Tapping The Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires #1) (29 page)

Pretty sure the last time I was here, what his bathroom looked like was the very last thing on my mind. The bedroom? Yes. Kline naked? Hell yes. But the cleanliness of his toilet? Yeah, not so much.

“Only one of those things is even remotely my fault,” Kline grumbled under his breath. It was one of those moves where you want to stick it to a person by saying what you’re feeling, but you don’t
actually
want them to hear you.

I tried really hard not to laugh.

“How was the Hamptons?” Bob asked as we made our way into the living room.

“Fantastic.” Kline encouraged me to sit down on the couch before settling beside me. “We had great weather.”

“Had you ever been to the Hamptons, Georgia?” Maureen asked.

“A few times, but not since I was a teenager. It was nice being by the coast. Honestly, it makes me want to live there permanently.”

Kline grinned at me, gently squeezing my thigh.

“What’d you rent for the drive, son?” Bob asked.

“Ford Edge.”

“Sensible vehicle. Not my first choice, but I guess you didn’t want to pick Georgia up in a Focus, huh?” He chuckled, smiling at Kline. “How was the gas mileage?”

“Pretty good,” Kline answered. “Twenty-eight miles to the gallon.”

“Not too shabby.” His dad scrunched his lips together, nodding his head.

The whole practicality thing was really starting to make sense.

“Darling, have you offered Georgia anything to drink?” his mother whispered, but loud enough for me to hear. “I’m sure she’s parched from the drive.”

Before I could decline, Kline was pulling me to my feet.

“Come on, let’s get you something to drink.”

“I’ll take a beer, son!” his dad called out to us as we walked into the kitchen.

“She’s so pretty, Bob,” Maureen whispered to her husband, giddy. “Do you think they’re having s-e-x?”

“Christ, Maureen, I hope to God our son is having sex by now. He’s thirty-four years old. If he isn’t, I’ve screwed up somewhere along the way.”

“Shh,” she quieted him. “Keep your voice down. And stop talking like that.”

“Pretty sure they can hear everything you’re saying, Maur. You’ve never been too good with the inside voice.” His father didn’t even attempt to keep his volume down.

“Do you think they are, Bob?”

“By the way they looked when they walked in the door, I’d say they were about two seconds away from s-e-x-ing.”

If they hadn’t already shown me approval, I’d have been burrowing myself into the floor.

The second we got into the kitchen, Kline was lifting me onto the counter and standing between my legs. He gripped my thighs.

“Sorry for the ambush,” he said, his eyes apologetic.

“It’s not like you planned it. Anyway, I really like Bob and Maureen.”

A relieved grin covered his lips. “They really do mean well. My mom can be a bit of a meddler, though. I’m sure that was apparent the second we walked into my apartment and found them making themselves at home.”

I laughed, nodding. “It’s okay. Once you meet my parents, you’ll realize you have nothing to worry about.”

He pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “I look forward to it, baby.”

“Do you think we’ll have s-e-x tonight?” I teased, waggling my brows.

“God, I was praying you hadn’t heard them,” he groaned, dropping his head to my chest.

I laughed, lifting his chin up to meet my eyes.

“I’m glad you’re finding this hilarious.”

“I can’t wait until we have s-e-x again,” I whispered.

Kline’s face cracked, a smile consuming his perfect mouth.

“I hope you put your mouth on my p-u-s-s-y, too.”

“If I put my c-o-c-k in your mouth, will you stop spelling shit?”

I nodded, my mouth twisting into a devious smile.

He tickled my ribs, urging giggles from my lips.

“Stop it!” I whisper-yelled, squirming away from him. “Now, stop being so damn ornery and get me something to drink. I’m parched.”

He rolled his eyes, turning for the fridge.

I stayed on the counter, swinging my legs and watching him rummage around for refreshments.

“Hey…psst…” I tried to get his attention.

Curious blue eyes peeked over the fridge door.

I cupped my mouth with my hands, whispering, “You have the best c-o-c-k.”

“I
just realized maybe I should have chosen a more professional meal. Something delicate.” Georgia rolled her eyes with a self-deprecating smile and took a sip of wine.

Professional.
Ha
. These days, professional felt like nothing more than a fancy name for a distant memory. I was so wrapped up in her, my eyes were practically staring straight down the barrel of my asshole.

It didn’t feel remotely natural, but it sure as fuck didn’t feel bad either.

“You’re not a delicate professional. You’re a take-charge, no-bullshit kind of woman. If Glen would rather watch you eat a salad than a steak, he can go fuck himself.”

“Kline!”

“Well, he can. Don’t worry about anything other than being yourself and the contract. Fuck the rest.”

It had been two weeks since our trip to the Hamptons. We were at a dinner meeting with Glen Waters, President and CEO of FlowersFirst, to button up an exclusive contract with them that I hadn’t been crazy about—until Georgia had outlined all of the guaranteed cross-advertising they were contracted to do.

Full disclosure, I still wasn’t one hundred percent sold. But Georgia Cummings was a smart, efficient employee, and that wasn’t even my dick talking. He got a vote, I supposed—not worth denying it—but that wasn’t the basis of my decision. My confidence in her ability was what had brought us to this meeting.

But the flower market share on TapNext alone was gargantuan, and I didn’t like giving any one entity the entire pie. Contracts were airtight for a reason, but swearing yourself to one person professionally was just ripe for a fucking.

