by Gilead, Kate
Billionaire
A First-Time Steamy Romance
Kate Gilead
Copyright © 2019 by Kate Gilead
All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This story contains adult themes, sexual encounters and strong language. It is intended for mature audiences only.
All sexual acts described herein are consensual and all characters are 18 years of age or older.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue Chapter 13
Extended Epilogue Chapter 14
Also by Kate Gilead
Chapter One
Cherry
Another gust of wind brings a swirling curtain of snow, obscuring everything around me, even the red brake lights on the long line of traffic ahead of me.
Anxiety gnaws at my gut.
Great. The “possible snow squalls” the weatherman warned about this morning seem to be turning into a freakin’ blizzard with white-out conditions now.
Late February snow in Toronto is a given, for sure.
But why does it have to be a really bad storm today of all days?
I knew it was risky taking Highway 401, the busiest highway on the continent, to the downtown core.
Especially in my ancient Chevy.
And it’s Friday, and that means there’s more traffic than usual as well.
Even leaving much earlier than I normally would didn’t make a difference. There must be an accident up ahead as well as snow and traffic volume adding to the chaos.
Anxiously, I check my phone for the time. Ten minutes to my scheduled interview. Nope. Not gonna make it.
I gotta call them.
Ahead, the red tail lights blink off and traffic moves ahead somewhat.
We’re going slow enough. It should be okay to use my phone in the car if I’m careful.
Keeping half an eye on the traffic, which has disappeared in another gust of snow, I keep my foot on the brake, locate the company’s info in my phone’s contacts and tap the dial icon.
Looking up at traffic as I lift the phone to my ear, it seems to be moving ahead again finally.
I goose the throttle a tiny bit to catch up.
Another gust of wind comes up, the strongest one yet. Oh…oh, no! It’s actually pushing my car from behind.
And, oh shit…it feels like I’m sliding now…there must be an icy patch here under all this freshly fallen stuff.
Dropping my phone into my lap, I try braking gently.
But braking does nothing…I’m sliding and I can’t see anything ahead…oh God please stop, please stop…!
Red brake lights loom up, barely visible in the blowing snow.
“Ohhh shit! Shit shit shit!”
Pumping my brakes lightly in time with each expletive, I turn my steering wheel into the skid.
It’s no good.
The icy patch combined with heavy wet snow is too much for my balding tires. My car just sails along until…
Kah-LUNK!
I hit the back of the car in front of me. Not too hard, but hard enough that I’m thrown forward against my seat belt.
My touchy, grumpy engine, on its last legs like everything else on this car, coughs and then sputters to a halt.
Oh, come on! Really?
Why today, of all days?
* * *
“Ohhh, fuuuck, lady! Whyn’tcha watch what ya doin’?”
The dude from the car ahead flings open his door, bounds out and is now staring incredulously at me, then the back of his car, then back at me, as if he can’t believe this happened.
Someone honks their horn, the sound muffled by the snow in the air.
“Jesus Christ, lady!” The man comes to my window and peers in, big snowflakes decorating his head and angry visage. “Whyn’tcha watch what ya doin? Ya can’t drive inna snow? Jesus Christ!” He’s red-faced and sputtering.
Just to be safe, I engage my door locks while opening my window a crack.
“Sir, please calm down. Are you hurt? I’ll get my…”
“Calm down? I got shit tah do, lady. Lookit this mess!”
Even though traffic is at a standstill basically, I’m nervous about this guy getting himself killed or causing another accident, just by acting foolish in the roadway.
And that would be my fault, too.
“I…look, I know. Calm down, we’re in the middle of traffic here. Don’t freak out!”
“I got shit tah do!” He throws his arms up in the air and paces in a circle. “Gimme ya insurance info and I won’t call the cops! Damn! Fuckin’ bullshit!” He puts his hands in his pockets, paces forward to look at his bumper again, then looks my car over and comes back to my window. “Lookit ya tires! Ya got no treads on ‘em tires, lady! What the fuck ya drivin’ on tires like dat?”
Shit, the one time I use my phone when I’m driving anymore and look what happens! I rear-end a psycho with “shit tah do.”
For the umpteenth time since I came back to Toronto, a wave of loneliness and self-pity washes through me. I have no one to help me, no one to call.
My elderly parents are far away in Ottawa. They’d want to help me, but what could they do except worry?
Feeling very lost, alone, and at the end of my rope, I start digging in my purse for my insurance card.
The man’s still pacing outside my window. “Hey,” I call out to him, “You don’t seem to be hurt. I’m not hurt. I didn’t hit you very hard, okay? Everything will be cool! Calm down!”
“You fuckin’ calm down! You fuckin’ hit me, you gonna make it right! Ain’t gettin’ out of it!”
