Billionaire Love: First in a Series Anthology

By Ava Alexia, Lexi Larue and Mia Morgan

BILLIONAIRE LOVE

7 'first in a series' romance bundle Romance Boxed Set: Contemporary Romance, Romantic Suspense, New Adult Romance, and Romantic Comedy. 18+.

MOGUL

Billionaire tech mogul Nate meets his wonder woman, Diana Prince.  Diana’s life is in shambles after she’s fired for selling insider secrets to his company.  Diana falls for Nate but has no clue that he is the Mogul.

DESTINY

Do you find it?  Or does it find you?

Waitress Korinna Scharpova meets her match in enigmatic John MacBeth. The two connect instantly and their attraction heats faster than either can control.

DESIRE

Jules was Jaime’s first love.  Would she be able to take the challenge of a 'friends with benefits' relationship?  Here was the opportunity she longed for.  Was she courageous enough to take it?

HUNTER

Realtor Audra Weston turns down billionaire Hunter Wallace’s business.  The rejection piques Hunter’s curiosity and arouses his inner Dominant, making him determined to meet her. Lies and secrets stand in their way…

SAVED

Allison James came to Chicago to start a new life but her former life still haunts her.  She meets a handsome CEO Jackson Harter in a wild bathroom encounter.  Will Jackson be able to save Allie from her past?

STARSTRUCK

Rachel and her best friend Fiona are stuck in their small hometown until the hottest movie star in Hollywood comes to town and turns their world upside down.

PASSION

Alena Roberts is the woman who dances her way into billionaire Devon Forrester’s heart and mind.

BILLIONAIRE LOVE

These are 7 first in a series romance stories.  Readers should be 18 years and above due to adult content.

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Brazen Romance
• Release date: Aug 2, 2015
• ISBN: 9781516310395

Book preview

Mogul

A Billionaire Romance

The Mogul Series, Book One

A Contemporary New Adult Romance

Lexi Larue

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Enjoy the Mogul Series!

This book is Part One of The Mogul Series

(Contemporary New Adult Romance)

Mogul Book One

Mogul Book Two

Mogul Book Three

Mogul Book Four

Mogul Book Five

––––––––

Chapter 1 Diana

I almost teeter off the barstool trying to down my drink like they do in the movies and catch myself on the edge of the bar.

Are you okay?

I decide not to look at the guy leaning over my shoulder for fear of encouraging him.

Juuuust peachy, I assure him.

I try my best not to sound drunk but even I can detect a little bit of slur in my speech. It means I’m either talking too much or I’m not drunk enough.

You might want to think about slowing it down a little.

Irritated by his big-brotherly attitude when I’m clearly on a mission, I spin my barstool to ignore him but it makes a full revolution and a half, and now I feel like the room is spinning. I hook the heel of my shoe casually on the rung of the barstool to stop it.

Are you sure you’re okay? he chuckles, as I grip the edge of the bar to steady myself.

So now he’s laughing at me. I spin back around to face him, a little slower this time and take a big swig of my drink just for spite. Are you the fun police or something?

He looks me over nonchalantly and asks Bad day huh?

I’m sure this is his most consoling ‘I-want-to-get-in-your-pants’ voice but I’m not interested in swooning for anyone tonight. I had chosen the popular singles hangout not to meet a man but because I didn’t expect to be in any shape to drive at closing time and it happens to be within walking distance from my apartment.

What’s it to you? I retort. I’m waiting on the edge of my seat for the smooth pickup line he’s going to wield to make me fall into bed with him.

Well, for one, you’re drinking my drink, he laughs.

Shit, I didn’t see that coming. I look down at the glass in my hand and realize the umbrella and pineapple are missing. Oh.

I’m embarrassed but try to play it off as I wipe my lipstick from the rim and hand it back to him but he’s still standing there with an amused look on his face.

Was there something else? I ask stoically.

I think you dropped your earring in it, he says, holding the glass up to the light to examine it more closely, I wouldn’t want you to choke or anything.

I check my earlobes and discover that my right earring is in fact, missing, damn it. That’s one of my favorite earrings, do you mind? I ask, hoping he lets me have the glass back since I asked nicely.

Not to worry, he assures me as he fishes my earring from his drink with two fingers. I was a lifeguard for three summers in high school, I’ve got this.