Glen better have some real unicorn and rainbow type bullshit planned for ad content or I am going to derail this train before it even gets out of the station.

“Sorry about that,” Glen apologized as he approached the table. He’d left to take an “important” phone call. It happened from time to time, so I understood, but he rubbed me as one of those people who
thinks
he’s hot shit and irreplaceable. Everyone is replaceable in business.

Some people like me, or Georgia, or maybe even Glen, could be an asset, but we sure as fuck weren’t necessities. Businesses needed competence, patience, and drive, and plenty of people had those qualities.

“No problem,” Georgia appeased easily, obviously feeling like telling him to go fuck himself a little less than I did.

“Now, we were just starting to dive into the specifics when you got pulled away,” she began, steering Glen back to the prize. I sat back to watch.

“We’d be looking at a twelve-month exclusivity in exchange for majority placement in each of your ads: television, radio, and print. In general, our website makes up twenty percent of the online daily flower market alone. Brooks Media would contractually reserve the right to approve any and all ad content that references or deals with us.”

God, she was something.

Every word she spoke made it clear—business didn’t need specific people, but love and relationships sure did. I was starting to realize my specific person was her.

I checked back into reality just in time to find Georgia looking to me in question. Of course, I’d missed the question.

Glen, the helpful bastard, filled me in, though. “Don’t you think she’d look sexy in one of the ads, Brooks?”

“No,” I answered simply, hoping he’d drop it. We’d just gotten started, and I wanted to believe he was just trying to get into her good graces by complimenting her—inappropriate in both context and manner, but a compliment all the same.

He laughed and gestured at my girlfriend.

“Sex sells. You know this.”

I did. Sex was a huge share of marketing in the U.S. specifically. But there was a whole slew of creative ways to use it, and they didn’t include Georgia.

“Your whole market is sex, and this girl would
sell
.”

I clenched my hand into a fist under the table but worked to keep my voice and demeanor steady. I even managed a completely unfriendly smile. “No, Glen. Georgia is an executive and an asset within the company. What she
isn’t
, is
sex
to
sell
.”

“Kline,” Georgia whispered. My anger was building and she wasn’t oblivious to it.

“Oh, I see,” Glen said with a nod. “Her sex isn’t for sale because she’s already sexing the boss.” He reached out to brush the loose hair off of her shoulder. “Good move, sweetheart.”

My mind raced with a thousand scenarios of how I could strangle this motherfucker from across the table.
Shit.
I shoved back my chair and fished in my pocket for money at the same time. Rage bubbled and boiled under the surface, singeing the lining of my veins, but I didn’t give in to the scene. He wanted that. He’d pushed the last straw to try to get a rise out of me and draw attention to himself because he knew the contract was already swirling the drain.

Guys like Glen were snakes, slithering around until they found the perfect opportunity to pounce. He wanted a physical reaction, one that would land me in handcuffs and balls deep in lawyer’s fees. But I wouldn’t be a party to it.

He was the coward, not me. Instead of facing his poor, pathetic, unintelligible business decisions head-on,
like a
man
, he’d sexually harassed my girlfriend.

“The deal’s dead, Glen,” I declared, throwing the money down on the white linen tablecloth. “Contract’s destroyed. Any future opportunity to do business with Brooks Media and any of its subsidiaries extinguished. And you’ve lost a powerful business ally, and instead, gained an enemy.”

I pulled out Georgia’s chair and forced her to stand.

“Kline—”

“Georgia, let’s go.”

She nodded, grabbed her clutch, and followed, but I could tell she wasn’t happy.

And that made fucking two of us.

Frank sat at the curb waiting, and I opened the door and ushered Georgia in without delay.

“Mr. Brooks,” Frank said as he jumped to attention in the driver seat.

“My apartment, Frank.”

“Yes, sir.”

Georgia tried several times to meet my eyes, but I couldn’t return the favor. I was too goddamn angry. At Glen, at myself, and a little at her. I hated the last most of all.

I expected her to call to me. Tell me to look at her. Something.

But the more my anger stewed, the more her own built. When I glanced her way, she was staring out the window and grinding her teeth, the curves of her nails cutting into the skin of her palms every few seconds.

The ride remained silent and tense and didn’t break until the door to my apartment slammed shut behind us.

I tossed my wallet and keys onto the counter and pulled the tails of my shirt out of my pants. As I loosened my tie, Georgia geared up for battle, turning to face me and slamming her tiny purse down on the kitchen table with force.

“I can’t believe you!” she seethed.

“Me?” I asked in disbelief, four fingers pointing to the outside of my chest and raging heart pumping under the surface.

“Yes, you! That was a multi-million dollar deal. Access to ads we don’t have to pay for for twelve months!” She shook her head. “I’ve been working on it for the better part of six months! And you threw in the towel because you were a jealous boyfriend.”

“Fuck that, Georgia!” I yelled, and she jumped. It was the first time I’d ever raised my voice at her, and it felt just awful enough that I hoped it was the last. But she needed to hear this. “I didn’t screw shit. That deal was menial at best from the beginning, signing away our lives to
him
for an entire year. And the way Glen conducts business is bullshit.”

“I’m a woman, Kline! Sometimes I have to play the game a little differently than you.”

“That’s horseshit.”

She jerked back, and her face flushed red with anger.

“The moment you lower yourself to playing into fuckwits like Glen is the moment you’ve already shot yourself in the goddamn foot
and
leg.”