Confessions of a Bad Boy Millionaire

by Cathryn Fox

  “Or the right idea,” I say and put our bags on the bed. She stands there for a moment, hands on her hips, lips puckered.

  “I’ll get changed in the bathroom.” She points to the closed door.

  “Okay, but knock before you come out, I might not be decent.”

  What the hell are you doing, dude?

  “I will,” she says quickly and unzips her bag. She pulls out her suit and a cover-up and darts into the bathroom.

  I tug off my t-shirt, and pull on a pair of board shorts. Eliza might not be planning a swim, but I sure as hell need something to cool me off. I sit on the bed and wait for her. I bounce a little on the comfy mattress to test it. Nice. Not that I’ll be experiencing a good night’s sleep tonight. No, the only place I’ll be sleeping is on the floor. If I have to share a bed with her, it’s game over for me. A guy only has so much willpower.

  “Brax,” Eliza says, followed by a knock, through the closed bathroom door. “You decent?”

  My body is but my mind is far from it.

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  The door creaks open, and Eliza comes into the bedroom dressed in a knee-length bathing suit cover-up. It hugs her curves and hides her gorgeous body. Goddammit, who’d have thought that I’d be jealous of a cover-up. Needing a distraction before I grab her, toss her onto the bed and climb on top, I clear my throat and walk back to the window. I stand there for a moment, let my gaze rake over her co-workers.

  “Which one is Jason?” I ask.

  She pads quietly across the room, and I listen to the way her breathing has changed at the mention of Jason. Her body brushes mine as she stands at the window, and I swallow down the moan rising in my throat. She scans the pool area, lit by a dozen lights, and then she points.

  Son. Of. A. Fucking. Bitch.

  “Right there. He’s doing something on his phone.” She gives a strange little laugh. “Always working. I guess that’s why I can’t get his attention.”

  Her eyes dart to mine, and that’s when I get it. Little Eliza—Lizard—still feels like that overlooked girl from our youth. Jesus fucking Christ, she doesn’t get it. Doesn’t get that she’s the most beautiful woman at this party and a guy like Jason isn’t worthy of her. I said it before and I’ll say it again, she needs a guy who’s going to worship the ground she walks on.

  A guy like me.

  Whoa, don’t go there.

  “We’d better get down there and see what we can do then,” I say, and try not to sound as pissed off as I feel.

  “Game on,” she responds, her eyes wide.

  I follow her out of the bedroom and we retrace our steps until we’re outside. More introductions are made and when we reach Jason, who still has his nose in his phone, it’s all I can do not to knock his teeth out. Eliza is speaking and he’s completely fucking ignoring her.

  “Jason,” she says again, and I slide my arm around her waist, pull her against me, mainly to occupy my hands before I do something I can only regret later.

  “What?” he finally asks and looks up at us. He runs his hand through his mess of hair. When was the last time he used a comb? Then again, with a scrubby beard and baggy clothes, he has that shabby look going for him that the girls seem to love. Personally, I prefer to keep my hair short and wear clothes that fit. Still, even I know a good looking guy when I see one. I’m just finding flaws because I don’t like him.

  “I’d like you to meet Braxton, he’s my—”

  Before she can finish the sentence, Jason is on his feet. “Everyone knows who Braxton is,” he says, cutting her off, and it pisses me off a bit. I know her boss interrupted her, and not in a mean way, but I would have liked for Jason to at least let her finish speaking. She is, after all, here to get him to notice her.

  He holds his hand out, and his impressive height allows us to stand eye to eye—his are the same color of blue as mine—and I take that moment to size him up. He obviously works out, and under those loose clothes, he’s probably cut. I suppose I can understand Eliza’s attraction to him. Truthfully, if he shaved his beard, and dressed properly, we could easily pass as relatives.

  “Braxton Freeman. In the flesh,” he says, a huge smile on his face as I shake his hand. “I can’t believe I’m breathing the same air as you.” He shakes his head. “What are you doing here?”

  As we shake, I lecture myself on playing nice. I don’t want to mess this up for Eliza. Right? “I’m here with, Eliza,” I say. “She invited me for a weekend getaway.”

