Page 30 of Marrying the Billionaire Single Dad
"Orgasm," I blurt out.
He pauses.
"At least let me come, please?" I curl my fingers at my sides.
He angles his body. "So," he drums his fingers on his chest, "you want me to give you permission to achieve satisfaction?"
Asshole's gloating, but whatever, as long as I can somehow relieve this burning, clawing sensation in my center. I jerk my chin in his direction and his eyes gleam.
"On one condition," he purrs.
"What?"
"You accept my proposition."
"A…a hundred thousand pounds for every day I spend with you?"
"Which would come down to, normally, an hour a day, which is all I can spare." He nods his head toward the house. “Occasionally, it might be more.”
Of course, he has to take care of his daughter.
"No Sundays, though," he adds. "I have a full schedule on Sundays and won't have time for—" he gestures to the space between us.
"Wouldn’t it be easier to simply have a trial period for me as the nanny for your daughter—?"
"No." He straightens. "Take it or leave it."
He turns to go.
I call out, "Wait."
He pauses.
"For how long?"
He angles his body, glares at me over his shoulder, "Until New Year's Eve."
"That’s…"
"Today’s December 26th… Boxing Day," he reminds me.
"I know," I snap. "That’s five days?"
"Six including today."
"So, six hours?"
"More or less."
"How many…orgasms is that?"
"That’s for you to lose track of." He laughs.
"And you’ll pay me for each day?"
"Of course."
"You sure you can afford it?" I frown. He’s not poor, but he’s going through a rocky patch in his career… Well, okay, this is also me making conversation so I can buy myself some time.
