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

by Nikki Chase

  “I do,” he says, just like I’ve always imagined in my fantasies. His voice gets under my skin and reaches right into my soul.

  I stand there, as if hypnotized, as we follow the minister’s instructions to put rings on each other’s fingers. It’s like I’m in a dream, watching my body moves on its own.

  This is a dream, right? It’s too close to my fantasies to ever be real. The beach setting, the flowers, the dress, and… And the groom.

  Then, as if in slow motion, he takes my white veil and pulls it up over my head. Now I see him more clearly. It’s like switching from an old analog TV to a high-definition one.

  I didn’t think it was possible for my heart to beat any faster, but it does, when his big, masculine hands touch my back.

  I cry out from surprise when he leans me down. I hear faint laughter in the background and remember there are people all around us, looking right at us.

  When Zeke’s lips touch mine, I know I’m in deep trouble. His kiss takes my breath away, just like it did, all those years ago.

  This marriage may be fake, but there are so many things that are real here. Too many.

  I put my hands on Zeke’s muscled, powerful arms as he continues to ravage my mouth.

  My whole world spins.

  This kiss is real. And so is the chemistry between us. As real as ever.

  I have no chance of getting out of this unscathed.

  But I’ve lost this battle now. I’m caught in the rip current swirling underneath the surface of Zeke’s calm demeanor. Now he’s dragging me down, deeper and deeper.

  I’m losing control, and I’m terrified.

  I should push away these feelings that are washing over me. I should be swimming up to the surface.

  But all I want is to drown myself in this madness.

  Ali

  Seven Years Ago

  “Do you think we’re in love? I think we are. I think I’m in love with you.”

  “You’re mine, Ali. I’m going to marry you, and we’ll have beautiful babies together.”

  “I’ll save up and then I’ll move to New Haven to be with you. I’ll find a job and we’ll live together.”

  These are all the things that Zeke has said to me in the four blissful days that we spent together at my parents’ house.

  But now, barely one month later, everything has changed.

  Here I am, sitting alone in my dorm room at Yale University, enrolled in the law school of my dreams. And I’ve never been more miserable in my life.

  I haven’t been able to reach Zeke.

  Well, that’s not accurate. We have texted and called each other, so it’s not like we haven’t been communicating at all.

  But it has been pretty one-sided.

  Whenever I want to reach him, he never texts me back right away or picks up my phone call. But when he’s looking for me, I’m always quick to respond.

  It’s not fair, although I know I’m not being fair either.

  This is only the first few weeks of classes for me. So even though there are classes to attend and new people to meet, I’m not that busy.

  Truth is, I’ve never been very quick to make friends, so I’ve been kind of lonely. This is the first time I’m living on my own, away from my family.

  Mom and Dad have been good at staying in touch with me, so that’s great. I’m not completely alone at least.

  But Zeke… God, I miss him.

  I want to get angry, but maybe I’m not being fair to him.

  His schedule is a lot busier than mine. He’s holding down two jobs—a full-time job as a member of my dad’s security team, and a part-time job as a personal trainer at the gym.

  So it makes sense that he can’t spend as much time on me as I can on him. He’s struggling to support himself by working all the time, while I’m a privileged girl from a wealthy family who has never had to work.

  I’ve never been one of those girls who cares about a guy’s money or connections. But Jesus, it sucks to have a boyfriend who works all the time.

  Boyfriend.

  I let out a big sigh. I don’t even know if I can call him that. It’s not like we’ve ever made it official.

  I wish he’d call me more, and I wish he’d call me his girlfriend. I wish he’d treat me like a priority.

  Oh god. Am I even listening to myself?

  I’ve never wanted to be clingy or jealous. And I definitely don’t want to nag anyone to commit to me. If a guy wants me, he needs to show me at least a little enthusiasm.

  Zeke may be my first boyfriend, but I’ve heard enough complaints from my girlfriends about their boyfriends to decide what kind of a girlfriend I want to be.

