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Billionaire Bad Boys: The Company Ink Series

Page 27

by Kira Blakely


  “Which part?”

  “Working with me.”

  Jackson gave her a wicked smile. “I am hoping it comes with perks.”

  “Oh, you.” She gave him a little slap on the arm and laughed. “I am sure it will, but not in the lab because, you know, conditions.’

  He roared with laughter. “Okay, so we might have to build a room for unclean conditions.”

  Their laughter drifted toward the ceiling. Jackson ran a hand across her hair in a long, soothing gesture. He said, “For real, I want this. I want to do the work with you. I know by this time next year you will have made enough strides to get a new grant, and by then I will probably have gotten solid ground under the idea that I have in there. I don’t want to sell it off to rich pharmaceutical companies any more than you do, so that will never happen, and the good news is I am already rich, so they can’t tempt me like that, and you do not care about money.”

  “Jackson, the good news is that if you donate the money, the university only gets to keep part of the revenue. You would get the bigger portion. It is how investing works, you know.”

  He looked surprised. “Okay then. I don’t care about that though.”

  “I know.” She did know, and it was why she loved him. “I have to ask: why was Robert so impressed by the sale of your video game?’

  He laughed. “You really don’t know?’

  “No.”

  “Because I sold it for close to a billion dollars.’

  A billion…with a B? Her brain froze. She choked. She could not even find air to breathe. He added, “Oh, and it had four games already operational that went with the sale, so there was that.”

  “Oh…um…uh…well then.”

  Jackson laughed loudly. “You see now why I don’t mind putting five mil into this?”

  “Yes, but…” Her lips were numb. “But you don’t act like a guy with that kind of money.”

  He gave her a broad smile. “And I never will.”

  “Thank God,” she said.

  Their mouths met again. Hope let go, surrendering to the man who believed in her and who made her believe in herself.

  EPILOGUE

  CLARA SAID, “Thanks again for getting Jackson to sign on with me as a client.”

  “Oh, I did not get him to do anything. He was yelled at by Dawson until he gave in and decided to do something besides have a pile of money sitting in the bank where he could lose it due to all sorts of things.”

  Clara chuckled. “I will take it however I got it.” Her face darkened as she surveyed Dawson’s apartment and the men inside it. “Oh, shit. Please tell me that is not Stephen coming in the door.”

  Hope asked, “The guy you hate so much?”

  “The very same. Oh, no! he’s coming over here!” Clara tried to duck behind her, but Hope said, “Oh no, you don’t,” and shoved her back in front of her and right into the path of Stephen.

  Stephen caught Clara just as she stumbled. Hope grinned and ducked away before Clara could shoot her a look that could kill her.

  Jackson asked, “What are you laughing at?”

  “I was just thinking that not so long ago I was right in the same place I am now, and I was thinking you were an arrogant jerk that I absolutely did not want to talk to and how things change.” Her eyes went to Clara and Stephen. “And how they don’t.”

  “So you still don’t want to talk to me?” There was a teasing note in Jackson’s voice as he pulled her close and held her tightly.

  “I will never stop talking to you. Oh look, there’s Ashton and Laura!”

  They headed toward the arriving couple just as Lexie and Dawson stepped toward them. As they went, Hope found herself being nothing but grateful for a night she had taken a chance and talked to man she had been sure was the last guy she would ever want to talk to, and wondering just what would happen if Clara would let her guard down long enough to talk to Stephen who so clearly and badly wanted her.

  The End

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  Billionaire In

  The Making

  A COMPANY INK NOVELLA

  THE PREQUEL

  KIRA BLAKELY

  1

  AS HE WATCHED THE WOMAN GET DRESSED, Dawson couldn’t believe he’d actually done it. He’d gone and lost his virginity to the class bike - so nicknamed because every other male kid in high school had probably ridden her.

  He’d thought that he would feel good about finally getting laid, but in all honesty it made him feel a little repulsed. Maybe it’s because it didn’t actually mean anything other than a means to an end, he thought to himself despondently. Yeah, and it could also have something to do with the fact that it was the promise of you getting her a joint to smoke after Friday night’s game that had her opening her legs for you.

  “Don’t forget to get me my weed in time for Friday, yeah?” Her nasally voice almost made him wince in distaste, but he hid it well and just nodded at her as she left the locker room.

  He should have been feeling pleased with himself. Shit, he should have been elated that his cherry had gotten popped by someone with obviously more experience than he had. But all the act had made him feel was vindicated in the thought that there was no such thing as a good woman. All there seemed to be were women who would do anything to get what they wanted.

  He knew that he wasn’t being fair in his assumptions that all women were the same. He also knew that his deep-rooted distrust for the so-called fairer sex was a direct result of his own mother’s abandonment because of her heroin addiction. He didn’t even know her name or anything about her other than the fact that she’d had a habit that had caused his birth to be premature and his life afterwards to be one filled with hardships and devoid of love.