“Not trying to get out of anything…just gimme a sec, I’m looking for my card.”
Outside in the swirling snow, the dude flips the hood from his jacket over his head, crams his hands into his pockets and continues pacing, shaking his head and muttering angrily.
He stops by my window once again. “Hurry up! It’s freezin’ out here!”
“I’m trying….”
From the traffic behind comes more muffled honking, longer blasts now and more insistent.
Good thing we’re in the passing lane. Traffic can only go one way around us, leaving us some breathing room on the driver’s side.
Vehicles behind start making their slow way around us, merging into existing traffic when they can.
This is too much. My heart’s pounding as the gravity of the situation sinks in.
I can’t afford any extra expenses right now. I can’t afford to fix my car, can’t afford a rate hike on my car insurance.
Fingers shaking as I dig through my wallet for my insurance card, all I can think is how screwed I am.
Around us, the blowing snow dampens the wor
st of the traffic noise. It’s not even lunch time but the storm clouds are creating an ominous gloom, lit only by vehicle headlamps and the yellow and red lights of blinkers and taillights.
“Lookit this mess! Come on!” The dude outside is really snarling now.
Where is that card? Don’t tell me I don’t have it with me?
Now, he grabs my door handle and yanks on it.
“Hey!” I stop what I’m doing and glare at him through the window. “Don’t touch my car! Calm down! I’m trying to find my…”
He tugs my door handle again. “Don’t gimme no problems, lady! I ain’t got…”
As if from nowhere, another figure materializes out of the swirling snow.
“You’re gonna have a problem if you don’t simmer down.”
Deep voice. Calm, and despite the words, the tone is amiable.
It’s a guy in a parka. He stops by my window and I peer upwards, way up. Alll I see is some light facial hair, an ear, part of a face and a head covered with a knitted cap.
“Mind ya biz! She fuckin’ rear ended me.” Angry Dude shoves the guy and starts yanking on my door handle again.
A large gloved hand descends on the Angry Dude’s arm and in one second flat, the Angry Dude has been whirled around, the one hand that was on my door handle now being forcibly held way up high behind his own back.
“Hey! Hey! Fuck you, don’t touch me, ya fuckin’…” His voice trails off into grunts as he struggles, flailing behind him with his free hand. “Ya fuckin’ hurtin’ me! Call the cops! Someone call the cops!”
“Are you professionally stupid or just brain-damaged?” The parka-wearing dude’s voice is still conversational. “It was an accident. These things happen. Now calm the fuck down.”
That voice…sounds kind of familiar.
“Yeah yeah, fuck, lemme go, Jesus…”
“I will, as soon as you promise to go move your car off the road like a good boy. Then I’ll get this lady’s insurance info for you. What’s wrong with you, anyway, bullying a helpless lady like that.”
Dumping my whole bag out on the passenger seat now, I’m frantically clawing through my stuff for my insurance card.
Who…why is that voice so familiar?”
“I want the cops! I wanna file a police report!!”
Thank God, there’s the card.
“Cops don’t come out for fender-benders,” the guy with the familiar voice is saying. “Your bumper isn’t even bent, it’s more like, scraped. You gotta get your car off the road and take it somewhere for a repair estimate. Then you file a police report. That’s how it works, buddy. Get with the program.”
“…the program.” The “program”…? That particular word…that voice…what the hell?
“Okay okay, just lemme go!”
The man with the familiar voice lets go of Angry Dude, who whirls around to get a look at who he’s dealing with.
Seeing he’s outclassed in size wises him up. He takes a step back and swipes at his mouth. “I’ll be right over there, in the breakdown lane.” He backs up another step and points at me. “I gotcha license plate number so don’t try nuttin’ funny!”
With another glare at the man in the parka, he disappears into the swirling snow and in a moment, his car’s signal light flashes as he makes his way across the lanes of traffic to wait on the side.
My rescuer stands watching for a moment, then steps over to my window. I roll it all the way down.
“You okay ma’am?” He bends down to look at me and…oh!
Oh my God!
Warm brown eyes under thick, straight brows. A light growth of beard surrounding a sensuous mouth.
A mouth I’ve thought about kissing more than once.
That face!
It’s a little older now but I could never forget it.
Brad Abernathy.
Holy shit!
My first work crush, ever. And it was a bad one.
I had it Bad for Brad, that’s how I used to think of it.
Man! But…but… what’s he doing here?
I’m staring at him, speechless. Snowflakes land here and there, on his hat, his facial scruff and an enviable set of eyelashes that I remember so well.
Then a big wet clump lands right on that tasty-looking bottom lip, and I remember how much I used to dream about taking that lip between my own.
