Stuck with My Bad Boy Billionaire Investor: An Age Gap Lovers Romance

By Kasia Kain

Oh the games men play…

Or maybe it's just that they don't know better than to piss off a woman.

I have never been close to finding the man of my dreams. 

The one I want to spend the rest of my life with.

Until…

Sidney Lemieux; those toffee eyes and the way he looks at me.

The hunger in them…

He can have any woman he wants, but he chose me.

My literal dream man. I want and need him. I can still taste him.

His eyes are loving and dark at the same time and they never leave mine as he holds on to my thigh.

I circle his pec's with my finger and stroll down to his backside.

Take me Sidney.  Take me now…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kasia Kain
• Release date: Sep 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9798224633586

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Copyright 2023 by Kasia Kain - All rights reserved.

In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher.

All rights reserved.

Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

Stuck with My Bad Boy Billionaire Investor

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An Age Gap Lovers Romance

Kasia Kain

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Contents

1.The Non-Believer

1. Taylor

2.Beans and Brews

2. Sidney

3.The Entrepreneur

3. Taylor

4.A Gentleman Never Tells

4. Sidney

5.Sidney Lemieux

5. Taylor

6.Strike a Pose

6. Sidney

7.Look at Me T

7. Taylor

8.Biology I

8. Sidney

9.The Princess Treatment

9. Taylor

10.If Guilt Had a Name

10. Sidney

11.Just Wait Until We Turn Thirty!

11. Taylor

12.A Victim of Circumstances

12. Sidney

13.Your Blog is…Cute

13. Taylor

14.Can We Talk?

14. Sidney

15.House to Mansion

15. Taylor

16.Have You Ever Been in Love?

16. Sidney

17.The Italian Lover

17. Taylor

18.Will You Be My???

18. Sidney

19.We’re Taking the Yacht

19. Taylor

20.Our Happily Ever After

20. Sidney

The End

To my family:

To my mom and dad who are missed every single day;

To Jackie and Dana, Corey and Allie, Brandon,

Maddie and Brooks;

To Gary and Phyllis and Cory.

To Ryan who we lost way too young and the divide it created amongst us, I will be forever heartbroken over losing you.

And

To GOD, Because without you, I would not be.

Chapter 1

The Non-Believer

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Taylor

I don’t know, Taylor. I think you want too much. They’re just regular men, after all, not Prince Charming. Maybe cut them a little slack?

I scrunch my nose up at my best friend Rebecca’s very logical… and very boring advice. Rebelliously, I flip my shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair over my slender shoulder and huff into the phone, staring at her face through the video call. I’m walking in short, determined strides to the new coffee shop in downtown Nashville to check it out and see if I can write about it in my blog. One day, I’ll be coming to places like this with a camera crew and be the host of my own TV show. The dream thrills me.

Time is running out, Becs. I’m twenty-nine years old! I have to find a husband and start making babies. I waggle my eyebrows naughtily at the last part and she laughs.

I’m not a huge believer in love because I’m not a huge believer in men. They aren’t evil, but they aren’t overly interesting, either. My very tipsy New Year’s resolution was to fall in love and finally get my happily-ever-after. And my equally tipsy friends that night have actually remembered my resolution and held me to it. Annoying.

I’ve done my part and gone on dates, meeting up with nice, average men with quiet little jobs, modest investment portfolios, houses with beige walls, and fuel-efficient vehicles parked in their 1.5 car garages. I’m sure their 401k is looking great and all, but after the fifth first date in a row ended up feeling like another snooze-fest, I had to raise the white flag, at least for now.

I look both ways before striding across the street, coffee shop in sight. I mean can you tell me why the nice ones are so boring? It can’t be me, can it? Am I boring, Becs? My tone is light as I tease myself. Confidence is never something I have a short supply of.

You’re impossible, Taylor, but I love ya, girl. I hope you land this gig today! Good luck.

I thank her and hang up. Of course I’ll land the gig. I have to. My parents are counting on me to build a top-notch career. The topic of love still fresh in my mind, I eye a blonde man coming out of the shop. He stops to hold the door for me.

So nice of you, thanks, I coo at him as I offer him a smile, checking him out.

Of its own accord, my brain starts formulating all the ways this could be the start of something lovey dovey and successfully check the husband-to-be box for me. I survey the cut of his khaki pants and the thought becomes dead on arrival.

Beige walls, for sure, I gripe out loud instead of in my mind, my eyes widening in embarrassment. His gaze turns curious. I can’t get away from this man fast enough.

A small smile comes over his face as he observes me with admiration. Yep. I do Pilates, and I guess it shows.

I’m sorry? he says, his teeth perfectly straight as he flashes me a full-on grin. I didn’t catch that, but I’m Tim.

That’s so great, I say lamely stepping through the door. I call over my shoulder as politely as a fleeing damsel can, Enjoy the rest of your day, Tom!

