Not Another Billionaire (Not Another Romance) Page 6

  “Tessa?” Seth’s deep voice sounded in my ear. “Where are you?”

  I frowned. I must have gotten our meeting spot wrong. “I’m at the check-in. I thought that’s where we were supposed to meet up. Did you need me to meet you somewhere else?”

  Hot Guy chose that moment to turn around, and I almost dropped my phone when I saw it was Seth.

  Of course, Hot Guy was my boss.

  I didn’t know why I’d thought he’d be dressed in business attire. It was probably because that was how I always saw him, but it made sense that he was wearing something more comfortable for flying.

  And if I’d thought he looked good in a suit, he looked even better in jeans and a T-shirt. I had to resist the urge to lick my lips because the front was just as good as the back. His tee showed off his muscular chest, and his jeans—dear God—I thought I could see the outline of his package in them even though they weren’t tight.

  I shifted from one foot to the other and tried to ease the ache in my body as heat washed over me.

  I thought I needed to get laid because my boss was looking extra sexy right now.

  It didn’t help that he grinned as he walked over to me. His smile was sexy too.

  “Hey. How long have you been here?”

  “A few minutes. I didn’t realize it was you over there.” I didn’t want him to know I’d been ogling his ass for over five minutes.

  Seth reached over to me, and I sucked in my breath, wondering what he was going to do to me. A part of me hoped he’d touch me, but he went for my cell and hit the End button.

  “I don’t think we need to use our phones anymore,” he said when I looked up at him in what was most likely surprise.

  Surprise that I’d been so mesmerized by him that I forgot to end my call.

  “Thanks. I thought I’d already done that,” I lied.

  “Shall we get going?”

  “Yes.”

  Anything to keep my mind off my sexy boss.

  Our check-in was fast, but we spent over forty-five minutes in the security line. After that, we stopped and picked up coffee since we had a four-hour flight and California was two hours behind us.

  We were one of the first to board the plane. I pulled out my paperback to read, took the seat by the window, and buckled up. I had to admit, the leg room in first class was pretty nice. Seth sat in the aisle seat with his laptop.

  “Are you going to work?” I asked, pointing to his computer.

  “Maybe. I had the team brainstorming all weekend, and I figured I could look over a few things.”

  “You know, you never explained to me why we’re going to San Francisco. I guessed by all the excitement on Friday, it was something big, but I must have missed the memo on what exactly was going on.”

  The corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smile, almost as if he had a secret. He leaned closer to me, and I caught a hint of his cologne. I almost closed my eyes to savor his smell, but then I would have looked ridiculous. However, I couldn’t look in his eyes, so I ended up staring at his shirt pulled over his muscular chest instead.

  This flight was going to last forever.

  “Paragon fired their ad company,” Seth said in a low voice.

  This news was big enough to snap me out of my fantasies. Paragon was one of the biggest electronics and appliance companies in the world. They made Android phones, televisions, computers, washers and dryers, kitchen appliances, and a host of other things. I might not have been in the advertising world long, but I could only imagine the amount of money Paragon spent on marketing every year.

  “On a list of companies with the biggest ad budgets, they are in the top ten. We are going to San Francisco to try to convince them to hire the Bradford Agency.”

  “Ahh. And that would explain why the owner and CEO is going instead of anyone else?”

  “Damn right. I need to let Paragon know that they are important to me and my company.”

  “That makes sense.” Most of it. “So, what will I be doing while we’re there? Won’t I get in the way?”

  He smiled. “Not at all. I will have plenty of stuff for you to do. Paragon’s CEO is old and old-fashioned. He doesn’t like PowerPoint presentations. So, whatever I decide to pitch to him will have to be printed out, and without our own resources at our fingertips, I’m going to need you to figure out where in the city we can make things happen.”

  Yikes. It was almost like the account would depend on how good of a job I could do. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

  Seth sat back. “That’s good to hear. But you don’t need to worry about anything now. We’re not going to get there until after eight, Pacific Time. We’ll get to bed early and get a head start tomorrow morning.”

  “Was I that obvious about being worried?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  The flight attendant made the announcement to put electronics in Airplane mode or to turn them off, which wasn’t ideal. I wanted to start Googling for print shops in the Bay Area.

  I guessed I was going to have to settle for trying to relax and not concern myself with it until tomorrow.

  “What are you reading?” Seth asked, looking at my book, which was facedown in my lap.

  “Um…” Normally, I wasn’t embarrassed to tell people I read romance novels, but this was my boss, and this book had a particularly bold title.

  “Is it that Fifty Shades of Grey stuff?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Hell no. I don’t do billionaires.” My eyes widened at the words that had flown out of my mouth on autopilot. I looked at Seth. “No offense.”

  Seth raised his brow.

  I couldn’t tell him about my history with the private school I had gone to and how the rich kids had made fun of me, so I picked the other reason I didn’t like billionaire books.

