Billionaire Bad Boy: The Complete Collection

by Chase, Jenna

  The lowest I sink is buying a local fashion magazine so I can check out pictures of her. The only ones I find are some candid shots of her having lunch with Ashleigh, wearing a vintage floral dress and those big cat-eye sunglasses. She looks so perfect, even when she’s not posing. For once her lips aren’t pouty. They’re smiling widely.

  Daphne probably hates this photo, because it shows a more realistic side of her. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Daphne, it’s that she wants to be nothing but picture perfect. She’s building a brand with her image. What she’s doing with it, I have no idea. I don’t pretend to understand the scrutiny girls like her are under.

  One night, while I’m staring at these photos like a stalker, I receive a phone call from my mother.

  My mother and I have an okay relationship. We don’t talk much since we’re both busy people, but she’s never been anything but nice and cordial to me. Even so, she doesn’t call me unless she has a reason.

  “You’ve got your invitation to my film premier, right? You never confirmed with my agent.” Of course that’s why my mother is calling. “It’s important that you go! You missed the last one, and the trash the tabloids came up with… saying that we’re estranged… don’t do that to me again.”

  “What? You’re a supporting character. Who cares?” I lean back in bed with the magazine smacked against my face.

  “Who… Logan! It’s a series of vignettes with an ensemble cast! Everyone’s a main character! Come on. You have to see me star in a movie with Richard Gere. It’s been my goal to be in a movie with him for the past ten years.”

  I sigh.

  “I know you hate that sort of thing. Do me a favor though, okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Don’t be smart with me. This is Oscar bait and I need you in New York to support me.”

  I pull the magazine off my face and stare at the candid collage of Daphne and Ashleigh. Mostly Daphne, of course. Okay, all Daphne.

  While my mother blathers, I read the caption. “Rich socialite Daphne DeMarco enjoys lunch with fellow heiress Ashleigh Lee. Ms. DeMarco is relaxing during her summer break from college, although rumor says she has a packed week in New York planned.”

  New York, huh? Daphne’s going to be there?

  My mother’s movie premier just happens to be in New York… such a fateful city.

  “I’ll be there.” I interrupt my mother, already planning how I’m going to find and approach Daphne DeMarco. Throwing that trash into my interview was a good way to get her in my apartment, but it ultimately failed at getting her in my bed – or at least naked and with her legs spread wide open so my cock could explore her waiting hole. Great, Logan. Think about these things while on the phone with your mother, why don’t you? “I got the invitation. I’ll be there. We’ll take some pics for the press…”

  “Oh, I know you’re busy,” my mother tersely says. “Don’t worry. I’m in the first vignette, so you can leave soon enough. You don’t have to stay for the whole thing.”

  “Great, yeah. I’ll be there. Love you, bye.” I hang up on her before she has the chance to reply. My brain is going five-thousand miles a second, coming up with as many ways I am going to finally seduce Daphne DeMarco. I won’t be able to function until I see how far this attraction goes.

  You hear that, Daph? You’re relaxing for now, but when I’m through with you, you’ll be a panting, writhing dirty girl unable to keep her legs closed around me. I’m not just taking you in my bed. I’m taking you everywhere.

  Prepare yourself. I’m coming to devour you.

  TEASING THE HEIRESS

  Chapter 1

  LOGAN

  The guy looking back at me in my mirror is damn fine.

  It’s been a long day, and this evening will prove to be longer, I’m sure. After flying into JFK earlier this morning, one of my mother’s drivers took me from one tailor to another. My mother insisted after seeing that picture of me in the magazine. “You will not show up to my premier looking like the shaggiest kid on the block. At least get it trimmed?” Didn’t matter I just had it cut back home. Nope. Had to go to my mother’s favorite New York salon so some guy named Felipe could fix it.

  Then it was off to pick up my tux for the evening. My mother arranged that too. Funny. A lot of things had been arranged for me even though there was no guarantee I was coming. But I have to hand it to my mother: she didn’t pick a bad tux for me at all. Valentino. Nice and Italian. Just like Daphne.

