Page 81 of The Billionaires' Prize

“I’ll message you when we’re ready,” I say, stepping out of my shoes.

I drop my bag off in my office and make a beeline to my closet.

Kingston’s exiting my bathroom, utterly lickable in a Polo and slacks with loafers. God. He makes me wet just looking at him.

“Wildfire.” His smile is immediate and radiant as he sweeps me into a hug.

Arms around his shoulders, I sink against him, letting my shoes drop to the floor behind him.

Lifting me off my feet, he spins me around.

I laugh, clinging to him as my feet dangle. “I’d say you’re in a good mood, but you’re always in a good mood.”

“I’m in a great mood. You’re home from work. We’re having dinner with my parents. I went shopping today.”

He’s so joyful. It’s impossible to be upset with him about the way he outed my toy collection to Gabe last night. There’s not a malicious bone in his honed body. He just wanted to share the fun because that’s who he is. And sometimes, he lacks a filter.

We talked it out last night, which was almost as embarrassing as him telling Gabe in the first place. King promised he hadn’t been snooping when he found them.

I believe him.

Even so, it was hard to wrap my mind around. Even now, the back of my neck is hot.

He knew about my vibrators. I’ve been on a quest to find the perfect one, so it’s quite the collection.

Did he touch them?

I shake the worry away because this is Kingston. He’s bought me tampons before and held my hair back after one too many flutes of champagne.

“For someone who doesn’t care for money, you sure do have a shopping addiction,” I tease.

He’s actually a minimalist when it comes to himself. With me. . . not so much. Half the shoes in my closet are thanks to him and his adventures in Europe.

“I got you a present.”

“Does it come in a cereal box?”

His laugh is husky and delights my nerve endings. “No.”

He puts my feet back on the ground and turns me toward the bathroom. There’s something on the vanity.

I close the distance, trepidation twisting my stomach. “You got me a vibrator?”

It’s dark pink, velvety soft, and sort of C-shaped. Like part of it will go inside, and the other part will tease my clit.

As I’m turning it over in my hand, it starts to buzz. Startled, I almost drop it.

“What’d I touch?” I don’t see any buttons.

King slides his phone across the counter and there’s a big round button in the middle of the screen, lit up in green. There’s a slider across the top with a wavy line.

“It’s remote-controlled. Or Bluetooth, I guess.”

He peers over my shoulder, his heat surrounding me.

Excitement fizzes through my veins. But just as quickly, it clashes with uncertainty.

I’m oh-so-aware that I have nothing like this in my collection. Why would I? I’ve never had someone in my life that I’d trust to turn me on in public like this.

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