The Billionaire's Bride (Complete Collection) (8 page)

A
nother text from Lucas
.

Each one brought a stronger reaction. I should’ve been smart enough to dismiss him. Except every text he sent had my adrenaline racing, my heart pounding.

I waited in the parking lot for a date with another man. Jordan. My ex. The spark I shared with Lucas wasn’t present with Jordan, but he still deserved my full attention. He was the easy choice and Jordan seemed interested now. I mean, he got his lazy ass off the couch and sent me a text. For Jordan, that was a miracle. This date would be a chance for him to prove himself. Did he grow up? My bullshit meter sounded when I thought that, but crazier things happened...like a billionaire stalking me through text...

Lucas: Good afternoon. Have I mentioned how much I adore your ass?

Tia: Multiple times.

Lucas: Oh, I haven’t said it today? I adore your ass. I want to cover it with chocolate and strawberries and lick you from your pussy all the way to your asshole. Ever have that done to you?

Tia: That’s not a question I’m going to answer.

Lucas: Didn’t think so. The offer is on the table. I’m buying the strawberries right now.

I slid my phone back into my pocket.
Be a good boy and go away for now, Lucas.
The sensation of his tongue gliding across my pussy, all the way to my ass got my thighs rustling. No one had done that to me before. No one had come close. Lucas taking that forbidden area had my body thrumming with anticipation...and humiliation.

Best if I cooled off. I didn’t want Jordan to get the wrong idea—that I was hot for him already and would jump into bed. Because that wasn’t happening. I’d only jumped into one bed, and it had been Lucas’s. I’d like to think he earned it—which didn’t mean I would ever do it again. That was a hard lesson I was glad I learned.

My AC pumped but barely made a dent in my mom’s stuffy van. Mom let me borrow it to meet up with Jordan during my break, but it was nearly mine anyway with all the hospital bills I paid over the years. I stepped out to meet him at Tina's Cafe, not far from my work at a strip mall off the highway.

As soon as I stepped out in my long-tie twist top that draped over my waist, I wished I’d chosen something different. The afternoon sun blazed. It had been a sweltering week with no end in sight. The top completed the outfit, so it would stay on. My plunging neckline might help Jordan’s motivation problem as well.

I peered into the front windows. Tina’s bustled inside with the energy of every local worker getting lunch. Joining them, I waited awkwardly near the entrance as I searched the tables for my date.

No,
not happening.
Make that another let down. Why did I go through all the trouble to wear heels?
For Jordan, too.

And why did I want to grab my phone and text Lucas? I took a window seat after a worker brushed it off.

Jordan had ten minutes.

Then I would buy a panini and eat it. If he arrived after ten minutes, I would tell him, "Too late." I would direct his ass to go sit at another table while I gleefully munched away. He could watch. I would make eating that panini the most erotic thing he’d ever seen in his life. He’d be sorry he woke and toked.

Ten minutes later with no sign of him, I knew Jordan hadn’t changed his ways.

I checked my phone. It showed nothing new, only the old text from Lucas about eating strawberries off my ass. It helped soften the sting, but I would never tell Lucas that if I ever saw him again. Or any other man for that matter. It looked like I’d been right to keep to my grind.

I sighed. That grind would be going for a long time yet. The grind never stopped.

Twelve minutes after, I still didn’t spot Jordan’s car. The line hadn’t died down so I would need to eat lunch in a hurry, but I couldn't grab it from Tina’s or I would be really late. I gave my table away.

Jordan met me at the curb. He didn’t bother to pick up his pace when he saw me, either. He wore a black t-shirt with Bob Marley on it, some wrinkled shorts, and sandals. What a disappointment...why not go for the whole look and arrive with dorito crumbs still on your shirt? I’d actually smoked a joint or two in my life, but Jordan had the ability to turn me off completely. I smelled the skunky smoke on him as he drifted closer.

He lowered his head and sheepishly smiled, his eyes darting to my cleavage. Noticing my dissatisfaction, his smile sprang back and he shuffled out of my way.

“Wait, I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Me too,” I said. I flung my shoulder to the side to charge ahead.

