Of courseI’ve had things to lose before. Investing money is partly about taking risks—although if you do it right, the risk is actually almost nonexistent. I have three brothers who I care about more than they know. I have seven houses, two jets, a yacht, a ranch, the lion’s share of a movie studio, three companies, two funds, ten bank accounts and so on.
Losing any one of those things would cause me one kind of pain or another on any number of levels.
This is different.
This doesn’t even compare.
This girl consumes everything about me. I’m addicted to her, I love her, I’m obsessed with her. I want to fuckingbreedher and live inside her lush, squirming, lithe little body. I want to listen to her hard-won, bell-toned laughter for the rest of time. I want to ease every pain she’s ever had and fully absorb all of them so she doesn’t have to experience anything other thanbeauty and happiness from here on in. I want to marry her. I want to pamper her and spoil her and make all her dreams come true. I want her toalreadybe knocked up with my baby so she can’t leave me. I want to spend every waking—and sleeping—moment with her, inside her, as close to her as I can get, from now on, forever, always, with no interruptions, filling her up with pleasure.
It’s fuckingintense.
The thought of losing her now, of not being able toseeher and talk to her and watch her face and taste her and make her moan with as much ecstasy as she can handle … it’s unbearable to even contemplate.
It would kill me.
To go so long without any real connection at all and then to experience this magnitude of perfection … if she were to disappear now, it would literally fucking destroy me.
I don’t want to be dramatic about the whole thing but even the thought of sharing her with her own best friend is causing me a weird amount of angst. Partly because it means I can’tlick her sweet pussy or slide my thick cock into fucking paradisewhenever I want. I don’t know how I’m going to survive having towait.
Fucking damn it all to hell.
I need to calm the fuck down.
I made a few phone calls as she was doing her hair. A few gifts. Some front row seats. Some property reports, deeds, quotes. Orders for our arrival. Everything I can think of that might charm her and convince her.
The rest of it can wait. I’ve returned a few texts to Todd andmy brothers assuring them that yes, I’m still alive. My heart is still beating, at least, even if it insists on doing it in a completely new rhythm.
One that craves and prays with feral hope.
One that will make absolutely sure no matter what it takes or how much it costs me that Amelie Thibodeaux never leaves me.
29
Sadie is waitingfor us in the lobby of the White Swan.
“Eeeeeeee,” she squeals, as soon as Dallas and I step off the elevator. “Let me see you.” Sadie holds my shoulders, noticing everything. The flushed cheeks. The Lila Bailey dress she hasn’t seen yet (and was the only thing I have to wear, with nothing underneath). The wild hair I tried to tame but it has a mind of its own. “My baby’s all grown up,” she gushes. “Girl, you areglowing.”
“Stop,” I blush, but Sadie hugs me.
It’s what I need. I lean into it more than I usually do. Before Sadie, no one gave me hugs. But I’m getting better at it, especially since I’ve been locked in a different kind of enough-intimacy-to-blow-your-damn-head-off bearhug for an entire weekend.
Sadie finally releases me and turns to Dallas, taking in every detail of the six-foot-something alpha male perfection. Whichsounds over the top but there’s really no other way to describe him. I make the introduction. “Sadie Bellamy, meet Dallas Wilder.”
“Sadie, it’s a pleasure.” Dallas offers his hand but Sadie hugs him too.
When she steps back from the hug, there are flags of pink on her cheeks. “You’re even hotter in person, just saying.” To me: “Way to freakinggo, girlfriend.”
I laugh lightly, blushing again. Dallas is a whole new level of handsome today, freshly showered and wearing jeans, a white shirt and a navy blue blazer. With the muscles and the ink, his look is sort of hot and casual wildly successful bad boy billionaire. Whatever it is, it’s definitely working for him.
Sadie looks adorable in a red polka-dot dress and black ballet flats. Her dark wavy bob has been smoothed into place like a classic Hollywood starlet. Sadie has the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen, currently shielded by some ultra-cool sunglasses. She’s naturally curvy, which is a point against her for some dance companies, but I think they’re short-sighted and missing out if they can’t see how gorgeous and graceful—andtoned—she is because all she does is dance. In her excitement, my bestie is dazzling.
She grabs my arm, as giddy as a teenager. “New York, here we come. In aprivate jet!”
There’s no point trying to rein in Sadie’s glee at the whole billionaire angle. It is what it is, and I’ve already agreed to go with it, for a week, I promised. After that, it’s anyone’s guess. For better or worse, my decision-making will be guided at least in part by how many of my demons manage to get out of theirboxes once I’m in a new environment (another reason I stayed, because they’re easier to control in my natural habitat) and what they decide to do with my emotions, like evil puppeteers, once they’re roaming free.
The limo is waiting for us, the driver standing by the open door.
The manager of the hotel is also waiting for us. He hands Dallas my old phone, and a much bigger, shinier, bronze-colored one with a clear case. “The newest model, as requested, Mr. Wilder, with all the data transferred successfully. We also took the liberty of adding a few new apps since the old one had almost none. It’s a two terabyte Pro Max in cosmic orange, which is all the rage—allthe A-list celebrities have one. We were in luck and managed to get you the last of this model they had in stock. Fully charged and ready to go.”
