The Irresistible Billionaire

Chapter 16

I was already in the lobby before the clock struck twelve. At noon. I'm no princess, there’s no prince on a white horse, and definitely no magic. Just me—and my awkward self.

I stood next to a chair, both hands clutching my luggage and everything I bought with Johnny’s money.

From where I stood, I could see my faint reflection in the glass wall. I was still wearing that bright maxi dress, but I’d thrown on some lovely printed leggings and a purple cardigan. My hair was up in a neat, low bun, and of course—my glasses.

Honestly, I could say I’m a head-turner in this getup. But everyone kept crunching their noses and shooting me judgy looks.

People…

“Cassidy North!”

Ugh. That familiar annoying voice came from behind me. I didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was.

Daniel Miles. Johnny’s older cousin.

If Johnny’s bad, Daniel is the worst.

“Come on, girl. Give Daddy Danny a big hug!” He threw his arms open and wrapped me up in them before I could escape. “I missed you! You look tinier than before. How long has it been since we met?” He rocked me side to side like an orange being juiced.

I groaned, pushing him off me. “It was literally two weeks ago. Stop being dramatic. And please don’t touch me like that—it’s making me feel icky.” I dusted myself off like he’d rubbed dirt on me.

“So huffy. Did my panty-collector cousin slurp all the patience outta you? You’re getting crankier by the minute.” He peeked into my bag like it was his business.

To answer that—no. Johnny didn’t slurp it out. He juiced it out of me. Generously, in fact.

I lost count of how many times he made me come before dawn. But who cares? We’re at war now.

“Maybe,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “But if you can’t keep your hands to yourself, I might lose whatever’s left of my sanity and blame it on you, Sir Danny.”

He gave me a coy grin as he flopped dramatically onto the couch. His soft chin-length blond bob bounced like he was in a shampoo commercial, perfectly framing that disgustingly ethereal face.

“What are you even doing here? Ran out of girls to flirt with, so now you’re here to annoy me?”

Of all the jerks in this blessed family, Daniel’s the only one I can actually banter with. Just like Johnny—but less flirty and more… self-aware. Johnny’s brain floats in space and only returns to Earth when he’s high on s*x.

To put it short, I should probably avoid the rest of his cousins altogether.

“Is it wrong to give attention to a beautiful lady like you?” he winked.

I groaned and looked away. Now I take it back what I said about him.

“I heard from Johnny there’s a new architect in his company,” he added, repeating whatever gossip he picked up. “Big bear-looking guy. Seems nice. But—and I quote—not that handsome. Looks like he could pass as gay. Not my words.” He lifted his hands like he's surrendering.

“Stefano Sinclair. He’s from Miami. He’s done tons of amazing projects there,” I replied, and Daniel’s smug smirk told me I’d walked into something. “He’s brilliant. Whoever told you that is clearly jealous.”

And I think I know exactly who’s out here flexing his testosterone.

Daniel bit his lip, trying to hide his grin. “Bet he’s got a kind face.”

“With manners to match,” I said proudly.

“Ooh, the well-mannered secretary’s got heart eyes for the well-mannered architect?”

I made a face. “There’s nothing going on between me and Stefano. He’s just being nice to me. Like… nicer than anyone’s ever been.”

“No wonder…” he muttered with a snicker. “First-name basis, huh?”

I frowned, but before I could bite back, his gaze flicked past my shoulder—and then I caught the scent of trouble. The perfume of a walking talking jerk had me rubbing my nose.

Johnny.

“Where are the others?” Johnny asked, brushing past me like I was air.

“Still suffering from a s*x hangover, but as of now, I think they're already cussing at us for making them wait,” Daniel replied, casually wiggling the foot propped on his knee. “How about you, got some hangover?”

“No.” Johnny’s voice was cold as steel. He checked his watch. “It wasn’t memorable. Like 'nothing' happened at all.” I could feel him side-eyeing me behind his shades.

I nearly scoffed. Good thing I was holding my purse. If I wasn’t, my hand would’ve smacked the back of his head and cause him concussion.

“I had to do all the work,” he added, stuffing both hands into his pockets and glancing anywhere but at me.

“Work?” I echoed with a sneer. “As far as I know, there’s not a single cell in your body capable of working. Who’s running your company, may I ask?”

Daniel made a teasing "ooh" sound, clearly entertained, probably wishing for a bowl of popcorn.

Johnny finally looked at me. Eyebrow raised. Congratulations to him—he’s not blind.

“Sorry?” he demanded. His face soured like spoiled milk. Acidic.

“I said you’re really reliable in business, sir,” I replied sweetly, then dropped the dog smile.

He pulled down his sunglasses lower and scanned me up and down with judgmental eyes. “What the f**k are you wearing?”

“Clothes,” I shot back, deadpan.

His jaw clenched so hard it could slice mirrors. “My morning’s already trash, Cassidy. Don’t push me.”

