Page 113 of Extradition (Mobsters + Billionaires 1)
I raise my brow at him. “You see how much reassurance I need after we play. Do you think I worry whether or not you think I’m man enough?”
He scrunches his nose. “No. But you’re more dominant, and I don’t want it as much. Like with the topping—I’ll only ever do it when you need it.”
I shrug. “Baby, that’s the same thing I’m doing. I’m just giving you what you need. Unless you think I’m going too far.”
He shakes his head, embarrassment still lighting his delicate skin.
“So, then…maybe you’re exactly the kind of man I need, and I’m exactly the kind of man you need. And who cares about the percentages? If we’re both happy with it, who the fuck cares? Is there a man-enough task force gonna come into our bedroom with a clipboard and a calculator?”
He laughs, shaking his head. “I suppose not.”
“This was my whole point at that meeting. The weakness is in the rigid rules. We don’t have to be fifty-fifty on anything, and as long as we’ve both got one hundred percent consent, we’re golden. We are who we are, and who we are fits pretty damn good if you’re asking me.”
Rand slots his face against my neck, a now-familiar move that lets me know he needs comfort and praise, not embarrassment. He runs his fingers through my chest hair.
“So, what you’re telling me—since we don’t need to be fifty-fifty on anything—is that you can unclench when it comes to matters of finance, right? That when I say use your salary to invest and let me worry about the rest that I know what I’m talking about?”
“Rand, that’s different. We haven’t even known each other that long.”
“Mm-hmm. But tu mi ami,” he says, his Italian adorably stilted. “And if six months down the line we decide we’re not compatible after I’ve spoiled you rotten and taken you on expensive trips and bought you expensive things, I’ll still have made more on the dividends of my investments than I could possibly spend on you in six months. The money I make by not doing anything is more than I could spoil you with in a lifetime. So stop worrying about what it looks like to have me pay for things and let me handle it. It’s one of the things I like about being filthy rich—I can take care of the people I love.”
Fuck. He’s got a point. It irks me to my bones, but even with my huge raise, I’m still not in the same universe as his portfolio.
“Fine,” I huff. “But you have to help me figure out how to invest.”
He sucks on my earlobe. “We’ll invite Ford over for some of your pasta, and he’ll explain it to you.”
Shaking my head, I cup his face and bring him in for a kiss. “I fucking love you.”
His soft smile is all I need.
Just as we’re beginning to move around, clean up, and get dressed, there’s another soft knock at the door.
“My apologies, sirs, a Mr. Hopper is here to see you.”
Rand looks at me, silently asking if I know the purpose of his visit. I shake my head. Kissing him softly, I whisper, “Thank you for last night and this morning. It was perfect. Now, let’s see what this nut job has to say.”