  Which is why I hate that Zeke has put me in this position. I don’t want to be that girl. The clingy, jealous nag. The buzzkill.

  This may sound crazy, but I still believe that Zeke meant everything that he told me in the darkness, while we were sneaking around behind my parents’ backs. Because even though we have only started to see each other, I’ve known him for three years, and I know he was being honest.

  I know he loves me, at least. But I don’t know if he’ll do anything about it—if he’ll actually move here to be with me, like he said he would.

  But I trust in the connection that we share.

  I may be young, but I literally have never met anyone who gets me like Zeke does. And I know he feels the same way. He told me himself, and I saw sincerity in his eyes.

  I know enough to understand this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing. I feel like Zeke is throwing this away, although in my heart of hearts, I know our connection is too strong for us not to get together eventually.

  But there’s no doubt Zeke has changed since I left San Francisco.

  Maybe he has forgotten how it feels to be with me. I know that if we were face to face right now, I’d be able to get him to do anything.

  But right now, as I hug my pillow on the other side of the country, I feel powerless. There’s nothing I can do to influence him. Hell, I can’t even get him to text me back.

  I squeeze my pillow and pretend it’s Zeke. But it doesn’t work.

  Of course it doesn’t. I’m being stupid. It will never feel like Zeke.

  It doesn’t have the warmth of his skin, or the lines and ridges of his muscles, or the weight of his hard body. It doesn’t react to my touch.

  I wonder if he thinks about me, too. I wonder if his cock stirs at night when he’s trying to sleep and I suddenly slip into his thoughts. I wonder if he gets hard.

  Just thinking about that big, hard cock he’s packing in his pants gets me all hot and bothered. He has the most magnificent cock. It’s thick, veiny, and it’s just the right size.

  Just when I start to reach my hand down into my pants, my phone rings.

  Oh my god. It’s Zeke.

  Maybe all that staring at the screen has worked to summon him after all.

  My heart pounds in my chest as I press the green button on the phone. If I don’t hurry, the phone might stop ringing. And then I won’t be able to speak to Zeke in a long time.

  “Zeke?” I say as I pick up the phone. I sound anxious. Why do I sound anxious? Jesus, I hate how anxious I sound. I hope Zeke doesn’t notice.

  “Hey, Ali,” he says in that voice I miss so much.

  “Hey, Zeke.” A smile blooms on my face.

  I’m talking to Zeke right now. Everything is good. I can put aside everything and just enjoy finally talking to him.

  “How’s life over there?” Zeke asks.

  “It’s pretty good,” I lie. I don’t want him to know how miserable I’ve been. I don’t want to appear weak or needy in front of him. “The first classes are pretty easy for now, but all the other students look so smart and I feel kinda intimidated.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” he says.

  “Thanks, baby.” My heartbeat picks up. I’ve never called anybody baby before, and it has been days since Zeke has called me a cute nickname. I’m hoping he’ll
reciprocate.

  “So, have you been meeting lots of new people?” Zeke asks.

  “Yeah. Some,” I answer half-heartedly as disappointment cools my blood.

  What is going on between us now? Why is he being so distant? I want to ask him so many questions, but I’m afraid of the answers.

  Worse than that, I’m afraid I’ll scare him away. After all the time I’ve wanted him, I don’t want to end it over some careless words.

  “Met any guys you like?” he asks casually, as if he’s completely unaware of how much it cuts into my heart.

  “No,” I say when I’ve recovered enough from the shock to respond. “Why do you ask that?”

  “I don’t know. You’re living in a new city; you’re going to college; you’re meeting people who are just as smart as you are. It’s possible you’ve met some guys you like.”

  “Zeke, I want to see you.” My whole body vibrates with fear and anticipation. What he says next could give me hope or crush me.

  He goes quiet.

  “Do you want to see me?” I ask again.

