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Billionaire Romance Box Set: The Billionaire's Legacy: An Alpha Billionaire Romance Box Set Page 2
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Page 2
Cassie
“We should go get some lunch,” Emma said. “I’m flat out starving.”
I hung up the room phone and smiled. “Guess who just landed an interview with the owner of the resort?”
“Seriously?” Emma gasped.
“Crazy, right? He happens to be here this week. Originally, his secretary or whoever said he was too busy, but she just called back and said that he’d agreed to do a twenty minute interview with me tomorrow morning before he leaves. I can’t believe it!”
“Your boss is gonna shit himself,” Emma said, shaking her head.
“Right?” I stood up. “Speaking of phone calls, have you heard from the good doctor yet this morning?” I could tell from Emma’s immediate blush that she had.
“Maybe,” she said. “It’s possible he texted me before they left for the dive this morning.”
“Get him, girl,” I said.
“What about you and Marty?” she asked.
I shrugged. By the light of day, I knew that Marty wouldn’t be more than a casual vacation encounter, if that. He lived in California, and I was in no mood to enter another doomed-to-fail long distance relationship.
“I’m not really here to hook up, I guess. I thought maybe, but… it just doesn’t seem right with him.”
“It’s good practice for your job, I guess,” Emma shrugged. Then, she grinned. “And it means more men for me! Just as long as you’re still willing to come out with us tonight?”
“Of course!” I said. “I had a blast last night; I wouldn’t miss it.”
We finished getting ready and then hit the beach for day two of our vacation. I’d brought my iPad with me to read, but every time I tried to focus on my novel, all I could think about was my upcoming interview with the owner of Legacy. I knew very little about him, since I hadn’t done research on him prior to our arrival here. I knew plenty about Legacy; everyone did. It was an international chain of luxury hotels and resorts, and they existed in every major country in the world. Every year it was near the top of the Fortune 500 list. Though the owner was American, one of the things that distinguished the Legacy chain from others of its type was that the hotels worked hard to sustain the local economy by hiring locals as employees and using local produce and materials to build and run the hotel. Because of this, Legacy had never run into issues with acceptance from the local communities.
I knew I wanted to ask some questions about this. I also wanted to ask questions about the owner’s personal life. I envisioned him to be in his sixties, probably attractive, distinguished. Definitely filthy rich. I thought about what kinds of questions I could ask… and I kept coming up blank. I knew I’d need to come up with a few before the next day.
Emma pulled me out of my concentration with a cocktail, and we clinked glasses.
“Your first interview question needs to be to get their pina colada recipe, I swear to God,” Emma said dreamily as she sipped her drink.
“I think it’s the local fruit. It’s so damn fresh and good,” I said, trying to sip my drink slowly enough so I didn’t end up with an ice cream headache. “What time is it?”
It was getting closer to late-afternoon, and we decided to go back to the room and get ready for dinner. I opted for another sundress, but this time I remembered a wrap to keep myself warm. I dried my hair and tonight decided to wear it up. I swept my hair up off my neck and twisted it, then closed a hair clip over it. I thought wearing my hair up made me look older, more sophisticated, and it went well with the dress I was wearing that night, a strapless silk sundress that was primarily white, but also had some streaks of a salmon color running through it. Both colors accentuated my tan and my skin glowed. I smiled; there was something about a vacation that made me both look and feel sexier than I could ever feel in my day to day life.
We walked down to the restaurant for dinner and looked for Tom and Marty, but they weren’t there. We found two spots at the bar and had dinner. Tonight I opted for a burger and fries, again, something I would never have in my day to day life… vacation gave me permission for all sorts of fun.
Our server cleared our plates and we opted for another round of cocktails as our dessert. We’d just clinked glasses when I heard a voice in my ear. “Where’s your boyfriend?” I looked at Emma, whose eyes were wide, then I looked to the source of the voice. Directly next to me, his hot breath in my face, was an obviously drunk man. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Is your boyfriend here tonight?”
