Текст книги "The Billionaire and the Virgin"
Автор книги: Jessica Clare
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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 16 страниц)
Chapter Twenty-six
Marjorie felt Rob stiffen against her for a split second, and the next thing she knew, she had her back pressed to the wall of his bedroom and Rob was kissing her, his mouth hungry and passionate on her own.
And oh, sweet Mary, she’d missed him. She’d missed him so much. Hot tears began to trail down her cheeks even as she continued to kiss him, giving him every bit of pent-up passion she’d stored up in the last miserable month. His mouth licked at her own, his hands cupping her face even as his knee worked between hers. And it was frantic, and glorious and—
And her back was wet and sticky and when she turned her head, it made a squelching sound against the wall.
“Wet paint,” she murmured against his hot, insistent mouth, and then dove her tongue back between his lips.
Rob groaned against her, his cock grinding against her hips as he pressed her back against the wall. “Sorry. Actually, not sorry.” And he continued kissing her. “Does this mean you love me again?”
She nodded, her mouth frantic on his. “Never. Stopped. Loving. You.” She punctuated each word with a hard little kiss.
He groaned again. “God, I love you, sweetheart. I know I’m little better than a shit-stain on humanity, but I’m working to be the kind of man you can be proud of—”
“You are,” she reassured between quick nibbles on his lips. “You are, Rob. You’re wonderful. It’s me that’s the jerk.”
“No,” he breathed against her mouth, and then pulled away a little so he could look her in the eyes. His hands gripped the sides of her face, and his thumbs stroked her cheeks. “No, Marjorie. You were right to feel that way. Like I said, all my life, I never gave a shit about what anyone else thought. And then I met you and there was someone to impress. I wanted to make you proud. And I’ve never felt like that before.”
“I am proud of you,” she told him, breathless. “So, so proud. You did an amazing thing. I never expected it in a million years. I thought you’d forget about me once I left the island.”
“Forget about you?” He chuckled and shook his head. “If only I could. You’re constantly in my mind.” He kissed her again. “I take it back. I wouldn’t forget about you, even if I could do it. I love you. I adore you. I want you with me, always.”
“I love you, too. I love you so much, Rob.” She kissed him again, so very happy. Her heart felt like it was bursting at the moment. “I can’t believe you followed me out to New York.”
“Of course I did,” he told her, pressing his mouth against hers once more. “You were out here, so this was where I wanted to be.” Even as his mouth caressed hers, his gaze slid over to the side. “I think your ponytail is in my paint, though.”
“Does the shower work here?” she asked.
“Think so. But I don’t know that I have any towels.”
She glanced over at the bed. “How clean is that blanket?”
“Clean enough.” He grabbed her behind the knees and tugged her into his arms. Then, swinging her against him, he carried her to the bathroom.
Marjorie pressed her mouth against his neck, glorying in his scent. Even sweaty and streaked with paint, he smelled wonderful.
He groaned. “God, your mouth.” His hand slid to her back, and he gently set her down. “Don’t laugh at my seventies-tastic bathroom, sweetheart. I’m going to get this all remodeled.”
She looked up for the first time . . . and giggled.
The bathroom was awful. Really awful. The walls were a horrid mustard color that had been textured with a darker gold. The tile itself was a dark, stormy green and looked as if it was designed to be the same color as a dead frog. The counters were a matching swirling green and the mirror in front of the vanity had enormous ornate gilt edges. The shower was encased in mirrors—mirrors, of all things—and across the far side of the bathroom was a claw-footed tub.
“Oh wow,” she breathed. “This is really, really awful.”
“Isn’t it?” Rob chuckled. “I’m almost proud of its hideousness to the point that I want to leave it as an homage to the decade.”
“Please don’t,” she said, laughing. “Please.”
“All right,” he teased, and his arms went around her again. “But just for you, sweetheart.”
She smiled to hear the words, and her arms went around his neck again, and then they were kissing once more. His hands tugged at her shirt and she obediently pulled away from him and raised her arms so he could lift it over her head. It came off her skin wetly, and he grimaced as he pulled it off of her. “I hope this shirt wasn’t important to you, because it is now covered in paint.”
“I don’t care,” Marjorie told him, running her hands up and down his chest. “I would gladly sacrifice my entire wardrobe to the paint gods if it meant I get you in my arms again.”
“You don’t even have to go that far,” he told her, and his hands slid around her waist and down to her ass. “My requirements are easy.”