  “After Fifty Shades came out, everyone was writing billionaire books. This book was a billionaire story, this book was a billionaire story, and this book was a billionaire story. You couldn’t walk two feet without tripping over one.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “It’s not like I blame the authors who did this. Fifty Shades was huge, and a girl’s gotta eat. But it was overdone, in my opinion. Not to mention, most billionaires in real life are unattractive, old men.” I side-eyed Seth. “Again, no offense.”

  He shrugged. “None taken. Technically, I’m a millionaire.”

  I snorted. “Yeah, because that’s so much less money.”

  “Actually, it is. If you took money and turned it into time, a million seconds would be eleven and a half days. A billion seconds is almost thirty-two years.”

  My jaw dropped. “You’re shitting me.” I clapped my hand over my mouth. “I mean, you’re kidding me.”

  “You can swear in front of me, Tessa. And, no, I’m not kidding.”

  “Wow. I had no idea there was such a difference.”

  “Most people don’t.”

  “But either way, a million dollars is still much more than what most people have.”

  “You’re very correct, which is why I try to give where I can.”

  A rich guy who gave back. This was interesting.

  “So, where do you give money?” I asked.

  “Planned Parenthood, ACLU, RAINN, Crisis Text Line, and The Trevor Project, to name a few.” Seth looked away and cleared his throat. “So, if you don’t read about billionaires, what kinds of guys do you read about? What does the man in your current book do for work?”

  I chuckled nervously. “The hero is a stripper-slash-escort.”

  It was Seth’s eyes that widened this time. “For real?”

  “Yes, for real.”

  “Wow. What does the woman do?”

  “The heroine is a journalist and has been sent to do an article on him.”

  “Hm. Is it good?”

  “So far. I only just started it.”

  “Are you going to turn it over and show me the title?”

  “Um…no.”

 
Seth both frowned and laughed. “No?”

  “No. It’s not suitable for work.”

  He leaned in close. “We’re not working, Tessa.” His voice was low and sultry, and I wondered if he talked like that when he was naked and in bed with a woman.

  I should have been focused on where his hand was instead of whether or not he liked to talk dirty because he snatched my book out of my lap before I could even process that he’d moved.

  He stared, openmouthed, at the cover and then started to laugh.

  I glared at him. “It’s not funny.”

  I reached for my book, but he blocked me.

  “I never said it was.”

  “Then, why are you laughing?”

  “Because…” He grinned. “I don’t know why. I just am. Picturing you reading a book called Dickmatized does something to me.”

  This time, when I went for my paperback, Seth let me have it.

  He looked over my shoulder and said the title again, “Dickmatized by Leela Lou Dahlin.”

  I lifted my chin and met Seth’s eyes. “Yes, that’s the title. I personally love it.”

  “I like it too.” He glanced down and back up at me. “So, Tessa, tell me, have you ever been dickmatized?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Seth

  I flipped to the next page of Tessa’s book while she slept on my shoulder. She never answered my question on whether or not she’d ever been dickmatized, but I suspected she hadn’t. She had avoided my question, but the blush on her cheeks had given her away. Which was a damn shame. This woman deserved to be dickmatized.

  But I was her boss, so I didn’t press the issue. I should have never asked it in the first place, but my mouth had gone off before my brain could stop it.

  So, when she opened her book and stuck her nose in it, I didn’t bother her anymore.

  I turned on my computer and kept my mind on my own work.

  But after a while, Tessa set down her book and closed her eyes. When she’d slumped over onto my shoulder, I’d closed my laptop and picked up her book.

  I wasn’t much of a reader, but when I did read, it wasn’t romance novels, so my curiosity was very piqued. And I had to admit, I wanted to get to the sex stuff before Tessa woke up.

  But as I read it, I found that I wanted to know what was going to happen to the characters and their relationship too.

  It felt like I was getting close to the good stuff when Tessa stirred and lifted her head.

  I set the book down on my lap to look at her.

  “Oh man.” She rubbed her eyes. “How long was I out?”

  “Not long. Maybe half an hour.”

  She laid her head back down on my shoulder and yawned. I certainly didn’t mind being her pillow, but when she wrapped her arm around my bicep and pushed her breasts into me, I had to adjust the lower half of me.

  I loved it when women were sexy without trying. Don’t get me wrong. I liked it when they were trying, too, but there was something about them not realizing how beautiful they were that made them even more irresistible. Like Tessa was now.

  If we weren’t in an airplane full of people, there was a chance I would show her just how much I wanted her right now.

  I lifted the book back up because if I wasn’t going to be having sex, then at least I could read about someone who was.

  That was probably why women read them too. I couldn’t say I blamed them.

  I was just getting back into the story when Tessa stiffened and lifted her head.

  “Oh my God.”

  “What?”

  “I just realized I was sleeping on you.” She covered her face with her hands and slouched down in her seat. “Why am I always doing inappropriate things when it comes to you?”

  I sighed. “No, you are not.”

  “You’re my boss. I should not be sleeping on your shoulder.”

  I turned in my seat the best I could. Even in first class, I didn’t have a lot of room to rotate the way I’d like to. “Okay, so how about we be friends too?”

