Page 157 of The Billionaires

“You’re always passionate about your work,” Mom says disapprovingly. “What is it this time?”

I explain to her how a cryptocurrency of my own making will help us bring banking to parts of the world where it is otherwise difficult—and she gives me her thoughts on this as a philanthropist herself.

“Thanks,” I tell her when she’s done. “But don’t get me wrong. I intend to make money from this in the end.”

“If your making money enriches people’s lives, why not?” she asks.

I smile. “Exactly.”

“I’d better let you go,” she says. “But do make an effort to reply to my emails.”

“Sure,” I say. I’ll have to delegate said task to someone besides my assistant because he is squeamish. Maybe his assistant? More than ninety percent of the videos my mom sends to people are grisly clips of someone getting their pimples popped. In fact, she is so obsessed with this disgusting activity that she went to medical school and became a dermatologist specializing in that one specific “treatment.”

“Don’t forget to spoil my grandson,” she says with a grin. “See you soon.”

With that, she hangs up.

I take Colossus outside using the leash techniques Lilly taught me—the ones that will be giving me wet dreams for years to come.

I’m not sure if it’s the new skills, or the dog’s training so far, but the walk goes smoother than in the past.

When I get back, I set the puppy on the floor and meet his gaze. “Ready to go back to Lilly?”

He becomes excited, which strongly suggests that what he heard was, “Want a snack?”

I let him follow as I seek Lilly out, but she’s nowhere to be found.

“You’re a dog,” I say when I’m close to giving up. “Find Lilly.”

Tail wagging, Colossus runs forward. I follow, but I’m pretty sure he’ll lead me to his favorite place—the kitchen.

But no. We pass the kitchen, the media room, and the library before heading down a corridor into the gym—a place he’s rarely, if ever, been.

Curious.

I enter the room.

Oh, fuck.

Lilly is here—and she is doing yoga. Specifically, downward dog. Or to put it another way, she’s bent over at the waist like she’s ready for a hard fucking.

My breath hitches.

Her firm ass looks mind-bogglingly good in those tight yoga pants. Unbidden, a pornographic movie plays out in my mind’s eye, one where I go into caveman mode and rip those yoga pants into shreds.

And there it is. A hard-on to rule them all. I’ve never taken Viagra, but I bet this is what an overdose of it would feel like.

As if taunting me, Lilly transitions into a yoga squat—or what she’d look like in reverse cow girl if she was bouncing on my cock.

Enough. I’m being a perv. It’s best to back out of here before she notices me, so I can run straight into a cold shower.

I take a step backward, but it’s too late. Tail wagging, the dog rushes over to Lilly’s yoga mat. In an eyeblink, he’s on his back in front of her, begging for a belly rub.

Lilly stands straight, then scans the nearby mirror until she spots my reflection. She then kneels (causing another cock twitch) and scratches Colossus’s belly. “Where did you ditch Bruce?”

“I know you saw me,” I growl.

“What’s that?” She puts her ear next to Colossus’s maw, like she’s listening to him whisper something—and gets her ear licked for her trouble. “Ah, yes. He can be a real grouch.”

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