“What are they?”
His forehead pressed to hers and his nose rubbed against her own. “Just love me, Marjorie.”
Oh god, her heart was breaking. “I do,” she told him softly. “So much. There’s no one for me but you.”
“I feel the same.” He gently kissed her mouth, and his hands went to the back clasp of her bra. “And I can’t wait to get you naked again.”
She couldn’t, either. As he unhooked her bra, her hands slid down his back and then she pushed her fingers into the waistband of his loose pants. He still wore no underwear, which made her sigh with pleasure. Her hands plucked at his skin. “I want you undressed, too.”
“Let’s get some of this paint off you, first,” he said, and his mouth curved into a smile. “I’m not the one rolling around on the wall.”
“You pushed me against it,” she protested, even as she leaned back so he could undo the snap on her jeans. It came free and she wriggled them down her hips, just in time to hear his groan of pleasure. He’d noticed that her panties matched her bra, then? She had one pretty set of black-and-pink, see-through lingerie, and she’d worn it tonight.
“Just looking at you is killing me,” Rob told her, his hands caressing her skin as she stepped out of her jeans.
“Well, it’s your fault I have to shower,” she told him, and added a little wiggle into her movements as she stood up again. Her bra was unhooked on her back and still cupped her breasts in the front, and now she wore nothing but it and her panties. To tease him further, she turned around, stuck her bottom out a little, and began to slowly wiggle the panties down her hips.
“God damn,” he murmured, and his hands caressed her buttocks lovingly. “I thought your legs were gorgeous, but your ass is downright insane.” His fingers moved over her skin as she bared it, and when she stepped out of her panties, she let her bra drop from her shoulders, too. Then she turned and tugged her hair loose from the ponytail holder and stood in front of him in her paint-splattered glory. Rob pulled her naked body against him and ran his hands up and down her back. “So beautiful, and all mine. I am so goddamn lucky.”
She smiled and gave him another kiss, then reached between them for the buttons on his fly. “Now your turn.” His hands moved down to help her, and she batted them away. “Let me.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a chuckle, and put his hands on his head in an exaggerated motion.
“That’s better,” she told him, and slowly undid the first button of his fly. He had five, altogether—no zipper since he liked to go commando—and she took great, excruciating care in unbuttoning each one, letting the anticipation build. When she finally had the last button undone, she pushed her hand into his pants and cupped his hard dick, a hint of a blush heating her cheeks. “I see all of you missed me.”
“He missed you the most of all.” Rob’s hand tangled in her hair and he tilted her head back for another kiss, this one possessive and deep, even as her hand curled around his shaft.
She loved touching him, loved the feel of his warm skin against hers, the scent of him, everything. Just being here with him, in this ugly bathroom, covered in paint, made her so incredibly happy that she could scarcely breathe. “I love you, Rob,” she told him again.
“I love you, too,” he told her between kisses. “And I promise I’m not hiding anything else from you. No other ugly secrets, just me.”
She nodded. If this was going to work, they had to trust one another. And she was leaping, so she would trust him. Only time would tell, but she had faith in him, and she was content to see where things would lead. “Pants off?”
“Hell, yes.” He gave a shake of his hips and the jeans fell to the ground, and he kicked them off. “Shall we get in the shower?”
“Sure.” She eyed the mirrored monstrosity. “I’m not sure how you keep something like that clean, though.”
“I plan on getting paint all over it,” he said with a wicked grin. “Paint, and possibly an imprint of your ass-cheeks.”
She laughed and gave her head a small shake as he stepped into the shower to turn the water on. The pipes rattled and groaned and they exchanged a look of dismay. “Um, did you want to go back to my place?” Marjorie asked. “The bed folds out of the wall but the shower works.”
“Nope,” he said, and thumped one of the mirrors with his fist. The water immediately cut on, and he turned to give her a proud grin. “Let’s get that paint out of your hair before it dries.”
He offered her his hand and she took it, and the next few minutes, they spent washing paint off of each other’s bodies, and finger-combing it out of her hair. Rob only had one tiny bottle of hotel shampoo, and they used all of it on Marjorie’s hair to get it clean. They were all business for a few minutes, and she could tell when they were done with washing, because Rob’s version of cleaning got less effective and more frisky, his hands moving all over her body.