After escaping into the cool interior of the new coffee shop, I pause to get my bearings. That was a disaster. But any way you slice and dice it, I’m still very much single and I’m starting to think it’s time to just give in and become proud of that fact. My standards are high, it’s true. But I do in fact think I deserve the best, that being my very own Prince Charming.

I step to the side to survey the interior, already sizing up where I would set up my camera to capture the charm of the place. Not surprisingly, given how much music is made in Nashville, the décor is a blend of trendy and old school with red vinyl chairs and chromed metal complemented by deep mahogany tables and hints of boho chic in accent pieces. I take out my phone and snap a quick photo to add to my list of upcoming blogs I plan to write.

Now, I just need to find the owner. The place opened two days before, so I’m sure they will be on the premises. I saunter to the counter, all confidence and charm, giving my best smile to the young man behind the cash register. He’s cute and if I were ten years younger, I’d definitely be interested.

Welcome to Beans and Brews. What can I get started for you today? the young man says with a broad smile.

I barely glance at the menu. I’m not here for a coffee. I’m here to make a business deal.

Um, I’ll have an iced tea, unsweetened, I begin with a glance at another man moving behind the counter. In his thick, muscled arms he holds a cardboard box. I can tell it’s heavy by the way his muscles pop up when he heaves it onto the counter about four feet away from me.

I’d take his 1.5 car garage any day of the week. Holy cow! I’m absolutely lost in him for a moment. I feel heat flash to my cheeks, turning them a lustful red. Nashville has its fair share of hot men, but this guy is my dream type.

I don’t even fight the smile of desire that curls my lips up when he glances my way. His eyes are the color of…

Toffee, I sigh as the man returns to his work.

I’m sorry, you want toffee drizzled on your iced tea? The kid behind the cash register is making a grossed-out face.

I want his drizzle all over me. I force my thoughts back to the present moment and laugh lightly.

No, of course, not. I said I’m not a huge fan of lattes. Just the tea, please. Thanks. I sneak a glance back at Dream Man and notice he’s now watching me.

Oh my God! Am I actually flustered? What the heck, Tay. Stop this.

I pay for my order and ask the young guy if the owner is in. He shakes his head and looks behind me at the next customer.

Well, that’s not good, I mutter, frowning.

Maybe I can help you with something? the voice of my dreams says to me.

More than a little turned on by the owner of that voice, I turn my head to meet his gaze. Toffee colored eyes framed with dark brown lashes set in a devastatingly handsome face with straight brown hair slowly takes in my face, then moves down my neck to my torso. I’m glad a counter separates us because I don’t know if I can handle the way he makes me feel with that look of attraction in his eyes as he is surveying all of me.

I spot a name tag. "Patrick, is it? I’m Taylor Burke from Taylor Explores, a blog about new or unusual real estate sales with a focus on how new owners renovate or change the look and feel of the property. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?"

I might sound arrogant, but I’m really not. It’s just part of my customer discovery to ask if any of the owners of the buildings I write about have heard about my blog yet. Many have but there are still quite a few who haven’t, but I know that will change one day soon.

He slowly brings his eyes down to the name tag on his apron then smiles at me, as if he knows a secret that I don’t. I keep the bright smile on my face, hoping he’s more than just a barista and can put me in touch with the owner.

Taylor Burke, he says my name as if the feel of it on his tongue is his favorite thing in the world. You’ll be wanting to speak to the owner, then, to write about Beans and Brews?

Yes, exactly, I say, glad he gets it. Do you know who owns this place?

His grin broadens as if he’s just added another secret to it. I’d say that I do, yes.

He leans against the counter, dangerously close to me now. I catch an intoxicating whiff of masculine cologne, shifting my hormones into overdrive. I want him. Barista or not, poor or not, ordinary or not… I have to get this guy to ask me out. My dreams are big enough to support myself and a barista, I decide.

I hear my name being called out and I walk to the other side of the counter, calling over my shoulder, Don’t go away! I need your help.

Men love helping, or so I’ve observed. Being useful is a role they feel most comfortable in.

I scoop up my drink and hurry back to Patrick, still leaning that muscular frame on the counter. I feel his steamy gaze on me as I walk toward him. A mother with a stroller chooses that exact moment to stand up from her spot at a table and the stroller bumps right into my backside, which sends me jolting toward the counter, brushing arms with Patrick. He reaches out a hand to steady me, keeping my tea from spilling.

Careful there. Wouldn’t want to have to make a new iced tea… with toffee, would we? His voice is playful, and I die a little inside.

He’d heard me! How mortifying.

I cover up my embarrassment with, Really? You don’t want to put… toffee… in my… tea? I draw out flirtatiously, my words suggesting something entirely different.

He clenches his jaw and then his lip’s part slightly as he looks at mine.

Hey, we’re getting a little behind on making orders over here, the young guy calls out, almost apologetically, to Patrick.

The moment is gone, and Patrick’s eyes look at me calmly, but he steals one more glance at my lips. The man you’re looking for is named Nathan. I’ll let him know that Taylor Burke…

There he goes saying my name like its sex itself. My inner thighs quiver for this man.

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