Page 12 of The Good Billionaire
Kennedy kissed me harder in that elevator and sent me hurdling into so many flashbacks, reminding me how ravenous she’d once been for me. How I thought I’d hit the jackpot finding a woman who couldn’t get enough sex.
Why was that damn elevator so slow?
“Thisdoesn’tchange anything,” Kennedy said, squeezing my cock now, licking her lips.
Jeez, if she went down on me, that was a fucking game-changer for me.
This better not be a dream.
Wouldhaving sex change anything? Feeling her against me now answered that question. The explosion of heat between us confirmed what I suspected for six months: there was no way she really wanted a divorce. This past week proved that despite all the ignored texts, she wasn’t impervious to my charm. She just needed a blaring green light. And I was no better,Imelted from a hand job.
“This is so good,” I breathed, lifting her again. “Let’s just...”
The elevator door to the penthouse level opened and Luke jumped back. “Hey, Seb. Hey, Kennedy. You two made up?”
I put my wife down and glared at Luke. “Shhh,” I hushed my cousin. “We’re still together, remember?”
“Looks that way to me.” Luke shrugged, adjusting shiny cufflinks that matched his hair, spun gold, thick, and swept up. Chicks fell over themselves for those blue eyes and women had often mistaken us for brothers, citing our near-identical chiseled features.
“Don’t you look nice.” Kennedy pushed her skirt down to hide creamy thighs I wanted to lick all night. “Are you wearing that tux to the wedding?”
Luke threw on an overcoat. “No. This is my fundraiser tux.”
“And it’s getting quite a workout,” Tristan said, coming out of the second elevator. “Tom iswaitingfor you.”
“If I’m fun, people will think the hotel is fun, Tristan,” Luke chided him.
“That’s ahorriblemarketing strategy, Luke,” Tristan murmured as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
I seized Kennedy’s hot little hand, almost grateful for the break and the Hart brothers bickering. I’d not had sex in close to a year and after one more stroke, I’d lose it in my pants.
“Am I tearing up those divorce papers?” Luke asked from inside the elevator. He may have taken a leave of absence from his law firm to run the hotel, but Kennedy had sent him her divorce papers.
“No,” she said and smirked at me.
“Yes,” I called out.
The elevator closed and Tristan shook his head. My cousin then turned back to me and Kennedy. I’d already started making out with her again, my hands gripping her ass. Sensing I was being watched, I stopped and glowered at my cousin.
“Do youneedsomething, Tristan?” I asked, inching my wife down the hall toward Grayson’s sweet empty crib. “This was your idea.”
“Actually...” Tristan started and I groaned, wanting to hit my head against the wall. “I checked that thing we just talked about and it’s a go. If you...want.”
“Thing,” Kennedy mocked Tristan. “What’s thething?”
I dropped back a step and put a finger against my lips to shut him the fuck up. Tristan better not have answered Kennedy and spill how I considered crashing his annual singles cruise leaving Monday.
I took a breath and tugged Kennedy closer. “It’s a surprise for Savannah.” I hated dragging my sister into the lie. Or thinking about her when all I wanted to do was bury my cock deep inside the only woman I’ve ever loved.
“Whatever,” Kennedy said. “You four Hart boys are always playing games.”
That we were.
“Goodbye, Tristan.” I grabbed my wife and swiped into Grayson’s penthouse apartment.
“Which is Gray’s bedroom?” Kennedy asked as we breezed past the foyer, the open kitchen, and a living room with leather sofas and mirrored walls.
“Last time I was up here I saw him come out of that one.” I pointed to a hallway that led to bedrooms.
