Billionaire Misery Read Online Free PDF Page A

Craig grinning at her... cocky, sexy, and pleased with himself.
    “You’re a bastard,” she mumbled as she rolled onto her side closer to him.
    “Am I?” His arms wrapped around her body and he kissed the top of her head. “I thought you rather enjoyed that.”
    “I did.” Too much .
    “Good.”
    “I think you’re trying to kill me.”
    He chuckled as she used his words against him. “Only giving you what you deserve, sexy lady.”
    She smiled against his chest. He thought she was sexy? Something about the way he said it made it feel real. She stretched out against his body, and lifted her head so she could rest it on her hand like he had done earlier. “I’ll have to return the favor sometime.”
    An eyebrow rose on his handsome face. “Sometime?”
    She shrugged, playing it cool. “Yeah, maybe.”
    He chuckled low in his chest, and it sounded good. Like he didn’t get to laugh very often. His guard had come down slightly, and she knew this was her chance to get him to talk. A pang of guilt ran through her. She hadn’t slept with him to get information. But seizing the moment seemed like an opportunity she didn’t want to waste.
    She knew she had to tread lightly or lose him forever. She asked, cautiously, “So...how did you end up here?”
    It was the best possible way to start off a conversation. Start someone talking, and they’d eventually talk about everything as long as it was about them.
    “I rode.”
    She chuckled. “No, I meant how did you end up mixed in with a crew?”
    He shrugged. “I grew up with Morgan. We were foster kids.”
    She’d known that from his file. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “Fuck, I hated foster.”
    His face turned to hers, his eyes holding a surprised look. “You were a foster kid?”
    “I went in at fourteen.” The words hurt to say. That was a time she’d much rather forget. She never talked about. It was in her file, she was sure of it, but it didn’t mean she needed to talk about it. “My folks died. My dad died when I was twelve, and my mom died when I was fourteen. My grandparents didn’t want anything to do with me. My dad’s folks are...complicated, and my mom’s never forgave her for marrying a biker.”
    “A biker?”
    Her lips moved upward. “My dad was Big Red. He ran the Wildlings down in Florida.”
    Craig’s mouth dropped open. “Hot damn! Big Red’s a fucking legend. I heard he got killed in a really nasty—Fuck! I’m so sorry.”
    She nodded. “Me too.” Her eyes closed; pain shot through her. Nasty was an understatement.
    Craig’s hand found hers and held it. His fingers twined around hers and she let hers fold around his too. The feeling was nice, and she felt regret filter through her body. This could not ever come to anything. Before it was all over, Craig would be in prison and she would be gone, off to her next undercover job.
    Ever since she’d joined up with Nate’s crew, she had been having second thoughts about this whole thing. She wished she didn’t. It was too difficult to maintain her professional distance around men who reminded her so much of her father. She needed to remember her father and why she was there, but it was so damn hard.
    Especially when she was faced with a man like Craig.
    She watched their hands a moment. “How did you end up in foster?”
    “My parents were junkies. They just didn’t want me.” There was pain in his voice, but something else too.
    A sort of evasiveness that made a frown form on her face. Why would he lie about that? It was in his records, which she had seen, so he wasn’t lying. Was he just avoiding the reality of that statement by being glib? She didn’t press him. It wasn’t her business to do that. “You know what I hated the most?”
    “What?”
    “The trash bags.”
    Craig fell on his back and hooted with laughter. “You’d think they bought stock in the damn company, wouldn’t you? They give every kid a fucking trash bag. Really, why not give