  He didn’t hate women. Far from it. He had a small handful of women whom he adored as friends. But he’d yet to find one that he actually wanted to be in any kind of long-term relationship with. It could be because almost all of the women who’d fostered him had never shown him any kind of compassion or any semblance of love. It could be because he’d listened as foster moms and dads had argued over whether they should take in another child because ‘it would give them more money each month’. Or it could simply be that he’d never met the ‘right one,’ and he didn’t think he’d ever be convinced that she actually existed.

  So far, life hadn’t shown him that it could offer him anything good, but he was determined to make something of himself – he just didn’t know what or how yet. He was seventeen and had just a few months to go in school, and he was determined to graduate, no matter how hard he had to work. He’d been lucky to actually find a high school that would take him, considering how many times he’d been expelled for fighting and vandalism. He knew that most of it was his own fault. This was his last chance, and he couldn’t afford to get thrown out of this one.

  2

  THE ONE THING HE HATED more than school was when the school bell rang to announce the end of the day. Going ‘home’ to the children’s home he now lived in was nothing to look forward to. He could honestly say that he had no good memories of the place. If anything, it was the complete opposite, with his earliest memory being literally locked in the bedroom at nights without a light on. Hell, there wasn’t even a bulb in the light fixture, and the older boys had either comforted the smaller ones who were afraid of the dark, or in some cases laughed at them and called them babies. Dawson had gotten into fights on more than one occasion when he’d stood up for the younger kids.

  With the ‘care-givers’ yelling, and the kids crying and whining, it was nothing short of miraculous that he hadn’t run away. Fuck, it would probably be more peaceful living on the streets than in this hell hole, he’d thought on more than one occasion. He’d even had to fight the urge to run away and actually live
on the streets rather than go home every night to the hell that ensued at the home, and if it hadn’t been for his best friend, Ashton, who he had more or less grown up with at the home, that’s probably exactly what he would have done. But he had less than a year to go at school and at the home, and Ashton needed him just as much as he needed Ashton – especially if they were actually going to do what they were so determined to do and graduate.

  Besides, the gym he’d joined gave him some semblance of normality; it was a place where he could do his homework in relative peace and take out his frustrations and anger at the world in the boxing ring. Ralph, the guy who owned and ran the place, had broad shoulders and a willingness to listen to the kids who frequented his gym, and he always seemed to know when something was troubling them. His place was more than just somewhere where kids could work out. It was a sanctuary of sorts.

  Ralph had been watching him pummel the crap out of the punching bag for the past twenty minutes, and a blind man would have been able to see the anger that spewed out of the young man. Ah, son, what have you gotten yourself into now, he thought as he made his way across the floor to take hold of the punching bag that Dawson was busy torturing.

  “You wanna talk about it?”

  “Talk about what?” Dawson’s words ended on a whoosh as he threw another punch at the bag.

  The older man winced at the power behind the punch, but he kept hold of it. “About whatever it is that has you knocking the sawdust outta my poor bag here.”

  Dawson shook his head and wiped the sweat away from his eyes with his forearm. “Nothing to tell.” The old man just grunted in response, and Dawson knew that he wasn’t fooled for a minute. “I hate my life, Ralph. I hate everything about it.” He threw another punch that made the bag swing on its chain.

  “Everyone has a cross to bear, son, and this one is yours. But are you gonna let it stop you from making things better, or are you gonna overcome it and become stronger as a person?” Ralph had been running the gym for long enough to know that there were some kids you could help and some who simply didn’t want helping, and he’d known Dawson long enough to know that the kid could go places if he really tried.

  Dawson finally stopped punching the bag and grabbed at the towel that was slung across his shoulders. “I’m just tired of it, Ralph. I thought things would get easier, and I’ve been doing good at school and getting my grades up, but I never feels like it’s enough.” He threw a smile at the man that held more cynicism than any seventeen-year-old should ever have. “I got laid today for the first time, and even that felt wrong. Probably because she was nothing more than a slut and it was in the boy’s locker room at school.”

  The flicker of disappointment and admonishment in Ralph’s eyes made Dawson feel a little ashamed at his words. “Now that’s no way to talk about a lady, son. No way at all. Even if she doesn’t act very ladylike.” He handed a bottle of water to the teenager. “Remember, everyone has a story, and you don’t know why she acts the way she does any more than she knows why you act the way you do. Always try to put yourself in other people’s shoes before you judge them too harshly, boy.”

  “Yes, sir.” Ralph was one of the few people in the world who Dawson respected, and the tone of his voice reflected it.

  The following morning, he and Ashton walked to school together as they usually did. Dawson had just finished telling his friend about the events in the locker room the day before, and Ashton was slapping him on the back in congratulations.

  “Yeah, bro! You finally got your dick wet, huh?”

  “Fuck you, asshole.” He playfully pushed his friend away, pretending to throw a punch in his direction.

