Billionaires and Bad Boys: The Complete 7-Book Box Set

by Nikki Chase

  “You did great,” he whispers as he leans in, making the hairs on my sensitive neck stand on end. “Told you.”

  Cole grabs the mic, brushing my fingers in the process. I stop myself from gasping from the contact and quickly leave the stage instead.

  I sit in the audience and watch as Cole patiently and eloquently answers random questions, some of which aren't even related to the topic at hand. My chest swells with pride at how confident he is, how charismatic. And it suddenly dawns on me.

  I need to get out of here.

  Cole

  As my hand hangs in the air, I draw some oxygen into my constricted lungs and let out a big exhale. I knock on the door of Emily’s hotel room for the second time today.

  I didn’t want to bother her if she didn’t want to speak with me, so I waited at the conference hall for her to come back until the exhibitors started shutting down their booths. I got a couple new business contacts from it, but I would’ve preferred having her company instead.

  I went back to my room at the end of the night, fully intending to wait until tomorrow to see her, but I can’t stand it anymore. So here I am.

  The door swings open and, to my relief, there she is. She doesn’t look very friendly, and I don’t blame her after the way I acted last night. I shoot her an apologetic grin.

  It was my fault. I got carried away, and then I caught myself but it was already too late. I fucked up, and she’s pissed off. That much I understand.

  What I don’t understand, though, is just how much that bothers me. I’ve pissed off a lot of women. A lot. I’ve always been able to dust myself off in a matter of minutes. Last night, though, I tossed and turned, my mind tortured by the thoughts of me having hurt Emily again in some way. I can’t stand it.

  Miserable and sleep-deprived, I decided this morning to get her forgiveness, no matter what.

  I’ve only just started sleeping again. I can’t let myself slide back to the way I was. No way. If there’s even a tiny crack, guilt would pour in like water and fuck everything up. It would destroy everything I’ve worked so hard for.

  “Can I help you?” Emily plasters the sweetest fake smile on her face. Still, her lips look inviting enough to devour, reminding me of how close I had gotten last night to tasting those luscious lips. She has let her hair down, probably to lay on the bed, judging from the many stray strands sticking out of her head in all directions, glowing as they catch the warm light from the ceiling.

  “I’ve been looking for you all over. Can you let me in?”

  “I can. But why should I?” She raises one eyebrow, challenging me.

  Ouch. I guess I deserve that. Luckily, I have the perfect excuse.

  “I got you a replacement phone. I need to be able to reach you.” I step closer and place my hand on the door, gently pushing it. “I’ll show you how to set it up. It’s an old phone. Takes a few tricks to make it work.”

  “Okay.” She lets go of the door, turns around, and walks inside. I follow her and close the door behind me.

  As I enter the hotel room, I notice she hasn’t changed her clothes, but she has untucked her blouse and her shoes are lying on the floor.

  She’s barefoot with her clothes disheveled.

  Suddenly, I become hyper aware of my having entered her private space. This room, it smells like her, like wildflowers and citrus.

  She plops down on the chair by the desk, and I take a seat on the bed, mirroring the positions where we sat last night. This room and mine are pretty much identical. I can tell she’s also thinking about last night by the way she’s glaring at me.

  “When you told me you lost your phone, I realized I had a spare one in my room. It’s an old phone, but it should work fine to tide you over.” I hold up the phone in my hand.

  “So this is what they mean when they call you a micro-manager, huh?” She asks, taking the phone and inspecting it. “You like to do everything yourself, and you like people to do exactly as you tell them.”

  “Is that what they say about me? What else do they say?” I don’t really care about my reputation among my employees as long as they do good work, but Emily’s talking and I want to keep it that way.

  “That you have a temper and you fire people when you’re angry,” she says. “So how do you actually turn this thing on?”

  “You have to charge the battery first.” I give her the charging cable in my hand and gesture at the socket in the base of the lamp on the desk. “Why do they say that?”