I shrugged him off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said firmly, “and don’t touch me.”
“Ohhhh,” the man exaggerated putting his hands back. “Tough crowd. Playing hard to get, huh? I saw you with your boyfriend last night, you weren’t playing so hard to get then.” He leaned in closer to me. “Come on, give us a kiss…”
“Get the fuck out of here!” I yelled, standing up and moving beside Emma.
“Is there a problem, ladies?” The bartender, Sammy, came over right away when he heard me yell.
“This guy is being a complete creep,” Emma said, pointing at the drunk man. “Plus, he’s loaded.”
“Alright, that’s enough,” Sammy said. “How about if you find yourself somewhere else to be tonight, pal.” He came around to our side of the bar and stood next to the man, flexing both his muscles and his height.
“Whatever,” the man slurred. “Bitches flaunt it then can’t handle it when a man gives them some attention.”
“Out!” Sammy roared. By the time we had the attention of the entire bar, and I felt myself blushing like crazy. The drunk man left the bar, swaying and tripping as he made his exit. “Ladies,” Sammy said, “you have my most sincere apologies for that spectacle. Are you both all right?”
“Of course,” I said. “We’re New Yorkers.” I winked at him as if that should answer the question, but Sammy wasn’t persuaded.
“Your bill is on the house tonight,” he said. “And your next round is obviously on us. We take the comfort and, of course, safety of our guests very seriously.” He walked away to get us another round of pina coladas and Emma turned to me.
“Well, that was pretty impressive,” she said. “Can you imagine that happening in Queens?”
“Ha!” I exclaimed. “Right?” The sounds in the bar returned to normal once everyone realized that the scene had finished. Sammy brought us our round of drinks and we thanked him, insisting that comping them wasn’t necessary.
“I wonder where Tom is,” Emma said, frustration in her voice. She had been checking her phone, but she hadn’t heard from him yet.
“I’m sure they just got delayed on the dive. They’ll be back sometime tonight,” I said.
We hung out at the bar far later than we should have, and I was feeling quite buzzed by the time we were ready to leave. We walked to the door of the bar and just missed walking smack dab into Tom.
“I’m so glad we didn’t miss you!” he said to Emma. “The bus broke down on the way back from the dive. I didn’t think we had a chance in hell of making it, but we did. Marty is in the room, but I wanted to come straight here.”
“Hey Tom,” I said easily, a slight slur in my voice.
“Hey Cassie,” he responded, not taking his eyes from Emma’s.
“I’m going to head to the beach for a bit,” I said. “Emma, I assume you’ll be here?”
“We’ll be here,” Tom said. I grinned and walked out of the restaurant. The wind had picked up as the tide had come in, and I pulled my wrap around my shoulders. I took deep breaths of the amazing salt air, and thought once more how lucky I was to be on this beautiful island.
“Hey there, sexy,” a gritty, dark voice said. I looked around, but I couldn’t see anyone.
“Who’s there?” I asked. Anxiety spiked through me. I realized I’d walked far enough down the beach to be alone. Well, almost alone.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” the man’s voice said. He stepped out of the shadows, and I saw it was the drunk man f
rom earlier.
“I told you, I’m not interested,” I said. “And I’m sure you got the message when Sammy told you as well.”
“Yeah,” he said. “You’re not so tough without your bartender muscle around, are you?” He stumbled toward me and pressed his lips against mine.
Suddenly, I felt his entire body lift away from my own and he grunted. “What the—”
“The lady said no.” I looked behind the drunk and saw… well… in the moonlight and my pina colada haze, he looked a bit like Superman. At least six foot three, dark hair, olive skin, and blue eyes that stood out intensely from the rest of his dark features. “And, from what I’ve heard, it’s not the first time tonight. Go down to the dock. You’ll find a water taxi there to take you back to San Pedro, where you will stay. If you show up here again, you’ll be arrested. Do you understand?”
