Page 91 of The Billionaires' Prize

I shift, leaning closer to him, and slide a hand up his thigh. His muscles tense beneath my palm, and he traps my fingers beneath his.

“Not now. Not here. But later. As much as I love the idea of my cum dripping down your thighs, I don’t know that I could convince you to go downstairs and act like nothing happened.”

His words make me tingle all over. His eyes are shadowed, but I feel his attention like a caress. Across my breasts, my nipples, lower across my belly before it stops at the juncture of my thighs.

“Your blush would give you away, wouldn’t it? That, and your sexy little ass squirming around on my mother’s fancy dining chairs. You’d leave a wet spot.”

“Kingston!”

He was right to call me wildfire because right now, my skin feels like it could start a blaze of epic proportions.

“Too much?”

Is it? It’s not anything I haven’t heard before. Maybe not from him and not directed toward me, but his raw honesty is delicious. More than that, it’s contagious.

I shake my head. “Just right.”

He gives a low growl, the planes of his chest rising as he sucks in and holds a breath. Then, after a shaky exhale, he murmurs, “Later, I’m going to strip you out of that preppy little cardigan and peel off this gorgeous dress.”

I like the sound of that and moan my agreement.

“Then I’m going to replace that toy with my cock and make you come again.” He closes the distance to my ear, and I shiver as he whispers, “And you won’t have to stay quiet.”

I squeeze his thigh because I’m totally on board with his plan. Just as soon as I can walk again.

25

KINGSTON/ALEX

KINGSTON

Kingston

Momma fixed one of Katherine’s favorites for dessert. Salted caramel tiramisu. I love that Momma still muscles her way past their chef to bake her favorite things.

Katherine’s smile is worth it. It’s worth everything.

“This looks amazing.” She waves her hand over the plate, wafting the scent toward her. “Oh my god. And it smells amazing.”

She’s not wrong. I spear a forkful and shove it into my mouth, stifling a groan.

“Mom’s still got it.”

Katherine’s blissed out on chocolate and caramel when my father finally drops the bomb. But not the one I was waiting for.

“So when are you going to leave banking behind and come work for us?” he asks.

Katherine puts her fork down, wipes her mouth, and gives a light laugh. “Don’t tempt me.”

There’s a mile of truth and pain in those three little words, but it’s the exhaustion beneath them that makes me want to physically drag her away from Chanler & Cort.

“I don’t think they’re joking, Wildfire,” I say under my breath and wave off the butler, who offers to refill my glass. We’re winding down, and I want a clear head for this conversation.

“Of course, we’re not joking.”

Puzzlement and curiosity flicker across Katherine’s face. She really is tempted. Would I love for her to work in my family’s company? Absolutely. And yes, I see the irony of me wanting nothing—okay, almost nothing—to do with the business while pushing for her to join the team.

But she’s talented in ways that I’m not. She doesn’t have my hangups. She doesn’t cringe every time she sees a spreadsheet. My business-minded brainiac.

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