Filthy Love: A Billionaire Romance
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About this ebook
Bella Hamilton is on a mission. Her best friend, Ava, is about to marry, and her surprise nuptials have thrown Bella’s long-scheduled BFF plans for marriage and babies out of whack.
Never fear, Bella has a plan. She always has a plan. An interview with a young, hot billionaire is the golden opportunity she needs. And since she has no experience with men, she plans to use everything she’s learned from years of reading romance novels to lure him into her web.
What on earth could go wrong?
Jude McCormick is nothing like his older brother. He doesn’t believe in marriage. He doesn’t yearn for a family. He goes from woman to woman and the only thing he longs for is escaping the yoke of his family’s legacy.
But then he meets Bella. He’s instantly attracted, but she dismisses him. He tries to flirt, but she reacts with disgust. She drives him crazy with lust, but she won’t give him the time of day.
At the end of his rope, he’s forced to take a harder look and the more he learns about this strange girl, the faster he falls in love.
Dirty, filthy love.
If you’ve ever wondered what it might be like if your significant other took cues from your favorite book boyfriends—you might like this novella!
Matilda Martel
Matilda loves many things---her husband, dachshunds, cats, the two terrible Chihuahuas who live with her, Paris, New York, a few select friends and family, Nutella, books, lots and lots of books, and writing sweet, steamy romance for nerdy girls-- because that's who I am.If you like your romances steamy but sweet. Sexy, but on the shorter side. With smart and sassy heroines who fall for soulful Alphas- then you might like my books.I write A LOT of OMYW, cause that's just my bag. But no matter what kind of story it is, my ladies are always adored and my endings are always HEA.Please head to my blog: www.matildamartel.com, to learn what's in the final stages and will be coming out soon!Want a free Ebook? Join my mailing list to get my monthly newsletter at : www.matildamartel.com/mailinglist/
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Book preview
Filthy Love - Matilda Martel
Chapter 1
Jude
It’s a trap.
Love. Marriage. Babies. Whatever. As long as I live, I’ll never understand why so many men run headlong into matrimony and expect their experience to be any different from the many fools who wish they had a life like mine.
I see the way they look at me. Every time I’m out on the town with a beautiful doll, I’ll catch the eye of some poor schlub escorting his missus for their monthly date or anniversary dinner, and the look in his eye gives his misery away. His collar grows a little tighter. Memories of his youth burn a bit brighter. It’s glaringly painful, and I’ll have no part of it.
Love doesn’t suit me. Long walks on a warm night. Showing up for a date with flowers and candy. Writing love letters to that special girl who keeps you up at night. That’s just nonsense. My heart doesn’t work that way.
I don’t think it works at all.
I’m not angling for pity. It’s fine with me. I accept it. I’m not a kid who believes in love at first sight. I don’t believe in soul mates or fate. Why complicate your life with shit you can’t control?
I have no desire to walk in my older brother’s shoes. The idiot’s in love. Madly in love. I’ve never seen him like this--- frankly, it’s pathetic.
I used to respect him. He governed his world with meticulous precision. He didn’t have time for frivolous pursuits. He’s the eldest. The crown prince of the empire we inherited. Nothing came between him and our father’s company.
Not even me.
He took on most of the load, rarely had any fun, and gave me the rubbish I couldn’t possibly destroy.
For most of my adult life, he’s delegated menial tasks and bullshit responsibilities to keep me out of his hair. I resented it initially, but now that he wants me to pull my weight, I realize I much preferred being neglected.
I don’t have time to execute all the duties of a Chief Marketing Officer and maintain an active social life. It just can’t be done. It’s only been a week since he started cracking the whip, and I’m already exhausted.
Mr. McCormick. Your brother wants to see you in his office in ten minutes.
My assistant’s voice buzzes through the intercom.
Kim, can you tell him...
I’m quickly interrupted.
Sorry, Jude.
She recognizes the displeasure in my voice. I already offered a few lame excuses. He knows you’re not busy until your noon meeting and says it’s important.
Fuck. What now?
Tell him I’ll be there in ten. I need to hit the head.
I kick away from my desk, stomp out of my chair and march from my office into the hallway. Steps from the bathroom, my eyes shift to the oversized clock on the wall. It’s 11:30. Why the shit can’t this wait until after lunch? I don’t appreciate being ordered around.
I swing the door open.
Everybody out!
Frustrated, I bark at the dawdlers taking up space in the executive washroom.
This is bullshit. I need my own bathroom. I haven’t complained because I wasn’t working, but if Declan plans to make me work full days, I’ll want a bigger office and a private washroom---just like him. This company is part mine. Dad left it to both of us and it’s about time he stops acting like he’s King of McCormick Media.
I take care of business, wash my hands, check my hair, and head out to the better side of the hallway. Declan’s domain.
Mr. McCormick...just a second. I’ll announce you.
My brother’s assistant shoots out of her seat as soon as she spots me.
I wave her off. I’m on a schedule, Holly. It’s been ten minutes.
I tap my watch and push open the door.
You rang?
I raise an eyebrow and slam the door behind me.
I did.
He leans back in his chair and smirks. I need to speak to you about your interview at noon.
What interview?
I search my mind and try to remember the name on the Post-It note Kim slapped on my desk this morning.
He crosses his arms at his chest. The fucking interview you have in twenty minutes. Jesus Christ, Jude. I know your schedule. You haven’t done a damn thing all day but cruise into the office at 10:30, drink a protein shake, answer emails that should have been answered last week, and what else? Bathroom breaks? Flirting with the girls in social media? This might be the only thing on your calendar today. Can you get your head out of the clouds long enough to do your job for one goddamn hour?
An hour? Who is it? Since when do you send anyone important to me?
I run my fingers through my hair and again reconsider his offer to sign over my portion of the company.
I think about it every day. It’s the first thing on my mind as soon as I wake up, and it’s the thing that keeps me up at night. Perhaps it’s best to enter early retirement. I hate this company. I hate media. This life, this work has never been a good fit for me. Dad knew what he was doing when he left Declan in charge.
"You are the Chief Marketing Officer. I didn’t want to give you that position. You do absolutely nothing to deserve it. I can’t give you anything too important because you’ll fuck it up, and you know you will." Declan throws a pen at me, but I catch it mid-air and throw it back.
Just tell me who I’m interviewing so I can get the hell out of here. Next week, draw up the damn paperwork to get me out of this shit show. I’m blowing my life away in this building.
I snatch a piece of paper from his desk and grab a pen. Give me this person’s name and tell me what I’m supposed to do. I don’t care enough to go through the motions of judging their character.
He cocks his head and sighs. You can’t leave yet. I need you here for the next three weeks.
No, you don’t. You just want to talk me out of it.
I shake my head and stand to leave. I’ve had enough of his big brother lectures.
No, leave. I’m all for it. I’ll pack your desk and buy you a cake. This company doesn’t suit you. But I need you to stay around while I’m away. Lawson will help you run things with Uncle Killian, who flies in tonight. But they can’t sign shit. Only you can. Lawson has a full-time job, and Killian hasn't worked in business in years.
He pauses and lightens his tone.
You don’t have to work all day. Just make a daily appearance.
Declan stands and heads towards his window. Typical. He always stands by his window when he starts one of his lectures.
You don’t fool me. I’m serious. I don’t want to be here anymore. And where the hell are you going? You never go anywhere.
I recline against the door and wait for his speech.
"I said, I’m glad you want out. But I need you to stay for three weeks because I’m getting married. I’ll be planning my wedding, moving my Ava into our place, and then taking her on a honeymoon.