Page 29 of The Billionaire Submissive
The off-white carpet probably wasn’t either, because the cherry pie on the floor resembled a horrendous murder scene.
The lady who’d created such a mess was sprawled sideways in his bed. Her hair had driven him nuts, tickling his nose and getting in his mouth every time he rolled over. She was a blanket thief and bed hog and slept like the dead.
And he’d never been happier in his life.
Grinning, he returned to the kitchen and poured a cup of freshly brewed coffee. He wasn’t sure what she liked for breakfast and he certainly wasn’t Dmitri, but he had toast, fresh fruit and scrambled eggs on a tray for her.
He sat on the edge of the bed by her head. “Good morning, sweetheart. I thought we’d get an early start for Lake Minnetonka today. I want to take you out on my boat.”
Nothing. Not a blink, not a groan, not even a twitch. He set the tray on the bedside table and threw open the curtains, letting bright sunlight stream in.
“Fucking bastard,” she growled, drawing a blanket over her head. “Go away.”
“The sooner we get to the lake house, the sooner I can take you out on the boat.”
“I fucking hate boats. What time is it?”
“Six.”
“What kind of motherfucking sicko bastard gets up at fucking 6:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning to get on a fucking boat?”
She said she wasn’t a morning person, but damn. This is extreme.“Evidently this one. But I never fucked my mother. Just you.”
He tugged the blanket down off her head and she shrieked. “Don’t look at me! My hair’s a mess in the morning!”
She clutched at the blanket but he dragged it completely off the bed, leaving her drawn up in a ball in the middle, still in the sexy red corset. How the hell had she managed to sleep in it? The material was twisted around and halfway down her waist. Groaning like she was dying, she finally managed to sit up. Her hair frizzed out in all directions like she’d stuck a finger in the light socket and he was pretty sure the knotted mess on the side of her head was a smashed-up cherry. Yet when she caught him looking at her, she couldn’t care less about her breasts hanging out of her top. She was too worried about trying to smash down her hair.
Fighting to keep a straight face, he said, “It’s not that bad. I’ve seen worse.”
“Ugh. I hate you. I hate sunlight. I hate mornings. I hate everything until I’ve had a fucking cup of coffee. Why—?”
Solemnly—despite his twitching lips—he offered the steaming cup. “I hate you too, sweetheart. Last night was awful. Horrible. Nightmare inducing. I’ll never be the same.”
Huddled around the cup like it was her last precious lump of coal on a wintry snowy day, she finally cracked a smile. “Yeah, it was pretty damned good, wasn’t it?”
“No, it was great.” Actually, great didn’t even come close to what he’d felt last night. She’d given him everything he’d ever dreamed about and a million more he hadn’t even dared hope for.And this is just the beginning.
Awed, humbled, and yeah, a little scared of the intensity of his attachment to her already, he changed the subject. “If you can’t cook, how do you do coffee?”
“I have a pod machine and a thing called a coffee shop. Have you heard of it?”
“For shame.” He let horror twist his face. “A pod machine doesn’t producecoffee. That’s merely brown water. Now this is a cup of coffee, freshly ground Jamaican Blue Mountain brewed to perfection.”
“In a pot that probably cost more than my car.”
He smiled. “Guilty as charged. Do you want to take a shower now or when we get to the lake house?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I can’t go anywhere looking like this. I don’t even have any clothes other than my dress and that’s the last thing I feel like putting on at six on a too-fucking-bright Saturday morning when I’m supposed to be sleeping for another four or five hours.”
“You can sleep in the car on the way, or on the boat. Hop in the shower and I’ll rustle you up some clothes.”
She narrowed a glare on him that made every single tender spot she’d left on his body sit up at full attention. “You will not give me some other woman’s clothes you might have lying around.”
She assumed he’d had a string of women in and out of his bed who’d just happened to leave their wardrobes behind? Stiffly, he stood up to give her some privacy. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Still suspicious, she tugged and worked the corset around so she could unsnap the front. Watching her, his momentary irritation faded away. Her luscious breasts swayed, making his mouth water.Maybe she’s right. We should just stay in bed this morning. We can hit the lake house later…
“Don’t even think about it,” she retorted fiercely, but the light in her eyes and the reluctant curve of her lips told him her mood was improving. “I’m a stinky, tangled-up mess with wretched morning breath. And I’m sorry I offended you. I know you better than that now.”
