Chapter 1
JASON
Outside a storm is raging in the city of New York. I’m not outside, though. I’m inside of the prestigious Tribeca Rooftop at a charity event for the Humane Society.
I love dogs. So when I was asked to attend, I immediately Rsvp’d with a, yes. Dogs and I see eye to eye on many things.
I like the way they live their lives. Doing what they want, when they want, and with however many they want. I’m not a man who believes in monogamy. Never have, never will.
My invention is what made me rich enough to be asked to this event. I invented this little app to help people who like to keep more than one fish on the line at a time.
A sweet little system that makes sure you don’t run into girlfriend or boyfriend number two or three and so forth and so on when you’re out with someone else. My app, the PH or Polyamory Handler, is for those who have more than one love interest at a time. But they don’t want their various love interests to know that.
Those types of things never go over well, no matter how hard anyone tries to go the honest route. Believe me, I’ve tried that. So much blood, so many tears, and so much destruction!
Males nor females take finding out they’re only one of several or in my case, many, who are the love interest of any one person. It’s a shame, really. Dogs don’t seem to mind, though.
I’ve been called a dog or a wolf on occasion. Okay, about two hundred or so occasions. It hurt the first hundred times then it stopped hurting, and I accepted the fact I am what I am.
Then it occurred to me there have to be more like me. More people who need the attention of more than one person at a time. So I got to work on an application that would track the people I was involved with.
Keeping tabs on where they were, especially when I was out and about with another love interest, was the main objective. One can imagine how uncomfortable it is when you’re out, having a nice evening with a special someone and another special someone happens upon the scene. It can get really messy!
With the tap of a finger, people can bring up my app and for the low, low price of only one hundred and fifty dollars a month, you can have this technology to track your partners.
Now this is not merely a tracking device. No, no!
This app stores the person’s complete name, including any pet names or specific terms of endearment you use for that particular person. It can be a major faux pas to forget that one girl loves to be called, baby and another hates it. Thus the need for the cue cards, as I tagged them, to keep the names straight.
Of course, there’s a place to put in their family and friends so you can keep track of all their interests. You make a neat little file on each person you enjoy spending time with. There’s a counter to keep track of the number of dates and where you went as well as the times and dates you’ve been intimate.
And there’s no limit on how many you can track at any given time. So that makes it a limitless resource for anyone who likes to dabble in the love market. I love to dabble.
Women of every type are my type!
Even now, as I stand in front of an enormous window, looking out at the rainy New York skyline, my eyes are catching women out of the corners of them. If one grabs my attention, then I’ll hone in on her.
Most of the time, the women come to me first. I rarely have to go up to one. Women flock to me for some reason. And I weed out a few of them but mostly I give anyone a chance.
If I decide to make a woman a member of the Jason Brennan Pack, I’ll ask for her cell phone and tap in my phone number but also do a quick download of my app to her phone which goes in under a ghost mode so she’s completely unaware that I can now track her.
It’s genius, I know!
I’ve been told my invention is an invasion of privacy. To those critics, I give the bird. Do you want to know about invasion of privacy?
Have one girlfriend and let her catch you with another. Your shit gets all gone through. House, phone, car, your body. It’s a real invasion of privacy then.
So my motto is to keep things straight. Life is so much better when you’re organized.
Someone taps a glass, trying to capture our attention. I turn away from the window and look toward the front of the large room they’ve gathered us in.
A blonde woman in a red dress is the one who wants our attention. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I’d like to invite you all to make a purchase of the book we published last month. It has pictures of many different strays from all over the United States and their individual success stories and how the Humane Society made that happen for them.”
A few people begin to line up to make the purchase and I find myself moving forward to buy one of those books too. I do like a good dog success story after all.
I can’t have a dog myself. I’m always here, there, and yonder. I try not to stay in one place too long. It’s much too easy to get caught if you do.
That’s the other thing my app has. Little suggestions and hints to let the purchaser do the smartest things when playing the field. Tips like, don’t go to the same restaurant all the time. Someone is bound to tell on you if you do.
Little helpful things like that go a long way to help newbies to the game of juggling love intersts do better than if they were left to their own devices. And I am always ready to help my fellow man or woman for that matter.
I’m not a hypocrite. Women are players of the game of love too. And far be it from me to deny them access to my plethora of knowledge.
The smell of a fruity perfume wafts passed my nose as a woman comes up to get in line behind me. Her soft voice comes from very close to my ear, “Hi, you’re that billionaire I read about, aren’t you?”
I turn around and find a tall, thin, redhead, batting her fake eyelashes at me. “You haven’t read about me, I assure you.”
Her brows furrow. “So you aren’t rich?”
“I didn’t say that. I just said you haven’t read about me. How I made my billions is not public knowledge and never will be,” I say then take a sip of my Champagne.
“And why is that,” she asks as she reaches out and takes my flute of Champagne from me and takes a sip herself, leaving her red lipstick imprint on the crystal.
