The Billionaire: Forbidden Sex Love

Jo’s maturity was something that constantly shocked me.

I never felt like I was speaking to a college student. She had more intellect than half the attorneys I worked with.

“You will be.” I grinned. “I have no doubt about that. Once you pick the opportunity that feels best to you, you’re going to flourish.”

She said nothing as she gazed at me, her lids eventually narrowing. “It’s not that easy.”

“No?”

She shook her head as the waitress approached.

“Have you had a chance to look over the menu?” the waitress asked.

The thick binding was open in front of Jo, and she glanced up at me and said, “May I order for us?”

That was something no woman had ever done for me.

I was curious about what she would select and if it would meet my expectations.

But I still gave her the chance, handing my menu to the waitress, my stare fixed on Jo when I replied, “Impress me.”

“We’ll start with the ahi tuna, please,” Jo instructed. “We’ll then share the porterhouse, cooked medium, with a dry baked potato along with the au gratin potatoes, and an order of the marinated mushrooms.” She paused. “Can we have hollandaise and bearnaise sauce on the side?”

“Delicious choices,” the waitress responded. “Anything else?”

“Sage butter,” Jo said, selecting my favorite from their extensive butter list. “And we’ll also start with the bacon.”

My mouth watered-the bacon was one of the items this restaurant was known for.

“I’ll put the order right in,” the waitress said and disappeared from our table.

Jo turned in her chair, folding her arms over her chest, her legs crossed in the aisle between our table and the one next to us. “I did good, didn’t I?”

I shook my head, acting disappointed. “I was thinking of ordering the salmon.”

Without pause, she snapped, “Bullshit.”

I laughed. “I couldn’t have done better, honestly.”

I reached across the open space, my fingers landing on her thigh.

The move didn’t startle her-she had seen me coming.

But it startled me in the way she felt.

The warmth of her skin, the way it welcomed me.

The placement that felt so right.

So fucking perfect.

“How else can I surprise you tonight, Jenner?”

You just did.

But something told me she already knew that.

JOANNA

“D

o you go to the beach in California?” I asked Jenner as we sat in lounge chairs on the sand, the warm Florida sun shining down on us, the waves lapping not far from our feet.

South Beach wasn’t the dreamiest beach in Florida, but it was still so beautiful, calm, and relaxing.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

But the view had nothing on Jenner, not with his abs on full display, his pecs etched across the top of his chest.

My God.

That man was perfect.

No matter how hard I tried to look away, my eyes constantly went back to him. I was already staring when he rolled his neck toward me, blocking the sun even though he wore shades.

“No, never,” he replied. “My parents have a place in Malibu. You’d think we’d go there and spend more time outside.” He chuckled. “When we visit, we eat and then head right back to the city.”

“What a shame.”

He was quiet for a moment and said, “We should change that; you’re right.”

“Is it the lack of time or something else?”

He reached for his vodka soda, facing the water when he responded, “When you work with family, constantly making important decisions, your off time turns to shoptalk as well. Conversations about the weather turn to clients; talks about politics turn to employees.” He shook his head. “I just want mindless chatter with my family, and we can’t seem to make that happen. Before we even pour a drink, I’m already questioning how quickly I can get my ass back to LA. Jo … my brain just needs a break.”

“Wow.” I sat up, rubbing some more suntan lotion over my legs. “That has to be heavy, so mentally daunting.” I held my breath for a second. “I didn’t grow up in a house like that.”

“No?”

I squirted more lotion onto my hand and set the bottle on the table behind us. “Dad worked outside the home. Mom was an artist and had a studio off the garage. Their jobs were different animals, so their talks never seemed to go there.”

“I wonder what that would be like-if my parents had different careers and the three of us boys had taken other paths.” He put his arms behind his head. “What the hell would we talk about?”

I laughed. “The weather and politics.”

“Man,” he groaned, “that sounds even more boring than law.” He smiled as he gazed at me. “Do you have any siblings?”

I reached into my bag, pulling out one of my floppy hats, and secured it over my head. “Nope, just me.”

He rolled to his side, bending his arm, holding his face with his palm. “An only child, huh? What does that feel like?”

“In some ways, a lot like you and law-there’s pressure.”

“All the attention is on you.”

I nodded. “Exactly.” I held my fruity drink against my chest and watched the waves. “You know, my parents don’t have other children to speak about who can soften the blow, like Margie is in residency, Ralphie is working on Wall Street, but poor Jo is still trying to figure her life out.” I frowned. “I don’t have the luxury of figuring my life out. I need to give them talking points and reasons to be proud.” I took a long sip.

“No matter what you do, Jo, you’ll make your parents proud.”

“Maybe …” I gulped down another mouthful. “But what I can say is, being an only child has made me fiercely independent. I don’t need anyone to entertain me. I’m not afraid of silence or being lost in my own head. I’m also not afraid of being alone.”

Another major advantage was maturity, something that developed naturally, more so than my friends, because my parents never treated me like a kid.

I hoped Jenner felt that when he was around me-that despite being young, I was an old soul for my age.