Faking It with the Bossy Billionaire by Mahon Leah

Author:Mahon, Leah
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-11-11T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter thirteen

Matthew

I was fucked.

That was the first thing I thought when I watched Reagan dressed after she had cleaned herself up in the bathroom. She had asked me to tie her dress behind her neck as she reapplied her lipstick. Despite our activities, her dahlia scent lingered and I wanted nothing but to bury my head against her collarbone to take everything in.

We laid on the floor and finished the champagne before Reagan decided that she was starving. So I had offered her to take her somewhere she could eat before I drove her home.

There was something else in the air tonight, and I didn’t know if she felt it too, but I didn’t want to say anything for fear that I would push her away.

I wasn’t ready to see her play the piano like that. I had seen her naked and angry, but I had never seen her in this intimate light before. And it stirred something in me that I didn’t like.

Just staring at her right now, I wasn’t noticing her skin or supple lips, or the way she finger-combed her hair back in place. Instead, I wondered what she was thinking, which didn’t cross my mind often because if I did wonder what was running through her mind, what she was feeling, then everything we did would start to mean something.

“How about we go to McDonald’s,” she said out of nowhere as she blotted her lips on a tissue . I wanted to push her against the wall right there to have a taste once more. She was so irresistible, and she knew that she was doing something to me with that subtle act.

“I could take you to somewhere fancier than that,” I offered. I was sitting on the chair by the door, my ankle on my knee as I waited patiently for her to finish.

She spent a lot of time in the bathroom, and even more time fixing herself after she put on her dress. She was vain, and I wasn’t going to berate her because right now, we had nothing but time on our hands. That and I enjoyed every second of it.

I glanced at my wristwatch to see that it was almost ten p.m. All the good restaurants were closed, but if luck was on my side, we’d find something.

Reagan grabbed her bag from one of the chairs, a white Yves Saint Laurent leather envelope bag with gold chain straps. It was elegant and expensive. Perhaps something she brought from home.

“But I’d like a greasy burger,” she argued, fluffing her hair one last time in the mirror before finally turning to face me. It was like we didn’t just have wild sex over my desk and on the cold floor.

With the amount of sex we were having in my office, I should probably opt to get a couch in here. It wasn’t gentlemanly of me to allow her to lie on the floor. Then again, there was nothing gentlemanly about how she liked to be taken.

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