Page 97 of The Billionaire's Wake-up-call Girl

“To get back on my feet. Financially.”

Finances.

Finances are nothing. Finances can be solved. I go back to kissing her. “It’s just breakfast. And you know you can’t resist me.”

Her chest rises and falls as I strip off her shirt. “And I don’t do relationships.”

“Forget relationships. This is nothing but proximity to food supply,” I say. “Satisfying my animal needs. Using you for your smoking-hot body. Do you have a problem with that?”

She still looks unsure. I have my hands all over her. I can’t get enough of her. I can’t think of anything but to find a way to keep this going.

“No commitment. No expectations,” I add.

She hesitates.

I prefer to go into business deals not needing a yes. The fastest way to a yes is not needing it.

But for the first time in my life, I need a yes from a woman. Need it like air.

I tell myself it’s because she’s so elusive. Nothing like scarcity to make a person desperate. But that’s a lie.

I need her. End of story.

“You’re just my wake-up-call girl.”

She puts a hand on my chest, holding me off. She looks serious.

“Everybody needs to eat.” I slide a knuckle down her arm. I may not be able to talk her into what I want, but one touch and her skin comes alive; I can see it in her eyes. “Everybody needs to fuck. And you know I’m the best you’ve had.”

“Jay-zuss,” she says, but I know she thinks it, and she knows I think it, too. Something real happened last night.

“And you haven’t gotten your spanking you so richly deserve.”

Her eyes widen, just a fraction. Other people might not see it, but I do. The tides are turning my way. I kiss her neck in the spot she most likes. “Fuck buddies only. Three-week fuck buddies. Nothing to lose with a hard stop like that.”

“I don’t know, Drummond,” she whispers. Which tells me she’s thinking about it.

I slide my hand between her legs and watch her eyes go fuzzy. “Theo,” I say. “Say it.” I press on the spot she loves, stoking her pleasure.

“You’re playing dirty.”

“I know.”

She grabs my wrist. “Three-week fuck buddies,” she says. “And you won’t try to control me or get involved in my business in any way. You don’t meddle in my life. And no more home visits like this.”

I kiss my favorite freckle—the dark one at the very edge of her cheekbone. Who tried to control her? Who meddled in her business affairs? Was it that Mason West guy? Is he the one who ruined her? Has anybody made him sorry?

“I’ll stay away from your business.” I kiss her other cheekbone, for purposes of symmetry. Then I kiss her rosy lips.

I put my hands back on her. Maybe it’s not fair that I’m seducing her while we make this deal, but I’ll use every advantage I have.

“Just sex,” she says.

“Pure animal need,” I say, ignoring the little voice in the back of my head that points out what an utter lie that is.

The little voice whispering that this doesn’t qualify as animal need.

An animal in need of food will eat anything. An animal lost in the desert will drink almost any liquid. An animal in heat will fuck anything.

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