Mad about the Banker Read online

  Mad About the Banker

  (Modern Love #3)

  Piper Rayne

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  © 2017 by Piper Rayne

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  Cover design: RBA Designs

  Line Editor: RJ Locksley

  Proof Reader: Behind The Writer

  Contents

  Dedication

  FREE DOWNLOAD

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Epilogue

  Chapter One in REAL DEAL

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Also by Piper Rayne

  Dedication

  To the wild child in all of us!

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  THE BRUSH-OFF and JAILBAIT

  The Prequels to Charmed by the Bartender & Real Deal

  1

  I slam my portfolio down on the mahogany table at the Thirsty Monk. Whitney’s blue eyes widen and Tahlia’s white wine splashes in her glass. Her manicured hands stop it from spilling. Of course. I shouldn’t be surprised because her life is working out fucking fantastic.

  “What’s wrong?” Whitney asks, leaning forward in her ivory blouse and matching pant suit.

  My two best friends sit at the table, eyes zeroed in on me. They have everything going for them. Their dream careers, check. Dream guys, check. Okay, other than the fact that they each found their unicorn cocks, I’m not that jealous of the monogamy aspect of their life. I mean, one day, they’ll probably be envious of my ability to nail a new guy every week, but right now they’re thoroughly enjoying the one magical cock in the universe that can deliver the type of orgasms every girl dreams of—hence unicorn cock.

  “Another bank shot me down.” I sit my ass down in the booth and let out a long sigh. “I thought San Francisco was supposed to be liberal? Every banker has a rod up their ass, when if they’d just change it out for one of my dildos they’d probably be on their knees begging to invest in my sex toy company.” I slump in the seat.

  Whitney raises her hand for the waitress.

  A minute later, a whiskey neat is sitting in front of me. Yeah, we come here a lot. It’s where Whitney and Cole first met, not to mention it’s Cole’s bar that he bought from his dad’s empire. Long story, but just another example of how everyone gets their dream, except for me.

  I down the glass, enjoying the burn as it travels past my throat. I’ve probably been indulging a little too much lately, but there’s no one counting my drinks. Might as well add ‘drunk’ to my list of flaws.

  “Another one?” Tahl’s lips dip down and she reaches across the table to touch my hand in sympathy. “Do you want me to look at your business plan?”

  She offers with every decline and I refuse each time. She worked as vice-president of her father’s sausage company—I know, I can barely say that with a straight face—and now she’s started her own successful party-planning business. She’d probably redo everything I have, but I went to college too. Switched my major from art to business. Maybe not magna cum laude like Tahl, but I like to think I’m not the dullest pencil in the box. Plus, there’s a satisfaction of doing this on my own, without the help of my friends.

  “No. I got it.”

  The perky red-headed waitress drops off another whiskey neat, which I quickly lift to my mouth.

  “Cole’s outdone himself with this one.” I raise my cup up in the air and Whitney proudly smiles at my compliment toward her boyfriend.

  “He’ll be here in a few, so you can tell him yourself.” She sips her own mixed drink which I’m sure contains Rock Hard Whiskey—Cole’s distillery.

  “Great.” Any hint of excitement in my tone is void.

  “Lucas is, too. We thought we’d all go to the movies tonight,” Tahlia says, excitement bouncing through every octave in her voice.

  Another fifth wheel date? No thanks.

  “I might have other plans.” I eye the new bartender.

  Whitney and Tahlia both turn their heads and swivel back my way with huge grins.

  “Slade,” Whitney sighs. “He’s new.” Her voice is slow and sultry.

  “Hey, Cole.” I wave at the door like he’s actually here and Whitney’s back snaps straight, her eyes searching for him before they zero in on me. “You shouldn’t be ogling other men, Whit,” I say with fake seriousness.

  “I’m sure he looks at other girls,” she comments, leaning back in her chair and sipping her drink.

  “You think?” Tahl asks, clearly not as comfortable with the fact that her lover dearest Lucas’ eyes could stray for a second.

  Whitney’s brows crinkle. “Tahl, you don’t mind staring at Slade, do you?”

  Tahlia gives him another look over at the bar before turning her attention to us. “No, but I’m not thinking about going home with him.”

  Whitney laughs and I sit back, enjoying the exchange between my two friends, who have never truly enjoyed having casual sexcapades. They’re the ones who want marriage, kids, a house. I’m the odd man out when it comes to the three of us.

  “Of course not. It’s like when you go to a strip club. You look, but you’re more than happy to go home at night,” Whitney says.

  I scoff. “But I bet you bang your boyfriend like a naughty, naughty girl after the guy at the club has got you all horned up.”

  Both their eyes zoom to mine and I raise my eyebrows in a challenge. They know I’m telling the truth.