As I watch him rescue my earring, dry it on a napkin and order two fresh drinks from the bartender, I suddenly realize how rude I’ve been...and how handsome he is. It’s on me, really. I’m so sorry. I don’t usually drink, I explain.

It’s okay, he says, handing the bartender a twenty. I came with a couple of colleagues and I expected to be bored out of my mind tonight. So far it has been worth every penny.

I look across the bar and spot them immediately. You mean the suits at the table by the dance floor? I ask, gesturing toward two stuffed shirts huddled in conversation as they ogle the women on the dance floor. The one in the brown suit is chubby with ruddy cheeks that make him look about sixteen, while the other looks like he missed his true calling as a mortician.

That’s them, he says with a sigh.

Geez and I thought I was miserable, I say before my brain can catch up to my tongue.

He chuckles, And just what would a beautiful woman like you have to be so miserable about?

Not wanting to tell my life story to a complete stranger, I decide to end this quickly and blurt out my answer before he gets too chummy. I got fired today. I take a big swig of my own drink this time.

That’s awful, he says sympathetically, I can’t imagine why any boss in his right mind would let you go, he adds as he looks me over.

I’m not quite sure if he’s trying to console me or hit on me at this point but my pent-up anger gets the better of me. "Huh! Tell that to Garrett ‘stink-breath’ Holliman."

As soon as it comes rolling off of my tongue, I make a mental note that alcohol makes it much harder to keep my private thoughts to myself. The truth is that I slept with Garrett Holliman six years ago and I’m still regretting it.

Is ‘stink-breath’ an official title or just a nickname? he laughs.

Oh the women in the office have several pet names for him. I’ve just had the misfortune of having him look over my shoulder at my computer screen for the past six years.

Sounds like you don’t care for him much, he says.

Handsome and perceptive...this guy might not be so bad after all. I wave my hand dismissively, He’s your typical ‘techno-geek-turned-multi-millionaire’ who now has an office full of ass-kissers to boss around instead of hiding out in a room in his mother’s basement playing video games, I scoff. I realize how childishly bitter and jaded I must sound but it just sort of came spilling out.

Speaking of names, I’m Nate. He flashes me a gorgeous smile and extends his hand to me but I hesitate, feeling apprehensive about revealing my name after my rant.

Diana Prince, I say reluctantly.

You mean as in Wonder Woman? he chuckles.

It’s a long story, I say, dismissively, hoping to dissuade any further discussion. Had I been in a better state of mind he would have at least scored points for being up on seventies television icons or maybe even female superheroes but the last thing I want right now is a conversation that has anything to do with my mother.

Instead of retreating however, he sidles up next to me. Ms. Prince, do you see my friends over there? He nods in the direction of his buddies.

It looks like the one in the brown suit is a real barrel of laughs. His friend is talking and laughing animatedly in an attempt to hit on a woman who is way out of his league.

Exactly, he agrees, taking the empty seat next to me at the bar. Your story sounds so much more intriguing than hanging out with those guys...I’m yours for the rest of the night.

I have to admit, he’s pretty smooth but I’ve met a hundred guys like him before...handsome, charismatic playboys with one decent suit who think they can seduce anything in a skirt with a set of broad shoulders, gorgeous smile and a few compliments. Judging from his pearly whites alone, he has probably been with more than his lifetime share of women already.

Thanks, I reply in the most politely discouraging voice I can muster, But I really just came to drown my sorrows. Besides, I have to be up early in the morning, I add as I motion the bartender for my tab.

Even though you don’t have to work in the morning? he asks with his eyebrows raised as if he had caught me in a lie.

Okay so maybe it was a lie, my appointment wasn’t until 1 p.m. but I still sort of resent the way he doubts that I might have a reason to be up early and I’m compelled to dispel his suspicions with an explanation. If it’s any of your business, I have an interview tomorrow morning.

If he felt the slightest sting of rejection, he doesn’t show it. Ah, so you do have a reason to celebrate, he concluded with a big smile, Goodbye Mr. Stink-breath and hello to a new and more exciting position, he says, clinking his glass to mine.

God he smells good but somehow I don’t think that the ‘new and exciting position’ he’s referring to has anything to do with my job interview. Look, I really appreciate the drink but you’re looking for a good time and I’m afraid I wouldn’t be very good company. I belt down the rest of my drink like a pro and stand to leave but my left heel is still caught on the rung of the barstool and as I try to step out of it, my entire body pitches forward, sending my face and my drink directly into his lap.