Not that she minded this in the slightest. Her soapy hands ran over his chest, and she felt downright possessive of him. This beautiful man was hers. She’d claimed him and he’d claimed her right back. And just being able to touch him at her leisure was the most decadent sort of pleasure. She slid her hands down to his hard penis, and curled her fingers around him.
Immediately, his hips flexed and he pumped into her hand.
Fascinated, she looked up at his face. His hands were tangled in her wet hair, still getting the paint out of it, but his eyes were closed and the look on his face was strained and intense.
Oh. She wanted to see more of that. She wrapped her fist around him tighter and stroked again, and he groaned as if in pain. Oooh. “I never got to third base on you,” she pointed out in a husky voice, rubbing her fingers around the thick crown of his penis. “Don’t you think it’s my turn?”
“God, yes. I—” He yelped and then she did, too—the water had turned ice cold. Marjorie gave a small squeal of misery, and they both quickly rinsed the soap off of their bodies and turned the water off, shivering. “Gonna get that fixed ASAP on Monday,” Rob said with a shiver. “Jesus.”
Marjorie wrapped her goose bump-covered arms over her breasts. “Where’s that blanket?”
“Coming right up,” Rob told her, and tiptoed out of the bathroom, dripping water everywhere. He returned a minute later with the blanket, and carefully wrapped it around her shivering body. “Let’s towel you off.”
He rubbed the blanket all over her body, then toweled at her hair to get the excess moisture out of it. As he dried her, she took one corner of the blanket and ran it over his skin, trying to dry him off. Of course, getting to run her hands all over his skin again just made her want to continue what she’d started in the bathroom. So as he toweled at her front, she dropped to her knees in front of him and put her hands on his thighs, indicating exactly what she wanted to do to him. “Dry enough, Rob?”
“Fuck, yes.” He tossed the wet blanket into a corner of the room. “Do with me what you will. I am at your mercy.”
She felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment, but curiosity and the desire to explore him outweighed any awkwardness she felt. Now that she was eye-level with things, third base seemed so much more intimate. She reached out and gripped him in her hand again, admiring the size of him against her fingers. “You’re very large.”
“A happily appropriate compliment to hear,” he said, dragging his fingers through her wet hair and then caressing her cheek. “And you’re very beautiful, sweetheart.”
She snorted. “You don’t have to compliment me. I’m going to go down on you regardless.”
“It’s not just for that,” he said. “I just love looking at you kneeling in front of me. Any man would.”
“Well, you’re the only one I want.”
“Thank fuck for that.”
She gave him another squeeze with her hand to silence him.
“Am I breaking your concentration? I’ll shut up.” He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. “Feel free.”
A tiny smile curved her mouth. Rob seemed to have a hard time being quiet in the bedroom. It was rather cute. She released his penis and explored him with her fingertips instead, circling one around the purple-reddish crown of his cock, to the tiny dimple in the center that always leaked droplets of pre-cum whenever she touched it. She traced the vein that ran along his shaft all the way down to his ball sac, and she caressed that with her fingers. His skin here was so soft, velvety smooth, really. And hot. Scorching hot to the touch.
It was fascinating. She remembered the taste of his come, but his skin smelled different. Muskier, not acrid. She’d bet it’d taste wildly different, too. “What do you taste like?”
“Fuck if I know. I’ve never licked my own dick.” His hand reached out and caressed her cheek again, then he dragged his thumb across her lower lip. “How about you taste it and tell me?”
She could do that. In fact, she planned on doing that, and more. She leaned forward and brushed her lips against the head of his cock. Pre-cum slicked her lips and she ran her tongue over them, tasting him. It was the same salty, slightly harsh taste as before, but this time she didn’t mind it quite so much. She licked him again, experimenting, and loved the ragged groan that erupted from him.
“Pop me into your mouth, sweetheart,” he instructed. “Rub my dick with that tasty little tongue of yours.”
That sounded like a good idea, Marjorie decided. So she curled her fingers around the base of him and guided his length toward her mouth. She let the crown push against her lips before she parted them, adding a bit of friction. He seemed to like it, because he kept making low noises in his throat, and that encouraged her to keep going. As she took him into her mouth, she remembered to keep her tongue pressed against his length, and rubbed it back and forth as she did so.
“Christ, you’re good at that,” he told her, voice rough.
She was good at this? She wanted to do more.
Her hands caressed his sac, and she marveled at his soft skin. “Do you like it when I touch these?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said with a sigh. “I jerked off once to the thought of you licking me there.”
