Page 97 of Forking the Billionaire

And what about me? Did he see me like his other projects in need of his special brand of rehab?

I watched him run and jump off one wall only to climb up onto an open second story room. He sat on the ledge, legs dangling, looking over the world around him as if it were a conquerable field of battle.

Everything he wanted could be his. That’s what he saw. Of course he’d feel that way. He’d become a freaking billionaire when he inherited a third of his father’s empire.

That was nothing like how I saw my world. If anything, this week proved that nothing I wanted could be mine.

Jasper didn’t have to compromise his dreams. I had to figure out new dreams, because there was no amount of distance from my brother that would change our relationship.

Jasper and I had grown far apart compared to our shared beginnings.

“After you get exactly what you want, everything always works out for you,” I said, half in question.

He chuckled and looked at me with a mixture of emotion I couldn’t decipher behind his eyes. He hopped back down and smiled at me with so much warmth that it felt like our differences didn’t matter at all.

“Not at all,” he said. “But that doesn’t stop me from trying.”

I took his hand and led him inside the ruins, and then I kissed him. Maybe because I wanted some of his easy, happy way of seeing the world to rub off on me. Or maybe because when he was touching me it was the one time my worries faded away. Or maybe it was simply that I couldn’t help myself.

He kissed me back. Quickly we delved deeper into each other, tongues entwined, hands exploring.

How could someone be so familiar yet so foreign to me? And the fact that he was the one person I shouldn’t go after made him all the more irresistible.

He broke our kiss long enough to pull off his shirt and drop it on a tabletop, covering the filthy surface, then lifted me up onto it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I wrapped my legs around him because that felt equally natural.

This time, there wasn’t anyone waiting for us. It wasn’t a stolen moment in a bathroom stall. This time, Jasper lazily explored my neck and breasts and stomach with his lips and tongue. This time, I traced his tattoos with my finger in the moonlight, committing each new shape to memory.

And when he touched my clit and pressed his cock inside of me, it felt like coming home was meant to feel. He didn’t make any empty promises. We just were. It felt like we were supposed to be just like this, always.

TWENTY-FIVE

JASPER

Before I could finish pulling my shirt down, Esme poked me in the chest.

“What’s this?” she asked.

I looked down at the spot her finger lingered over my ribs. It was such a simple touch, after the two of us had just been all over each other, and yet that small touch still made my skin heat with a fresh surge of awareness.

She was pointing to the spiked wave tattoo. I said, “That’s a wave.”

“Duh. It’s not a normal wave though. What do the spikes mean?”

Always so perceptive. “They’re shaped like the unique nails I pull from my projects.”

“You put nails on a wave when you complete a house restoration?”

“Yep.”

“That’s a lot of spikes.”

“I’ve restored a lot of homes.”

“Can you tell them apart? Or do they all blend together?”

“I can tell.”

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