Page 72 of The Billionaires' Prize

When what I want is to be bound toher.

“No. I don’t want to be out of it, Wildfire. I just. . .”

She presses a soft kiss against my lips as if she’s trying not to spook me. My heart races in my chest. She’s right to treat me like a wild animal that needs calming.

“Whatever it is, you’re still going to be mine,” she whispers.

There’s a fierceness in her tone that sends my pulse racing. She’s claiming me. Full stop. Zero hesitation.

“We’ll work it out. I promise. Together. No going back.”

“No going back,” I agree.

We sit in silence for a few minutes. Long, quiet, easy minutes. But my thoughts veer again. What about Gabe and Alex? This relationship they’ve started is tied to New York.

“You’re spiraling, aren’t you?” She tips her forehead against my temple.

“You know me too well.”

“I try.”

She really does. No matter where I am in the world, she checks in with me. Always knows my location. Sends me endless texts and memes and GIFs and funny videos of cats doing gymnastics better than me.

Every time she sees the word ‘king’ somewhere in the wild, she takes a picture and sends it to let me know she’s thinking of me.

My stomach growls, and her husky laugh fills the humid air.

“You’re always hungry.”

“I’m a growing boy.”

“Come on. Let me feed you.”

I groan. “You’ll givesomeoneideas.”

I give a playful thrust of my hips, and she giggles again.

“He always has ideas.”

Standing, I let her slide down my body. Stupid clothes getting in the way.

“You’re not wrong.”

I give her a little swat on the tush and then turn the shower off. Stepping out onto the bath rug, I reach for a towel and drape it over her shoulders. Her body is the perfect combination of curvy and lean. Grabbing another towel, I bend down and dry her legs, kissing her as I go.

She puts a hand on my shoulder to steady herself. “Now you’re giving me ideas.”

As much as I want to spin her against the counter and dive between her legs, this feels like one of those times when I needto make sure she’s in the right headspace. Putting my desires on the back burner is easy when I remember how her shoulders were hunched and her chest heaved as she told me about her mother almost hugging her.

So I continue drying up all the water droplets clinging to her perfect skin.

She’s the only thing that matters at the moment. Once her hair is swept up in a towel, I hold out her robe.

You’d think I’d handed her the moon, the way she smiles up at me.

As soon as she slips her arms into it, I tug it closed and wrap my arms around her waist.

“You know I can dry myself,” she muses.

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