  Zeke remains silent for a few seconds that feel like forever. Finally, he says, “Of course I want to see you. But you’re so far away.”

  “I miss you,” I say with a big exhale. My muscles loosen up from the confession. I feel like I’ve been holding something heavy inside me, and now it’s out there.

  “I miss you, too,” he says, to my relief.

  “Then come see me.”

  “You’re on the other side of the country, Ali.”

  “I know. But it’s not that far. In case you haven’t heard, we have metal flying machines now,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. I laugh nervously.

  “Yeah,” he says.

  “It’s not so bad, Zeke. We could take turns flying to see each other every couple of months.”

  There’s a long pause, a silence filled only by my own loud heartbeats.

  Yes, this is crazy. A long-distance relationship doesn’t have much chance of working out.

  But I can’t just throw this all away. I can’t just throw us away. I need to give this a try.

  Zeke laughs awkwardly, then he says, “You’ve given this a lot of thought, haven’t you? You must really like me, huh?”

  My stomach drops. The entire time that he hasn’t been in touch, I’ve been hanging all my hopes on this. I’ve been telling myself to hang on.

  If we could come up with a schedule, with some kind of a plan, we could get through this.

  But without that…

  Without that I know we’re…

  Sadness rises from my chest and fills my whole body with lethargy.

  Suddenly, I’m tired.

  I’m so very tired.

  I can’t do this anymore.

  “Zeke, I have to go,” I say before my voice gets distorted by the lump in my throat.

  “Okay. Talk soon,” he says lightly, as if he hasn’t just broken my heart.

  Isn’t he even going to ask why I have to go? Does he care if he’s ever going to see me again?

  I don’t want to ask the questions. I don’t want to hear the answers. I know they’re only going to hurt me.

  So I hang up.

  Ali

  I stare at my own reflection in the mirror. So that’s what a married woman looks like. I’m exactly the same as I always have been.

  I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself down.

  Today has gone by like a whirlwind.

  Zeke’s driver picked me up in the morning with my luggage, then the chirpy wedding planner’s assistant fussed over me for hours. There was that kiss. And then the rest of the day was a blur of introductions and polite smiles.

  I got married today, for the first time ever. (Let’s face it, seeing as we’re going to get divorced a year from now, there’s probably a second husband in my future. Or even a third, if I’m that unlucky.)

  Sure, it was a nice ceremony, the setting couldn’t be more beautiful, and everything was perfect.

  But none of it makes much of an impression on me—not the music, not the food, and not even the high-profile guests. And I know why.

  I know exactly why.

  It’s because of that kiss. That damn kiss has filled my mind and expanded to push out everything else.

  It’s just like the way Zeke stole my heart, all those years ago, and left no space for anyone else.

  Even after all these years, no man has ever made me feel the way Zeke does.

  I’m not proud of it, but I’ve kissed a lot of men, in my numerous attempts to forget him. I kept on hoping that this next kiss would be the one that was going to finally erase Zeke from my memory.

  But it has never happened. At best, I’ve managed to function like a normal human being, and not like a broken thing with a lot of missing parts.

  And now, with just one kiss, Zeke has reclaimed my mind. It won’t be long until he reclaims my body, too. I just hope I’ll come out of this with my soul intact.

  At least I don’t have any sexual trauma to deal with. That would’ve made things a lot more complicated.

  Considering how long I was held in captivity by my parents’ enemy, I’m lucky to have gotten away without having been assaulted.

  To everyone else, Walter—my captor—presented me as his girlfriend. But that was more about appearances than anything. All I did was accompany him places and make him look good, like he had destroyed my dad so completely that even his precious daughter had joined the other side.

  According to the girls in the compound, Walter was impotent. He didn’t want me to find out, so he’d never tried to take me to his bed.

  Like I said, I’m a lucky girl.

  I check my reflection once more. I drag as much air into my lungs as I can, and walk toward the door of this en-suite bathroom. The white marble tiles feel cold and hard under my feet. So does the door handle.