  For one shocked moment he stares at me, disbelief written all over his face. Then he shakes his head, and turns to Eliza. He gazes at her, giving her the once over, looking at her in a whole new light. Shit.

  “Eliza, I had no idea you knew, Braxton. What other connections have you been keeping from me?”

  “I’m not keeping anything from you,” she says.

  “Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to meet the Braxton Freeman?” He turns to me. “You’re a legend in this industry. Started your own business from the ground up. Forbes Top 30 Under 30.” He wags his brow. “San Francisco’s Most Eligible Bachelor.”

  I hug Eliza tight. A possessive move, I know. If I keep that up, no one will believe the breakup. “Brax and I go way back,” she says and puts her hand on my chest. Her fingers splay, and I place my hand over hers and hold it there.

  It takes Jason a second to put it together. “Oh, wait you two are a—”

  “Couple,” I say, and lean in and give her a kiss right on her open mouth.

  Jason clears her throat. “Wow, I had no idea.”

  “How about a swim?” I ask Eliza.

  She smiles up at me, and I keep one eye on her and one on Jason. “Love to.”

  “Talk to you later, Jason,” I say and lead her away.

  “Yeah, I’d love to talk to you,” he says eagerly. “Let’s get a drink later.”

  I lower my voice and put my mouth near Eliza’s ear. “So that’s him, huh?”

  She nods. “He seems to really like you.”

  “And his phone,” I say. Shit. I’m here to help Eliza win the attention of this douchebag, not point out all his flaws, or come right out and tell her he’s not good enough for her. She’s a grown woman who can make her own choices and that would be a dick move on my part.

  At the edge of the pool, Eliza peels off her cover-up and I nearly bite off my fucking tongue. I glance around, take note of the eyes on her. Jason’s gaze slowly lifts from his phone, and they move over Eliza appreciatively. Anger flares through me. What? She wasn’t good enough for him until he saw her with me.

  Cool it, Brax, that was the whole of idea of the ruse.

  Yeah, but that still doesn’t mean I have to like it. I dive straight into the deep end as Eliza finds the stairs and wades in. I swim the length of the pool under water and when I come up, I find her talking to Valerie. I have no idea what they’re saying, but from their glances I’m guessing it’s something about me.

  I swim over to them, catch the last of Valerie’s words. “Use him.”

  “Hey, Valerie,” I say. “Nice to see you again.”

  “It’s been a long time. I’m so glad Eliza invited you.”

  “Yeah, me too,” I say and step behind Eliza. I slide my hands around her body and clasp my fingers around her stomach.

  Eliza cranes her neck and whispers, “She knows.”

  I still don’t let go of her. “It’s almost like you two really are lovers,” she says with a wink.

  Eliza breaks from my arms. “We’re not.”

  “I know that.” She splashes water at Eliza, then turns to me. “Hey, Brax, I have to go to my cousins’ wedding next month. My parents are driving me crazy about getting a guy and settling down. Maybe you could do me a solid and step into the role of loving boyfriend to get them off my back. I mean, you two will be staging a breakup at the end of the weekend and you’ll be single again.”

  My gaze slides to Eliza, who is staring at her best friend. Her eyes ar
e wide, her mouth dropped open. “Valerie, you can’t be serious?”

  “It’ll cost you,” I say.

  “Oh, and what is this costing Eliza?”

  I step back into Eliza. “We haven’t negotiated that yet.”

  “Oooh, Eliza. You should have gotten those terms settled before you started this.” She puts her finger on my chest and give a little push, but I don’t budge. “Don’t you know he’s a skilled negotiator?” She grins at Eliza. “Brax always gets what he wants.”

  My gaze moves over Valerie’s face, examining the small smirk turning up the corners of her mouth. She’s right, of course. I’m an expert negotiator and always get my way. I’m also able to read my opponents, which gives me the edge up. As I read Valerie’s body language and expressions, I can’t help but wonder what kind of game she’s playing. She doesn’t want me at that wedding any more than I want to be there. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was trying to get a rise out of her best friend, a reaction of sorts. But Valerie and Eliza go way back and she of all people should hate me as much as Eliza. Should want me as far away as possible—from both of them.