Oh God, I’m sorry! I’m mortified as I remove my hand from his wet crotch. I fumble for an ounce of dignity and the edge of the bar as he helps me back into an upright position. My heel got stuck, I explain, swiping a strand of wet hair out of my face.

He blots his pants with a bar napkin as I stand there with one shoe on and one shoe off, drying my face and hair.

Here, let me get that for you.

He bends down and retrieves my shoe, still dangling from the rung of the barstool when the alcohol suddenly hits me like a ton of bricks and I grab the back of the chair to steady myself, clocking him right in the nose with my elbow as he tries to stand.

Oh no, I’m so sorry! I didn’t think it was possible to be more humiliated but that’s what I get for thinking.

He catches himself from falling but is stunned by the blow for a moment. Blood begins trickling from his right nostril as he blinks his eyes several times.

You’re bleeding! Oh God, I’m so sorry. I grope the bar for a napkin but I grab too many and several of them spill across the bar.

It’s okay, I’m fine, he reassures me. He’s holding the napkin under his nose with one hand and holding my shoe out in front of me with the other, like he’s trying to ward off evil spirits. Here’s your shoe, he offers as he returns to his seat to catch his breath.

I sit down, still feeling a little off-kilter from the alcohol and the accidental maiming. I’m really sorry, I just felt a little dizzy, I didn’t mean to-,

Really, it’s okay. I don’t think anything’s broken, he reassures me dismissively. Good luck on your interview tomorrow.

I’m not sure if it’s the guilt over elbowing him in the face, the alcohol, the disappointment of losing my job or the way he still bothered to wish me good luck that got to me, but I suddenly feel like crying.

I fumble through my purse for my credit card. I probably won’t get the job anyway, I offer as if it were some parting gift he might take pleasure in. I put my shoe on, sign my tab and put my card back in my wallet, Sorry again. I sling my handbag over my shoulder and stand, this time taking it a little slower.

Look, it really is okay, he says, putting his hand on my arm as I start to walk away. I’ve got an idea, I’m hungry and you can’t go to a job interview with a hangover. You’ll feel much better if you eat something, why don’t you let me buy you some breakfast? I know a great diner on the corner that makes a terrific omelet.

This guy is persistent. That’s really sweet, I spill my drink on you, elbow you in the face and you want to buy me breakfast, I say, chuckling at the irony. I appreciate the thought but-,

If it’s any consolation, I’d be happy to let you buy but I know you just lost your job, he teases, before I can protest.

I want to give him the brush off but he does have a point and I feel a little guilt stricken as I look at his pitifully adorable face with its red, swollen nose. Okay, lead the way.

We walk down the street and around the corner to Kearney’s Diner and seat ourselves in a booth near the back. The diner is brightly decorated with red upholstered seats, polished chrome fixtures, a long glossy black counter and orangey neon signs. The walls are covered with black and white renderings of vintage product advertisements and the waitress is dressed in black pants and a white polo shirt. She brings us the menu and takes our drink order.

This is kind of a modern twist on the traditional American diner. I look around admiring the décor.

Actually they just remodeled, it was getting kind of run down. My friends and I used to come here in high school.

You mean the guys at the bar?

No, they’re just work colleagues in town for a few days. I barely know them. The waitress returns with our drinks and he orders. I’ll have the sweet Italian sausage, mushroom and cheese omelet with hash browns, hold the peppers.

I haven’t really bothered to look at the menu but anything sounds good at this point. I’ll have the same, I add as I hand her the menu.

So tell me about your interview. Why don’t you think you’ll get the job?

It really is a long story. I hedge for the second time tonight. Forget I mentioned it.

––––––––

C’mon, it can’t be that bad, you’re probably just nervous; maybe it’ll help to talk about it.

He makes a valid point and it’s not as if I have anything to lose after the night I’ve had. My boss fired me this morning for breaching my non-disclosure agreement. They think I leaked a new software idea to our biggest competitor. We were scheduled to launch the product next week but our competition launched an almost identical product last Friday and the big bosses at my company have been on a rampage ever since. Garrett Holliman says I’m black-balled from the IT industry for good; they’re even talking about suing me. How much sense does it make to sue someone you just washed-up financially? I ask incredulously.

