Page 77 of The Sexy Billionaire

She stares down at me with puffy lips and the faintest beard rash.

“I needed to know,” she explains.

“Needed to know what?” I ask as I pull her tighter against me, making her shiver.

“Nothing,” she states as the realization of where she is seated—right against my dick—sinks in. She quickly slides off me and straightens herself out, her eyes dipping to where my dick is, hard and encased, wanting nothing more than to sink inside that tight pussy; the same one he used to be inside every night in the summer.

“Well, thanks again,” she says, reaching for the door handle and pushing it open. My driver grabs the door for her, opening it the rest of the way, and the busy sounds of the Manhattan streets break into our bubble.

“Hey, Paige,” I call out as she slides out of her seat and steps onto the sidewalk. She turns back and peers into the car. “You’re still going to catch up with Natalia tomorrow, aren’t you?”

“If she wants to, of course,” she says, giving me a warm smile.

“Thank you, I know it would make her happy. She’s harmless, just excitable,” I warn her.

“I had fun with her tonight, it will be a welcome distraction from my life. Plus, I need all the help I can get in the clothing department,” she says.

“You look great to me,” I say, looking her over hungrily.

Her cheeks turn red at my compliment. “I better go, Smith will be worried. Again, thanks and I’ll see you around,” she says, trying to back away from me quickly.

“Tomorrow,” I answer.

She frowns. “Tomorrow?”

“We were going to do dinner,” I remind her.

“Oh, yeah, that,” she answers hesitantly.I don’t like the sound of that.“Have a good night, Gio,” she says, then walks away from the car.

“Dean, make sure she gets in safe,” I yell out to my driver; he nods and closes the car door. I watch as he escorts her to the apartment’s front door, she keys in her code and disappears inside. Dean watches until she has gotten into the lift before returning to the car.

I let my head fall back against the seat.

What the hell am I going to do about Paige Johnson?

“You know I’m catching up with her in a couple of hours and I’m going to ask,” Natalia cautions me.

I shrug because it’s up to Paige to tell her whatever version she wants of what happened last night, and I’ll go along with it. I take a sip of my coffee and let the caffeine infuse my body. Ah, that feels good.

“I like her,” she blurts out.

“I like her, too,” I add as I continue to sip my coffee.

“Youlikelike or only like?” she asks.

“Not sure what the difference is, like means like,” I reply, eyes focused on my drink.

“Urgh, men,” she grumbles. “Do you like her as a friend, or have your old feelings resurfaced, and now you’re finding yourself liking her more than a friend?”

She’s more observant than I’ve given her credit for. “Nat, we are friends. We can only be friends. She’s going through a traumatic marriage breakup, with an ex-husband who isn’ttaking it well that they are over. As for me, I am stuck in fucking limbo because my ex-fiancée is living her best life in Greece with my sister, while the world thinks we are this fairy-tale couple, and I can’t say shit about it because I agreed to help her career.”

That was a lot more than I anticipated saying.

“How long have you been bottling all that in?” Natalia chuckles.

“A long fucking time, it seems.” I grimace.

My sister sighs. “You shouldn’t have to hide that you and Giada have broken up if you don’t want to. It’s not fair that she’s doing this to you, especially after everything.”

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