  I’m going to be in New York for a few days, but I picked the day of my mother’s movie premier to come here. As soon as today is over, I’m going into woo Daphne DeMarco mode. I received confirmation that she’s in town when I saw her picture in a daily newspaper. With any luck, she’ll stay a few more days. Plenty of time for Logan Dean to work his magic.

  My driver for the evening calls and informs me that he’s waiting downstairs. “There are some flies buzzing around,” he says. Good to know. I dab on some cologne before grabbing my wallet and heading downstairs to meet him.

  “Logan!” A light flashes right in my face the moment I step out of the apartment building. “Logan, is your mother with you? Are you excited about tonight’s premier?”

  The driver wasn’t kidding. There are some serious flies buzzing around my mother’s New York apartment. I pull down my sunglasses, even though it’s dusk. If nothing else, it’ll keep that incessant flashing out of my eyes. I do throw them a few friendly waves. It’s the least I can do.

  As soon as we’re at the premier venue, I’m greeted with more damn lights. Way more. The cameras are so bad that an assistant pounces on me the moment I step out of the car and the driver zooms off to park until I need him again.

  “This way, Mr. Dean,” the assistant says, pulling on my hand to get me to the red carpet in a timely manner. Already there are half a dozen big name stars milling about, posing for photographs and answering questions about their recent news and the movie they’re about to see. My mother is nowhere to be seen. Didn’t she want some pictures together for the press?

  “Logan! Over here! Logan Dean!” I’m recognized. The carpet is barely beneath my feet, and already I’ve got a flock of vultures trying to climb over the ropes and get in my face. Security pushes them back with some stern words. These paps are ridiculous. Does security think a few choice words are going to keep these predators at bay?

  The assistant abandons me. I see her standing only a few feet away, ready to do whatever I ask her to, but right now the focus is on me and how many dashing smiles I can shoot the cameras popping off around me. Good thing it’s something I’m a natural wonder at. The paps are content with a few poses this way, then that way, my smile never faltering and my choice words regarding my mother’s movie – the title of which I can never remember – nothing but glowing.

  Making one’s way down a red carpet is both mind numbing and a total blur. You have to shuffle your way down, giving everyone their due attention that they crave. At the same time, it goes by so quickly that it’s like you blink and miss it.

  Not today. Today, the red carpet walk is taking forever. Or at least that’s what it feels like the moment I realize who is standing in front of me in this molasses line.

  Daphne. DeMarco.

  Time stops. The clicks and yells of the paps fade from my hearing. I see lights, but all they do is illuminate her in front of me. A regal princess. Pure, untouched royalty.

  She’s wearing a dark pink gown that’s skintight on top and effortlessly flowy on the bottom. It would be perfectly respectable if it weren’t for the naughty slit showing off her toned legs. You know, the kind of legs that beg to be touched and stroked. I had felt them straddling my body not even two weeks ago. They had felt fantastic then. How great would they feel now?

  Her light brown hair spirals on top of her head in an intricate twist sprinkled with sparkling gemstones. Diamonds and rubies, it looks like. They match her diamond teardrop earrings and the ruby necklace wrapped a
round her white throat.

  Her throat is too white. You know what it needs? Some love bites from my famished lips. Now that would be a delight for the press, don’t you think?

  “Fuck,” I mutter in awe. Daphne is easily the most beautiful girl here. There are Hollywood starlets heralded as the second coming of Marilyn Monroe present, and yet it’s some heiress who is only famous for being famous that has me speechless.

  “Logan! Who has your attention, Logan? Who are you looking at?”

  Dumb fucks! Who does it look like I’m gawking at? Am I the only one who sees the stunning beauty traipsing up the red carpet? Idiots. All of you.

  For years my mother has warned me to keep my more serious relationships private. She learned the hard way that the media will chew up and spit out any rumor it can latch onto. In my case, I rarely have relationships that I consider serious enough to keep away from the press. If I’m caught necking with some hottie in Miami, it’s no skin off my back. I probably don’t even remember her name.