I feel my eyes well up with tears and I know I should stop there but I can’t help myself.

It would be one thing if I actually did what they’re accusing me of but I didn’t and now six years of ass-kissing have been washed right down the drain, not to mention four years of college. I haven’t even paid off my student loans yet and I’ll probably be lucky to get a job here by the time they’ve finished with me.

I actually wonder if the diner might be hiring and consider asking the waitress for an application but decide against it. I grab some napkins from the dispenser and dry my tears.

I’m sure it’ll all blow over soon, He put his hand on mine in a comforting gesture. You’re an intelligent, gorgeous woman and I’m sure you have lots to offer; you’ll find a new job in no time. Maybe this new job will be even better.

Now I’m sobbing. I made seventeen calls today trying to set up some interviews before stink-breath could spread the word and not one of them would give me the time of day. I only got the interview tomorrow because it’s with the competitor I was accused of leaking information to and my mother had to call in a favor to get that! My cousin Ian is sleeping with the Human Resources Manager. The fact that he works there is exactly the reason why I didn’t apply for a job with them right out of college in the first place, I sobbed. Even if by some miracle I do get the job, my life is ruined.

He offers me another napkin and I excuse myself to the ladies’ room.

I walk past the kitchen and down the narrow hallway, steadying myself with my hands on either wall until I’m inside. I slump onto the toilet, feeling sorry for myself and try to dry my tears with a wad of one-ply toilet paper.

I’ve been falsely accused, fired, shunned by the industry, shamed into accepting an interview set up by my mother to work with my creepy cousin, drunk, mortified and humiliated...and all in one day. To top it off, I maimed a complete stranger...a very handsome stranger, who still offered to buy me breakfast and I start blubbering at the table like some pathetic loser. I blow my nose and grab another handful of toilet paper. I had never felt so hopeless in all my life.

I wallow in self-pity for a few minutes and then scold myself for my negative thoughts. I attempt to stand but have to pull myself up using the metal bar attached to the side wall of the stall. I never realized how handy that bar was before but in my present condition, I’m grateful for the assistance.

I wash my hands and try to give myself a fake smile in the mirror but it looks completely out of place on my face at the moment. I know I need to shake it off but I just don’t know how. I stand there for a moment to compose myself when I remember spotting the exit sign over the metal door just outside the bathroom. I need some air.

In a fleeting moment, I slip out of the bathroom door and through the metal exit door, making sure not to let it slam shut behind me. I had walked out on a date or two in the past and deservedly so, but I have to admit feeling a twinge of loss as I cross the parking lot toward the sidewalk.

Who knew he would turn out to be a pretty sweet guy...maybe I’ll even track him down to apologize when I get my act together but for now, I just want to get home and into my own bed.

Chapter 2 Nate

Sitting in the booth at the diner, I try looking at my reflection in the back of a spoon. My nose feels stuffy and huge like a big snout. As I wait for this beautiful, walking disaster of a woman to return, I decide to slip into the men’s room to assess the damage in a real mirror.

I splash my face with water and try to dry it gently but the cheap paper towels are rough against my injured nose. Still, if you’re going to get elbowed by a drunken woman in a bar, it does help if she’s sexy in that decadent she doesn’t even know how sexy she is way. Her guarded, good-girl demeanor mixed with her clumsiness is intriguing to say the least...bonus points for being a techno-geek.

I walk back to the booth as the waitress delivers our food but she hasn’t returned. I know she’ll be back because her purse is still there. The food smells delicious and my stomach growls in anticipation. I check my watch; she’s been in there for almost ten minutes.

I decide to check on her in case she’s fallen or maybe even fallen asleep. I walk back toward the bathrooms and knock on the ladies’ room door. There’s no response. I imagine her falling and hitting her head or something and decide to step inside to check on her.

I look back down the hallway to make sure no one is watching and make my move but the place is empty. I step back into the hallway and notice the exit sign over the back entrance. I step outside but she’s not there either.

Well how do you like that, I mutter to myself, returning to the booth. I spot her purse still lying in the seat and move it over to my side. My first inclination, and probably the one she deserves after running out on me, is to leave it with the waitress and wash my hands of the situation.