I looked at Superman holding Drunk by his collar, the size difference between them comical enough that, had the situation not been so serious, I would have burst out laughing. The drunk man got the message this time and stumbled down the beach to the awaiting water taxi.
“Are you okay?” the man came in closely to me, examining me with his eyes.
“I’m fine,” I said shakily. “I just wasn’t expecting that.”
“No reason you should have been; this island is incredibly safe. That guy isn’t a local. I think he must be staying at a hotel on the main island and thought he’d crash our party over here.”
We began to walk back to the hotel. I introduced myself, and he told me his name was Brad.
“Are you a guest?” I asked.
“Something like that,” he said. “Can I buy you a drink for your trouble?”
I began to decline, then I looked more closely at Brad in the moonlight. There wasn’t a chance in the world he was available; guys as good looking as him never were.
“You’re not here with your wife, are you?” I asked.
Brad burst out laughing, and I was treated to his smile, a wide, easy grin that showed off his perfectly straight, white teeth. “Hardly,” he said. “Unless you count being married to my job, I don’t have a wife.”
“Then I’ll have a drink with you,” I said.
One drink turned into several, and we closed down the bar. Sammy left us the rest of the pina coladas in the blender, but, once those were gone, we were on our own.
“If you want some more, I have beer in my room,” Brad said. “We could go up there.”
I hesitated. That was a pick up line if ever there was one. We had been laughing and our conversation had flowed from the moment we’d set foot in the restaurant. I tried to imagine myself dating him, then my logical mind intervened. You’re on vacation in Belize. You’ll never see him again. Why don’t you loosen up and enjoy yourself for once?
“That could be fun,” I said finally. He smiled, and I couldn’t help but smile back.
“Great,” he said. He held his hand out to me and I hopped off the bar stool. My hand was small in his, and I could feel the strength of his arm in his grip. He was built solid from head to toe, and his muscles bulged faintly through the loose fabric of his white shirt.
We got to his room and, as promised, he had cold beer in his mini fridge.
“Your suite is huge!” I exclaimed. “It’s, like, twice the size of mine.”
“I do a lot of work when I travel,” Brad explained. “So, it’s important to me that wherever I stay is big enough for me to be able to sometimes not leave the suite for a day or so at a time.”
“What do you do again?” I asked. I thought he’d probably told me, but my memories were fuzzy.
“I’m a business man,” he said. “Do you want to sit outside on the deck?”
I meant to ask him what type of business he was in, but, when we got out to the deck, my thoughts faded. He leaned in and kissed me. My body responded as if to say finally! and I kissed him back. His lips were full, salty, and I felt myself pressing toward him, though I had told myself I would try to restrain my attraction. My nipples were hard, pressing against the silk of my dress, and I knew that Brad could feel them. He brought his hands to my neck and held my jaw in his warm palms as he kissed me deeply. I put my hands on his broad chest and felt an immediate spike in my arousal.
He reached behind my head and pulled the clip out of my hair; I felt my hair fall over my shoulders wildly, and he groaned.
“You’re so beautiful, Cassie.” He pulled me to him and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. I pressed my body to his, feeling his erection, impressive under his linen pants. I dropped my hand down to his cock and began to stroke it softly through the fabric. He responded by picking me up; I wrapped my legs around his waist and he carried me out of the moonlight and into his bedroom.
He laid me down on the bed and kneeled over me, unbuttoning his shirt and gazing down at me. I smiled up at him, enjoying the view. His shirt off, he rolled me onto my back and unzipped my dress, exposing my back. He began to rub my back and kiss the line of my spine; I felt myself growing wetter and wetter, and I struggled out of my dress, then turned back over. I spread my legs and he moved between them. I held his cock in my hand and pressed it to my belly, stroking him between my hand and my stomach with one hand while I gently held his balls with my other. He strained and moaned, a look of pure pleasure on his face. His cock was gorgeous; the perfect size and shape, his head glistening with pre-cum. I wet my hand and began to stroke him faster, his cock responding by hardening even more, the skin straining and stretching until neither of us could stand any more, and, after slipping on a condom, he entered me.