  “Aw look. The un-loveable duo is in love – with each other.” Dawson felt his heart sink as he heard the unmistakable sound of the senior class bully jeering as his cohorts laughed along with him. “I’m surprised you didn’t fall right into that whore. I bet it was like throwing a hotdog down a hallway.” The kid was trouble with a capital T, and he liked nothing better than to make ‘the losers’ as he called them, feel even worse than they already did. He was built like a brick shithouse, but his IQ was so low that only his reputation as the star football player allowed him to get away with treating people the way he did.

  “How the fuck you can stand to be near each other is a mystery. Fucking losers. Your own fucking parents didn’t even want you,” he said.

  Dawson could feel Ashton tensing up beside him and his senses went on high alert. He was under no false illusions as to just how dangerous his friend could be when riled, and these guys were doing a damn good job of riling him right now.

  “Come on. Let’s just get to class, Ashton.” He put his hand on his friend’s arm to try and steer him away, but Ashton just shrugged him off.

  “What did you say to me, asshole?” His tone was quiet, but you couldn’t miss the menace behind it.

  “You heard me, loser. I don’t even know why they let your kind come to this school. All you do is stink the place up with your smell.” The kid was walking towards them, and Dawson felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

  SHIT, this was not good, he thought as he looked around them almost desperately to see if there were any teaching staff nearby who could help them. Ashton was strong enough to fight his own battles, but he’d been in so many fights that the next one would probably land him in jail.

  Dawson took his hand off his friend and stepped back. There wasn’t much he could do unless he wanted to end up expelled, and he had too much riding on these last couple of months before graduation to join in the fight that his best friend seemed determined to take part in.

  That is, until he saw a knife in the other kid’s hand, and everything changed in the blink of an eye. All rational thoughts regarding school and graduating flew out of his mind as he saw the glint of the knife’s blade as it reflected in the sunlight.

  “Ashton! Knife!”

  His shouted warning came just as the boy lunged forward, and Ashton jumped backward just far enough that the knife grazed his chest rather than plunge into it, but the stain of red as it spread across his best friend’s t-shirt was enough to motivate Dawson into action. Moving as quickly as he could, he managed to grab hold of the kid’s arm before he could swing again, twisting it backwards with one hand while the other landed a punch to his gut.

  Hearing the knife hit the ground and the other boys run off, Dawson took the time to breathe a sigh of relief until Ashton started pummeling the kid in earnest. He didn’t stop until Dawson pulled him away.

  “He’s done. Come on, man. Let’s get out of here.”

  They made their way to the bathroom so that Ashton could check out the knife wound on his chest and the two of them could clean themselves up. Dawson’s adrenaline was finally starting to slow down, and he’d stopped shaking enough to actually talk.

  “What the fuck, Ash? You couldn’t just walk away, could you?”

  “What was I supposed to do, bro? I couldn’t let that douchebag get away with saying all that shit to us.” He shot a grin in Dawson’s direction. “He won’t try that shit again, will he? I beat the living fuck outta him. Did you see his nose spread across his face?” Dawson gave a wry smile back in return. “Thanks for having my back, dude.”

  “Always, brother. You know that. We’re family.” There weren’t many people that Dawson could say that about, but he and Ashton had been through a lot together, and he was the only person he knew that felt like family. He knew without a doubt that if he ever needed anything, Ashton would always be there and vice versa.

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  Play Time

  A Sports Romance

  KIRA BLAKELY

  Description

  Devon

  I’ve got it all. Women want me and guys want to be me. Not to mention I’m a star running back at a D1 college with an NFL future ahead of me. I’m known for getting women to drop their panties with just one look. It’s almost not even a
challenge anymore. Until I met her…

  Callie

  I’m on a mission to be the best damn student I can be while in college and nothing can distract me from my goal. That is until Devon walked into my dorm, NAKED, one day. I mean who the hell does he think he is. Hung is for sure but cocky none the less. I’ve never liked cocky jocks but this guy makes me melt in all the right ways. UHH…

  Chapter One - Callie

  The blare of the alarm clock jolted me awake. My heart beat fast like a hard, exclaiming drumroll. “Fuck!” I yelled, gripping my left breast. It felt like the organ was about to pump right out of my chest. “There should be warning labels on these things!” I was breathing heavily, and I sounded like a ninety-eight-year-old woman with one lung as I struggled to catch my breath.

  My eyes felt strained before I even thought about opening them fully to the brightness surrounding me. I really needed to get some blackout curtains to block some of that shit, especially if I was going to be up late studying like I was the night before.

  I grumbled and slung my feet over to the side of my twin-sized bed.

  It was just the first week of school, and logically speaking, I really didn’t have to study already, but there wasn’t really anything else to do. That is, there was nothing else to do except party like an idiot and drool over the guys on the in-between floors. But, I wasn’t there for that.

  I was there to learn – nothing more, nothing less.

  As the first one in my family to go to college, I actually wanted something to come from it. I didn’t want to be like one of those girls. It was hard enough being a millennial. College educations weren’t that important anymore – not unless you planned on grabbing a post-graduate degree as well. I didn’t have time to be a drooling idiot. I had to stand apart from them; get good grades, get into an even better Master’s program.

 

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