I’m thirty-two and still a bachelor so I have my share of dating horror stories to tell. I Admit that I’ve been guilty of fabricating an emergency to end a date, I’ve slept with women I’ve never called back, I’ve pretended to have food poisoning to cancel a date and I even told a woman I was gay once to put an end to her incessant texting but I have never just disappeared on someone. I feel insulted and a little miffed.

I eat half of my barely warm omelet and as my hunger subsides, I start feeling a little more compassionate. I start to think about what a tough day she had, how embarrassed she was for spilling her drink and elbowing me in the face, followed by how she had been working for my biggest competitor for the past six years and how those shapely legs would feel wrapped around my body. As the facts unfold, I suddenly feel like I’ve found religion. I text my driver to bring the car around, pay the check and step outside.

Chapter 3 Diana

As I walked the six blocks toward my apartment lost in thought, I decided that I’m actually looking forward to my job interview. I read somewhere once that people who stay with a job for more than five years are likely getting stale in their chosen profession and no longer challenging themselves. I also decide what to wear to the interview and rehearse a few things to say if they happen to ask about my departure from Techworks.

I realize I probably look like a crazy person talking to myself as the cars pass by but it’s lifting my spirits and that’s all that matters. By the time I reach my block, I even feel a little optimistic and prepared to reinvent myself. As I approach my building, I see the dark outline of a male figure standing on my porch. I scold myself for forgetting to replace the blown light bulb and duck down behind a car parked on the street. Damn it, I mutter under my breath.

Judging by the size and shape of the outline, combined with my recently unannounced disappearance from the diner, I realize it’s probably Nate from the bar but I can’t help feeling a little panicked to see him waiting for me on my front porch.

I take off my heels just in case I need to make a run for it and kneel down on the ground to peer around the car’s bumper for a better look. I wait anxiously, hoping he’ll just leave but tiny pebbles on the pavement begin digging painfully into my kneecaps. I balance myself on my palms, raising my right leg gracefully, like a dog taking a pee and brush the pebbles away but as I hike my left leg to repeat the move, I accidentally knee the parked car, sending a shooting pain into my kneecap as the burglar alarm begins to wail. I gasp in pain and lose my balance as the blaring sound startles me.

I try to breathe through the pain as I get into a squatted position and lean over for another peek at the front porch just as he turns in my direction.

I can’t make out his features in the dark but unless Robert Downey, Jr. has finally decided to pay me a visit at 1:45 a.m., it’s definitely Nate. I give a self-conscious little wave from my crouched position, collect my shoes and step out from behind the car. I clear my throat self-consciously as I straighten my blouse and walk casually up to my building in my bare feet.

I dropped my shoes, I explain nervously over the blaring and chirping of the car alarm. I suppose if he’s going to murder me, there really is no escape now. Let’s get it over with.

I’m sorry about breakfast, I just, well I needed some air, I stammer, trying to think of a good excuse for running out on him but I’ve always been a terrible liar.

I’m not sure what the protocol is for being ditched, this is my first time.

He’s over six feet tall with broad shoulders and a lean, muscular frame. His dark brown hair is cropped short on the sides with longer layers on top that are tousled almost perfectly to draw the observer’s attention to his jade green eyes, angular jaw and near perfect smile.

To say he looks good in a suit is probably an understatement because he has a sort of red-carpet, tuxedo refinement to him in spite of the fact that he has just followed me home and probably intends to kill me. I remember reading how handsome and charming Ted Bundy was.

I say a little prayer that he’s not a serial killer and my heart races as I attempt to brace myself for what he might do next. Look, I’m really sorry, I reiterate, I just needed to get some air and the next thing I knew I was walking home.

There’s just one problem with that, he smiles. I can’t tell if it’s genuine or if it’s some sort of maniacal grin.

You forgot your purse, he says holding my handbag in the air by the strap.

I gasp at the realization of my missing purse and then sigh in both relief and embarrassment.

They’ve already called last call at the bar so I figured you went home. I found your address on your driver’s license; I thought you might need your keys to get in.

I thought you followed me home, I admit, feeling like a heel. I’m not usually so careless...or clumsy.

Or suspicious? he chuckles. Look, you’ve had a rough day. It happens.

I take the steps to join him on the landing in front of my door as he hands me my purse. I really do appreciate you going to the trouble to bring it to me at this hour. Come on in, I’ll fix you a cup of coffee.