She hands it back to me, making sure her fingers graze my hand. I give her my million-dollar smile as I can see she’d like to become a member of the Jason Brennan pack but I already have a red head in New York and she’s more well-rounded than this skinny trick.
“That’s because my invention is top secret.” I place the half-full glass on a table near me.
She notices I’ve ditched my drink as her eyes are glued to it. “Top secret, like you sold it to the FBI or the CIA?”
“Top secret, as in I’m not telling you.” I turn back around, ignoring the woman.
“What an ass,” I hear her tell the woman behind her.
I think she’s an ass. It’s obvious she’s here to try to find a rich man for herself. Nothing more than that. She isn’t here for her love of animals. She’s here to snag a healthy wallet.
I hate gold diggers!
When I was twenty-seven, I came up with my app and by the next year, I was well on my way to making my first billion. A year after that, when I turned twenty-nine, I was knee-deep in money and very well established.
Last month, I turned thirty and had a nice dinner with one of my girls then a late night drink with another and I woke up the next morning with yet a different woman and we had crazy morning sex for three hours.
It was a great birthday!
My mother called me on my birthday and asked me when I was going to find a nice girl and settle down and give her some grandkids. I told her, never.
Settling down is for people who quit playing the game. I’m no quitter!
There are those people who think the person with the most toys, in the end, is the winner. I’m the guy who thinks the one with the most notches on their bedpost is the real winner.
But in the
game, one can’t hurt too many people or they lose. It’s a delicate sport I play. Emotions and feelings are involved. A crying woman actually hurts my heart.
I hate it!
So, it’s never my intention to hurt anyone. Not ever. Hence the need for the application I created.
It stops others from being hurt but you still get to live life the way you want to. I did write up a code of ethics that a purchaser must read before I allow them to make the purchase.
Rule number one. You must go and get a complete physical and have blood work done to be absolutely sure you are disease free. This is essential.
And there’s a reminder on the app to do this once a year. So you never forget. Health is not a thing to mess around with.
Also, I advise females to use two types of birth control. One which is taken in some form but also condoms. I advise all to use condoms every single time.
When choosing this lifestyle, it’s not fair to bring some poor innocent kid into the mix. Not only is it bad for the kid, it messes up your game too.
If you fuck up and don’t follow the rules and get some chick pregnant or you’re a chick and you find yourself pregnant, I strongly advise that person to end their gaming days.
Stop the monthly subscription to my app and buy some wedding rings and do the right thing. It’s only my advice, but I put it in all caps so they’d see I really mean it.
Lightning strikes outside and the lights go dim for a moment as the white light zig-zags passed the window. I can’t see for a moment with the flash and when my vision comes back, I see the line has moved and I’m still standing in the same place.
The redhead taps my shoulder. “Care to move up, Stud? Or should we pass you?”
“Sorry, my mind was elsewhere.” I move up and grab what looks like a Tom Collins off the tray of a passing waiter.
My head’s been kind of cloudy here lately. Turning thirty may not sound like a big deal when you say it. But physically, it makes a difference.
I’m not saying I feel like an old man or anything like that. I just have a weird urgency. For what, I don’t know.
Maybe my crazy mother has put a curse on me to find a woman and settle down. I shudder with the thought.
A wife, kids, a few pets. Yuk!
That life is for the yuppies and nerds of the world. Not me!
Not the man who invented the perfect thing to keep track of as many women as you want. I think I have fifty now. Worldwide, of course!
In New York, I only have three. The majority of my women are from the southern states. I’m a sucker for southern girls.
Probably because of where I grew up. A little town in Texas was my home. It was much too small to get away with my antics. My parents still live there, though. It’s been years since I visited. I should make some time to do that.
The person in front of me steps out of the way and I see a young woman sitting at one side of the table. She’s signing the inside of the book for the lady in front of me.
“Who should I make this too?” she asks.
I know that voice!
That sweet, southern voice from my younger days. “Brittany Caldwell?
Chapter 2
BRITTANY
A familiar voice fills my ears as I sign the inside cover of the book I made an award-winning cover for. The man’s voice does something to my body not many can do.
Heat rushes through me and my insides vibrate as a dampness invades my nether regions. I slowly raise my head to look at the man who’s called out my name.
“Jason Brennan.”
His entire face goes into a giant smile. “Brittany, it is you!”
I try to mask any enthusiasm I have as this man is the first man I ever let in my pants. And boy did he do a number on my heart. “Yep.”
I go back to signing the book in front of me and find myself trying to come up with any reason in the world to leave the table right this minute.
I close the book and look up at the young woman who bought it. “Thank you. I hope you have a nice evening.” I look at the lady next to me who’s selling the books. “I’m about to puke. I have to go.”
Standing up very quickly, I walk away from the little table and find the sound of footsteps coming up behind me quickly. “Britt.” His hand touches my elbow.
Fuck!
One touch from the jerk and my panties go wet. I hate how he can do this to me!
“What, Jason?” I turn around and look right into those damn enticing dark blue eyes. As dark as the Atlantic Ocean, they are and just as hard to stop looking into.
