously pleased. “Do take care of things down there. It’s an exceptionally fine cock.”

“Glad you feel that way,” he says, his voice husky now.

I turn away from the mirror and lean against the counter, balancing the phone against my shoulder.

“Speaking of my new favorite subject,” I say softly, “I find it ironic that, according to you, I’m supposed to remain untouched. Yet your cock is free to do whatever it bloody well pleases. How is that fair?”

He also lowers his voice until it becomes a soft and seductive murmur. “You’ll be happy to know that my dick is only interested in you. Which has been a wildly annoying and inconvenient development recently. So you have nothing to worry about.”

“That is good news,” I say, caught off guard by a sudden wave of wistfulness. “I missed you, you know.”

Long and serrated breath from Damon.

“I missed you.”

There’s a pause, during which I try to resist the knowledge that he’s right here in the building with me, just a couple of doors down. But it seems prudent to slow down this runaway train. No matter how much I don’t want to.

“So how will we handle this, Damon? Shall I Google you? Find out everything, including your pet hamster’s name when you were in primary school?”

“Let’s do it the old-fashioned way. Ask each other questions. Listen to the answers. Learn about each other.”

Unfortunately, the number one question that needs answering has to do with when I’ll see him again.

“Yes, well, the main thing you need to know about me is that I eat dinner every single night,” I say. “And I get hangry when I’m not fed.”

I wait, breath held.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at eight. Sharp. Wear your hair down.”

“Cheeky bastard.”

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