Page 20 of The Good Billionaire

SEVEN HOURS LATER INone of the penthouse villas, Seb shuffled in behind me. With his dark hair and gray suit, acting all king of the world, he’d taken my breath away.

I’d smiled all night at the rehearsal dinner held at an amazing restaurant overlooking the Central Park skating rink. Another thing we never did anymore. Drunk ice skating. Falling didn’t hurt as much when I was tipsy.

“I changed my mind.” I leaned on the wall near the hallway to the bedrooms. “I’ll make sure the second bedroom doesn’t look used.”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I just really liked how it felt this morning.”

Nodding, I said, “I bet. Even when I was there, Seb, you didn’t touch me.” Yet, at the table earlier, his hand had crept up my dress. Keeping me wet and on edge.

And confused as hell. I’d set a horrible example that he could get whatever he wanted with that body of his.

“I know. That was wrong,” he miraculously admitted. “And I swear... I can’t promise to not work endless hours, but I will never ignore your needs again, Kenna.Never.”

An amazing promise, but it didn’t change he was leaving. Or that I had my own superstar job waiting. Should I tell him? See what he’d say? A pit formed in my stomach, dreading the ‘so what’ on his face.

Or anger that I’d taken an anchor position, wedged myself in so firmly here in New York, I could never leave. Killing any chance of me going with him to San Francisco.

Staring in his green eyes, my resolve began to shatter. I needed to bolt into that second bedroom, lock the door, and push a dresser in front of it. I feared I’d cave and sleep with him.

“Good night, Seb.” With an aching heart, I slid against the textured wallcovering, wishing it was a sticker bush to kill the lust storming through me.

Thirty-six hours to go feeling like shit.

Any word on when the next asteroid would kill everyone on earth?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Sebastian

Knuckles rapped my bedroom door and I pushed the covers away, angry. Spoiled sure, for not getting what I wanted. Was it so much to fucking ask, that I wanted my wife?

Ugh, I wasn’t sure how I would face everyone now. Yesterday had been easy, having had sex all night. I’d barely slept last night as well, but for all the wrong horrible reasons.

I’d slept alone the last six months and that had utterly sucked. One damn night with Kennedy and now it was agony.

“What?” I swung the door open, horror spreading through me.

Kennedy stood there, her hair in an unwashed ponytail, a pair of jeans, low riders showing off her cute tummy thanks to the tight tee-shirt. “Bagels in Savannah’s suite. Everyone’s there. Let’s go.”

More faking it. Great.

“Five minutes.” I pushed the door open and wandered back into the bedroom.

“Sleep okay?” she asked.

“No. You?”

“Barely a wink.”

I stopped and turned around, my fingers sliding into my boxers. Her eyes crawled over me, taking me in. My heart pounding, I skimmed the cotton groin-hugging Hanes past my waist.

Her breath grew ragged and she glanced away. “Five minutes.” She left and closed the door.

Shit...

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