  This. This is different. Ever since I met her, Daphne has consumed my thoughts. Daphne DeMarco. How could I ever forget a name as beautiful as that? The girl of my dreams is standing before me. I don’t think she’s noticed me yet. Good. That means she can’t take off right in front of the cameras.

  They’re snapping a million pictures as I approach Daphne from behind. Something has tipped her off, for she slowly turns, eyes widening as she takes in my form. She doesn’t move.

  “You are radiant tonight, Daphne,” I say that low enough so no one but her can hear me. Her lips twitch into a little smile. Snap! Snap! Snap! So many cameras going off. We’re going to be the main talk of the premier. My mother will riot, and I don’t care.

  “You clean up nice.” There’s a bite to her voice. Love it. Love her blooming smile even more.

  “What are you doing here?” Does Daphne know someone in the industry? Of course she does. Who, though? There are dozens of A-list stars here tonight. She could know any of them. Or maybe it’s her father who knows them, and she’s here to represent the DeMarco Empire. She bears that responsibility well.

  She cocks her head at me. “I was invited.” What? Does she think I’m accusing her of crashing the party? Because she knew I would be here? She had to have known that I would be here. My mother’s in the damn movie! “It’s good publicity.”

  Good publicity for what? Her brand, probably. I can think of a few other things that would look great with her brand. Ahem. I mean me. “Would you like to sit with me? I’ve got a great view of the screen, being one of the headliner’s sons and all.”

  Something sparks in her eyes before quickly dulling again. An assistant is politely asking us to keep moving. So we do. We take small steps toward the end of the carpet while more guests pile up behind us. I do not touch Daphne, but I’m sure the people around us are getting quite the show while we dodge each other’s looks and pretend that there is no sizzling sexual attraction between us. I can see it in her eyes. That hunger, returning.

  “I thought our seats were assigned,” Daphne says.

  “My mother’s a movie star. I can pull a few strings.” I’ll pull every string in the world if it means Daphne sitting next to me for two and a half hours. And here I had planned to bail after my mother’s vignette was over!

  She glances at a group of giggling girls in front of us. No doubt she came with them. Will she stick to her original plan of hanging out with them all night? Or will she join me for a night at the movies… and maybe more?

  I feel like crossing my fingers behind my back. Come on, Daphne, give in to your temptations once more. After this is over, I want to take you to any hotel in the city. Your choice. I’ll treat your dress like it’s a million dollars and your body like it’s priceless. Doesn’t mean I won’t ravage the fuck out of it, but I promise I’ll put it back the way I found it.

  Daphne looks back at me. “All right.”

  All right…

  All right?

  All fucking right it is.

  Chapter 2

  DAPHNE

  Is this really happening?

  Am I losing my mind?

  Probably.

  I had promised myself that I would stay far away from Logan Dean. I had almost lost my senses – and chunks of my reputation – the last time I confronted him. To think, that was powered by anger. Now that I’m no longer angry at him? Who knows what could happen. Seeing him through my usual eyes is a lot different from seeing him through that red haze of hatred.

  Yet here he is in New York City at his mother’s film premier. Of course he’s here. I knew he would be, but I brought my arsenal of BFFs and intended on staying away from anywhere he might lurk. The red carpet is the only place we could bump into each other. Haha. Here we are!

  Now here’s Logan, offering his hand to me while my group of friends skedaddle on ahead. There’s something in his demeanor that’s making my heart thump so loudly that I’m afraid the whole world can hear it. I don’t want to admit it, but I think it’s the idea that he wants me so badly. Whether that’s true or not… I have no idea. A part of me doesn’t want to find out.

  Another part of me can’t wait to be alone with him.

  Plus, he’s scorching hot! Especially in this tux… and I can remember what his chest looks like beneath it. The rest of him? Oh, I might be game to find out…

  No, Daphne, no. Focus. Just because you accepted his invitation doesn’t mean you have to follow through. Or, if you do, it doesn’t mean you have to sleep with him!

