He was the perfect billionaire who ran empires and owned the Carolina Reapers. He spent his time with professional athletes and other billionaires and did his best to help the general public when he could. He donated to charities and went to galas and was basically royalty of our modern time.
My fingers hovered over the keys, antsy to send him a text. To tell him how much I was going to miss him when our time was up or to beg him to come over and kiss me again.
I closed out the text and chucked my phone across the bed to quash the temptation.
Because sending him a text like that wasn’t part of his perfect world.
It would be reckless and spontaneous and this side of chaotic.
And men like him didn’t get texts like that, which only further proved how much I needed to stop all the feelings growing for him in their tracks.
Because if I got in any deeper, I’d be the one paying for it in the end.
7
ASHER
Day thirty-one, and we were on our way to the poker game, against my better judgment. But when push came to shove, she’d asked to go, to see this last section of my life, even though I’d told her she wasn’t allowed to use any of it in her book. Technically, our time was up. I’d fulfilled my end of the dare with Weston.
I was well within my rights to say no to bringing her to Nicaragua, where Weston had arranged for our next event. But if I was being honest, I wasn’t ready to let her go.
Somewhere in the last thirty days, I’d gotten used to Daisy showing up for morning workouts and breakfast. I’d grown accustomed to her asking questions after a phone call, or sitting quietly while I stewed about something that hadn’t gone my way. I looked forward to the way her scent filled my car on the way to work, and found myself watching, absolutely rapt, for what she’d be wearing that day.
And that fucking kiss? It was the most electric, consuming mistake I’d ever made, because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Instead of listening at meetings, I was staring at Daisy’s lips, remembering just how soft they’d been under mine. I was constantly on edge, aching for something I instinctively knew no one else could give me—just her. There was no one else I even wanted. My fingertips itched to feel the silk of Daisy’s skin. My cock—
“So you just write down the names of companies, or prized items?” Daisy asked, yanking me from my absolutely inappropriate thoughts as she leaned toward me on the plush leather couch we currently shared on my jet.
She’d traded her usual retro dresses for a strappy summer number that left her shoulders bare and dipped to reveal a more-than-enticing amount of cleavage. Then again, she probably could have worn a potato sack and I would have been enticed. The gauzy skirt skimmed her knees, and she’d paired it with strappy sandals that were currently curled under her as she waited for me to answer.
“Depends on what the current bets are.” I flipped the screen on my iPad and dug back into the contract Miles Newsome, the Reapers’ general manager, had sent me. He wanted to poach one of the star players from Tampa, and I just didn’t see it happening, but I was still willing to look at what he had in mind for terms.
“So, at what point do the bets get too rich?” Daisy asked.
“When you aren’t willing to risk whatever they’re looking for.” I gave up on the contract and set the iPad on the table next to me. She was more fun to talk to, anyway.
“But you guys don’t like…bet on girls or anything, do you?” Two little lines appeared on her forehead.
My stomach pitched. “How do you mean?”
“Like, you’re not over there, including nights with your girlfriends on the chips, right?” She whispered, as if anyone could hear us. I’d already told her early in the flight that the staff was accustomed to staying the hell out of the main cabin unless I pushed a button for service. I did way too much business back here for anyone to come and go as they wished.
“None of us would ever do that.” I lifted my brows and made sure she knew I meant it. “Besides, none of us really keep regular girlfriends. Ethan drives women away the second they realize he’s actually a flaming asshole, Crossland is too busy fucking as many women as he can to settle on one, Gareth keeps his personal life…personal, and Weston…” I shook my head and grinned. “Weston hasn’t quite figured out why he can’t settle down, but I bet once you’ve been in the room with him for less than an hour, you’ll know exactly why.”