  “No,” Whitney argues, while Tahlia takes refuge in her glass of white wine.

  “Hmm… I think one of us does.” I laugh.

  Whitney turns to Tahl, but she’s so busy guzzling down her Moscato, she pretends she’s not paying attention. Whitney dips her head lower so she’s in Tahlia’s line of vision.

  “Once, okay. It was Chase so it doesn’t count.” She sips her wine again, her face matching her red blouse.

  “You can’t erase your past, Tahl, but I’m looking at you in a whole new light.” I raise my glass to her and sip my whiskey.

  She rolls her eyes and stares off, forever the débutante who is too self-conscious to be unleashed. “New topic, please,” she mumbles.

  “Let’s talk about the fact that you gave me one of your sex toys and only told my boyfriend about the app.” Whitney’s drink slams down on the table and she gives me an admonishing glare.

  A roar of laughter throttles out of me. “He finally did it, huh?”

&nb
sp; I’d secretly told Cole that he could control the toy with his phone. It’s the impromptu sex toys that I love so much.

  “In the middle of dinner with my grandparents! Now they think I loooove tuna casserole. Thanks.” Whitney tilts her head, but I’m too busy laughing to really see if she’s mad or not.

  “Great though?” I ask and Tahl leans forward, wanting the answer as much as I do.

  “Fucking awesome.” The corners of Whit’s lips turn up. “Brilliant, of course.”

  “So, write me a review on the product,” I remind her and she nods.

  “I’ll have Cole write one up too. I’m not sure which one of us got more pleasure from it.” The waitress brings another drink over to Whitney and then places chips and salsa on the table. Must be happy hour. “Make a guy version so I can give him a little payback.” She wiggles her eyebrows and I nod, agreeing.

  “Payback for what?” Cole asks, leaning over and giving his girlfriend a kiss.

  “Hey,” Lucas says, leaning down to give me a one-armed hug and then moving toward Tahlia.

  “Hey, guys,” I say, but each of them are busy saying hello to their unicorn cock owners.

  Lucas unbuttons his suit jacket, shrugging it off and placing it behind him on the chair. After he sits, he leans over and kisses Tahlia.

  “Hey, baby,” he says and she places her hands on his cheeks, leaning into his touch.

  Damn, they make monogamy look good.

  “So, Cole. Whit was just telling me about the app.” I stifle a laugh with my hand.

  This is where I should probably just leave and let them do their coupledom crap, but hearing a little praise about my sex toys takes precedence after the shitty week I’ve had.

  “Classic. Seriously, Len. You have a gift.” Cole smacks his hand on the table, rearing back in laughter.

  “What am I missing?” Lucas asks, taking a swig of the beer that the waitress just brought over.

  Like I said, we’re here a lot.

  “You didn’t give them one?” Cole asks me, as though it’s the latest toy on the market that everyone can get their hands on. That’s the idea, but capitalist motherfuckers are making it difficult.

  “Nope, just you two,” I say.

  “Oh, you gotta give him one.” Cole swings his gaze to Lucas. “There’s this toy that you have the girl wear and then an app controls it. Whitney practically had splinters under her fingernails from gripping the table so hard.” He’s like a kid who’s met his idol, pulling out his phone, demonstrating the pressure to Lucas.

  “How did you get her to wear it?” Lucas asks and Cole eyes me.

  I shrug. “I told Whit that it was just supposed to keep you mildly stimulated throughout the night so there’d be more urgency when you got home.”

  Tahlia’s wide gaze shifts to Whitney. “You wore it when you were having dinner at your grandparents?”

  “I was trying it out. I didn’t believe it would work and Cole was pushing me to wear it.” She glares at him from the corner of her eyes and he wraps his arm around her shoulders.

  “It worked.” His eyes light up and the entire table laughs.

  I love my friends and their boyfriends are great extensions to our group. Each one I’d have picked out for them myself.

  “I want one,” Lucas pipes up like I’m the ice cream truck and he’s six.

  “Invest, Mr. President.” I love referring to Lucas like that because he hates it. But c’mon. He’s now the president of what was Tahlia’s family’s sausage business. The jokes practically write themselves.

  I cock my eyebrow at him and he glances to Cole. “Did you?”

  Cole shrugs. “I believe in enhancing my sexual experiences.” Cole acts all proper, or Webberly, as I refer to it. Cole comes from San Francisco royalty—the Webber family.

  Lucas looks at Tahlia and then to me. “Sold. Come by the office tomorrow.”

  I smile. No way would I ever let my best friend’s boyfriends give me money. Money and friends do not mix.

  “Don’t forget the toy though.” His eyes light up and Tahl elbows him in the ribs.

