Tapping The Billionaire (Billionaire Bad Boys 1)
The second I arrived at the airport and got through security in record time—thank God, considering I was running thirty minutes behind schedule—I was called over to the gate, where an attendant instructed that I had been upgraded to a first class window seat.
He sure was one sneaky, adorable, demanding man when he wanted to be.
I clicked my seatbelt into place and grabbed my phone from my purse as passengers continued to board the plane and find their seats. Even though he was probably sound asleep, I decided to send him a quick text.
Me: Someone changed my seat. I’m currently relaxing in first class, enjoying the view from the window.
Kline: I think you should thank whoever did it with that really awesome thing you do with your mouth.
And I thought I had sex on the brain all the time. Pervert.
Me: When I figure it out, I’ll keep that idea in mind.
Kline: If I told you it was me, would you make that idea a reality?
Me: I don’t know…I’m an in-the-moment kind of gal. I’m not very good with hypotheticals.
Kline: It was me. I’ll fit time into my schedule tomorrow night so you can properly thank me.
Me: Now that I’m in the moment, I’m not feeling all that into your idea…
Kline: Did I mention there would be an exchange? You thanking me, me thanking you kind of thing.
Me: Slot me in for tomorrow night at seven.
Kline: Sudden change in feelings?
Me: You presented a very attractive offer, Mr. Brooks.
Kline: Always a pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Cummings.
Me: Likewise…I miss you.
God, I really was a goner. It had only been an hour since I’d kissed him goodbye while he was all sleepy and adorable and begging me to stay, and already, my chest ached over the idea that I wouldn’t get to see him again until tomorrow night.
Kline: I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you left. I think you should quit your job. You should still be in this bed beside me and not on a goddamn flight back home.
Me: I’ll let my boss know ASAP.
Kline: Good idea.
The third round of passengers started to filter down the aisle, heading through the curtains and into coach. I tapped the email icon, drafting a quick message to my “boss.”
From: Georgia Cummings
To: Kline Brooks
Subject: My Boyfriend’s Requests
Mr. Brooks,
My boyfriend isn’t too happy I’m on a flight instead of in his hotel room fucking his brains out. I’m requesting that this doesn’t happen again. He’s very upset.
Sincerely,
Georgia Cummings
Director of Marketing, TapNext
Brooks Media
From: Kline Brooks
To: Georgia Cummings
Re: My Boyfriend’s Requests
Ms. Cummings,
I am taking this concern very seriously. From now on, I guarantee any business trips you are scheduled to attend, you will be booked in the same room as your boyfriend. I will also make sure there is plenty of time scheduled in throughout your day to allow you to fuck his brains out. And just because I feel terrible about this, I’m requesting you leave work early tomorrow and go to his apartment (his front desk probably knows you need a spare key) so you’re there when he gets home. (I bet he’d prefer you to be naked and lying in his bed, too.)
Sincerely,
Kline Brooks
President and CEO Brooks Media
From: Georgia Cummings
To: Kline Brooks
Subject: I think my boyfriend will be very happy…
Mr. Brooks,
Thank you for your utmost concern. I will be sure to leave work early tomorrow and wait for my boyfriend at his apartment. I will also use your suggestion about my attire. Although, I think my boyfriend would prefer me to be wearing the sexiest pair of heels I own while I wait.
Sincerely,
Georgia Cummings
Director of Marketing, TapNext
Brooks Media
P.S. I’m crazy in love with my boyfriend.
From: Kline Brooks
To: Georgia Cummings
Re: I think my boyfriend will be happy…(YES, he will)
Ms. Cummings,
I think your boyfriend would love that. Actually, I bet he’d insist on that.
Sincerely,
Kline Brooks
President and CEO Brooks Media
P.S. He’s crazy in love with you too. For the sake of everything that’s right in the world, don’t forget the fucking heels tomorrow.
Eyes tired, I set my phone in my lap and rested my head on the seat. My mind replayed last night, highlighting everything from Kline stealing kisses between asking me my favorite bands, movies, and vacation spots, to him making love to me, over and over again.
My fingers touched my lips, hiding my ridiculous smile.
“I know that look,” a woman softly whispered beside me.
My eyes blinked open, finding an older lady with salt and pepper hair and a rounded, smiling face in the seat next to mine. “You’re thinking about someone special, aren’t you?”