He had? She had to admit, the thought was titillating. Making her tongue a tiny point, she licked the soft skin there. He tasted more musky here, and the skin seemed softer, if that was possible. Rob groaned again, and his hands went to her shoulders, then smoothed back to her arms again, as if he didn’t want to bother her.
That was . . . kind of adorable. So she licked and sucked and nibbled on the smooth skin there, and even tried to get one into her mouth. That effort was rather clumsy, but he seemed to like it quite a bit. “My gorgeous amazon,” he murmured. “God, I love you.”
She nuzzled him in response, then licked the base of his cock. Then, she licked her way back to the front and began to tongue the crown again, collecting the pre-cum there with her tongue.
His hands curled in her wet hair. “Mind if I guide your head a little?”
She gave a tiny nod, and he began to rock his hips. His penis moved back and forth over her tongue, and she tried to take him deeper into her mouth, to see how far she could suck on him. Immediately, though, her gag reflex kicked in and she pulled back, coughing.
“Even that’s sexy,” he told her, crouching down to kiss her mouth. “Third base is over, though. I want to play with you, now.” With that, he pushed her backward onto the air mattress and tucked their bodies together. They lay side by side for a moment, and his hand slid between her legs. “Did taking me in your mouth make you wet?”
She pressed her thighs together, considering, and then nodded. Just touching him made her wet, and his kisses drove her wild.
“I’m going to have to check, of course,” he said, pushing his hand between her thighs to cup her mound. A moment later, he groaned. “Fuck, you are dripping for me, aren’t you?”
“I am,” she breathed, feeling shy. He was so blatant in the bedroom; it was still something she was getting used to. She liked it, but she still felt a little tense when he said naughty things to her.
His mouth covered hers again, and he slicked his tongue against hers. “Forgot to ask you what I tasted like,” he said. “So what’s the verdict?”
She considered for a moment, even as he began to press kisses down her neck and made a beeline for her breasts. “You taste a little bit like skin, and sweat, and um . . . like you. I don’t know how to describe it.”
“As long as the answer’s not ‘boiled hotdog’ I’m fine with that,” Rob told her, and gave a blatant lick to one of her nipples. “God, I missed these breasts. Did they miss me?”
Marjorie giggled. “I guess.”
“Clearly they’re going to need some attention to make up for the lack of love they’ve been receiving lately.” He glanced up at her. “Unless you’ve been pinching them when you masturbate in honor of me?”
“Rob,” she moaned. “Don’t ask me things like that.”
“Are you kidding? I love the thought of you thinking about me and touching yourself. I love the thought of your hand sneaking down here,” he pressed against the seam of her sex, “and you toying with this little nub here.” His fingers touched her clit. “Maybe you rub it, and rub it, and rub it . . .” he gave her clit a circular, teasing little touch with each repeat of the word rub until she was moving along with his hand. “And then you scream my name when you come, hmm?” His tongue swirled around one of her nipples again. “I’d love to see that sometime. Promise the next time you masturbate, you let me watch.”
“Only if you promise the same,” she panted. Her fingers dragged over his shoulders, and she pulled him down against her. “I want to see that, too.”
“I think we can manage that,” he told her, and rubbed her clit again. She felt him nudge a finger at the entrance to her core, and parted her legs for him. Ever since they’d slept together, she’d been positively aching to feel him deep inside her again. It had been such an intense, filling sensation, and she craved more of it. His finger pushed in and she felt a little bit of stretching, but it was quickly gone. “More,” she told him, raising her hips in supplication. “I want you inside me again.”
“I’m just making sure you can handle me, sweetheart.” He pushed another finger inside her, and then began to slowly work them in and out. “Though you’re so wet I don’t think it’ll be a problem. Christ, I love how turned on you get. That’s so fucking sexy.” He leaned down and nipped at her breast. “Wait here and I’ll get a condom.”
She nodded and he disappeared out of the room. A long moment passed, and a naughty thought sprang to mind. Greatly daring, she slid a hand between her legs and began to touch herself, the way she did when she masturbated. Light, delicate touches into the wetness seeping from her core, then swirling it around her clitoris, gliding over the sensitized skin. She spread her legs wide on the air mattress so when he returned, he’d be able to see exactly what she was doing.
And her cheeks felt hot as fire, but it’d be worth it to see Rob’s expression.
