Page 263 of The Billionaires

His face is hard to read. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” I lie.

Standing up, he offers me his elbow again, and we walk to the car. As we approach it, my heartbeat skyrockets. The night has felt so much like a date that if he were to try to kiss me at the end, it wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest. It would give me palpitations, but wouldn’t surprise me.

He opens the door. “Have a safe trip.”

He leans in.

I almost have a heart attack.

He pecks me on the forehead—because of course he does.

I slink into the car, my cheeks so hot you could fry an omelet on them.

On the trip back, I replay everything that’s happened since I met Adrian, and it feels like a dream.

And tomorrow, I’ll move in with him. This fact is difficult to even wrap my mind around—but I try, for the whole ride home.

When I walk into the house, Mom and Mary demand every detail, so I tell them, and by the time I’m done, I start to yawn.

“Go to sleep,” Mom says when Mary matches my yawn with one of her own.

Good idea. I go through all my nightly rituals and get into bed—which is when sleep decides to become elusive.

Fine. It seems I’m too wired and have too much Adrian swirling through my busy mind.

So be it. I begin a new novel, and it keeps me busy until I get to the very shmexy scene where the rakish duke rips off the heroine’s bodice.

I close the book.

I have an idea about how to make myself sleepy and release some of the tension Adrian has caused.

Miss Miller can foresee what is coming and must prophylactically reach for the smelling salts.

Yep. Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I don’t masturbate—which is exactly what I need if I want to get any shut-eye tonight.

I reach under the blanket and begin brushing my fingers over my clit—and as I do, I picture Adrian as the duke from the book and myself as the bodice-less lady.

Boom. The orgasm bursts through me like a cork out of a well-shaken champagne bottle.

Finally satisfied, I fall asleep, and Adrian appears to me in a dream, naked and hard. Naturally, he deflowers me, and there’s only one word that can describe the act.

Grand.

CHAPTER 22

ADRIAN

I wake up with a single thought on my mind: Jane is moving in, in mere hours.

Working with my cleaning lady, I make sure the house is spotless, particularly the bigger of the guest rooms, henceforth known as Jane’s room.

Your movers are here, Jane informs me via text. Did you pay them extra to make sure I wouldn’t lift a finger? Because I haven’t.

I grin.

No, but I’m going to pay them extra now. I like the idea that the move is going to be easy for you.

---