“I’m just answering your very obvious question, sir.”

Johnny was about to explode, but Daniel swooped in like a savior. “The car’s here. You two can consider killing each other after takeoff.” He stepped between us.

“If I throw him out midair, will you report me, Sir Danny?”

Daniel let out a loud laugh. "Of course, Cassy babe, you know I'd totally cover for you." He elbowed Johnny, who only got sulkier. "Come on, a real gentleman would help you with your bags."

To my surprise, he actually took that seriously and started leading the way outside.

I followed, ignoring the glare Johnny shot his cousin.

“Mademoiselle,” Daniel said with a dramatic accent, opening the door for me and handing my bag to the chauffeur.

I rolled my eyes and got in.

“What are you, her butler?” Johnny muttered, sliding in next to mme

"See you two lovebirds at the airport. I’ve got my own ride," Danny said, pointing at the car behind us. "Have a happy twenty-minute drive!" he added before shutting the door.

And then—silence.

The divider between the back seat and the driver was closed. Only faint orchestral music played from the speakers, barely filling the space between us.

"Nothing happened last night, huh?" he sneered, pulling off his sunglasses and turning to face me.

I didn’t look at him. He was going to have to earn that.

I lifted my chin.

He’s not the only one with pride. I’ve got mine too. He’s not special—just a pretty face blessed with a perfect banana that tore through my hymen like a wrecking ball.

I heard him scoff. "Where’s your tongue, Miss Secretary?"

It’s in my mouth, thank you very much. The same tongue that explored the map of his mouth. The same one he sipped from and wrestled with like we were in a kissing war.

"I asked you a question..." he said softly, but with perfect enunciation. Just enough dominance to make his point clear.

What made me tighten my grip on my bag wasn’t his voice though—it was the way his hand slid onto my thigh.

My breath hitched at the contact. Instant flashbacks. The way he’d held me. Touched me. Owned me.

"And when I ask you a question," he said, "you answer."

"You asked a rhetorical question. How am I supposed to answer that?" I snapped, pushing his hand off me. "And I thought we were strangers today. Why are you even talking to me?"

That must’ve been the last string holding him back, because he let out a sharp exhale, yanked me off my seat, and straddled me on his lap in one swift move.

"Johnny!" I gasped, slapping his chest, but he caught my wrists and pinned them behind me.

"Yes. Scream my name like you did last night."

He grabbed the back of my head and pulled me into a kiss.

It felt like eating something sweet with a minty kick and a surprise chocolate center—intense, addictive, wrong.

"Johnny..." I moaned, yanking my hands free and pushing against him—only to be dragged back into the kiss. "What are we doing?" I asked, drunk on his lips, breathless.

He didn’t answer. Just kept kissing me like I was the only flavor he ever wanted to taste. .. again.

"Wait—Johnny—stop..." I mumbled between kisses.

"You don’t want it?" he asked, voice low, words hot and serious.

I pulled away, eyes barely staying open. "This is wrong. I... I don’t want this," I whispered, catching my breath.

He kissed me again—just a small peck. I responded before I even knew I had.

"You don’t want this?"

I shook my head, but my fingers clenched his shirt tight. My mouth said no, but my body... my body didn’t get the memo. I'm pulling him close.

"Then stop kissing me back, Cassidy. Stop letting me kiss you," he warned, then captured my lips like they belonged to him.

My brain was screaming red flags, blaring warning signs—but I ignored them all.

Johnny groaned into my mouth when I started grinding against his hardness, shamelessly aching and needy.

One hand cradled the back of my head, deepening the kiss, while the other guided my hips to move against him, slow and sensual.

I was losing it again. Losing control.

But before it could go from hot to volcanic, the car suddenly stopped.

I jerked away and scrambled to fix myself. Just as I got decent, the door on my side opened.

Daniel stood there, squinting in the sunlight, looking way too cheerful for someone who just interrupted something...

Behind him stood a row of rich men who looked like Johnny’s clone army—handsome, smug, and very likely walking s*x scandals but easily get away with just a lift of their lips.

Why the hell am I even here?

I swallowed hard, eyes wide, totally frozen—while Johnny? That jerk was leaning back, exposing his boner and silently laughing.

"Sup?" Daniel greeted casually, eyes shifting between us. "If you two are gonna lie about what just happened, at least try not to make it so obvious. You suck at hiding things."

My jaw dropped. I pushed Danny out of my way like he was contagious. "What are you talking about?!" I snapped, already gearing up to deny everything.

Daniel just grinned and shrugged, shifting his attention from me to Johnny—who stepped out of the car like he was born on a damn runway.

Then I saw it.

Lipstick smudges.

My lipstick.

On his lips.

And Daniel saw it too. And his cousins.

"Oh... I think I’m gonna faint," I muttered—before the entire universe blinked out of existence.