Page 73 of Hello Billionaire

I rolled down my window as she drew close.

Her hands rested on the open window. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you.”

Even in the night, I could see color flood her cheeks.

“Get in?” I said.

Her head turned toward the house and back to me, brown eyes alight with energy. “My kids are in the house!”

“With their dad, right? Surely they won’t miss you for a few minutes.”

She smirked. “So you’re saying it will only take a few minutes?”

“With the way your ass looks in those leggings, you’ll be lucky if it doesn’t take a few seconds.” I reached across the seat, pulling the door handle, and she got in the car, grinning wide.

“I feel like a teenager sneaking out of the house,” she said.

“You snuck out when you were younger?” I asked, surprised. “I figured you were the kind that could talk your way into anything.”

“You haven’t met my parents.” Then she smiled. “But you will, at the photo shoot, and then you’ll understand.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I said, putting the car in reverse and backing away so no one in her house would guess we were driving by. At Farrah’s curious look, I said, “I did my fair share of rebelling in high school too.”

Farrah reached across the car, putting her hand on my thigh. “Can’t wait to see what trouble we get into.”

30

Farrah

I texted Caleb that I was going on a walk to enjoy the beautiful night air. A buzz of excitement spread in my veins as Gage drove away from my house with the headlights off.

This man next to me made me feel alive in the best possible way.

I roved my hand up his thigh, reaching the hard tip of his erection straining against his pants, and lost the breath from my lungs. Sometimes it was hard to believe this cock was mine to enjoy.

“I don’t know this area,” he said. “Is there a good place to park?”

“Maybe,” I replied, “but I have another idea.”

“What’s that?” he asked, but I was already working my hand to the waistband of his jeans, pulling at the hem of his white T-shirt, reaching for the button.

“Farrah...”

I glanced up, noticing his dark eyes focused on the road. His jaw clenched. I loved the intensity of his stare, especially knowing that he hid a generous heart underneath.

The button came free, and he shifted his hips, letting me slide the zipper down and free his cock from his jeans.

In the light from the dash, I took it in. The length, girth, soft skin and broad tip. “Have I mentioned I love your cock?” I wrapped my fingers around it, pumping slowly.

“The feeling is mutual,” he muttered, closing his eyes briefly before focusing back on the road.

I hadn’t given road head since I was in high school, and that had been a bucket list item for my boyfriend at the time when I was reckless and thought the world lay at my feet. Now, at thirty-four years old, I felt so much less fearless.

“What are you waiting for, baby?” he asked, curling a hand through my hair.

I sat back, biting my lip, and tears stung my eyes. God, could I please stop crying with my not-boyfriend’s cock in my face? It had to be a huge confidence booster for him. “I’m sorry.”

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