  A splash sounds and Jason surfaces close to us. I move close to Eliza, and she brushes a wet strand of hair from her face as Jason zeroes in on her.

  “Brax, come on out and have a drink with me,” Richard says, from the outdoor bar area.

  My fingers curl under the water when Jason says something stupid to Eliza and she laughs in return. Fuck, I hate that guy. And why the hell is she so nervous around him? I’ve never seen this side of her before. She’s a confident woman with a beautiful brain and body, a girl who can hold her own in an organization filled with men. She must really fucking like him if she’s acting all weird and out of sorts. Wait, has she never been intimate with a guy before—is she completely inexperienced when it comes to dating? Has she never been touched? The vision of another man putting his hands on my sweet Eliza sends rage through me.

  My Eliza.

  Jesus, get it the fuck together, all ready.

  “Coming?” I ask Eliza.

  “I…” she begins, but Valerie waves me away.

  “Why don’t you go ahead. Eliza is in good hands here,” she says with a grin.

  And therein lies the problem, because the only hands I want on Eliza are mine.

  4

  Eliza

  “Night,” I say to Valerie and the others as they all head down the hall to their respective rooms. I follow Brax inside our bedroom, close the door behind me and press my back to it, all the while trying to keep my eyes off his rock-hard body as he confidently saunters to the bed like he owns the place.

  Put a shirt on already.

  He reaches into his duffle bag and pulls out a dry shirt. I stare at his beautiful hard body, mesmerized as he shrugs into the soft cotton, then, lacking any sort of modesty, reaches for the band on his board shorts.

  “What are you doing?” I ask quickly, my voice practically bordering on hysteria.

  He pauses, and casts a quick glance my way. “Changing. What does it look like?”

  What the hell? I spin around and face the door to give him a measure of privacy. Truthfully, he seems pissed off about something, but I have no idea why or what happened to put him in a shitty mood.

  “Couldn’t you have at least waited until I wasn’t looking?” I shoot back.

  “Hey, I’m your boyfriend.” He scoffs, an annoyed little sound, and this time I’m certain he’s upset about something. “At some point we should see each other naked, don’t you think?” he says.

  “No, I don’t.”

  The rustle of his clothes reaches my ears as he dresses, and I try not to visualize him naked, those big hands of his on my body as we roll around on the bed.

  What the hell, Eliza?

  “I’m decent,” he says, and I turn back around to find him digging in his bag again. His jaw is clenched tight, the muscles rippling as he tosses half the contents on the bed in search of God knows what.

  “Is everything okay? Did I do something to piss you off?”

  He takes a huge breath, lets it out slowly, then pinches the bridge of his nose and his taut body relaxes slightly. “No, it’s not you.”

  “Then who. Did my boss say something to upset you?”

  Deep line cut into his forehead as he frowns. “No…I’m just…I’m just tired is all.”

  He digs back in his bag again, and I take that moment to look him over, let my gaze rake over his shirt and jeans. “Is that what you’re wearing to bed?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  I fold my arms, the air conditioning chilling my body despite the bathing suit cover-up I’m wearing. “Jeans don’t seem like they’d be very comfortable to sleep in.”

  He arches a brow, the corners of his mouth turning up in that familiar cocky grin, and while I always hated him teasing me, I prefer this mood to his last. “I can take them off if you want.”

  “Very funny.”

  “I was being totally serious,” he says, the teasing edge gone from his voice. He gives a shoulder roll. “I just thought you’d be more comfortable being in this bedroom with me if I were fully dressed.”

  My insides soften. Sometimes he can be so damn sweet and thoughtful it makes me forget why I don’t like him. Wait, this is Brax, the guy who tortured me relentlessly and deserves to be paid back.

  “You’re right. Good call,” I say.