  He slides closer to her, his lips moving to her ear and whispering. Whatever he’s saying, she’s smiling and her face is getting closer to the shade of her blouse again.

  “Care to share?” I ask.

  Tahlia shakes her head.

  “So, the movie.” Lucas changes the topic just like she did and I smile because he knows Tahlia so well. No way she wants to discuss her sexcapades in front of all of us.

  “I’m out,” I say, standing up and grabbing my portfolio from the table.

  “Why?” Whitney whines.

  All their eyes are fixed on me.

  “Because I’m sick of being the spare.” I eye Slade at the bar and pat Cole’s shoulder. “I like your new bartender.” I waggle my eyebrows and he laughs.

  “He’s under strict rules not to touch the customers,” Cole adds, his face too serious for his own good.

  Back in the day, Cole was a bigger player than Dan Bilzerian. Haven’t heard of him? Google and you’ll understand my point.

  “Oh, Cole. You should set a better example then.” I smile sweetly between him and Whitney.

  Whitney laughs because I’ve got him there. The two of them met while Cole was working the bar. He rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

  I laugh and walk away, sidling up to the bar as two stealthy blue eyes peer into mine.

  “What can I get you?” Slade asks, his voice deep, gruff and powerful.

  I lean forward so only he can hear me. His arms rest on top of the bar, the wood holding his weight so he can get closer. “You, naked in my bed. Oh, and of course your cock in my mouth.”

  2

  I’ll give Slade some credit. He waited until Cole left before he followed me to the bathroom. Even then, he stopped at second base, not allowing me to detour him further when I pulled him into the stall.

  Later, when the redhead said someone should leave early since it was so dead, he jumped at the chance, hopping over the bar, taking my hand in his and escorting me out of the Thirsty Monk. I like a man who takes action.

  On the taxi ride back to his place, his tongue was lodged in my throat, his hands up my shirt. Things were hot and I was more than eager to feel his rippled stomach under his white t-shirt.

  “You’re so damn hot,” he whispers now in the stairwell of his apartment building.

  I jump in his arms, his hands gripping my ass, mine fisting his long dark strands.

  Our lips lock and he weaves us from one side of the wall to the other on our way up the staircase. He’s strong and that turns me on more than the bulge in his pants. Stopping outside a door, I unwind my legs and slither down his body until my feet are planted on the ground. His lips stay on mine while he fumbles with the lock.

  “Finally,” I say, sliding past him into his apartment.

  I take no time to investigate the place. As long as the door is locked behind us, I’m good with whatever. The door slams shut, his fingers hook in my belt loop, pulling me toward him, and when my lips land on his, his fingers are unbuttoning my jeans. My own fingers slide down his white t-shirt, feeling the ripples of his abs while I match his objective—to become unclothed as fast as possible.

  He pushes my pants down along with my panties and I toe out of my flats and shimmy my jeans off the rest of the way. I’m hot and ready.

  His hands mold to my bare hips as he backs us until I fall into a soft couch. Standing above me, he slides his fingers down his zipper. I lick my dry lips, waiting for the glimpse of the cock I’ll feast on tonight.

  The bulge in his underwear isn’t as big as I felt grinding against me up the stairs, but maybe he’s not fully hard yet, which I’m more than happy to lend a helping hand with.

  Look, I should tell you now that I make no apologies for my open sexuality. I’m a single, adult female—why shouldn’t I enjoy getting it on as much and as often as I’m able? Because some man tells me it makes me
a slut? Or because some uptight woman who doesn’t know her clit from a light switch thinks it’s wrong to enjoy sex?

  Screw that. I don’t mess with taken guys and as long as everyone’s a willing participant then I’m down for a little fun. And hopefully an orgasm. Because who doesn’t love those?

  Anyway, where were we?

  I eye Slade with my sultry blues, widening my legs for him to stand between them. Hooking my fingers on the waistband of his boxers, I slide them down his legs as I promise him with my eyes how much fun we’re going to have tonight. The anticipation to feel what I’m working with is too strong and so I glance down, finding a thin penis that gives no tingle between my legs. His fingers weave through my short dark hair and he urges my head back up to his eyes.

  I’m sure this guy has been the running joke in his locker room and I’m not some bully or tease, so I plaster on a smile. It’s not how big it is, it’s how he uses it… right?

  “Go ahead,” he says, grinding his hips toward me so that his dick might reach my lips—if it had another three inches.

  I size him up again, trying to figure out how a guy over six feet, with huge muscles and a ripped stomach, could have such a disappointing package. He’s fully hard now, the tiny mushroom facing upward.

  My hands are shaking slightly as I wrap them around him, my fingers overlapping, and I pump.