  “They say you fired a guy last year. Someone from accounting. His wife was pregnant with their third kid and she didn’t work and it was right before Christmas. They heard you yelling and then they saw the guy walking out of the office with all his stuff in a box. The people at the office had to chip in to help with the hospital bills for the delivery of the baby,” she says. Having connected the phone to a power source, she places it on the desk, waiting for it to gather enough electricity to turn on.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake. They made me out to be the grinch over that?” I throw my hands in the air. “Ted had been embezzling money. I don’t know why he didn’t have enough money for the delivery. He stole more than enough to cover it.”

  “They say you never do interviews for junior positions yourself,” she says, tilting her head and raising one eyebrow quizzically. She looks calm, but I can tell she’s been waiting to ask this question for a while from the way her hands aimlessly press the buttons on the still-off phone.

  “Evidently I do.” I shoot her a smile, but I can immediately tell from her scowl that’s not a satisfactory answer. It’s easier to stick with something simple. I shrug and say the simplest answer I can think of, “I probably had some free time on that day. I don’t remember.”

  “You don’t remember?” She repeats, with the scowl still firmly glued on her face. She’s obviously still unhappy with my new, revised answer. “Do you know how much trouble it has caused for me?”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. I do feel guilty over some things I’ve put Emily through, but she can’t expect me to take responsibility for how other people treat her, too. Especially when I’ve only been trying to help her. “I can’t keep up with the office gossip and decide which stories are true. I don’t control information. I don’t run a dictatorship.”

  “They say you never invite anyone else to travel with you in First Class.”

  “I’m sorry for trying to be nice to you. You said you don’t travel much. I just thought it would be a nice experience for you.” I hear my voice get louder. I know I’m getting worked up and I should probably shut up, considering I came here to get Emily to forgive me for last night, not to make her even angrier at me.

  “They say you live with Steffi and I’m your mistress.” She puts the phone down on the desk and folds her arms across her chest. She glares at me.

  Fuck. Why does everything I do for her backfire?

  I run my fingers through my hair, as if I can massage my problems away. I sigh and look deep into her eyes. Maybe it’s time to change my tack. Maybe I’m handling this all wrong. Maybe it’s time to drop the act. Maybe then I’ll stop hurting her.

  “I’m sorry.” I rest my elbows on my knees as I lean closer to her. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

  “So you do live with Steffi?”

  “What? I mean I’m sorry for causing a misunderstanding,” I say.

  “So do you or do you not live with her?” She raises her voice and squeezes her hands so hard her knuckles are turning white. Why does it matter to her? Could she really be jealous this time?

  “No, Emily. I don’t live with Steffi or with anyone else. I live on my own.” I reach for her hands, trying to soothe her, but she pulls them away.

  “Don’t,” she says sternly.

  I look up into her face. The hurt written all over her face surprises me.

  “Don’t drag me into your little games, Cole,” she says, her tone flat but her voice shaky. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do. I
mean, you drove me away last night, and then this morning you showed up with gifts, and then you just showed up again with another gift? You think you can just pay your way out of trouble just because that has always worked your whole life? What is it that you want?”

  “I’m not…” I let my voice trail off and sigh. “I’m not playing any games with you, Emily.”

  “Right. I bet you say that to all the other girls too.”

  “I’m not going to deny that I have a reputation, but that’s not something I say to any other girl,” I tell her honestly, meeting her glare. “The way I feel about you… It’s definitely not a game.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I don’t know, Emily. I’ll be honest with you. I don’t know. This is all so new to me.” I grab her hands in mine, begging her to believe me. She doesn’t pull away this time. “All I know is I’ve never felt this way before about anyone else, and that scared me last night. I had no idea how to deal with all these feelings. I don’t usually...feel.”

  I watch as the anger in her eyes gradually diminishes. Just like I did last night, I reach for her face. Only this time, I drop all pretense and touch her with my full intention. I want her to know how much this really means. She obviously has no idea how special she is to me. I'm making it my job now to show her.

