Tapping The Billionaire (Billionaire Bad Boys 1)

Her body shook with laughter despite her stern face.

“Get cleaned up for dinner!”

“Yes, ma’am,” I agreed with a wink, sliding my body all the way down hers and pushing my face to the front of her pants.

“Mmm.” I inhaled. “I think I should help you clean up here. I’ll lick up all of my mess,” I promised, pledging my truth with a hand at my chest.

She just shook her head and smiled, sliding a hand into my hair and yanking up on my head. “Go get changed and throw some cold water on your face, you bad man, you.”

I reached into my pants with a grin and adjusted my dick to a more comfortable position.

“I can’t help it, baby,” I teased. “It’s the house’s fault.”

She shook her head again, climbing to her knees and pushing her lips softly to mine. She spoke softly right there. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Keep me.”

“What am I gonna do with me?” she whispered. “So lost in you.”

I squeezed her tight and answered with a prayer.

“Stay there.” Forever.

“Let me show you one of my favorite places in the house,” my father instructed, leading Kline toward the garage. This was another one of his tests.

Hell, he’d been testing my boyfriend all weekend.

There had been the beer test. Dick had offered Miller Lite and Guinness. Kline had chosen Guinness, and my father had patted him on the shoulder, adding, “I’m happy Georgie didn’t bring a light-beer, piss-drinking pussy into my home.”

There had been the liquor test. Dick had offered him a martini. Kline had politely declined and asked if there was any bourbon or whiskey in the house. Dick’s response: another pat on the back.

There had also been the pizza test. Last night, my mother hadn’t felt like cooking, so Dick had handed Kline a menu from Pappadoro’s—a mom and pop pizza shop up the street—and told him to order a bunch of pies for everyone. Kline had gotten another pat on the back when he ordered three large meat lover’s supremes and cheesy garlic bread.

Sports. Cars. Politics. You name it, and Dick tested. Surprisingly enough, Kline had passed every one with flying colors. How’d I know this? The pat on the back, of course.

We stepped out into the three-car garage, and Kline immediately removed his arm from my shoulder, walking over toward one of my dad’s cars.

“A 428 Cobra Jet Mustang. Wow.” He let out a low whistle, eyeing my father’s car with an appreciative gleam in his eyes. “She’s a beaut.”

“Probably my favorite person in the house.” My father patted him on the back, chuckling.

“Bought her in sixty-eight. She’s in prime condition. Engine was restored a few years ago.”

“Tell me you kept the Low Riser cylinder heads,” Kline added, moving around the car with his hands on his hips, his eyes plastered to the red paint of my father’s most prized possession.

Sometimes, I wondered if he loved this car more than he loved his own kids.

“Of course I did.”

“Thank God.” Kline skimmed his fingers across the paint, light enough that he wouldn’t leave a mark, and a giant smile consumed his face. “This, right here, was the game changer for Ford.”

Dick stared at my boyfriend like he was falling in love. “She redeemed the Ford name in the factory of horsepower.”

Kline nodded and glanced up at me, a boyish smile still etched on his handsome face. “Why didn’t you tell me your father had this in his garage?”

I shrugged. “I had no idea you’d get such a hard-on for a car.”

“Are you kidding me?” Kline laughed. “This is one of my favorite cars. Ever. My father’s a Ford man, through and through. He’d lose it if he got his hands on this car.”

“I think your dad and I would get along just fine,” Dick said with a smile.

Jesus. I’d never seen my dad smile so much in my life. The pulsating vein in the center of his forehead, yeah, I’d definitely seen my fair share of that, especially when I’d missed curfew in high school. But this giant smile that had taken up residence on my father’s face? It was so rare that it was almost creepy.

Dick Cummings was a pretty happy guy, but he didn’t usually pass out smiles and giddy looks on a daily basis. Honestly, I think the last time I’d seen him smile like this, my mother had brought home three bags from Victoria’s Secret.

“I’d let you take her for a spin, but I’ve gotta take her into the shop come tomorrow morning. She’s having issues when I try to crank her.”

“Mind if I take a look?” Kline asked.