Page 125 of The Billion Heirs Boxed Set
She nods and licks her lips.
“Good girl.” I steer her to the truck so I can get us to her place. To give us both more of what we need.
6
SADIE
I don’t know what it is about Miles that’s different from other guys I dated.
No, actually, I do.
He’s more attractive. More protective. More possessive. Sitting beside me in the booth, he angled his body toward me as if I were the only person he cared about. His size pretty much blocked out the restaurant and I felt like we were alone. As if I were the only thing he saw. His touches were tame, but they heated my skin. My shoulder, the line of my neck. The top of my thigh.
Then there was the way he dealt with that sleazeball in the back hallway. I saw the anger and darkness in his gaze directed solely at the drunk guy who cornered me. But his words weren’t harsh or mean. In fact, he thanked the guy. Of course, his tone was sarcastic and he gave him a little nudge into the wall, but he was so big and brawny in comparison that he could have beat the shit out of him if he wanted to.
I appreciated his not causing a scene or ruining our night. I’d have dwelled on it if it became a fight. Instead, he took my hand, steered me away, and kissed me.
We don’t say anything on the ride to my place. Maybe it’s on purpose, but maybe it’s because there’s some kind of heated spell cast over us. As if dinner was foreplay and the anticipation only built and made me hotter. Needier. Wetter.
When we reach my place, he takes the keys and opens the door for me. If it were any other guy, I’d think he was being a misogynistic asshole—of course I can use a set of keys!—but Miles makes me feel like he’s taking care of me.
Again.
I flip the switch to light the lamp next to my sofa.
My apartment seems smaller with him in it. I swallow at the look in his eye. The heat. I remember his hands on me the night before, but it was quick and I was worried about being discovered. Dripping on his fingers because it was daring and because he was so freaking skilled.
I want more of that. Now.
“Wearing panties, sweetheart?” He shuts the front door with his foot.
I nod.
“That’s good. I want that pussy covered when there’s a chance another man might see it.”
My mouth drops open at his possessiveness.
“Bossy much?” I arch my eyebrow.
He grunts and pushes off the door and settles himself on my sofa.
With a quick curl of his finger, he beckons me.
I follow because I want what he’s offering.
He pushes the coffee table back a few inches, allowing me room to stand in front of him. He hooks a big hand around my waist and pulls me between his spread knees.
This is my apartment, and he’s the one who’s settled and content.
He holds out his hand, palm up. The corner of his mouth turns up as he waits.
I reach beneath my skirt, shimmy my panties down my legs, and give them to him.
“They’re damp. You all wet for me, sweetheart?”
Warmth spreads across my cheeks. Of course he points out the wetness. It’s not a poke at me, but blatant proof of how virile I find him. My body craves him.
“Miles,” I whisper.
