Billionaire Bad Boy: The Complete Collection

by Chase, Jenna

  “I swear to you, Mr. DeMarco,” I conclude my spiel with. “I will be the greatest husband your daughter could possibly have. I’ll work every day of my life to prove that to the both of you. I want to be with your daughter. I know she wants to be with me. We may be young, and we don’t have to get married for a while yet, but at least give us a chance. Unlike other men you may have thought of for the position,” I think of Cristiano, with his crazy family connections and self-interests, “I will be completely dedicated to your family and its preservation. I admire your legacy. I want to continue it and make it stronger.” Babies. I want to have babies with your daughter one day, and it’s scaring the piss out of me! “You’re right when you say I have no father. I want to change that. I want to be such a great son-in-law that you don’t even think of me that way.” I pause for effect. Here we go. “You’ll think of me as the son you always wanted.”

  I can play his games. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be in his position one day. Daphne and I could have some gorgeous daughters that tear up the world by storm. They’ll have all the boys coming to call, and no matter how well I think I’ve prepared them for dating, I’ll still worry for them. Just like Mr. DeMarco worries for his young daughter right now.

  He wants to know that I can provide for her. He wants to know that his family’s legacy won’t die with him. He wants to know that I will respect and take care of his feisty girl until death do us part.

  Something changes in his eyes. Gone is the stony façade he built up the moment I entered this room. I’ve touched a crucial part of his heart. His fears.

  He looks up and gazes over my head.

  “So, with your blessing, sir, I would like to be with your daughter. And your family.”

  He smiles, wanly. “Why don’t you ask her about it yourself?”

  I don’t have to ask. I’ve known she was there for at least five minutes. Standing silent but resilient. That’s my girl.

  Sure enough, I turn to see Daphne standing in front of the door, her mother a pace behind her. Her eyes are wild with confusion and fear. For me? For her? For all of us? Yeah.

  “How much did you hear?” I ask her.

  Those glassy eyes wipe the pout from her lips. Instead, they curve into a smile that matches her father’s. “Something about becoming my brother.” Her smile is cheekier.

  I snatch the little box off her father’s desk. “Before that?”

  “Hmm…”

  “Oh, I would love to see this,” DeMarco grumbles. “Prove you’re a real man, Mr. Dean. Go on. No future son of mine would be scared to do what you’re about to do.”

  He’s right. No one in this family can be scared of anything, least of all professing eternal love to a woman one’s barely known for several weeks. So here I go, standing up long enough to get down on one knee in front of Daphne. I open the box. She gasps. Her mother has another one of her infamous strokes.

  How do you pick the perfect ring for a woman whose tastes you’re still learning? I’m not gonna lie. It was impossible to the point I kept the receipt, in the hopes that the worst that would happen is an exchange for something more to her liking.

  For the time being, I chose a simple silver band encrusted with three beautiful diamonds. Daphne wouldn’t want something that could easily snag on her outfits, but she’d still want something pretty and that she could show off to the cameras, of course.

  I wouldn’t expect – or want – less. My vivacious Daphne will look stunning in whatever engagement ring I buy her.

  “Daphne DeMarco,” I say, trying not to tremble on this bended knee, “will you marry me?”

  She’s frozen. Her face, her body, even her hair refuses to move. Mrs. DeMarco covers her mouth with her hands and starts to cry. Fuck, I wanna cry too!

  Me. Logan Dean. Proposing to the woman I insulted to hell and back not even two months ago. Me. Logan Dean. Proposing to any woman at all!

  I don’t regret a single moment of it.

  Especially when her frozen lips break out into a grin and she emphatically nods her head. “Yes,” she squeaks. Then, “Yes! Holy shit, yes!”

  I leap up and hug her, my beautiful Daphne finally in my arms again. In front of her parents, even! Where are the paps now? They would eat this up.

  Our celebrations are cut short when she breaks from my hold and says, “What about Cristiano…” she looks to her father, trepidation coloring her cheeks.

