Page 22 of The Carver

A sexy chuckle came from his lips. “A dime is a thousand euros, so ten thousand euros.”

“Why gamble when you’re a billionaire?”

“It’s not about the money but taking money from my boys. I’m a sick fuck like that.” He had me cradled into him, my body propped against his hard torso, my cheek on his neck.

When I’d worked as a bartender, I had nowhere to be in the morning, and now I missed that. I didn’t have to wake up to an alarm clock and rush out of his house to get to work. I could take my time, have some pancakes and dick before I went home. “I borrowed your boxers…hope you don’t mind.”

I knew he smirked because it was audible in his voice. “You can keep them as long as I get to keep your panties next time.”

“What are you going to do with them?”

“That’s my business.” He started to get up, and like I was a child who’d fallen asleep in front of the TV, he scooped me up and carried me to bed. Instead of throwing me on the bed the way he did when we were in the heat of the moment, he gently laid me on my side before he dropped his sweatpants, turned off the lights, and joined me under the sheets.

I propped myself up and waited for him to put his phone on the nightstand and get into bed, eager to take my favorite spot—tucked into his side.

His smirk was visible in the dark as he got into bed beside me, opening his arms to accept me against him.

My cheek went to his chest, my leg between his knees, my arm draped over his hard stomach. My apartment was usually cold, so I slept in pants and a sweater because the bedding wasn’t enough to keep me warm. I didn’t have that problem in this palace, with a man who acted as a furnace, the floors warm from the radiant heat.

I’d never snuggled with Adrien. We always slept on our opposite sides of the bed once our bodies were untangled. We were affectionate in other ways, but cuddling wasn’t something we did. His breaths distracted me and I was uncomfortable in some way, but Bastien felt like my favorite pillow.

He lightly trailed his fingers down my back, like he wasn’t ready to sleep just yet. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” His deep voice was like a purr in the dark, an invisible comfort that made me feel the safest I ever had.

“Goodnight.”

Chapter 4

Bastien

Luca sat with me in the back seat of the SUV, driving through the wet streets of Paris until we hit the outskirts where the warehouse was located. His window was cracked so he could enjoy his cigar. “So…how are things with Fleur?”

I rarely mentioned her to Luca and the other guys. Not to hide my relationship, but because I didn’t want to listen to any bullshit about it. “We worked it out.”

“You did?” He tapped his finger against the cigar so the ash flew away on the air.

“She came back on her hands and knees.”

He smirked. “That sounds like one hell of an apology.”

“Something like that,” I said. “Still thinks I’m mad at her.”

“Why are you mad at her?”

“I’m not—just want her to think I am.”

He turned away from the window to look at me. “I thought you didn’t play games.”

“She played games with me first,” I said. “It’s called payback.”

“So, youarestill mad.”

“No,” I said with a smile. “Just enjoying watching her make it up to me.”

Luca gave a slight nod in understanding. “That does sound fun.”

“How are things with Diana?”

“There’s nothing going on with Diana.”

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