  I pull her closer and lean my forehead against hers. She does the same and closes her eyes. And then we kiss, her lips hot and delicate. I’ve been wondering about these lips for the longest time, since the first time I saw her when she belonged to someone else, and now I can have them.

  I pull back a little just to see her face so I can remember this moment for the rest of my life. Her lips are red and wet, and her face looks flushed. She looks good like this, and knowing I’m the one who did that to her makes me want to find out what other secrets she’s hiding in that sexy body.

  A little voice in my head tells me this is wrong, but I can't deny the feelings I have for her anymore. I have to make her mine.

  Emily

  Even as I lean in closer, I wonder if this is the right thing to do.

  But after that little speech, I can’t just say “no” to him. I can’t tell him to just leave. There’s something vulnerable in his eyes that tells me he’s not being insincere with me, that he means everything he says.

  I still have so many questions, but I don’t think he has any answers. He looks so lost and confused, and something within me responds with an unbearable urge to comfort him.

  So we kiss. And it feels good. Really good.

  The man-whore is a good kisser. Wow. How surprising.

  I push my cynical thoughts aside for the moment. I rely on my wit and sarcasm to keep people from getting too close, but Cole has been nothing but kind to me. Maybe he’s not so bad. Maybe I was too quick to judge him.

  I guess it’s okay to let myself go for once. Not everything has to go perfectly as planned. If the last two years have taught me anything, it’s that life doesn’t care about my plans.

  I mean, I’m single. He’s single. We’re not hurting anybody. Even if nothing ever comes of this, it can be as simple as one of the meaningless hook-ups that college kids apparently have all the time, right?

  He puts his hand on the back of my head and teases my lips, gently coaxing me to respond. I move closer and kiss him back, inviting him. My heartbeat speeds up when he traces my lips with his tongue and nibbles on my bottom lip. God, I miss this. His lips feel so good.

  I open my mouth for him and I almost fall apart as he sweeps inside and claims my mouth with his kiss. His hard, forceful, insistent kiss.

  I haven't been kissed like this in a long time. A really long time. The more I allow myself to be carried away by these delicious sensations, the more I realize how long it has been and how much I miss this.

  I kiss him back with all the passion that has been quietly growing inside me for months. He groans into my mouth and kisses me harder, more insistently. His hand on the back of my head grips my hair.

  When he pulls away, I’m fighting to catch my breath and my hands are gripping his chiseled arms through his blue shirt. It feels great to run my hands up and down his upper arms through the fabric.

  Cole pulls me by the hand until I collapse on top of him on the bed, our limbs tangled together. The air around us is electric. Every cell in my body is pulsating. Our breaths grow frantic. When he pushes me onto my back and gets on top of me, I remember the lonely nights I spent missing the weight of a man’s body on top of me. I savor the warmth of his skin, the scent of his neck.

  He pauses to look at me, his eyes full of concern. There’s no way he can fake that. Cole really does have genuine feelings about me. He’s been honest and truthful. I suppose it’s okay to give this a go. Who knows? Maybe this will really turn into something meaningful.

  I smile, giving him permission to continue. I want his skin all over mine. I want to be enveloped by his masculine body. I want this, I tell him with my eyes. I want you.

  Cole undoes the top three buttons of my green sleeveless blouse. He maintains eye contact as he travels down my throat, trailing light kisses to my breasts. I arch my body with pleasure, offering more of me up to his mouth. He slips his hand underneath my body, unhooking my bra and caressing my bare back.

  Taking both my blouse and my bra off, Cole tosses them aside, letting them fall onto the carpeted floor. He stares at my exposed upper body, his gaze traveling from my navel up to the hardened tips of my breasts and landing on my face. Without blinking, he takes it all in. I blush under his intense scrutiny. The hunger in his eyes makes me ache between my legs.