“Oh my God,” I groaned, feeling the magnitude of him filling me, stretching me open, and I spread my legs wider. I reached for my feet and gripped them; he pressed his hands to my ass and pulled me to an angle that my body had never experienced before. From that angle, he gave my clit more attention than I’d ever believed possible, and, at the same time, fucked me deeply. He was, quite simply, the most impressive lover I’d ever had, and my orgasm, a slow build into an explosion of heat and cum, reflected nothing less.
When he came, his body grew rigid and he growled, pounding into me in a motion that very nearly pulled me into a second orgasm; had I been sober, it most certainly would have, and possible a third. I laid back, sweating and breathless, as he rolled off of me.
“My God,” he said. “You’re…” He began to laugh. “You’re fucking amazing.”
Brad
When I woke up the next morning, just a few hours after Cassie and I had finished certainly the best fucking I’d experienced in my lifetime, I looked at her sleeping peacefully for a few moments before I reluctantly got out of bed. I’d been hoping for a little morning delight, but the clock said I was already late to stat my day.
I showered and dressed, then I left a note on my pillow letting Cassie know that she should enjoy the suite for as long as she wanted, and I would connect with her later in the day for lunch or dinner if she didn’t have plans. I included my number.
Normally I would have done my work for the day in my suite, but, with Cassie there, I went instead to my office in the back of the lobby. I looked at my schedule for the day and sighed. I saw my four o’clock appointment with the journalist and I groaned out loud. I’d forgotten all about that, and I had absolutely no desire, especially today, to have to answer questions or, worse, dodge them. I thought for a moment about Cassie, still sleeping soundly in my bed, and I had the urge to tell my secretary to reschedule everything so I could go back to the room. But, that wouldn’t work, especially with what I had to do that day. I had to create a basement on a damn island.
I called my builder, the one who knew everything and whom I trusted implicitly. He laughed. “You can’t dig any deeper than you already have,” he said. “This island is solid rock. Great for a hotel, but there’s no way you can hammer through it without destroying some of the structural integrity of the building that’s already there.
“Okay, then t
ell me what I can do. I need a basement. What are our options?”
“Is it storage or active work?” he asked, mirroring the exact same question I had asked Manuel Brown.
“Storage,” I said. “From Columbia.”
“Ah, okay. Well, we could do a vault. We could build it into your office. It would take up that entire room, but we can find you another office much more easily than we can build a basement.”
“We’ll tell the employees that it’s for money and credit card receipts,” I said.
“Yes,” he said. “That will work. I can build the face of it to reflect what most of them would consider a logical vault.”
I sighed, looking around my office that would soon be a secretive storage facility. “Let’s do it. Can you start today?”
“Yes, sir, no problem,” my builder said.
“That’s why I keep you around,” I said, feeling, finally, like this whole arrangement might be possible. I thought of Legacy and everything it stood for. There was nothing I wouldn’t do to protect the things I held so dearly, things that couldn’t be contained in a vault.
I worked throughout the afternoon to pack up and clear out my office. For the time being, I knew I could work easily out of my suite. The bulk of my work was all online anyway; it had to be in order for me to travel.
“Mr. White?” my intercom crackled. I jumped at the startling interruption, then I smiled ruefully. I was definitely jumpier than usual, thanks to Manuel Brown’s orders.
“Yes, Anna, what is it?”
“The journalist that you said could interview you this afternoon has arrived. I reminded her that she has a maximum of twenty minutes with you. Are you available, or should I have her reschedule?”
I sighed. I’d forgotten all about that appointment after I’d looked at my schedule that morning, and a fresh wave of dread rolled through me. I didn’t have time for it, but, the one thing I’d learned about reporters in my time as the owner of Legacy was that the longer you put them off, the hungrier they got. When they got starving, they started foraging for their own answers… and I couldn’t afford to have anyone sniffing around trying to dig up information I wasn’t ready to give.