“Found one,” he called as he came into the room, a small purple packet in hand. “I had to dig out my wallet and . . . holy fuck.” He staggered next to the bed. “Oh, sweet Jesus, that is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
She giggled at his response, but she kept touching herself. Her skin was sensitized from their earlier play, and her breathing was quick, her nipples taut. She was going to make herself come if he didn’t touch her soon. “I missed you,” she told him shyly and drew her hand away.
“Oh Christ, no, don’t stop,” he said, dropping to his knees. He pushed her thighs apart and buried his face between her legs. “Now I have to see you come.”
She moaned as he began to lick her with eager intensity. Okay, she hadn’t quite been expecting this response, but oh wow, his mouth felt incredible. Her hips jerked as he flicked his tongue against her clit and his fingers pushed inside her again. When he rocked them into her, she moaned and pressed her hips up against his mouth, and his tongue flicked at her clit again. “Oh,” she breathed. “Rob, I’m going to—”
He hummed something against her skin. It might have been assent. It might have been “Yankee Doodle Dandy” for all she knew. But the vibration of the hum against her skin? It was glorious. With a breathy cry, she began to come, her sex clenching around the two fingers he had buried deep inside her, all the while he tongued her clit with rapid, teasing little strokes.
The delicious, soul-shattering orgasm seemed to last forever, and when he’d wrung out the last little shiver from her, he gave her mound one last kiss and then sat up, picking the condom up again from where he’d tossed it down on the bed. She watched in fascination as he opened the package and unrolled the sheath onto the length of his hard penis. Then, when it was covered, he leaned in on his hands and gave her another deep, wet kiss that tasted of her skin.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded, and immediately she felt the press of his penis against her core. Anticipation flashed through her, and she clung to his neck, kissing him ravenously as he pushed into her. This time, he didn’t move slowly or delicately. This time, it was a full thrust into her, and the feel of it was shocking. She made a soft little squeak in the back of her throat as he seated himself in her.
His mouth lifted from hers and concern showed on his face. “All right, sweetheart?”
Oh, but the feel of him was more than all right. She felt filled, in all the ways she’d been longing for during the past month. He was inside her so very deep and she ached and craved more at the same time. “It’s perfect,” she told him honestly.
Rob groaned, and he leaned in to kiss her again, his mouth moving over hers even as he began to pump into her with sure, quick strokes. The air mattress groaned and protested under them, but they were oblivious to it. Marjorie moved her hips in time with his, trying to match his pace despite the shaking of her legs. It felt like another orgasm was building inside her . . . or maybe the last one just hadn’t stopped. Either way, she whimpered and ran her hands over every inch of Rob’s skin that she could touch. Her motions became frantic as his strokes increased with intensity. “Need you,” she murmured. “Need more. I’m close again.”
He nodded and leaned back, and to her surprise, he grabbed her by the hips and turned her onto her side. He scissored her legs apart and stroked into her again, one arm holding her leg high into the air against his body. It changed the angle of his thrusting, and she moaned because it made her feel more full than ever.
“That feel good?” he panted.
She nodded, biting her lip. Everything felt good. It was like he knew just how to touch her and make her body sing with desire.
“I’m about to make it feel better,” he said, and began to stroke faster. He pumped into her harder than usual, and to her surprise, the sensation began to make everything else react. She moaned and clung to the mattress as he made love to her with sure, rough speed.
And then she was coming, every nerve ending alight with feeling, every bone in her body turning to mush. Marjorie cried out Rob’s name.
“I’m there, too,” he panted, and his strokes grew wild, uneven, his movements exaggerated. He groaned and held her in place for a long moment, his eyes closed tightly, and she realized he was coming, too. She wondered how it’d feel to have him come inside her without a condom.
Someday, they’d test that.
For now, she was content to have him lie down next to her, breathing hard. He pulled her against him and she watched idly as he removed the condom and put a new one on. When they spooned, he pushed his cock inside her again, linking their bodies.
“This is new,” she murmured.
“I’m not done with you yet,” he told her. “Stay the night?”
She snuggled down against him. “Of course.”
He brushed aside her wet hair and kissed the side of her neck. “Stay forever?”
Her heart felt incredibly full. She nodded. “Always.”