“Sorry. I’m really sorry. I got stuck in traffic. I’m only ten minutes late. Can we sit down?”

“Twelve minutes,” I said. I checked my phone. “Thirteen. If it wasn’t like you to be late, I wouldn’t care, but since this is your M.O.” I started to trail off.

He played with his black twists. “Yeah, yeah, I know. That’s why I’m really freaking out here. Please, can we sit down and talk?”

I looked back to see a dire expression like he would crumble to the sidewalk if I left. At least he seemed to care. That was something new.

“All right. We can talk. I don’t have long until I start my next shift, so I won’t eat, but we’ll talk.”

His eyes lit up. I walked right in. We didn’t have long.

Our date went well. Okay, not well. I was just happy the date didn't end in disaster. That surprised me since I expected the worst. It was quick, but I liked what I heard even if the physical attraction wasn’t there. Not everyone could be as physically attractive as Lucas, but that wasn’t everything. Jordan had a job now, at a local gas station, but it was something. He’d made an effort.

I would give him another chance.

We parted ways with a tentative date for another meet up, this one where we would spend more time together.

With a strut back in my step, I held my head high.

I thought that was my first move to distance myself from Lucas.

Later, I would find out he had been stalking me the entire time.

“She’s with a guy. In a cafe. And they left together?”

This news didn’t make me happy.

Already in a brooding mood, this pushed me over into darker territory. Tia attempted to break away.

The private investigator continued chattering on the other end of the line, but he sounded distant. This guy Tia met up with was an old boyfriend of hers. Tia intended to go back to him? Him, that fucking loser, him...his name? Jordan or something? Who cared? A man not right for her….he meant nothing...the colors around my yacht looked muted. It all began to slip away.

She couldn’t deny me.

“Fuck,” I growled.

“You...uh…you all right, sir?”

He went on about how he didn’t see them holding hands, no kissing, and all that, but it didn’t matter. Tia took steps to distance herself from me. Why? Had I been wrong all along? No, I couldn’t go down that route...that was the path to crazy. I’d felt her come, felt her soul practically entwine with mine and all of her girly desires melt at my touch. A girl doesn’t come like that and simply walk away like it never happened.

“I’m fine. Thank you and good work. Goodbye.”

I sat up from my lawn chair surrounded by women physically beautiful in their own right. Yet, there was no attachment. Plenty of men would kill for my situation and here I was, brooding and feeling sorry for myself while I pined over a girl who wouldn’t have me.

Pathetic.

My self-destructive streak reared its ugly head. I had a need, like a phantom limb twitching, to take all of my furniture and toss it overboard. I remained steaming in place, wondering what exactly kept me grounded. Crew members watched me closely. They refilled drinks while a hang glider soared above. Cara had been the only one to take me up on the offer.

She had a bird's-eye view of the others sunbathing and drinking wine coolers. I’d never seen so many wine coolers in my life. Wine coolers would haunt my dreams.

My fist claimed a chunk of hair. I squeezed to bring life back into me. None of the girls looked my way. They were all chatting or in their phones or listening to music. Why had my life turned into a never ending girl’s night out?

I kept looking them over. Besides the workers, I was the only one standing. They kept glancing my way, but I didn't move, only standing there like I’d boarded the wrong ship. Out of all these girls, who would I choose? Eventually, I would need a bride. I couldn’t let the company slip into one of my cousin’s hands. I couldn’t lose my current lead position, either. My position kept me sane in this insane world of mine.

Nervousness pooled in my gut, forcing my hand to my cellphone. Text Tia?
I know you went on a date. With your ex. He’s wrong for you. He’s nothing.

No, even more pathetic. Don’t grovel for her. Never, ever, grovel. I would never beg. The fact that I’d come so close enraged me.

What had I become?

I looked over the women again. Few remained. As more were sent packing, I would eventually be left with a difficult decision. I would need to pick between two….

Tia would’ve been the easy choice.

Since she threw in the towel, it would probably come down to Anna, Cara, and Jayne—none of which I could see myself living the rest of my life with. Maybe that was best. A marriage of convenience. We wouldn’t even need to see each other. In that case, we wouldn’t be at each other’s throats.

