Page 159 of The Billionaires

LILLY

Colossus runs away.

Hmm. Did he follow Bruce?

A hissing sound draws my attention—and when I turn, all the serenity that I’ve gained during the yoga practice is washed away by a tsunami of hormones.

Bruce is shirtless.

And pants-less.

With beads of sweat pebbling on his rippling muscles.

For Anubis’s sake, even the dog is staring at Bruce as if saying:

He looks more masculine than a pack of boy dogs—and without so much as lifting a leg.

Bruce throws a devastating punch at the poor bag. And another.

Somehow, even the violence twisting his features is hot—so much so I feel unwanted heat pool in my core.

Grr. It’s like this man is actively trying to keep me in a state of perpetual arousal.

Gritting my teeth, I start doing the cat-cow.

Nope. Unlike every other time I’ve done this, I become hyperaware of my pelvic floor muscles—so I switch to the lizard.

Hell’s bells. This pose is even worse, and the happy baby leaves me feeling extremely unhappy. And wanting his baby.

The problem persists when I do the plow, and even when I do a shoulder stand, so I get back on my feet and attempt the eagle—standing on one foot, crossing my arms in front of my body, and hooking my right foot around my left calf.

Oh, no.

With my legs twisted like this, I’ve just put pressure on my oversensitive clit. If I keep the pose for even a second more, I might?—

And it happens. I come in the middle of Bruce’s gym—right in front of him. Holy shit. I’ve always had a hair trigger when it comes to orgasms, but this is a whole other level.

I untangle my legs and thank goodness no moans have escaped my lips—a feat that took an elephantine effort of will.

“Hey, Colossus,” I say, my voice hoarse. “Let’s go learn fetch.”

Bruce pauses his onslaught to say, “His toys are by his bed.”

Great. I’m headed to Bruce’s bedroom.

At least he’s not going to be there.

I exit the gym, but the dog doesn’t follow.

With a sigh, I pick him up. I didn’t think to bring a treat here and thus have nothing to lure him with.

When we’re in Bruce’s bedroom, I take a few toys and resist the strong urge to strip naked, dive into Bruce’s bed, and reach another climax as I luxuriate in his smell on the sheets.

Noticing the toys, Colossus wags his tail.

Good. Now that I’ve got his attention, I take him to my room and toss the first toy—a plush shark that has some motor inside that makes it wag its tail.

The puppy runs after the shark, grabs it, but doesn’t bring it back.

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