Page 52 of If You Give a Billionaire a Bride

Harrison shakes his head. “No, you haven’t. Enough about me. How are things going with Everly?” he asks, changing the subject.

“Oh, they’re going great,” I say sarcastically. “We just moved in together, and she’s already thrown multiple pillows at my head.”

Harrison smiles. “Sounds like marital bliss to me.”

“I did learn that she has a weak spot for home-cooked meals,” I say.

“You can’t cook,” Harrison states.

“Okay, fine,home-cookedis a stretch,” I confess with a shrug. “But I plate the dishes, which is pretty impressive.” My tone is teasing. “I contacted Fallon, Theo’s protégé, when we returned to London. A few years ago, she ventured out on her own and now works as a private chef. She preps our dinners, and I pick them up at her pop-up shop on my way home from work.”

Harrison gives me a slow clap. “I’m impressed, little brother. Have any of Theo’s other students moved to New York? My chef, Steve, is retiring, and I’m looking to replace him in the fall.”

“Fallon told me she’s moving to New York City soon. She might be interested in the position. I’m not sure if she has a set clientele yet, but I’ll ask her.”

He gives me an amused shake of the head. “It sounds like this scheme of yours has an expiration date. You better brush up on your cooking skills, or you’ll have some serious explaining to do when your gourmet meals start to come out of the oven as bricks of charcoal.”

“The acquisition will most likely be finalized by then, won’t it?” I ask wearily.

“Yeah. As long as there are no major roadblocks, it should be finalized in the next month or two.”

“Right, so Everly and I won’t be together anymore.”

A sinking feeling settles in my stomach when I envision returning to my life from a week ago. So much has changed, and the more time I spend with Everly, the harder it’ll be to say goodbye when the time comes.

“Are you still planning on getting divorced after the deal closes?” Harrison asks.

“That’s what Every and I agreed on,” I say, keeping my answer vague.

He furrows his brow. “Just don’t make any more rash decisions, alright?”

“Yeah, okay,” I say as I bring up my email on my second monitor, determined to make today productive—though I can’t help but wonder, where’s the fun in that?

My focus in the short term is to make Everly smile every day and keep her as happy with our arrangement as I can, given the circumstances.

She’s the most important thing in my life right now, and I’ll do everything I can to make her see that.

That night, I’m roused from sleep by uncontrollable need. My hard cock presses against my boxers, pulsing with desire for the woman next to me. I glance at the clock on the nightstand and groan when I see it’s only 3:17 a.m.

I rarely wake up with morning wood in the middle of the night, but I’m only human. It’s impossible to control my innate reaction to Everly’s warm body wrapped around me like a cocoon, wearing nothing but a tank top and skimpy shorts.

The moon’s silver light shines through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the darkened room. Everly is snuggled against me, her leg draped over my hip and her head resting on my bare chest. My arm circles her waist, and my hand rests on her skin where her tank top has lifted.

I use my free hand to adjust myself, careful not to disturb her.

I go still when she shifts, her thigh brushing against my dick. She mumbles incoherently, and my eyes widen when she grinds against my leg, her breasts rubbing against my bare chest as she moves against me in a steady rhythm.

My cock jerks when her moans fill the room as she rides my leg. It seems I’m not the only one who woke up sexually frustrated. I stifle a groan when Everly picks up her pace, heat from her body radiating through the fabric between us.

From this angle, I can’t see her face. I assume she’s too embarrassed to look at me, but she shouldn’t be. I’m just as affected by her.

She digs her nails into my arm. “Cash,” she moans.

“Everly?” I whisper.

I tighten my hold on her, afraid to say anything else and ruin the moment. When she clenches around my leg, I press my thigh against her core, giving her the pressure she’s searching for. My hand wanders to her stomach, and as my fingers reach her lace panties, she tips her head back with a low groan, giving me an unobstructed view of her face in the dim light.

Her lips are parted, and disappointment consumes me when I see her eyes are shut.

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