  I remember Cole’s sexy, fuzzy trail that I saw when the plane landed in Seattle yesterday. I need to see where it leads.

  “My turn,” I say as I reach up and unbutton his business shirt. My fingers trace the lines of the muscles on his chest and abs. His body is hard, sculpted, masculine.

  He takes off his shirt. I can feel his cock pressed against my thigh, growing thick and hard in his pants. I reach my hand down and follow the little happy trail of hair on his abs down until I reach the waist of his pants. I look up into his eyes.

  Cole looks back teasingly right at me. His hand slides up my thigh, pushing the hem of my pencil skirt up. As he strokes my inner thighs and gently kisses my face, wetness drips at the juncture of my legs. I let out a small, breathy moan.

  “Tell me what you want me to do,” Cole groans into my ear, his voice low and urgent, his heavy breath hot on my neck.

  My body tightens with need. This is crazy. Before yesterday I never even spent much time with Cole. But now I feel so close to him, and not just physically. There’s some sort of magical connection between us, some kind of special chemistry pulling us together.

  As he slips his hand inside my panties, I shiver all over on the soft white sheets of the hotel bed. It’s clear Cole knows what he’s doing. His fingers dance over my wet folds, making me tremble with need. In this moment, there’s only one thing I want.

  “Fuck me,” I say, spreading my thighs a little wider, giving him free admission to my body.

  With a low growl, Cole pushes my pencil skirt until it bunches up around my waist. He yanks my panties off and pushes inside me with one finger, and then another one. I moan as he fills me up.

  I grab the waist of his dress pants and pull on his belt. I’m fumbling so much it takes a while for me to unbuckle his soft Italian leather belt and unzip his pants.

  “Soak my fingers,” Cole says. “Soak my fingers and then I’ll fuck you. I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll forget everything but my name.”

  He kicks his pants off and continues to manipulate my body with his skillful fingers. The pressure builds up and up until finally I come with a sudden gasp and a shudder. I gush all over Cole’s fingers like he wanted me to.

  I shut my eyes. I always feel so vulnerable the first time I’m with someone new. And it’s been a while, which makes me feel a little out of my depths.

  Th
e tip of Cole’s cock rubbing against me brings me back to reality. I snap my eyes open and see my boss kneeling between my legs, his fist wrapped around his thick shaft.

  “Good girl,” he says.

  He pushes inside me, stretching me around him. I wrap my arms and legs around him, pulling him closer. My fingernails drag across his back. I want to feel more of him. I rock my hips off the hotel bed to meet Cole’s thrusts. At this new angle, he enters deeper inside me, so deep I feel like I’m about to burst.

  He fucks me slowly, pulling almost all the way out and driving all the way back in. He’s driving me crazy, the way he’s balancing me right on the edge of my climax.

  “Please.” My voice comes out as a moan. I need more now. I need him to release me from this sweet torture.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and throw my head back, trying to focus on Cole’s cock sliding in and out of me, willing myself to feel more, to make myself come. Failing, I look pleadingly into Cole’s eyes.

  “Please,” I repeat.

  “Please what?” He asks as if there’s anything else I could mean. He patiently waits for an answer while he maintains his teasingly slow pace.

  “Please fuck me harder.” I lose this battle. He knows exactly how to play my body until I do what he says. But it doesn’t feel like losing.

  Cole grunts and pulls my hair. His movements take on an animalistic quality. He slams into me, making me shudder in ecstasy while I’m trapped underneath his hard body. My muscles clench around him, massaging him until he explodes inside me. He keeps grinding into me, stretching my orgasm until he finishes releasing every last drop.

  I drag as much air as I can into my lungs while Cole lies on top of me, spent. He strokes my hair, sighing in satisfaction and murmuring unintelligible words into my ears. I loosely hold on to him, enjoying the tactile feeling of his hot, sweaty skin on mine.

  “You’re mine now,” he says.