Billionaire Baby Daddy

He smiled and drank another swig of his beer.

“Thank you, Mr. Sinclair. I appreciate that,” he said humbly.

“I appreciate everything you guys are doing down here. The ownership papers of this place might be in my name, but it's you guys who run things who have made this place the success it is—and don't you forget that.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sinclair. I'll tell the team.”

“And, tell them they can drink whatever they want tonight: it's on me. They've earned it, many times over.”

“I'll tell them, Mr. Sinclair. Thank you.”

“Just relax and have a good time. Make sure nobody overdoes it, though. We're going to have a lot of work to do tomorrow, on top of what we've already done. I think my team and I will have to stay here until Tuesday to get the cleanup operations done.”

“Should I get the staff to prepare the presidential suite for you then, Mr. Sinclair?”

“No, don't worry about that. I'll just sleep in the regular cabins.”

“All right. See you tomorrow, Mr. Sinclair, bright and early.”

“See you then, Carlos.”

I watched him walk out into the darkness of the jungle, took the last swallow of my beer, crawled into the nearest cot, and practically died.

Chapter Sixteen

Lilah

I woke up with a bit of a hangover. I'd definitely had too much to drink the night before. And that, of course, wasn't the only problem. No, it had merely contributed to the other problem: Asher. Well, Asher and myself. Together. Naked. Doing things that I couldn’t manage to stop thinking about. Things we probably shouldn’t have done.

I guess I wasn't surprised to see that he was gone when I woke up. What was I expecting, anyway? Morning cuddles, or breakfast in bed?

I was feeling a number of things at that moment—a number of conflicting thoughts and emotions, all raging around inside of my mind. For starters, I was upset, but not at Asher. At myself, more than anything, for letting things get that far.

Yet, at the same time, part of me was happy it had happened. I couldn't deny that he had been absolutely amazing in bed. It had been so, so long since I'd experienced such a deep, physical connection with a man. Not even with my ex-fiancé had I felt such an intense tangible attraction.

There had been other men, of course. It wasn't as if I'd been celibate since Jacob and I had parted ways. However, they'd been flings, and they’d been few and far between. I hadn't been willing to let any of them get as close to me, as intimate with me, as Jacob had once been. Because, after all, that would only end with me getting hurt, with me getting my heart broken . . . again. And, I was not about to let that happen.

Yet, there I was, lying naked in bed after a night of passion with my boss, and despite everything, part of me was still craving his presence, still longing for his nude, sculpted body to be alongside mine—and to be inside me.

Somehow, he had made me want him, hunger for him in a way that I hadn't for anyone in years. I couldn’t even say when I last craved a man like I did Asher.

Shaking my head, trying to clear thoughts of him, I walked over to the living room where I'd left my purse and looked through it for my phone. The entire situation was way too confusing to be dealing with in my groggy state of mind. I felt my heart start to beat a little faster as I picked up my purse. Irrational as it was, I couldn't help but hope there'd be a message or missed call from Asher.

There wasn't.

I wasn't sure if I was relieved or upset about the fact that he hadn’t contacted me at all. Especially considering the time—10:00 a.m., way past the hour I usually got up. It really had been quite a night.

Still, seeing if Asher had messaged me hadn't been the primary reason I'd searched for my phone. I needed to make a call. The only way to handle the weirdness of this situation was to talk about it. I needed an unbiased wall to bounce this off of.

I scanned through my contacts and dialed the one I was looking for. She answered after a few short rings.

“Hey, Lilah!”

“Mornin’, Megs, uh . . . How are things?”

“From the sound of your voice, things on my end are better than on yours. What's up?”

“Ugh, I'm a bit hungover, but it'll pass. I had a bit of a, er . . . situation last night. Are you free to meet up? Maybe get some brunch and chat about it?”