The Billionaire’s Secret Love (A 'Scandals of the Bad Boy Billionaires' Romance) by Alexa Wilder, Ivy Layne Page A

his finger. I was so tight, he only needed one. It didn't take long before I was coming, sobbing out his name against his skin.
    The orgasm pulsed through me, my whole body squeezed tight, riding the wave of pleasure before it let go and I collapsed, breathing hard. A tear trickled from the corner of my eye, hot and wet on my cheek before it fell to Tate’s neck.
    I should have been relaxed. I'd never come before like that. Ever. I should've been a boneless mass of satisfaction. For a second or two, I was. Then I realized what had happened, what I’d done. Tate was still hard between my legs, and every conscious thought in my brain fizzed out, replaced by panic.
    What was I supposed to do now? Stupid question. I could think of any number of things I should do, but my muscles wouldn't work. Paralyzed with indecision, I couldn't look at him. This had gone way too far, too fast, and I was lost.
    Tate started to sit up, and the change in position got me moving. I eased off his lap, scrambling to my feet, frantically tugging my underwear back into place, and straightening my skirt, unable to meet Tate's eyes. Heat bloomed in my cheeks, and I knew I was blushing a bright red. Letting my hair fall over my face, I turned around, looking for my shoes. I had to go. I knew it was lame and stupid, and I was proving that I wasn't enough for him by running away, but I just couldn't do this. It was too much. Too much sensation. Too much that was new.
    I could feel my thoughts getting away from me, tumbling over themselves, screaming at me to run, to go, to get somewhere safe. I knew in my head that everything was okay. I was just freaking out. But an iron band of panic closed around my lungs until I couldn't breathe. My heart thundered in my ears. Tate was talking to me, and I could barely make out the words.
    I grabbed my purse and keys from his desk and fled, tears streaming down my cheeks, the echo of his voice chasing me to the elevator, the sinking feeling of failure heavy in my heart.

Chapter Eight
Emily
    I don't remember getting home. Tate's office wasn't that far from my apartment, and I was practically running, so it couldn't have taken too long. When I got there, I locked the door behind me, dropped my purse and keys in the kitchen, and headed straight for my bed, curling up under the covers. I held my pillow tight to my chest, trying to stifle my sobs.
    I hated this. I wanted to be anyone else. No, not anyone, just someone normal. Someone who could make out with a guy she liked and not completely freak out. Someone who could have a hook up and not make a total idiot of herself the way I had. I knew what had happened. While it hadn't been a full-blown panic attack, it was close enough, and I'd been there too many times not to understand how they worked. I'd been too wound up, already anxious, though a lot of that had been excitement and not fear. Still, I’d been on edge, and the sudden vulnerability of Tate's hands on me, of him making me come, was too much.
    I understood how it had happened, but I shouldn't have run away. At that thought, I sobbed harder. I was a grown woman, not a teenager. I couldn't believe I'd run like a coward. There was no way Tate would want anything to do with me now, not when I'd proven how out of my league he really was. My phone beeped with a text, and I realized I still clutched it in my fingers.
    You okay?
    Tate. I was surprised he wanted anything to do with me. Shame and regret pulled me down, drowning the remains of my panic attack in a heavy blanket of sadness. I couldn't hide from him anymore. I'd run away after he'd taken the time to give me the most romantic date I'd ever imagined, and now he was checking on me to make sure I was all right. I owed him an explanation. At the thought of telling him why I'd run away, fresh tears streamed down my cheeks. It was enough knowing how badly equipped I was to handle normal life, but explaining my past, the anxiety attacks and agoraphobia to someone