***
The next morning, Marjorie dressed in her paint-ruined clothing and Rob packed an overnight bag. Hand in hand, they headed out of his building and walked to her apartment. They’d decided last night—somewhere between marathon sessions of loving—that Rob would stay with her until the renovations on his penthouse were done, and then she’d move in with him. It sounded perfect to Marjorie’s ears, but she knew Rob was a little worried that if he was back in her life, he’d fuck things up for her with her job as Brontë’s assistant.
So today, she was going to have to leap again, and take Rob with her.
Marjorie and Rob showered at her place and combed the last bits of paint out of their hair, and she changed into a casual maxidress and a pair of strappy heels. Then, she invited Brontë to meet her for lunch at their favorite spot. Bring Logan, she texted her. I have something I need to discuss with both of you.
All right, Brontë sent back. Do I get a hint?
No hints! Just keep an open mind. And whatever you might think, it’s not a business meeting.
Curiouser and curiouser! We’ll be there. Logan’s meeting me for lunch today anyhow, so this works out perfectly. See you soon!
“You sure you want to do this, sweetheart?” Rob asked her as they headed out the door to her apartment.
“No,” she told him honestly. “I’m really not sure at all. But I don’t want to live in fear of what they’re going to think, and we’re not going to sneak around behind anyone’s back anymore. If they don’t like it, they’ll just have to suck it up, won’t they?”
“Damn, that makes me hot when you say that,” Rob told her. “I think I like it when you take charge.”
She just gave his hand a gentle squeeze. She knew he was nervous. He said he didn’t care what Logan Hawkings thought of him, but she suspected otherwise. He wanted the man’s respect, if nothing else. Marjorie hoped Logan would have an open mind about things, or this afternoon was going to be very, very awkward.
They arrived at the cafe early and got a table in the back, tucked away from the lunch rush. Rob fidgeted in his seat next to her, but Marjorie was serene.
She knew what she wanted—Rob. Everything else was just going to have to fall into place and cope.
Soon enough, the cafe began to fill with customers, and Marjorie watched the door as Rob fiddled with his phone with his right hand, the fingers of his left interlaced with hers under the table. As she watched, she spotted Brontë’s dark curls, followed a half step behind by the taller Logan.
“They’re here,” she murmured to Rob, and stood up to wave at her friend.
Rob slowly stood at her side, and as Brontë and Logan approached the table, she saw their expressions change to dismay as they saw who she was with.
Marjorie raised a hand as they approached the table. “Before anyone says anything, this is not about business. This is about me. And I’d like for you both to hear me out before anyone says anything else.”
Brontë and Logan exchanged a look. The billionaire looked pissed, Marjorie noticed, but Brontë laid a calming hand on his sleeve and he shrugged, impatience stamped into his features. He pulled his chair out for his wife and then sat down, and Marjorie sat again too. Her hand found Rob’s under the table again and she gave him a confident smile that she didn’t entirely feel at the moment.
“What’s going on?” Brontë asked, her voice as polite and friendly as ever.
Marjorie kept smiling. “I just wanted you guys to know that Rob and I are back together.” She looked over at him, her gaze filled with love. “We reconciled yesterday, and since I know things left off badly the last time we were all together, I thought we should hash things out. The truth of the matter is that Rob is exactly the person who he says he is . . . and I love him. He loves me with all my flaws, and I love him. And we wanted to bring this out into the open, because no one is hiding anymore.” She licked her lips, her throat suddenly dry. “And he’s going to be a major, major part of my life, so you’re just going to have to accept him.”
Brontë’s eyes widened, and a tiny smile touched her mouth. She looked over at Logan.
Logan was stone-faced for a long moment. He studied Marjorie, and then his gaze slid back to Rob, who was being unnaturally silent. Only the squeeze of his hand told her his true feelings.
Then, Logan cleared his throat. “I read about what you did with the Cannon Networks. Sold for a billion?”
“Bill point two,” Rob said.
Logan grunted. “And you gave it all to charity?”
“Three charities, actually. One got the majority, but yeah. Two sister charities got an equal share.” He shrugged, and Marjorie knew he was pretending an ease he didn’t feel.
“Why?” Logan’s question was succinct. “You never struck me as the charitable type.”
“Because Marjorie hated who I was,” Rob told him. “And I wanted to become someone that she could be proud of. That seemed like the logical first step.”
“So you gave away a billion dollars for Marjorie?”
“More or less.”
Well, this was getting awkward. She could feel her cheeks heating uncomfortably.
Logan grunted. He leaned back. “It takes stones to do something like that.”
“You’d do it for your wife,” Rob shot back.
