Page 37 of Marrying the Billionaire Single Dad
"Including you?"
"Never." I snicker. "A little too sappy for my liking."
"So, you prefer not to face your emotions, huh?"
"And you?" I close the distance between us. "Do you ever face your feelings?"
"All the time." His features close. "Every fucking time I think I’ve found peace, something happens that reminds me how everything can change in the blink of an eye."
"Is that why you think money can buy everything?"
"Doesn't it?"
I twist my fingers together, wanting to deny it, but hell if, he doesn't have me there. One million pounds per day for six days. OMG, OMG. My heart begins to thud and my pulse rate ratchets up. That's... Way more money than I thought I’d see in my life... Ever. It is... A lifechanging amount.
I lick my lips, and he locks his gaze onto my mouth, "Open."
"What—"
He shoves his thumb inside my mouth. "Suck on it," he orders.
I swallow, my nipples harden, the flesh between my legs buzzes with anticipation, with recklessness, with need… A gnawing something opens up low in my belly. I close my lips around his digit, suck on it. I swirl my tongue around the pad of his thumb, absorb the salty taste of him. The dark edginess that sinks into my blood heads straight for that churning, yearning pit that gnaws at my core.
His chest rises and falls; his nostrils flare. He presses down on my lower lip, and I open my mouth. He inserts his thumb deeper inside. I swallow. His breathing grows ragged; a bead of sweat slides down his throat along the demarcation between his sculpted pecs. Moisture pools between my thighs. A moan bleeds from me… Needy, wanting… A kind of hunger I’ve never faced before… Will never again.
Holy hell, what kind of draw does this man…this almost-stranger have on me? He’s barely touched me and I am ready to self-combust.
He draws out his thumb, then brings it to his mouth and sucks on it. He drags his digit across his lower lip and I can’t stop the groan that spills from my throat.
His lips kick up in a smile. He wipes his finger across the fabric of his pants. "You’ll do nicely."
Turning, he heads for the exit.
I stare after him. What the bloody hell—how dare he? Had he…? "Don’t you leave," I cry. "Not again." I curl my fingers at my sides. How had I let myself be taken in, all over again? "Damian, you bastard—"
He pivots, prowls over to me.
My heart begins to thud, my pulse races, and the flesh between my thighs clenches. He holds out his hand. "Give it to me," he demands.
"Wh…what?"
"Your phone." He curls his lips. "What did you think?"
"I will not."
"Either you give it to me or I take it. Your choice."
Anger thuds at my temples and something very close to hate crawls up my spine. "Just because you’re bigger than me, don’t think you can bully me."
"Bully you?" He laughs. "I haven’t even started, sweetheart." He crooks his fingers, "Don’t keep me waiting, doll."
I frown.
"Your phone." He bends his knees, peers into my face. "Now," his voice lowers to a hush, the dark edge of his tone sinking into my blood. My belly trembles. My scalp tingles. I pull out my phone, hold it out to him.
"Unlock it."
"You mean you don’t know my password?"