Like no time has passed, I get a quick mental flash of leaning forward to melt that snow off his mouth with a kiss.
Then he licks it off his lips himself and squints at me.
His whole body stiffens and his head goes back a bit as his eyes widen in surprise. His mouth drops open, then closes again, followed by that sexy mouth breaking into a toothsome grin. The same grin that made me weak in the knees so many years ago.
He puts both hands on the door and leans a little bit closer towards me.
“Cherry?! Cherry Hill? From Borden Software!”
“Yep, it’s me! Brad Abernathy! Hi! I knew I recognized your voice! Especially when you said “Get with the program!”
“Wow, yeah! Of course! Programming was our life back then. What the…holy shit! This is…crazy!”
Those deep brown eyes are just the same as I remember.
Seems like he’s even looking at me the same way he always did…making me feel warm and loose, like he’s got some jovial but naughty thoughts playing behind that high, intelligent forehead.
He laughs, that boyish guffaw that used to make me smile back helplessly.
It still has the same effect. Even in my state of shock, I can’t help but smile.
It’s amazing how happy seeing him makes me feel, even after all these years.
Even now, in the midst of this mess.
We both start talking at the same time.
Me: “How did you…were you right behind me in traffic?”
Him: “Well, I gotta ask: What’s a girl like you doing out in a storm like this?”
We both pause, smiling. Then Brad says, “You first.”
“Oh, God. I’m on my way downtown and I…well, I got distracted and…” I shrug but I can feel my face flushing with embarrassment.
“Yeah.” He peers through the snow at the traffic around us. “Cherry, wow. It’s so nice to see you, despite the…you know.” He waves his hand at my car, then his expression turns serious. “Are you okay?”
“Y-Yes, I…thank you. I’m just, y’know, a bit shaken up.” I’m still staring at him, wondering if I’m dreaming or what.
“Sure, that’s to be expected. But, are you hurt? Whiplash?”
“No, I don’t think so.” I run my hands over my neck and then put them to my face, taking a deep breath. “I’m so embarrassed! I didn’t…oh! I have to call my…I’m expected somewhere and I’m late!”
“Oh, um, right, okay. Well, you gotta give your info to the guy there, so… better pull off the road and I’ll give him your info for you, like I told him. All right?” He stands up straight. “You think you can drive okay?”
“Yes. I just hope this thing starts,” I reply, turning the key in the ignition.
Rrrr-rrr-rrr….ka-chuuuuh….and nothing.
Brad frowns. “It should be fine. You weren’t going fast enough to damage anything in the collision.”
“Yeah, but it’s been stalling out lately and it did it again after the impact.”
I turn the key in the ignition again.
Rrrrr-rrrr-rrrr…ka-chuuuh….nothing.
I glance up at him. That little frown is deeper.
“Once more,” he says, nodding encouragingly.
Rrrr-rrr-rrr…ka-chuuuuh… nothing.
“Damn it!” I give the steering wheel a frustrated thump with my hand. “I think it needs a tune up or something. It’s old, and I…I just haven’t been wanting to spend any money on it.”
I try one more time, with the same result.
Poor Brad, standing there so patiently in the cold, clumps of snow falling all over and around him.
�
�Hmm. It sounds like the starter,” he says. He straightens up, looks around at the traffic, then bends back down. “I can take a look at it if you wanna pop the hood. If it’s not the starter, I might be able to get it going but we gotta make it quick. We’re blocking traffic here.”
I pop the hood release. He opens the hood, then disappears behind it. After a minute, his head pops back into view. “Try it now,” he calls out.
Rrrr-rrr-rrr…ka-chuuuuhhh.
He disappears again, then pops back into view after a moment. “Okay, one more try.”
Rrrr-rrr-rrr…ka-chuuuuhhh.
A cold feeling settles in my stomach.
He closes the hood then comes back to the window.
“Well Cherry, I got good news and bad news.”
“Okay?”
“Bad news is, it’s nothing I can fix right now. The starter might be seizing and needs replacing.”
I nod. “Okay. And what’s the good news?”
“See that tow truck in the break-down lane right there? That’s mine. Abernathy Towing, at your service.”
Chapter Two
Brad
Cherry Hill.
Beautiful redhead, great smile.
Never thought I’d see her again, but now, here she is.
What a crazy coincidence.
I’m poking around under her hood, fiddling with this and that, even though I can already tell, it’s not gonna work.
Pausing to breathe on my hands to warm them up, I shake my head at the dirty, worn state of just about everything I’m looking at here.
This engine needs to be put out of its misery.
Can’t help but wonder why Cherry’s driving this wreck in the first place. Looks like she’s fallen on hard times.
Not that it’s my business. Yet…I’m here..she’s here…and I feel like making it my business.