Page 113 of The Billionaire's Wake-up-call Girl

We drink our cocoa, and later we order Chinese and eat it while we watch an Avengers movie on his couch. It’s the most couple-ish thing we’ve ever done. When it’s over, I stretch out and lay my head in his lap. “What should we do now?”

He looks down at me, and for once I can’t read his expression. My belly tightens as his hand slides onto my cheek. He leans down and kisses me, all spicy and sweet; then he kisses the crook of my neck.

There’s no forbidden game to it at all. I’ve never felt so naked with him. We feel like a couple, exactly what we can’t be, for oh-so-many reasons.

“Why do you even need the Locke partnership so bad?” I ask, forcing us off the romantic slippery slope. “You have wads of money and your own company.”

He stills. “They have relationships and trust built up with charitable organizations across the world,” he says. “It’s a lot less hassle to jump through their PR hoops than to set up my own network. Giving is actually more complicated than people think.”

“Well, the Locke people should be grateful. That’s what I think.”

“They’re into image. A strong image attracts the best people and makes them more effective. I can appreciate that.”

“You just don’t want to bother,” I say.

“No.” The tip of his finger traces my jawline. “They’d be especially grateful if I’d worked out the new formula.”

“More gratitude, motherfuckers,” I say.

He chuckles softly. I feel it from his lap. “Yeah, motherfuckers.”

He traces my jawline back the other way, and a strange thrill stirs through me, wonderful and dangerous.

This is nice,I think, and I suddenly want to say it. But I don’t. I can’t.

He touches my right cheekbone. “This is my favorite freckle of yours. My second favorite is the one on your right thigh.” He touches my right thigh. “Here.” His touch is a magic wand, awakening my thigh and nearby pussy.

“I never think about that one.”

“I always do. And there’s another one here at two o’clock from your belly button.” He sets a finger over the spot. My belly undulates under his touch, but it’s his gaze that gets me. “I like every place on you, Lizzie.”

My belly lurches. He’s not doing any kind of look, not playing any sort of game. It’s just him, open and frank.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he says.

“Theo—”

“Please stay.”

“It’s impossible.”

“Unless we decide to make it possible.”

“Don’t. We talked about this. You said you wouldn’t get involved.”

“Maybe it’s time for you to change your mind,” he says.

“I can’t change my mind on an emotion.”

He gazes miserably out the window.

“Please respect that I need this to happen on my own steam. I need you to stop trying to change my mind on it.”

He sighs.

I sit up and touch the inner edge of his right eyebrow. “This is one of my favorite places on you.”

He doesn’t want to play anymore. He just stares out the window, secret thoughts flowing behind stormy gray eyes.

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