  I take Logan’s hand and let him guide me into the theater. Damn, his hands are big and strong. I wouldn’t say that I have small hands, but they’re definitely swallowed whole by his. Yet they’re so soft. A guy who has never had to do a day of manual labor in his life, although he obviously spends a lot of time at the gym.

  What are you doing? That voice in my head won’t leave me alone. Now the whole world is going to see these pics of you two together, like you’re dating! What is Daddy going to say? What about Mom? Oh, fuck, girl, you’re in deep shit when they find out you’re out with a man who isn’t your fi…

  I stop those thoughts. No. Not going there. Happy place. Right here. Never thought my happy place would be with Logan Dean, but that’s how the world spins sometimes.

  He occasionally waves at someone he knows. I know no one now. I am so out of place. My place is in fashion shows and up-and-coming venues, not movie premiers like this one. Yet when my friend said she had extra tickets through her father the movie producer, I jumped at the chance, long before I found out what movie and who was starring in it.

  Now I’m at Camilla Dean’s movie premier, paraded around by her son. We’re in the dark theater with fewer photographers, but there are a ton of important people coming up, shaking hands, and saying hello. Clearly, Logan knows them. Enough to call some of them by name and feel confident enough to introduce me to. I don’t meet any of the big stars, but I meet the director and some of the producers. The most interesting guy is the cinematographer, a man with frizzy hair and a blue polka dot bowtie.

  We reach our box seats. There are only a few seats to a box, and right now we’re the only ones here. Occasionally this man or that woman comes in and out, but it looks like the only other people who showed up for their assigned seats are another young couple I don’t recognize. They’re sitting on the other far side. The one light shining above us dims the moment Logan and I take our seats, my hand still in his. Or at least until I struggle with the hem of my flowy skirt and need his assistance detangling it from my heel.

  His hand brushes against my ankle. How can such a thing feel so scandalous?

  The stage below is dim as well. Applause breaks out as the stars of the movie stand in a single line across the stage. They bow in unison. Up here I can’t see them well… until the projector kicks in, and suddenly Camilla Dean is smiling on the giant movie screen.

  She may be over fifty, but she’s still one of the most stunning
women in Hollywood. The press says it all the time. They also say she’s remained a natural beauty. Ha. As someone who has been deeply entrenched in the world of plastic surgery for all her life, I can tell you that Camilla has had some work done. I can also tell you the name of her doctor just from the curve of her nose. He’s one of the best in the business, so I’m not surprised the press can’t tell she’s had a nose job.

  The rest of her is pretty natural, though. She’s wearing a bright, sparkling gold dress that accentuates her tanned skin and the fluffy blond locks sprouting from her round head. She has a million dollar smile that instantly reminds me of her son’s.

  Camilla Dean is the kind of woman I want to look like when I’m her age. I may be young now, but I’m fully aware that this beauty is fleeting. My goal is to hopefully not have a total meltdown when I’m 28 and get so much work done that I no longer recognize myself in the mirror.

  Logan’s mother begins the opening speeches by thanking everyone who came out to watch her new movie. One of her costars reminds her that it’s not her movie, and the whole theater laughs, including Logan and me. We exchange fast glances. Did I mention that my hand is still in his? Well, not anymore. I politely take it out and curl both of my hands in my lap. I may be in a private balcony with Logan Dean, but I will retain some tier of ladylike qualities.

  The stars vacate the stage as the movie begins.

  It’s a series of vignettes about the different kinds of romantic love people can experience. The first one features Camilla as a woman going through a midlife crisis… and her young, college-aged daughter. They both fall in love with one of the daughter’s professors. Shenanigans ensue.

  “Did you know…” Logan’s whisper startles me, “that Stephanie May was originally supposed to play the daughter? Not kidding. The contract had been signed and everything when her scandal broke out.”