  Mr. DeMarco’s demeanor remains unchanged. “I’m sorry. Who?”

  I think Daphne is going to pass out when her father gets up, rounds his desk… and smacks me right on the back.

  “As long as you two don’t give me a reason to regret this, I’ll give you my blessing.” He looked between us. “No wedding until you’re both finished with schooling.”

  Daphne’s eyebrows go up. “Both of us?”

  “I’m, uh, kinda getting a Master’s at Harvard soon.”

  “What!”

  “How wonderful!” Mrs. DeMarco cries. “This is absolutely wonderful! Look how happy she is, Marcello.”

  “Yes.” Finally, a real smile. “It’s good to see you so happy, Principessa.”

  “That’s because I’ve found my Prince Charming.” Daphne wraps her arms around me and brings me down for a kiss. No tongue in front of the parents, of course. Yet I hope they can feel our passion all the same. This is real. “The best one there is,” my princess mumbles on my lips. I take her left hand and slip the dainty ring onto her daintier finger. Wow. This is happening.

  DeMarco’s chuckles quickly turn antagonistic.

  “No sex before marriage,” he growls into the space between us.

  Yeah. We’ll see about that.

  Mrs. DeMarco suggests we all have a big dinner together, but Daphne smartly says that would be better planned for tomorrow. Tonight, she and I should go out and celebrate our engagement. Alone.

  Mr. DeMarco is still growling in my direction.

  “Your daughter and her dignity are safe with me, sir,” I reassure him. Until we get back to my place, anyway. Then all bets are off.

  He probably knows how desperately I need to be inside his daughter. I’m trying not to think about it.

  “Come on,” I say, taking Daphne’s right hand. “Let’s go tell the world.”

  “I’ve got some calls to make myself,” DeMarco says with a sigh. “You two have fun, but not too much fun. Be back here by tomorrow night for dinner. There are people you need to meet… son.”

  Wow.

  Wow.

  Daphne leads me out of the office and down the empty hallway toward the front door of the grand DeMarco mansion. Her mirth is palpable, and I drench myself in it. Even when she turns around, making sure the coast is clear before she whispers into my ear, I’m losing it in serendipity.

  “You’re taking me back to my place and fucking me until I can’t scream anymore.”

  Um.

  Hello, erection.

  “Capiche?” She tugs on my hand. As we emerge from the front door and head toward the Alfa Romero, we come upon quite the… scene.

  Paps. Six of them, leaping over the fence and making a mad dash while security chases after them. Petulant bugs, aren’t they? Daphne and I hurry to the car so we can make a break for it. Already the paps are firing shots of us in front of her family’s house.

  Daphne hesitates outside the passenger side door. Before I know it, she’s flipping off the paps with a giant smile on her face. “Eat your hearts out, fuckers!” she cries.

  That’s when I realize it’s not her middle finger in the air. It’s her engagement ring she’s showing off. Guess she likes it, huh?

  Chapter 3

  DAPHNE

  This is the highest I’ve ever been on life. This morning I woke up a confused, nearly broken woman who had no idea what to do with her life. Now I’m not only engaged… but with the man I’ve always wanted to be with.

  Yes, even when I hated Logan’s guts, I wanted to be with him. I’m such a cliché. We’re
such a cliché. I can’t give a rat’s ass. The top is down on this classic car and I’m finally alive!

  “I love you!” I scream at the top of my lungs as Logan guns the gas back into downtown.

  “I’m quite fond of you as well, Miss DeMarco!”

  I laugh. My reflection in the mirror is one of a happy woman in love. I’m going to remember this day for the rest of my life, aren’t I?

  God willing. There’s still a lot more to come.

  ***

  We arrive at my apartment as the police are chasing off a swarm of paps. The police ain’t shit for this stuff when they’re camped out on public property, but I guess the paps were trying to trespass in my building and the management finally got sick of it. Good. They’ll get a few pics of Logan and me going inside the lobby, but we’re out in the open now. Later tonight my engagement ring will be plastered all over The Daily Social blog for every other heiress to salivate over.