Inside my apartment, I show him to the living room and finally begin to feel a little more like myself. Make yourself comfortable, I’m going to change and then I’ll make us some coffee unless you’d rather have a glass of wine, I offer as I step into the bathroom.

Coffee’s fine. Nice album collection.

Thanks, it belonged to my father.

Oh I’m sorry, how long ago did he die?

He’s not dead; he just didn’t want to store them in the garage after they turned his old studio into a sun room.

What about your mom?

She would’ve gladly gotten rid of them fifteen years ago, I couldn’t resist teasing.

I put on a night shirt that falls just above my pebble-dimpled knees and cinch my robe over it before starting the coffeepot. When I step into the living room, Etta James starts to sing Sunday kind of love as he grabs me by the hand and pulls me against him.

I decide to oblige him in a dance, intending to bow out gracefully after a few moments but as he holds me in his arms with the music playing in the background, I can feel the stress of the day melting away like it was in the distant past. The smell of coffee fills the air as the song ends and the next thing I know, I’m pressed against the wall of my living room, kissing him passionately.

I can smell the trace of expensive cologne on his collar and feel the wet anticipation building between my legs as he moves his mouth from my lips to my neck. My heart races as he teases me with his tongue from my earlobe to the curve of my shoulder. His warm breath and soft moans against my skin send chills down my spine. He has managed to find my most intensely arousing erogenous zone in less than five minutes and I feel pretty certain at this point that he knows where the rest of them are too.

I push his suit jacket down over his shoulders as he buries his face just above my collar bone. I desperately want to feel him against me and let go of my tension and worry as I feel him overcome me with his body the way he already has with his sexy, resilient charm. I unbutton his shirt as he removes his tie, his breathless kisses stopping only long enough to take off his undershirt.

As I begin to writhe with pleasure, he slides his hand under my nightshirt, pulls my panties aside and slips his nimble fingers between my swollen pussy lips. I moan softly in his ear as my hips shudder in response. He teasingly glides his fingertips against my tingling flesh while he kisses my neck, making me moan uncontrollably.

Unable to take anymore of his teasing, I run my hands through his hair and urge his face to mine, kissing him hungrily as he fumbles with the tiny, satin covered buttons on my nightshirt. I can smell my wetness on his fingertips as I unbuckle his belt and open his pants.

I slide my hands over his chest as he pulls me against him by the lapels of my night shirt. I grope his firm, rounded ass in my hands as he clutches the satiny fabric in his fingertips and rips it open all the way down, the stubborn buttons falling to the floor beneath us.

I moaned feel exposed, ravished and eager with anticipation as he pushes it down over my shoulders and unfastens my bra. Goose bumps cover my skin as he buries his face between my breasts. I moan as he licks and suckles my taut nipples between his full lips. His voice reverberates in my tummy as he works his mouth down my abdomen and past my bellybutton. He slides my panties down to my ankles and I step out of them, the weight of my body still leaning against the wall behind me.

He slides a warm hand gently against the bend of my knee and kisses the inside of my thigh, urging my legs apart. My body shudders as he kisses his way further up my other thigh, until he finally grazes my outer labia with his tongue. I arch my back and shove my hands in his hair as he slides his tongue against my swollen clit.

He grips the outside of my thighs with his strong hands as he pushes his tongue between the aching folds of my flesh. I moan loudly as he licks and sucks my engorged clit, rolling my hips against his handsome face. His warm breath mixes with the cool air around me as he keeps sucking and licking and teasing me relentlessly. He doesn’t stop until my pussy is drenched and my legs begin to tremble.

He stands and kisses me feverishly, his mouth and chin covered in my juices as he pushes his fingers inside of me. I’m so hungry for his cock that I have no more reservations about having just met him or how many women had fallen at his feet, I just want more. Let me feel you inside of me Nathan, I say breathlessly.

He takes off his pants and hoists my naked body into his arms as I clasp my legs around his waist. His breathing is excited and I can feel his heart pounding in his chest as he presses me back against the wall and slips his throbbing cock inside of me. I let out a loud moan, almost gasping as I feel my pussy stretch around his bulbous head. The weight of my body forces him all the way inside of me and I feel gloriously taken by his manhood.

He grasps the cheeks of my ass in his hands and urges my pussy up and down the length of his stiff cock. I put my arms around his neck and kiss him as the head of his cock massages my g-spot.

