Page 22 of Conning the Billionaire
“Or on your nightstand,” she whispered back. Oh, she hadn’t meant to—
“No, I’d want you to keep them on.”
Her breath stole away from her lungs.
Why was she talking about sex so much? Talking about her lost V-card over dinner, and now this, it was all too much. She didn’t need to be talking about sex.
People talked about sex with people they were going to have sex with, or at least they were thinking about having sex with. She wasn’t a prostitute, so she didn’t have sex with marks. She never had sex with marks. She should just stop thinking about sex.
Kylie asked him, “Would you like it if I kept them on?”
He growled, “Stay with me for a week, and you can keep the whole set on.”
The whole set was probably worth a hundred thousand dollars.
She could probably pawn it for a third of that, but it might be enough to walk away from Atlantic City, maybe go to California, maybe look for her mother and her little sister out there in the world somewhere.
Except that leaving Rita, Alma, and Priyanka would be a dick move that she wouldn’t do. Kylie didn’t abandon people who needed her.
But it would be an excellent haul, and Alma’s kid could definitely see a doctor this week if she had that kind of a night.
She turned to the blond Italian, not having to feign breathlessness. “They’re so beautiful, but they’re so expensive.” She pouted just a little, crestfallen. “I’ll pick something else.”
Kylie ducked from under his arm and meandered toward the cheaper end of the jewelry cases.
He came after her just like she’d intended, whispering, “Come back.”
She allowed herself to be led back to the outrageous earrings, subtly signaling with a finger twiddle to her friend Priyanka, who hurried over to help them.
Priyanka removed the earrings from the case, laying them in the blond Italian’s palm, saying, “These would look beautiful on her. She’s a lucky woman.”
She smiled shyly at Priyanka as if they didn’t know each other.
The blond Italian held them out and put them in her hand. “Let’s see how they look.”
Kylie took her cheapo hoops out of her ears and was exquisitely aware as she worked the posts through her holes that the blond Italian had every intention of seeing how they would look on his pillow that night.
And she was kind of thinking about it.
A week, he’d said, and he would buy her the whole set.
A night, and she could see what he looked and felt like under that suit.
Maybe, which was a thought she never had, and Priyanka would have slapped Kylie for even considering it.
She let her hands fall and gazed into his shimmering eyes, glittering all the more in the jewelry store’s LED lights meant to make the gemstones sparkle. “How do they look?”
“Beautiful,” he said, his voice a growl. “Absolutely beautiful.”
“On my room charge,” he said and inclined his head toward the sales clerk, but he didn’t look away from Kylie, and she couldn’t look away from him as he tapped his phone and handed it to Priyanka.
He was beautiful, this blond Italian who had defended her from the pissy gambler, who bought her diamonds without a blink, and who reached for her, taking her hand and flipping her fingers to pull her against him as he bent his head to kiss her for the first time.
His lips were full and soft as he brushed them against hers, and then he kissed her harder.
Kylie wound her arms around his neck and curved her body, vining herself against him. She opened her lips, and his tongue stroked hers.
That hint of deep woods and cinnamon puffed from the blond Italian’s collar, and his body was steel hard against hers.
