Page 18 of The Billionaire's Buy-In

Yes. I want him.

I want him with an intensity that shocks me. Despite his questionable morals and controlling personality, I want him to be mine.

Am I okay with his dominance? His reputation? Yes, I’m okay with both. More than okay. He wouldn’t be the man he is without those things, and that’s the man I think I love.

I smile as the realization dawns. Finally, it’s as if the clouds have cleared, and I’m thinking clearly. The bitterness over the events of last weekend disappears as I acknowledge that I actually want to belong to someone who can own my body with his touch, yet treat me like I’m the center of his universe as well as his slutty “firecracker” in the bedroom. There’s only one man who can do those things for me and it’s Chord Gallo.

With a renewed sense of conviction and a goal to achieve, I know I need a plan of action. I need to tell him how I feel to get him back to where we were before I found the damned coin.

Again, I have to strategize.

Maybe I need to call in reinforcements?

Chapter 13

Chord

We have a problem. Get your ass to the basement.

Myphonepingswiththe incoming text from Ryker. I sigh in frustration. What the fuck? Can this place not go a damned hour without me having to deal with some perceived emergency? I reply.

I’m on my way. This fucking better be good.

“You look like shit, my friend,” Ty gives me a concerned look over the table. We’re sitting in the bar overlooking the casino floor. His team has a buy weekend, and his wife is working on her college classes. This means he’s entertaining himself with Ash and me.

Yeah, Grace has college classes. I snort in my glass because apparently, we like them young. Ty and I both fell in love with girls barely out of their teens. Guess that makes us creepy old men. Granted, he doesn’t know about my obsession with his wife’s best friend and I’m not about to tell him right now. Some things are better kept a secret.

“Yep, too many late nights, not enough sleep.” I shoot a warning glance at Ash, letting him know to keep his mouth shut. He smirks, but doesn’t say a word. Smart man.

Tonight, I’m functioning on fumes, which is obvious by the dark circles under my eyes. It’s been a week since I’ve seen my firecracker. All I want to do is stalk her, find her, and fuck her into submission. Controlling my urge to bulldoze my way into her life and making her stay at my side is taking everything out of me. I’m not functioning in my day-to-day life, but I’m trying to be a better man and this takes more effort than being an asshole. Normally, I don’t wait for anyone, but I know in my heart Abbie is worth the wait.

The small box with the diamond solitaire is burning a hole in my pocket. The damned ring belongs on her finger, not in my pocket as a painful reminder of my faults.

Thinking of Abbie, I flash back to our one night together. In my mind, I see my cock slamming into her tight, wet pussy, and her screaming my name as she comes. Knowing I was the first man to claim her innocence gives me a heady sense of power and satisfaction.

Great. Now, I’m so damn hard, I could break rocks.

For the first time in my life, I’m not sure what to do. I’m in a holding pattern. I messed up, and I owned it. Now, I just have to get her back.

“I gotta go. Duty calls.” I stand, pocketing my phone. “Go win something, earn your comps.” With a wink and a nod in their direction, I make my way through the maze of tables and slots to meet up with Ryker.

Hopefully, I’ll take my aggression out on some poor, miserable soul tonight. Being a better man is overrated. The anticipation of landing body blows and hearing the crunch of bones breaking is almost enough to make me smile in anticipation. Nothing like the smell of blood, sweat, and fear to cheer me up.

As I approach the steel door in the basement, I put on my best poker face and swing it open, fully prepared to mess someone up tonight. They picked the wrong place and the wrong time to fuck with me.

Instead of seeing some sniveling victim tied to a chair, the first thing to greet me is a set of familiar toned legs with fuck-me gold heels, showcasing muscular feminine calves, leading to luscious, creamy thighs.

I know those thighs. I know those legs. A week ago, I had them wrapped around my head.

Closing the door, I click the lock into place, and let my eyes soak in the rest of the beauty sitting in front of me.

She has onthedress, the sexy-as-hell gold chain mail dress and those killer heels. I groan, as my appreciative gaze travels slowly up the length of her body, taking in her curvy hips, her perky breasts, and the mouth-watering cleavage visible above of her golden suit of armor. Because that’s exactly what she’s wearing. Abbie’s returned to me, and she’s dressed to do battle.

Well-played, firecracker.

God, my cock’s weeping with pre-cum in reverence of how damn sexy she looks perched on the table like a fucking trophy. Like a dangerously seductive siren trying to entice me with her charms, she eases her legs apart, giving me a tantalizing glimpse of her pink pussy and the fact she’s not wearing any panties. I still haven’t met her eyes because I’m enjoying the anticipation, drawing out the suspense. Eventually, I allow my eyes to meet hers after appreciating all she’s put on display.

She’s not fazed by my cool appraisal.

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