Page 41 of The Billionaires' Prize

I melt a little.

He nods and lifts my wrist for another bite of pizza. His forearms are tan with a smattering of black hair, but it’s those long, blunt-tipped fingers have the power to make me lose my train of thought.

“That’s because I am,” I admit, the truth settling in my chest. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this content before. Leaning into Alex, nomming on yummy pizza, Gabe and King narrating a hockey game in the background. . . my apartment is full. Cozy and intimate and wonderful.

My father and brother are die-hard hockey fans. They love other sports as well, anything outdoorsy or competitive, really. This is a facet of Gabriel Rothburn I didn’t see coming. Which I’m sure delights Kingston because my interest in sports leans more toward ice dancing and gymnastics.

“Nah, man. No way! You’re wrong,” King says, waving his fork around, a cherry tomato teetering on the tines.

I look around for napkins and don’t see a single one. Shocker.

Alex and I get up at the same time.

“What do you need? I’ll get it,” I say, striding around the couch. When I turn back, he’s hot on my heels. Big, silent, stealthy. How does he manage it?

“What would you like to drink?” he asks, and surprise makes me stumble a step.

His hand shoots out to cup my elbow, steadying me. I’m not used to being taken care of. There’s a difference between growing up surrounded by staff and having someone in your corner. Someone who wants to make sure you’re fed and hydrated, not because it’s their job, but because they care.

I huff a laugh and step deeper into the kitchen. “I can get it,” I tell him as I open a drawer where I keep a small tray of napkins.

The instant I close the drawer, I feel Alex’s heat surround me. He steps in close, the spice of his cologne teasing my nose. A big hand appears on either side of me, braced against the edge of the countertop.

“Missed you,” he murmurs, nuzzling the back of my head.

Oh god. Yes.

A shiver tingles up my spine and into my scalp.

I want him to miss me. It’s human nature to be desired. To be missed. But this is more. A bone-deep ache I can’t even put it into words. Instead, I stand rooted to the floor, shivering with need.

“I missed you too.”

“Six hours,” he mutters, as if it’s an offensive amount of time. “What the hell have you done to me, Katie Bird? I can’t be without you for six hours.”

I lean into him, his powerful body holding me upright, and trail my hands up his forearms. He changed into a suit and apparently came straight from his meeting because his jacket has been discarded and his shirt sleeves rolled up.

It’s decadent to touch him like this. Tracing my fingertips over his veins. I press my head back against him, nestling into his hold.

“Same.”

A low sound rumbles from his chest, and he presses a palm over my lower belly. That’s all it takes to make me wet again. I’m still blissed out, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting him.

“Are you still dripping with our best friends’ cum?”

His naughty words are a gasoline to the fire. Heat scorches my cheeks, down my shoulders and across my skin. I like it. I like how unvarnished and real he is. I like how he says exactly what he’s thinking. But mostly, I like how my body softens and readies itself for him.

“Yes.”

“How many times did they make you come while I was gone?”

I tremble in his hold. There’s no judgment in his voice, just genuine curiosity.

Is it really possible that they’re all okay with this. . . whatever this is? That they all want me like I want them? Maybe I shouldstop second-guessing it, but you know what they say when something seems too good to be true.

“I lost count,” I admit, my body still humming from all the orgasms.

He works his fingers beneath my clothing as if he’s been practicing his whole life and traces lazy shapes against my skin. “Good.”

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