Anna flipped over on her chair. The Southern girl had a killer figure with her tiny bikini, oiled skin, and curves in all the right places—but simply not enough for me. Anna had a spunky personality, but I never had a deep conversation with her, if she was even capable of one. I highly suspected that her drawl was a put on. Maybe she was a failed actress who thought this was her shot at climbing the ladder.

Cara was more of a tom girl. I got along with her the most, but she was more of a friend than a potential mate, which spelled doom for us. She was also the choice that my father would like the least, not counting Tia.

The third choice, Jayne Clayton, awoke from her sunbathing and strutted over to me, the towel wrapped around her flared hips rocking with each step. She directed my attention from her sparkling blue eyes to the halo like effect of her platinum blond hair. She looked like Grace Kelly standing before me.

She was my father’s pick. Jayne was the smartest choice. Our marriage would unite two of the biggest oil companies in the world. She pretty much ran her company with an iron fist ever since her father went senile.

“I noticed you glaring. Don’t think I didn’t notice you looking,” she said and shifted a lithe hand to a supple hip. “You’re thinking...oh God, I have to choose one of these girls.”

I quirked my brows at her as if asking, “Uh huh, so what’s it to you?”

Like an evil villain in every movie, she would eventually tell me what she planned on doing with me.

“You came to the conclusion that I made the most sense.”

She took a step closer. Her cold fingers brushed my elbow.

“Why don’t you stop this charade and announce it? I’m going to be your final decision anyway, because you’re a smart man. You understand that there’s more at stake here than what you personally want. Infatuation doesn’t last long. People get tired of one another. Even love doesn’t last forever. The best marriages are the ones based on function. Our function? To unite and form one of the wealthiest companies in the world.”

I stared blankly at her.

After a confident smirk, she unlatched her bony fingers.

“Do you need to be enticed, Lucas? Please tell me you don’t.” She cocked her head. Jayne couldn’t understand me.

How depressing that this could be my future wife. Perhaps it wasn’t the furniture that I should’ve thrown overboard, but myself instead.

“Thank you, Jayne.” I said, unflinching.

Jayne seemed relieved I didn’t ask for sex. On our wedding day she would promise me something. What a joy—consummation with that frigid woman. Perhaps we could do a PowerPoint presentation on what it would be like?

She was right about one thing—I was a reasonable man. No one from our world denied money, and the marriage between us would mean lots and lots of money. If I denied it, she would run to my father, and then he would come back and take everything away.

It might be sad, but I believed in that moment that I belonged with Jayne. It helped dig me deeper into that spiraling darkness. Devoured by it, I walked away from her a different man, a shadow of the one weeks ago. I marched to the lounging girls.

I picked Anna first. Then I spotted Nicole, a brunette not quite as rich or refined as Jayne, but just as skinny. Breasts bouncing in their tiny bikinis as they hopped up, they followed me to my bedroom on the bottom deck.

“This is interesting. We never get to see The Room,” Anna said, gawking at everything around her, none of it personal, all of it arranged by the crew.

“The Room?”

“We just call it The Room. It’s where no one gets to go. Until now,” Nicole said while gazing upon my suite.

Their chatter went on behind me but I was hardly listening as I poured shots of vodka for us all. Anna refused, but Nicole, pleased to be chosen for
something
downed it and wiped her lips with a twinkle in her eyes. I poured another. And another. And another. No matter how much I drank, my demons won.

I staggered to the edge of my bed and sat down. My hand slipped into my pocket and I brushed the edge of my phone. What would Tia be doing now? It seemed like the best time to text her.

Wasn’t it always the best time to text someone you really shouldn’t once you had a drink or two? Clearly alcohol and cellphones belonged to two different times that should never mix.

“Why’d you call us in here? The suspense is killing me,” Anna told me, bobbing on her toes, protruding her breasts. As much as she tried to play it in the beginning, she wasn’t wholesome.

“Kiss,” I said.

“What?” Anna and Nicole froze, jaws going slack. They tuned to one another, then back at me.

“Did you say kiss?”

Nicole let a moan slip. Confident, flinging her hair back, she strode toward the bed. She thought I meant me. No. That’s not what I meant at all.