Page 11 of My Boss is a Billionaire

A man I want to have sex with again because one thing is certain—my body has never felt so alive, so pleasured, and so eager for more. The sex was phenomenal.

Maybe I don’t have enough to compare it to? A girl could hope. Unfortunately, I’m old enough and smart enough to know that not all men are sex gods in bed. And if you can find one, you should hang onto him.

There were moments of uninhibited pleasure that left me weak and trembling. I can’t wait to do it again.

No! No, I can’t let it happen again.

A stream of sunlight is coming through the curtains, spreading across the hotel room. I can hear mumbled voices of people walking down the hall, getting louder as they near this room and then fading again as they pass.

I need to get out of here.

I lift the covers and slip from the bed as quietly as possible. He doesn’t budge. Taking care not to make any noise, I search the room, finding my clothes spread from one end to the other. Good grief, did we rip them off and fling them around like wild animals?

Oh, yes, we did. We were.

Gulp.

Not taking the time to give a damn if I look put together, I dress as quickly as possible, grab my purse from the floor in one hand, pick up my shoes with the other, and tiptoe to the door.

The snoring intensifies as Liam rolls to his side. He mumbles something as he slides his hand across the sheets as though he’s searching for… me.

Time to get the hell out of here.

Transferring my shoes to the opposite hand and tucking my purse under the same arm, I dislodge the deadbolt and turn the knob, praying the door doesn’t squeak or that somebody doesn’t come down the hall as soon as I open it.

I don’t take a solid breath into my lungs until I’m in the elevator and going to the ground floor. I slip on my shoes, and by the time the elevator doors open, I’m ready to sprint—okay, walk, but hopefully nonchalantly—across the lobby and out the front door.

I hightail it home. Thank God I don’t live too far away from the hotel.

When I reach my apartment, I rush through a shower, scrubbing away all evidence of the night before. I wash and dry my hair and then dress in fresh clothes. I do this all in record time because I can’t be late for work.

I need to act like nothing at all happened. I’m sure the others might wonder where Liam and I went after yesterday’s meeting, but I’ll just tell them I gave him a town tour. That’s it. There was no dinner, no wine, and definitely no sex.

Nope.

Not at all.

Just a tour.

Of my body. Which he knows well at this point.

I’m so screwed.

I don’t have time to stop at the bakery, so I snag my purse and head out the door. The coffee at the office will have to do for this morning. During a break, I can make a run back here. Delilah will have fresh muffins baked by mid-morning, so I can treat myself to one of those while I’m at it.

I’ve got my head down while I’m scrolling through my emails. It’s a small town, so walking and reading isn’t as big a deal as in the big city. Besides, I can walk this route blindfolded.

“Good morning, Harper.”

I trip over my toes, stumbling a little but catching myself before I do a face-plant on the concrete.

I glance up to see Liam leaning against his black limo, looking fresh and wide awake. A tray of coffee sits on the roof, next to a box of whatever baked treat he found the time to pick up at the bakery.

The urge to turn and run in the opposite direction is strong, but I force a smile just in case anybody is watching. Small towns have many upsides, but the gossip mill is the biggest downside. And like any other place, it’s alive and well in Springdale.

“Liam.”

“You rushed out so quick this morning, I didn’t get to say good morning.”

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