The Shameless Billionaire Series: Billionaire Romance Box Set (An Alpha-Male, Billionaire, Bad Boy, Bad Girl, Romance)

by Michelle Love

  “Hmmm,” I moan.

  “I want you to know, I love you, Beth Stattler.” Heat fills me with his words.

  He pulls back and looks at me. With a smile, I say, “I love you too, Channing Michaels.”

  The smile that moves over his face makes him even more handsome. “One day, I’m going to make you mine forever.” His mouth takes mine again and I can’t believe what he’s said.

  Does that mean what I think it means?

  Does that mean one day I will become Mrs. Channing Michaels?

  I don’t dare let myself get too carried away. But thoughts are running through my head about wedding dresses and weddings and kids.

  He gives my lip a bite and moves his body all the way over mine and pushes his hard cock into me. My knees come up and I wrap my legs around him as he starts stroking into me.

  The bed squeaks a little with every thrust then the headboard starts banging against the wall. He stops his kiss and looks at me. “I haven’t had sex in this bed. I didn’t know it would be this noisy. Sorry. I’ll get another one tomorrow.”

  He places his mouth on my neck and bites and sucks at it as he pumps up and down, making the bed bang the wall even louder. Then he takes one leg and runs his arm around the back of my knee, lifting it until my knee is by my head.

  Making deeper strokes into me, sends waves pulsing through me. My moans become louder and I start making little shrieks with every hard thrust as it goes so deep.

  The room is filled with the noise of our love-making. Lightning strikes from close by, sending thunder to temporarily drowned out the sounds we both are making and the bed as well.

  A gust of wind blows the light cream colored curtain in just as another bolt of lightning fills the room with light. And I find my release and scream, “Channing! Channing!”

  His cock jerks inside me as he screams, “Beth! Fuck, Beth!”

  The door to his bedroom flies open. We both turn our heads and I see a tall, thin, blonde woman wearing a white flowing gown. Her hand stretches out and one long finger points right at us.

  “Jana!” Channing shouts. “Christ, Jana!”

  The door slams shut and Channing jumps off me and runs to the door, throwing it open.

  I grab my towel off the floor and throw it around my naked body and haul ass after him as he runs down the long hallway. But the woman is nowhere to be found.

  He throws open door after door, revealing nothing. I heard no footsteps and there was no sound of doors closing.

  Channing runs all over the entire house as I follow him. Then he throws open the front door and there’s no car outside. He turns as I pull him back inside the house as he’s naked as the day he was born.

  My heart is pumping like crazy in my chest. She was so pale it seemed. So quiet, so not real.

  Channing is shaking as he pulls me to him. “Did you see her too, Beth? Or was it just my imagination?”

  I wish I could tell him it was that. “I saw her too, Channing.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?” He pulls back and searches my eyes. “Really, Beth! What the fuck was that?”

  Should I actually let the word come out of my mouth?

  “I don’t know.” I look into his eyes which have turned dark and tired suddenly. “Do you want to go back to my place?”

  He shakes his head. “No. I just want to stay put and see if she shows up again.”

  “Should I leave?”

  He takes my hand and leads me back up the stairs. “Not tonight. Did you notice the storm is about to bring a downpour on us?”

  I follow him and keep looking over my shoulder for his dead wife to make another appearance. I want to talk about it so damn bad, but I know he wants to forget it happened at all.

  Fuck! Who could deal with that?

  Chapter 13

  CHANNING

  Not a wink of sleep is coming to me on this night. I hold Beth as she sleeps on my chest, but sleep is evading me.

  I saw her. Clear as day, I saw, Jana.

  Never have I seen a ghost and I’m not ready to say I have now, but I don’t know what the hell to think.

  If she was real, how did she just disappear? How did she vanish into thin air if she was real?

  In all this time, nearly two whole months since she disappeared off the sailboat, I’ve never seen her. Then the first time Beth comes over and we see her. Or a version of her, anyway.

  I have no idea of what I should do. It’s not as if I was the love of Jana’s life and she wants no other woman to have me. That’s not it.

  Revenge? Could it be? Did I accidentally miss her cries for help when she fell off the sailboat and she’s blaming me in her afterlife for her death?

  I kind of think I might need to see a psychiatrist. Or a psychic. One or the other or maybe both.

  The thought comes to me that I’ve yet to go into her bedroom. Not one time have I been in there. Not that I had before she died either.

  Moving Beth off my chest, I lay her on the pillow and get out of the bed. I grab a pair of shorts and pull them on then set off on the cross house trip to the room she called hers. On the first floor and the other side of the house.

  The place I’ve called my home for the last five years seems eerie to me all of a sudden. The storm passed but I can still hear rumbling thunder in the distance. Shadows cast on the walls as I make my way down the first set of stairs.

  The house has four stories. The top story is one big room. I call it the party room, but I’ve never had a party there. My bedroom is on the third floor along with a couple of others and a media room, an office, and a workout room.

  This floor was always mine and mine alone. As a matter of fact, Jana, never even came up here. So for her, whatever that was, to come up here is just plain odd, anyway.

  The second floor is mostly rooms I store stuff in and then I make it to the first floor and go through the kitchen then the living area and then the hallway that leads to her bedroom.

  My heart’s pounding as I turn the knob. It’s odd, I’m almost expecting to find her in there.

  The door creaks as I open it and I see the window has been left open.

  Shit!

  I knew I should’ve made myself come in here, but for some reason, I just couldn’t.

