Page 13 of Submit to Mr. Billionaire

I gently hold her face, looking into her eyes, "Seriously, how much?"

She teases with a raised eyebrow, "What if I don't say? What will you do?"

I pause for a moment. "Well, I'll have to find a way to make you tell me."

Her lips form into a naughty grin. "How? You gonna spank me?"

I bite my lower lip. "I might."

Without warning, she closes the distance between us. Her hand reaches up, gripping the back of my neck as she pulls me down into a deep kiss. Her lips are incredibly soft, and her tongue is sweet, intertwining with mine in a dance that feels forbidden. I instinctively bring my hands up to her face, holding her close as I lose myself. I kiss her with everything I've got as if she's the only thing keeping me alive.

Then she lets out a little whimper, shivering against me and at that moment I'm ready to take her home and risk it all.

"Ah, there you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!" Marissa's voice cuts through the air. As her eyes land on us, her initial surprise morphs into utter shock upon realizing it's me.

Fuck, we've been caught.

Quinn snaps back to reality, her expression shifting from dazed to sober awareness. "I need to leave," she murmurs quickly. She hurries towards her, who is still looking back and forth between us in confusion.

She loops her arm through Marissa's and pulls her away before she can ask any questions.

I realize this could backfire on Quinn; she's already expressed her concerns about not wanting to be the latest office scandal, and now I'm putting her in that exact situation.

Coming here was a mistake.

I should've just stayed my ass at home.

I get on the plane, headed for Nashville, and my frustration is at an all-time high.

I've been calling Quinn over and over, and she's not answering. It's irritating. I find my seat in business class, noting how nice and roomy it is, but I can't enjoy it. I'm too worked up.

The pilot's voice comes over the intercom, saying we're taking off in fifteen minutes.

I decide to shoot her a text. I'm annoyed but also worried. She was pretty drunk last night. Did she even get home okay? I wanted to speak with her this morning. I thought we would have some time before we board to talk about what went down but hell, I don't even know what I would say. I hate that we got caught but that doesn't stop me from wanting her. Her lips are as soft as pillows and now I want to know what the rest of her feels like… taste like.

Me:"Where are you? You're going to miss the flight."

I'm drumming my fingers on the armrest when my phone finally vibrates.

Quinn:"Taking a later flight. I'll be there in time to set up for the event. See you later."

This sets me off. Irresponsible. She just overslept, isn't it typical for a twenty-six-year-old?

I lean back, trying to relax but it's easier said than done.

She better get there on time.

No excuses.

7

QUINN

I'm standing at the kiosk at the charity event, showing people how to use the tech art tools. It's pretty neat, and I'm doing my best to stay focused on it. I hate that my eyes keep drifting to Weston, who's out there talking with the guests. He's a natural at this, all smiles and charm. But every time our eyes meet, his face hardens, and he quickly looks away.

I can't help but wonder, is he upset that I took a later flight? He's barely said two words to me today.

This awkwardness is killing me.

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