  He turns his back to me, showcasing a tight ass in a pair of low riding jeans. Jesus. I link my fingers together as they itch to sculpt his perfect body. Lord, when I came out of the bathroom earlier tonight, and saw him sitting on the bed in nothing but his board shorts, I nearly swallowed my tongue. When we were teens, I’d seen him shirtless of course. But holy hell, over the years his muscles had lengthened and thickened, filled out in all the right places.

  He pulls a toothbrush and tube of paste from his bag, finally finding what he was looking for, then stuffs all the clothes back inside. He turns my way and sets his bag on the nearby chair. I let my gaze drop, sliding from a well-defined six pack to take in the very impressive bulge behind his zipper.

  Cripes, stop looking at his crotch already.

  “Everything okay, Eliza?” he asks, and my gaze jerks back up to his. Dammit, I hope he doesn’t think I was checking him out and get the wrong idea…or the right idea.

  Good God.

  “Ah…just tired, too. But I’m going to jump in the shower, rinse the chlorine off,” I say quickly, a desperate ploy to get away from him.

  “Okay.”

  I hurry to the bathroom, turn on the spray and lean against the edge of the sink.

  What are you doing, Eliza?

  I should not be checking out my brother’s best friend when he’s here to help me get another guy—no matter how hot he is. I take two deep breaths to pull myself together, then climb into the hot spray. As I grab the soap and lather, I force my thoughts to Jason. I pinch my eyes shut and berate myself for the stupid, insipid way I acted in front of him when he joined us in the pool and focused those blue eyes of his on solely me, like he was finally seeing a different side to the girl he’d always overlooked.

  I never thought my plan would have worked so fast. It’s great that it did, but who would have thought that when I finally got his attention I’d come across as a babbling idiot, laughing at every little thing he said. I don’t have a lot of experience with guys, but I have had couple of dates in the past. I should know how to make conversation for God’s sake, and not act like a silly schoolgirl with a crush on the quarterback.

  Dammit, I need to come across as more put together, more seasoned with the opposite sex. Speaking of sex. Other than that one messy time back in my freshman year, I’m pretty inexperienced in that area, too.

  I groan out loud as the water spills over my nipples. That horrible night back in my first year of college was one I’m not in a hurry to repeat. Just then, another thought hits like a punch to the gut. What if I ended up i
n bed with Jason? Would I come across as suave and experienced, or will I turn into that same inexperienced girl who has no idea what she’s really doing. I seriously don’t want to make a fool of myself.

  Maybe I should take Valerie’s advice, and get a little hands on experience with Brax.

  As that last thought bounces around in my head, I finish washing, quickly shampoo and rinse my hair, then turn off the spray. I slide the glass door open and listen for signs of Braxton in the other room. I grab a big fluffy towel from the shelf and wrap it around me. Shoot, in my hurry to get away from Brax, I forgot to bring my pajamas. I walk to the door, and steam escapes to the bedroom as I inch it open to find Brax standing in front of the TV with a remote control in his hand. Since he went all alpha on me and demanded he carry my bag, he’d already seen the contents—including my lacy nightie—so I’d rather him root through it and bring me my pajamas then walk out there in a towel and give him the wrong idea…or the right idea.

  Oh, God.

  “Brax,” I say over the hum of the soccer game on TV.

  He lowers the volume. “Yeah?”

  “Can you bring me my pajamas?” I point to my overnight bag. “I forgot to bring them in with me.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  I stand there as the hiss of the zipper fills the silence. A second later, he pushes my clothes into my hand. “Thanks,” I say and shut the door, locking it behind me. But the second I do, I realize he’d given me my sexy black lace nightie. Son. Of. A Bitch.

  Wait!

  Why would he do that?

  Oh, because this is Brax being Brax. He’s messing with me. Playing with me. Being that jerk from my childhood. Heck, maybe I should put it on, seduce him like Valerie suggested and then kick him to the floor once I’ve gotten his attention. But what if he doesn’t take the bait?

  What if he does?

  I hold the sexy lace in my hand for a moment longer as my brain runs on hyperdrive. He gave this to me on purpose, but I bet in a million years he doesn’t expect me to put it on and prance around out there in front of him. All the more reason for me to do it.