The Billionaire’s Girlfriend Bet - Leslie North Page 0,33

the grin that covered her face as she nuzzled up to him, their skin sticking from the drying sweat.

Blake wanted a round two. Well, she wanted a round two all the way to two hundred. And after this explosive first time together, she knew she needed to find a new job, because there was no way that she’d be able to keep herself from singing from the rooftops about this man. Remaining publicly discreet and professional would be too much of a challenge. She could do it for a little while, as she job hunted, but she wouldn’t be able to hold back for long.

Because one thing was for certain.

Now that she’d let Blake see all of her…she didn’t want this thing between them to stop.

Not for a long time.

11

Blake spent as much as time as he could wrapped in the sensual cocoon of Michelle’s home. Their reverie lasted a full day and then some. When Mollie was set to come back from her friend’s house on Sunday afternoon, Michelle suggested they part ways so his presence there wouldn’t be confusing to her daughter.

“I don’t want to leave, you know,” Blake said, brushing his lips against hers. They’d been saying goodbye at the door for at least fifteen minutes already.

“I know. I don’t want you to leave either.” She sighed, sinking deeper into the embrace. She just fit in his arms. It was a verified fact at this point. And he couldn’t believe how little he wanted to spend the rest of his Sunday without her at his side.

“Listen. How about this: I go check in at my own house, take care of a few things while you and Mollie get settled, then we all go to a drive-in movie tonight?”

She beamed up at him, appreciation sparkling in her eyes. “I think that’s a great idea.”

“And then we don’t need to be apart very long at all.” He ran his fingers through her hair, loving the sexy glow she’d taken on ever since that first orgasm he’d given her yesterday morning. He might never get tired of staring at this face. Having her in his arms. Spending every second possible with her.

He’d never felt this way about anyone before…and oddly, with Michelle, it didn’t scare him. Not like he would have expected.

“One more kiss,” she whispered, before pushing up onto her toes and planting one on him.

“One more make-out session, you mean,” he teased, and then snagged another kiss, this time with tongue.

She giggled, squeezing his waist. “Okay, enough. Mollie is on her way. I’ll send you constant text updates.”

“Good. I’ll be waiting for the word.” He kissed her one last time and finally stepped away from her. They grinned at each other like teenagers in love as he left the house and made his way to his car. Once he was inside the cool, black interior of his SUV, he heaved a sigh.

This was certainly new. And a whole lot of fun.

He checked his phone for the first time in what felt like days. He’d consciously not checked it yesterday, and had skipped his usual email and voicemail sweep that morning. He thumbed through the notifications he’d received, frowning when he saw a missed call and voicemail from the contractor overseeing the club’s construction.

He hurried to listen to the voicemail.

“Hey Blake, it’s Donnie. Just wanted to let you know we’ve run into a setback. Turns out we need a special electrical permit due to the wiring system the building has. Some sort of updated code that went into effect this year. It could put us back at least a week. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but we’re working on it. Call me if you have any questions.”

Panic sliced through him. Oh no. Opening a week later than the scheduled and announced date was not part of the plan, and it was not going to happen. Blake was the master of finding solutions, whether through his own ingenuity or from throwing money at the problem. If he had to, he’d max out both avenues to ensure that his club opened on time and that he saw the arrival of DJ Fiesta as Daniel had promised.

As he pulled out of Michelle’s driveway, all the relaxation and bliss he’d accumulated from the past thirty hours melted away. He mulled over his options as he began the drive back to his house.

They were in the final stages of this project. Every day—no, every hour—counted. Which meant that he needed