My Grumpy Billionaire (The Lasker Brothers #2)

by Nadia Lee

To all the people who make the world a better place.

Wait a minute. “Did you just say babies?”

She nods and gives me that smile again. And I know that whatever comes out of her mouth next is going to upend my life. Permanently.

“You’re having tr...

People with nothing to lose are impossible to reason with.

I smile. Damn, I look good.

dress code is “wear what you want within reason,”

I don’t have time for this. But my mother’s drama doesn’t happen according to my convenience and schedule. If I ignore her summons, she’ll have an episode and check herself into a hospital for chest pain or some other catastrophe that will drag on for at least a week. Afterward, she’ll not only make sure I hear about it, but start contacting reporters to tell them who her son is and why he is cruelly abandoning her in her time of need.

I count slowly to three, all the while wondering what the hell I did to deserve this punishment.

Exactly on three, she starts sobbing into her hands. Actually, not her hands. Rachel Griffin does not cry into her hands like a common woman. She sobs into a white silk handkerchief with her initials embroidered in pale lavender.

If I had a choice, I would’ve picked a normal, everyday American couple from some staid and boring Midwest town for parents. And if I absolutely had to have famous parents, I’d have chosen Adriana Mitchell and her husband Don Kasher. They’re the most wholesome couple in Hollywood, doing charity work and promoting family values for various brands.

But instead, I got a degenerate Hollywood movie producer and overly dramatic former supermodel who’s trying desperately to cling to her youth and influence.

My bank account has more than enough zeros to set any self-respecting gold digger’s heart aflutter.

She prefers them young and flashily handsome—in other words, Instagrammable.

Mom confuses need with respect, and doesn’t understand that respect can’t be bought. It has to be given because you did something worthy. Because you’re a person of accomplishment.

Putting a young child through what I had to go through around my parents should earn you jail time.

He’s here to save you. Chivalry isn’t dead!

I’m not usually a violent person, but something about the way this man came to my rescue and protected me is hot, especially when the heroic act is combined with lethal skills. He’s as casual as if he just ate a sandwich. It’s the utter confidence and control he’s displaying. Plus he risked himself to save me. Now I understand why Ellie auto-buys romance novels with bodyguards and protectors in them. I’m never teasing her about it again.

When God created him, He did it so I could appreciate him. Why else would He have created such a fine specimen?

Maybe the Midnight God is the universe’s way of saying, “Sorry we paired you with that butthole. Here’s a premium male to help you forget him.”

I’d love to hold her the entire time.

For some bizarre reason, I don’t want to dump Purple Girl. She’s resting her head on my shoulder and smells divine. Like an apple orchard, but better. My violaceous vixen.

Just to let you know, if anybody ever complained you were too heavy, it’s because he’s a wimp.”

Even if she knows who I am, as long as we have masks on, we can pretend.

“Wait, what about my floor?”

I should let her return to her room, but I don’t want to let her go. Not yet.

“Why don’t I ice your ankle first? You said your friend isn’t here yet, and it’ll be awkward...

“Oh… So that’s why you asked that man to sen...

“...

“I think it’ll be okay if I just elevate it f...

“I doubt it. Trust me.” But she’s probably correct. It’s just that icing will make it feel better faster, and also gives me an...

“Trust you...

“Yes. And let me take car...

The Midnight God knows exactly what to say to slice right past my defenses and slide into my heart.

It isn’t like I’m trying to marry the Midnight God. I just want to see where this chemistry between us goes. We both have masks on. We haven’t exchanged names. And I’m in another city that might as well be a galaxy far, far away.

I’ve never fallen into a bed with a guy I just met, but then, I’ve never met a guy who made me feel like this.

I want to be dazzled…lost in him.

“I want you,”

“I want you too.”

When his head starts to migrate downward, I swallow with anticipation at having his mouth close around my nipples. But instead, he presses hot kisses between them and moves lower until he’s kissing the soft flesh of my belly, like he can’t love me enough there. It’s surprising, because most guys I’ve been with avoided my belly, like it wasn’t the main attraction. But not the Midnight God. He’s kissing me like every inch of me is worthy of his worship.

“You don’t have to go down on me.”

“Why not?”

“Um.” I don’t want to tell him I’m frigid with oral sex, but… “There...

“And we’ll explore th...

And his cock… Oh my. We could use it as a dildo model. It’s so long, so thick. Tipped with the most perfectly shaped head. I want it. And I want him.

There’s a loud curse, and he returns to the bed within a second, looking at me with his mouth absolutely flat.

“What’s wrong?”

“The condom broke.” His voice is calm, but there is a hint of oh-shit and please-don’t-pa...

“Oh. Uh… Well, are yo...

He opens and closes his mouth. “Yes,” he says after a ...