“What?” he asks and a sadness creeps into those gorgeous eyes. The heavy, long lashes touch his high cheekbones as he looks down. “You’re still mad at me? After all this time?”
A deep, cleansing breath helps me to pull in my prickles. “Jason, I know it’s been a long time. I know I shouldn’t hate your ass anymore. I know these things. We were kids. You didn’t know any better. I’m sorry.”
He raises his head and says the words I’ve wanted to hear since the night I left our tiny hometown to go off to college after finding him making out with a girl who lived three houses down from me. “I’m sorry, Britt.”
My head feels heavy and numb with his apology. I was nineteen when I caught him cheating on me for the umpteenth time in our stormy three year, on again off again, relationship. That was six years ago, and you’d think the sting would’ve dissipated.
It hasn’t, though.
“While nice to finally hear you say that. It’s not enough.” I turn and walk away from him.
I’m thankful he doesn’t follow me and I disappear into the bathroom. My heart is thumping hard and my head is spinning and I want to leave.
But I can’t. At least I don’t think I can. I’m supposed to sign the damn books. But I so don’t want to go back out there.
A waitress comes into the bathroom and looks around like she’s looking for someone then she comes up to me. “Are you, Brittany Caldwell?”
I nod and put on some lipstick I pulled out of my little clutch purse.
She makes a nervous smile. “A very handsome man asked me to see if you’re okay in here. He says he’s worried about you.”
“Let me guess. He’s a tall man with meticulously styled, short, dark hair. His muscles have muscles and he’s dressed to the nines. That man, right?” I look at her through the mirror.
“Yes, that’s him. He’s waiting for you just outside the door.”
“Fantastic! And we happen to be so high up there’s no escape through a bathroom window. Just my luck!” I put my lipstick back into my clutch and walk passed the waitress then spin around and ask, “He didn’t hit on you, did he?”
She shakes her head. “No, of course not!”
With a smirk, I say, “You’re the first woman he hasn’t hit on. But the night’s young. I’m sure you’ll get to experience a dose of his unending charm and charisma.”
I push the door open and walk out as if I have something very important to get to. I see Jason in my peripheral vision and hurry. He catches my upper arm and I’m dragged to a corner.
“This isn’t how you were brought up to act, young lady. When you see someone from your hometown you’re supposed to be cordial!” His hands move over my shoulders and down my arms.
“Stop,” I whisper. “Please.”
“No,” he says with his deep, sexy, southern drawl. “Baby, you and I should be catching up. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. Since I’ve touched you. Since I’ve held you.”
I glare at him. “Bet it hasn’t been a while since you’ve done that to somebody, though. What makes me so special?”
His lips quirk up into a crooked smile. “Everything makes you special, Britt.” The way his hand moves through my hair makes me stop breathing. “Your dark waves. Your deep green eyes. Your ruby red lips. Your big juicy breasts.”
“Don’t,” I warn him. “I happen to know you like tits in all sizes and shapes. Mine aren’t so special
. Not to you, anyway.”
“You must’ve really cared about me to still be angry after all these years. How many has it been? Three, four?”
“Six,” I say with a growl. “Six damn years and still you can make an anger rise up in me like no other man can, Jason Brennan.”
“Maybe because you still love me.” He bats those long lush lashes as he licks his lips. “I still love you, Pumpkin-doodle. I always have.”
“Stop that!” I try to push him back so I can get away from his way too good smelling body.
He always did smell great. Clean with only a hint of a musky cologne. Instead of getting away from me, he moves in even closer, pinning me between him and the wall. “Baby, you and I both know you’re going to give into me. You always have and you always will. So why not stop the antics and we can get the hell out of here and out of these clothes and on to better things?”
“You are delusional.” I rest my hand on his broad chest and try hard not to love the way it feels underneath my palm.
I think he’s gotten even more muscles since the last time I saw him.
His hand moves over mine and he moves my hand over his chest. “I work out now. You should see my pecs, there monstrous. My abs are like six hills that lead to the promised land, Pumpkin. And your tits are bigger than they were when you were nineteen. Your ass is more round and my mouth is watering to take every bit of you into it.”
My legs are shaking and I hate myself right now. “Why?”
That’s all I can say. I have boat loads I’d like to ask. Things I’ve always wanted to know. But all I can say is that one stupid word.
“Because you were my only virgin, Britt. In my mind, you are mine and only mine. You know, kind of biblically, you belong to me.” His lips brush my cheek. “So come on, Baby, let your man have a taste of what you’ve become.”
“My man?” I laugh. “You belong to no one, Jason.”
My heart stops as he leans in even closer. His mouth moves over my neck. “There is a large piece of me that belongs only to you.” He takes my hand and pulls it to move over his erection.
His actions piss me off. “That is the one thing you will share with any who want it. Now if you’d have run my hand over your heart… Wait, you’d have to have one of those to do that.”
TORN: A Billionaire Romance Series (Contemporary Romance Novel) Page 51