He moans against my lips and thrusts himself deeper inside of me at a feverish pace. I’m so close that I call out his name which only seems to turn him on more. He carries me to the sofa and lays me down with his cock still buried in my wet pussy. His muscular thighs push my legs wide apart as his weight presses against my hips. I feel surrounded by him. Oh yes, I cry out, Don’t stop.

He leans over me and looks down on me with a determined look. I put my hands on his shoulders and I can feel his muscles flex as he pumps his hips back and forth between my thighs. I start breathing heavier, almost panting as I feel my orgasm stir around his thick cock. He smiles in satisfaction as my pussy tightens around him, and fixes his gaze on me. I fight the urge to close my eyes as tiny beads of sweat drip onto my breasts and his thighs slap against mine.

As his cock strokes every nerve inside of me, I feel the overwhelming tingling sensation take over and I can’t control it any longer. I moan loudly and close my eyes as his hips sway between my open legs, pushing his throbbing erection deeper, harder and faster inside of me. I let go and arch my back as the euphoric wave washes over me. My pussy clenches around his girth as I cum and he moans loudly, stroking himself inside of me faster. My whole body shudders from head to toe as my orgasm floods my senses. He pumps himself inside of me several times more and moans loudly as I feel him erupt like an oil well.

He leans down and kisses me softly, his semi-hard cock still buried in my wetness as we catch our breath together.

Chapter 4 Nate

I fall asleep with her a few minutes after cumming and awake to the muffled vibration of my phone against the floor two hours later. I kiss her lightly and she gives me a sleepy, contented smile without opening her eyes. I ease myself from between her legs and raise myself off of the couch, careful not to disturb her. I find my clothes across the room, slip into my boxer-briefs and dig my phone out of my pocket as I toss my jacket over the arm of a nearby chair.

It’s a text message from Ron: How did drinks with the investors go last night?

I text him back: We’re good to go. Meet me in my office at 8:00 a.m.

I text my driver to meet me out front in ten minutes then find the bathroom and take a leak, surrounded by the girly scent of her perfume and shampoo still lingering in the air. As I pass the kitchen, I can still smell the coffee she put on to brew hours ago and decide to make myself a cup complete with the French vanilla creamer I find in her fridge.

––––––––

As I down a few gulps and let the caffeine start to flow through my system, I watch her sleeping peacefully on the couch. I’m tempted to wake her, partly to say goodbye in a gentlemanly way and partly to pay her back for lying to me about her early morning interview. Peak performance time for my staff is usually from 7:00 a.m. until about noon and I’ve made it a company-wide practice to schedule things like meetings and interviews for after lunch whenever possible. I try to rouse her but she doesn’t budge.

When I finish my coffee, I pick her up and carry her to her bed, deciding to set her alarm clock for a nice early wake-up call instead. I stop to scribble a friendly note on a pink sticky notepad and leave it for her on the kitchen counter. I grab my suit jacket and head for the door then decide to toss it back over the arm of the chair as the perfect excuse for a return visit. I lock her door on my way out and head home to shower and change before going to the office.

Chapter 5 Diana

I wake to a tiny marching band pounding away inside my head, its cymbals crashing in time with the offensively blaring wail of my alarm clock. I squint at the glaring sunlight peeking through the mini blinds and fumble for the ‘Off’ button. I don’t remember getting into to bed last night, let alone setting my alarm.

I lay there for a moment with my face scrunched in the pillow as I try to gather enough saliva to swallow. While I wait for my eyes to adjust, the memory of last night starts coming back to me in bits and pieces like some sort of pornographic jigsaw puzzle.

I remember the bar and feel a twinge of guilt in the pit of my stomach. I had no complaints about the sex, but I’m a nice girl for the most part and nice girls don’t sleep with strange men they meet in bars. Come to think of it, I’m not exactly sure that nice girls sleep with anyone or where they met them when they do but I decide it’s too late to beat myself up over it now.

Startled by the thought that he might still be here, I lift the comforter to check the space in the bed next to me. Fortunately, it’s empty. I stretch and let out a big sigh, happy to avoid wrestling with my conscience and my hangover in front of an audience.

Since my bladder and I are already awake, I decide to use the bathroom and take something for my headache while I’m up. Any other morning at 7 a.m., I would dart out of bed and rush through a shower for fear of being late for work but I could barely move my legs...a small price to pay for the mind-blowing sex I had last night. Even in my compromised state, I can’t help but smile.