  Logan and I are truly alone for the first time when the elevator doors close. Not only that, but we’re off to do something that I’ve been wanting to do for a very long time. Are those nerves starting to fill me? Hopefully they won’t be the only things filling me soon enough. Ahem.

  My boyfriend – fiancé? – comes closer, hesitant. Finally, he pulls me closer to him, our bodies crushing together in a tight embrace. Oh, boy. He’s a tad hard in these tight jeans.

  “Fuck, Daph,” he hoarsely whispers into my ear. For the first time ever, I love that nickname. He’s going to be the only one in the world who can call me that. “I’ve been waiting for this for too long.”

  “It hasn’t been that long since that night in the hotel. Are you really that impatient?” I hope my smile is cheeky enough for him.

  It is. His hands find my ass – and lift me up, making me shriek in delightful surprise. “When it comes to you? Definitely.”

  I lead him to my apartment near the elevator. Not until I open my door – which I have to try three times because my hands are shaking – do I realize this will be his first time seeing where I live, what I have made my own abode. It’s… a bit feminine. Nothing frilly or lacy, since I’m not my mother, but definitely nothing like his bachelor pad.

  “Nice,” he says, stepping into my living room and taking in the furniture and trimmings. “But you’re nicer.”

  Logan wraps a gentle arm around me and nuzzles my ear. Is he holding me like I’m made out of porcelain? This really isn’t what I had in mind at all, but as we get closer to my bedroom, slowly but surely, I giggle in excitement.

  “We don’t have to do anything you won’t want to.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I squeeze his arm. “I meant what I said back at the house. I want you to fuck me senseless, Logan.”

  He gets harder against my stomach. Yes. That’s what I want. Now give it to me, Logan. My legs are shaking not out of nerves, but because I crave you that badly. “You’re demanding for my girlfriend.”

  “You don’t get it.” I tell him about the fantasies I’ve had ever since we met. How I want to feel his brute strength against my body. The way I imagine he feels inside of me, hard and fast. This is the man who marched into my father’s office and did something no other man could do: make my father see reason. That’s the kind of man I want fucking me up in bed! “I know you can give it to me like that, Logan.”

  “Our first time, though?”

  “Why? You wanna wait? You think I can’t handle it?”

  He rubs the side of his head. “I’m used to doing that with girls I barely know. You’re different. I’m kind of in love with you.”

  “Good. That means you really want to give it to me.” I pull up my mini-skirt, showing him my black thong. Yeah. A thong. You’d think I knew what was going on today! “Don’t tell me you don’t want to take this pussy in ways only you can.”

  His eyes glaze over in erotic thought. My hand grazes his hardness. It’s enough to make him snatch both of my arms.

  Logan leans down and whispers in my ear, hot and demanding.

  “I’m going to want to do it every which way with you. Thought you might want to go slow the first time.”

  “You’re not a man who likes to go slow, Logan.”

  “How do you know? Besides, you’re a special case.”

  “Not that special. Come on, I’m giving you permission to be wild and rough. You telling me you don’t want to…”

  He silences me with a long, determined kiss. It demands more than love from me. It demands that I be a good girl who listens to everything he has to say. I don’t doubt he’ll test me a bit first, though, just to make sure I meant what I said. Logan’s not the kind of guy to do whatever he wants without me saying yes.

  I whisper his name against his lips as he walks me the rest of the way into my bedroom and to my neatly made bed. It won’t be very neat for long. I want to see scratch marks in my headboard by the time we’re done.

  Logan sits on the edge of the bed with me standing between his legs. His hands rest on my hips, one curling around the left side of my ass. Oh, fuck yes, here we go.

  He slowly slides my skirt down my legs and lets it pool at my feet. I kick it away, ass moving in his palm. Logan squeezes it. Hard. I close my eyes and gasp.

  “You’re perfection from top to bottom, aren’t you?”

  His hands tug on my shirt to bring it over my head. I titter like a shy girl. “Not fair,” I say. “I need to see some of you too. You know how this works.”

