Page 6 of Dirty Billionaire

He might be eight years older than my forty-one years, but his body sure doesn’t show it. Ward has one of those powerful jawlines, well-defined abs, and towers over me with wide, confident shoulders.

This isn’t the first time we’ve seen each other since, and it won’t be the last. We dance around each other, his broodingstares burning me from across the room, his deep whisky-sounding voice sending shivers through me when he’s nearby.

I shudder now in anticipation.

“I’m going to work from home, then head to the event from there,” I tell Jenny.

“Okay, have fun. I’ll sort out the CluckaDales.” She disappears and leaves me to my thoughts.

I don’t know why I can’t move on from the sexy billionaire. Well, apart from the fact I’ve never orgasmed so hard in my life.

Do I want another night with him?

When I learned that his wife had died years before, it explained why he ghosted me after our night together. If that makes me sound clingy, I make no apologies. I’m not a one-night type of woman.

When we met, there was immediate chemistry, and our conversation cemented it. Ward is charming and intelligent.

When he asked me to leave with him, it was not a hard decision.

We went to my place, and I thought he made that choice for my comfort.

If we’d both been younger, I might have considered he was a man after a quick fuck, but Ward Montgomery is a charming, successful, and respected man in our society.

I never once thought he would take what he wanted, then I would never hear from him again.

I wasn’t left wanting, not at all. He thoroughly pleasured every inch of my body. Even my toes were buzzing for days.

That man and his mouth...

So, while I waited to hear from him and slowly realized my mistake, I was filled with a range of emotions. Shame for being so stupid. Disappointment because Ward is an incredible man, and I’d been so attracted to him. Anger at him for not beingmore honest about his intentions. Last, I was annoyed with myself for being naïve.

Apparently, I didn’t learn my lesson.

Ward got my number and called me a month ago.

“Penelope.” The timbre of his voice and surprise at hearing from him had almost made me drop the phone.

“Hi,” I’d replied. While I waited for him to speak again, I’d bitten my lip. The silence had felt heavy and thick with opportunity and questions.

“Believe it or not, I used to be quite charming.” I’d heard the smile in his deep voice.

I wanted to tell him he was. That he’d taken my breath away with his beautiful, steely blue eyes and intoxicating presence. How his large hand had led me where he wanted me—in and out of the bedroom—and I shivered even now at the thought of his heavy roped cock.

“I don’t need to be charmed, Ward,” I’d whispered.

But I did need more of what he had done to me. Much more. More orgasms, more of his mouth and more access to his powerful body so I could run my hands over his hard edges.

“What is it that you want, Penelope?” he asked.

Perhaps I should have launched into a speech about how I’d not heard from him in months after our night together and calling me for a booty call was out of order.

How I was looking for a meaningful relationship. That in hindsight, we weren’t suited. He’d had his children. I wanted a baby and while at my age, it was unlikely, it wasn’t impossible.

With a man who also wanted the same thing.

I didn’t have to ask Ward if he did. He had four children, grandchildren, and was a widower.

I was the one with expectations that were unreasonable.

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