I roll myself over the edge of the bed until my feet hit the floor then pull my robe on over my naked body and head to the bathroom. My inner thigh muscles are so sore that I’m tempted to pee standing up for fear that I won’t be able to lift myself off the toilet.

As I leave the bathroom, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and pause. My mascara has left marks on my cheek bones and my hair is a complete mess. I look like a quarter-back who had been sacked one too many times with grease paint under my eyes and a helmet fashioned out of a rat’s nest. Come to think of it, that’s exactly how I feel too.

I check the front door to make sure it’s locked and cry out in pain as I step on the tiny satin covered buttons on my way to the kitchen. I limp to the sink and take two pain relievers with a handful of water then pour myself a cup of coffee from the pot that’s been warming since last night.

I open the fridge to retrieve the handful of individual serving creamers that accidentally made their way into my box of personal belongings from work, only to find them missing. I peer into the trash can and find all five empty little blue cups sitting right on top. He drank my creamer.

As I turn off the coffeepot, I notice a post-it note stuck to the countertop that reads:

Diana, Had a really great time last night but have to work and didn’t want to wake you. I set your alarm so you wouldn’t miss your interview. Good luck today! :) Nate.

That’s what I get for lying, I scoff.

I walk over to the cushion lying on the living room floor and put it back on the sofa, then grab my purse from the coffee table and put my phone on the charger before checking my wallet. There’s still twenty-two dollars in cash, my driver’s license and all of my credit cards inside. At least he didn’t steal my money too. Then again he probably considered it while drinking my creamer, took pity on my declining financial status and decided I needed it more than he did, which is even worse somehow.

Bending over had made me dizzy so I decide to leave my nightgown and buttons on the living room floor and crawl back into bed, hoping the pain reliever will do its job before my interview.

Chapter 6 Nate

I sit at my desk with a cup of coffee and a smile that I can’t seem to get rid of in spite of my lack of sleep. Granted, this isn’t the first time I’ve spent the night charming my way into some gorgeous woman’s bed, but this is different...she’s different.

She’s around five feet, nine, which makes her close to my height in heels and perfect for kissing. Her long, toned legs and gorgeous ass would turn heads in any crowded room. Her long hair isn’t quite brown and isn’t quite red but more of an auburn color that falls in big soft waves around her face. She has deep-set brown eyes that turn up at the corners and full lips that were beckoning me to kiss them from the moment we met. Her breasts are average in size but beautifully shaped and her creamy, fair skin gives her a certain demure look that makes a man wonder what might be burning beneath the surface. I’m hard just thinking about her.

In spite of her natural beauty, what I like about her isn’t purely physical. She’s a technology junkie like me and from what I hear, a damn good software analyst. I can tell that she works hard to maintain a serious image but underneath all of that competent professionalism is a soft, passionate, sexy woman who’s a bit of a klutz and can’t hold her liquor. She’s a walking disaster and I’ve been smitten by her...both literally and romantically, I think to myself as I touch my swollen nose.

Rough night? Ron Stemper asks as he pokes his head into my office.

I take my feet off the desk and sit up in my chair. I didn’t get much sleep last night.

Well whoever she was, it looks like her boyfriend got the best of you.

Who says there was a woman involved? I ask incredulously.

You were whistling when you came in this morning. I’ve known you for twelve years, you always whistle when you get laid the night before.

Seriously? I ask, completely unaware of this revealing habit.

I’d bet my paycheck on it, he laughs, In fact I did, the odds were 7 to 1, you’ve been falling behind this month but I knew you would bounce back sooner or later.

Who else knows about this?

Just the guys in the executive lounge...and your assistant. He starts to hesitate wondering how much shit this is going to get him into.

Jeanine? The eight top executives in my office are all guys I’ve known for years, some of them since college, so we’ve witnessed enough of one another’s past mistakes and personal secrets that it didn’t bother me but my assistant...that’s just wrong.

Hey, we needed someone impartial who could verify whether you came in whistling or not and after a while, she just sort of figured it out. She practically blackmailed us to let her in on it.

Does she place bets too? I ask, trying to resist the urge to call an executive meeting.

"Not for a while now, she thinks you’re in a slump because you’ve been working too hard. I figured it would all blow over after the product launch and I was right. It’s good to know