  Ten seconds later, his shirt is on the floor next to my skirt. My hands go to his chest, feeling it for the first time in what feels forever. Now he feels even better. Because today? He will be mine.

  And I’ll be his.

  Now he rips off my shirt until I’m standing in nothing but a thong and bra. He only has eyes for my face – and my breasts. No wonder. I didn’t let him see them last time. Logan lifts himself high enough to kiss my collarbone, light and fleeting, driving me insane with want for more. He slides a bra strap off my shoulder. I moan when his lips hit the sensitive area of my décolletage.

  “Lower,” I beg, raspy.

  His lips move slowly down my bra cup. “Here?” he teases, licking my sensitive spot.

  “Lower!” I tremble with the expectation of his lips on my breasts.

  He moves my bra out of the way, unsnapping it in a split second and throwing it on the floor. He looks right into my eyes as his lips find my hard nipple, taking it in his mouth.

  Logan growls. Me? I come undone.

  I moan again, pressing my body against him, straddling his leg. His cock stirs against my leg. Holy shit. I knew it was big when I sucked it the other night, but I might actually struggle to take it inside me.

  The anticipation is killing me!

  “Please.” This time my begging is light and airy. I’m done. I’m his. My desperation is mounting me before he has the chance to. “Give it to me the way I need, Logan. You said so yourself. You’re the only one who can fuck the priss out of me. Why do you think I insisted on coming back to my apartment instead of going to yours?”

  The hungry look in his eye… he understands.

  Logan smacks my ass until I’m off his leg and stumbling in front of him. He touches my hip in a way that makes me get down on my knees. I’m still between his legs.

  “I’ve got a feeling no man can fuck that priss out of you, Daph,” he says, pulling down his zipper. “But I’m going to try. Starting with your mouth.”

  Here we go.

  Chapter 4

  LOGAN

  I must be dreaming, because there’s no way Daphne DeMarco is asking me to give it to her rough moments after she’s accepted my haphazard marriage proposal.

  We barely know each other, really. We haven’t even gone all the way yet. I know what the depths of her pussy feels like around my fingers, but around my cock? I was starting to think she would make me marry her first.

  I would have. Probably. This girl got me to do crazier shit first.

 
Don’t think I don’t know why she brought us back to her apartment. This whole apartment is Priss with a capital P. The furniture is so neat and tidy that I believe she does it instead of the maid. Her clothes are neatly hung up in her closet, the door open far enough for me to see that shit color-coded by the day of the week. This bedspread is lavender. Lavender.

  Hey, I’ve fucked in pink beds before, so this ain’t nothing. Just painting a picture here.

  Now I’ve got her begging for me to ram my cock into her. Anywhere. She’d probably be down with me fucking her ass to tease her. Having her get on her knees to test these waters she’s begging to swim? If she can handle me shoving my cock down her throat, then she can handle the other stuff, maybe.

  Look, I’ve been plenty rough with other girls. Lots of girls. It’s amazing how much women love it when you go wild animal on them. Tell them what to do. Toss them around like your little sex doll and fuck all their holes, one-by-one, sometimes more than once. I’ve had girls beg me to come on and in them everywhere. Even the ones I used a condom with. They think I’m some sex god who can pull out, rip off the condom, and cover her before I blow.

  Maybe I am a sex god. We’ll see.

  Fuck, I’m hard! I knew I was going to get in her the moment we finally entered her apartment, but I was hard before that too. Now I’m dying to be freed from these pants and inside her. I should do it. I should throw Daphne on her bed and ravage her like she’s asked for. Yet this is our first time together doing this. I should make it somewhat special, yeah?

  No surprise that I’m straining like a beast against my boxers. I pull down my jeans far enough for my cock to come right out and beg her to give it some attention.

  She does. I don’t have to tell her to suck my cock. Daphne just does it, starting with her lips on my tip and then sucking on me until I groan. “Shit, Daph,” I mutter. “Put it in your mouth. Now.”