  A chill runs through my whole body. I can’t tell if it’s because of the cold or because I’m terrified of what’s waiting for me behind this door—who’s waiting for me.

  I pull the door open and find the room already dark and quiet. A figure on the bed stirs—I can hear the sheets rustling.

  “Hey, Mrs. Harris,” Zeke greets me playfully. He has been calling me that all day.

  Back when I was younger, years and years ago, I would’ve been happy to hear it. But now… Now I’m conflicted.

  Back then, there was only love for him. But now, there are so many different emotions I can’t even hope to name them all. Anger, disappointment, sadness—they’re all there.

  And yes, that love is still there, too, although it’s often buried by all the other shit. That love is so terrifying I’ve been trying to cover it up, but it’s still there.

  “Stop calling me that,” I say curtly.

  “Okay… wifey.” Zeke grins as he flips the blanket open and pats the space on the bed next to him. In that low, seductive tone that I haven’t heard in a long time, he says, “It’s our wedding night. Come join me.”

  Electric currents rip through my body, sending goosebumps all over my skin and waking up all my senses. My body longs for him.

  Even after all this time, being alone with him in the dark evokes so many memories.

  If we had The Godfather playing on the TV hanging on the wall of this hotel room, this would an almost-accurate replay of the night he took my virginity.

  Lust. Trepidation. Yearning. Fear.

  I approach the bed and sit my ass down on the mattress, fully aware that Zeke is staring at me, watching my every reaction.

  I’m also fully aware of the fact that he’s not wearing any top. The blanket only covers the bottom half of him, and I can see the solid lines of his muscular body, as well as the tattoos all over his arms. I wonder if he’s naked underneath the blanket, too.

  “Talk to me,” Zeke says. “What did you think of the wedding?”

  “It was nice,” I say as I lie down on the bed. I pull the blanket over my body, a
ll the way up to my shoulders.

  I want him. It’s really hard not to just slide a few feet closer and climb into his arms, especially when I’ve spent many nights dreaming about him.

  But he scares me. He’s more dangerous than any man I know, because he touches me where others can’t reach: my heart.

  I’m wearing a loose T-shirt and a pair of old sweatpants, in an attempt to appear as unsexy as possible. But I can already tell that a bad outfit won’t stop Zeke—not when his eyes light up with primal lust like they do now.

  “‘Nice’?” Zeke repeats. “That’s all?”

  “Yeah.” I turn on my side to face Zeke, but at the same time I scoot backward to get as far away from him as possible. I don’t stop until I feel the edge of the mattress on my butt.

  “I thought you’d be more impressed,” Zeke says. “I tried to get everything that you want. The beach, the flowers, the cake… Every detail that I can remember. Did I miss anything?”

  “No, Zeke. Just… Things change, okay?” I lie.

  Yes, I still want all those things, just like I still want him. But I don’t feel the same about them anymore—about the wedding, or about him.

  “Oh, that’s a shame. I thought the wedding planner did a great job,” he says as he moves a little closer to me on the bed.

  “She did, especially considering she had so little time to plan it,” I say as the mattress dips deeper from Zeke’s weight. My heart beats faster and faster. I say, “Why don’t you give me her business card? I might want to hire her for my second wedding.”

  “Wow, you’re already planning your second wedding?” Zeke chuckles—not exactly the reaction I was hoping for. “But I’m not even done with you yet. We have a baby to make, remember?”

  “It’s been such a long day, Zeke. Can we just go to sleep tonight?” I’m panicking. I can feel my heart jumping in my rib cage. Jesus, it’s so damn loud. Can Zeke hear it too?

  “You don’t have to do anything,” he says with a hungry glint in his eyes. “Just relax and enjoy it. I’m going to make you forget all about how tired you are.”

  “Zeke, I’m serious. I’m beat. I should really—”

  Before I can finish my sentence, Zeke puts his hand on the back of my head and shuts me up with a kiss.