  She peeked at me through her fingers. “Go on.”

  I had to smile at her. “You’re only working for me for twelve weeks. And, yes, I’m the one in charge, but technically, you’re employed by your temp agency, not by my company. How about you and I decide right now that we’re friends? You’re a friend who is helping me out while my employee is out on maternity leave.”

  She dropped her arms and sat up. “I don’t know if that actually erases the boss-employee thing, but it does make me feel a little better.”

  “Good, because I like you, and I think we’ll be great friends.”

  “I know you’re only humoring me, but thank you.”

  “Whatever you say, ol’ buddy, ol’ pal.”

  Tessa laughed. “You’re a goofball.”

  “Thank you.”

  She looked down at my hands. “Is that my book?”

  I picked it up and wiggled it. “It sure is.”

  She held out her hand. “Can I have it back?”

  “Nope. We’re friends now, and friends let friends borrow books.”

  She surprised me by plucking it right out of my hands. “You’re right. But friends also ask before they borrow.”

  A couple of hours later, our Uber pulled up in front of our hotel. As we rolled our luggage into the lobby, Tessa yawned again.

  “You’re tired? But you took a nap on the plane.”

  “It is almost eleven o’clock our time. Nap or no nap, I am ready for bed. I’ve been up since six this morning.”

  So had I, but I was used to getting little sleep.

  When we reached the counter, the gentleman standing there asked, “Checking in or checking out?”

  “Checking in, please.”

  “Name?”

  “Seth Crawford.”

  “One moment.” He turned to his computer and started clicking away. He smiled. “I found your reservation. It looks like it’s for six nights.” He looked from me to Tessa. “And it’s for two. Is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sounds good.” A few more clicks on the keyboard, and a minute later, he was sliding two key cards over the counter. “Here you go.”

  “Which one goes to which?” I asked.

  “Pardon me?”

  “Which card goes to which room?” I frowned, realizing that he hadn’t even said a room.

  The man looked startled. “I’m sorry, sir, but there is only one room booked under your name. The presidential suite.”

  I turned to Tessa. “Didn’t you book two rooms?”

  I knew I had just said we were friends on the plane, but I wasn’t sure we should share a room. More because I was attracted to her and worried I couldn’t keep my hands off of her than about propriety.

  She straightened. “Yes.” She chewed her bottom lip and slowly closed her eyes. “Oh shit.” She opened them. “No, I didn’t. I was trying to do more than one thing at a time, and I think I only reserved the suite.”

  “It’s okay,” I told her. “We can ask for another room now. I’m sure it will be fine.”

  I turned back to the man behind the counter. By the look on his face, he was worried about something.

  “I’m sorry, sir, ma’am. We have two conferences this week. We are completely booked. I thought you were taking the presidential suite because it was the only thing left.”

  I remembered I was wearing a T-shirt and jeans—expensive T-shirt and jeans—but they weren’t a business suit. I could see why he had come to the conclusion that I had taken the suite as a last resort rather than something I had asked for.

  “I know it isn’t ideal, but I will just go to another hotel,” Tessa said. She looked at the man. “Is there a waiting list I can get on in case something opens up?”

  “No,” I replied.

  Tessa swung her head to me. “What?”

  “No.” I didn’t care if we were stuck in the same room together. This proposal was too important. In fact, having her so
close might help us get more work done. “I have a suite, which usually means more than one bedroom.” I shot a questioning look at the man helping us.

  “Two bedrooms, sir. And a pullout sofa in the main area.”

  “See, two bedrooms. There’s no need for you to get another room at a different hotel when you can stay with me.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  It was one working week. We were adults. I could control my base instincts for one week, right?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tessa

  The ride up to our room was total silence, and I was worried Seth was mad at me. I had really messed up, and it had happened because I was texting with my friend about Seth and frosting.

  The amount of guilt I felt right at that moment was eating away at me. I didn’t care what he had said on the plane about being friends. Something was wrong with me when it came to Seth. I was always messing up.

  We reached the hotel room, where the bellhop opened the door for us.

  “Off to the left is the largest of the two bedrooms. It has an en suite bathroom. To the right is the second bedroom, and next to it is the second bathroom.”

  “Thank you,” I said softly.

  “Thank you,” Seth said and pulled some money from his wallet.

  “Is there anything else you need, sir?”

  “No, nothing at this time.”

  The bellhop turned to me. “Ma’am? Is there anything I can get you?”

  “No, thank you.”

  The bellhop nodded and left the room. The sound of the door closing behind him was deafening.

  But Seth didn’t seem to notice. He grabbed the handle of his suitcase and rolled it into the bigger of the two bedrooms.

  Feeling overwhelmed, I took my suitcase into the other bedroom and texted Alexis.

  Me: Remember on Friday, when we were joking about frosting? Yeah, well, I messed up and forgot to book myself a room at the hotel. Now, I’m in Seth’s suite—it has two bedrooms—and I’m pretty sure he’s mad at me.

  Alexis: Oh no! I’m so sorry! I take the full blame for messaging you naughty stuff.