  Flipping the light switch on I look around and find clothes lying all over her bed which is unmade. The make-up desk where she would spend hours fixing her face has make-up all over it and a few sets of false eyelashes.

  Shoes that cost tons of money are lying all over the floor as if they were bought at the dollar store. The woman took care of nothing. She always acted if money was no object and things didn’t need to be taken care of because with my money I could easily replace anything she broke, ruined, or lost.

  A wasteful creature she certainly was. And a filthy one as well.

  Closing the window, I lock it and go to make sure the others are locked as well. And I find every last one of them unlocked.

  That shouldn’t surprise me. I’m sure she was still messing with Morgan. Then it hits me that her car is still parked in the second garage. I never went to look at it either.

  I think I’ll have Rocky come and clean all this stuff out and give it to a charity store. Her car can be donated as well. God knows I’m not going to drive it.

  His mother can have it if she wants. I think Rocky’s dad, my old college roommate who decided to enlist in the army and made it one tour only, would like it if I gave it to her.

  Rocky’s mom was pregnant when Arturo left. They married just before he left and he never came back. So I became their baby’s godfather and made sure he didn’t want for anything.

  His mother, Ann, doesn’t let me do as much as I want to. She’s proud and works hard to keep a roof over his head. He turned fifteen the other day.

  It’s been a damn long time since his dad and I were twenty. A damn long time.

  With everything locked back up, I leave the room and turn out the light. Then go to the gar
age with her car in it.

  As I head to the opposite side of the house it’s not lost on me just how separate our lives were lived. Through the kitchen I walk and have to shake my head as we even had two refrigerators.

  I had a large sub-zero when she moved in the day we got married. Only a month later she had to have her very own. It’s a little larger than the one I had.

  I had to have some of the cabinets removed to fit it in. Her reasoning was her food was always getting pushed to the back of the fridge.

  It wasn’t a lie. She never ate. So it did get pushed back. And the fact she didn’t eat didn’t stop her from purchasing the most expensive shit in the most expensive grocery stores.

  Everything had to be organic. Yet the stuff sat in the fridge until it rotted. And that takes a while. I pause in front of her fridge and open it.

  Full, as always. And not a thing touched. I’ll have that cleaned out as well. No reason to keep any of it. If I used any of it, then I’d be reminded of her and the less I am the better.

  Yeah, I definitely need to see a shrink!

  Even though it’s been a while since I’ve had any nice feelings about her, I still should have some sadness. I should miss her somewhat. I should feel bad and I just don’t.

  And the more I think about the wine that day, I know she drugged it. She had to have.

  And the sailboat trip she had to take. Even though there were warnings that bad weather could come up, she had to go.

  Promises of trying to work things out. Promises of leaving Morgan alone. Promises of thinking about having a baby.

  I don’t even know why I brought that up to her. I didn’t even want to have a child with her. Like ever.

  She was not mother material!

  But for some odd reason, I brought that up one day when we were doing our typical arguing. I told her I wanted a baby, and she told me she would never mess up her figure for a kid.

  She was about to turn forty that day we argued about a thing I didn’t even want with her. I knew her days were numbered for having healthy children. And I just brought it up.

  The whole relationship had been a lie in my opinion and I should’ve divorced her when I found out about her and my father. But I didn’t.

  For spite, I didn’t. Now look where I am.

  Waiting for her to be declared dead so I can start seeing the woman I do love, with everything I have in me, out in the open.

  I feel like a real tool. A fucking idiot.

  Moving on out of the kitchen I push open the door to her garage. Her black BMW sits there with the top still down. Her car keys in the ignition.

  Walking over to it, I look at the tan leather and run my hand over it. Then my eyes run to the glove box. It’s open.

  Looking over the rest of the car, I decide to open the trunk. Walking around the car to get to the driver’s side and open the trunk I stop as I hear something in the kitchen.

  I left the door open and spin around and run back. Not knowing what the hell I’ll find.

  “Channing?”

  Beth’s face pops around the door and I stop running. “Oh, it’s just you.”

  “Yeah.” She laughs a little. “Just me.”

  I go to her and close the door to the garage. “I didn’t mean it that way, Baby.”

  “Is that her car?” she asks. “Have you kept everything of hers?”

  She looks confused and who could blame her. I talk one way and here I am holding on to her stuff. Well, that’s the way it looks, anyway.

  Running my arm around her shoulders, I pull her close and head back up the stairs. “I just haven’t ever had much to do with her things. It really slipped my mind is all. I’m going to get rid of it this coming week. I swear.”

  She pulls the towel tighter around her. “I woke up, and you were gone and it freaked me out. I was having a nightmare. It was about…” She just stops talking and I stop our climb up the second set of stairs.

  “About what?” I look at her and she looks pale.

  “About her and her coming back and taking you away from me.” She pulls away from me and walks up the steps.

  I catch up and grab her arm. “Look at me.”

  Her green eyes flutter up to mine. “If she’s not dead. If she does come back. What will you do, Channing? It would look terrible for you to divorce her after everyone thought she was dead. What if she was rescued after she made it to some island? What if she comes back, Channing?”

  “She’s not alive. There’s no possible way, Beth. The waters were too dangerous. If she had on a life jacket I would say there would be a small chance, but she didn’t.” I start moving us up the stairs again.

  “What if she does show up one day, though?” She stops and looks at me with a hint of a tear threatening. “What will that mean for us?”

  “It will mean I can divorce her and move on with you. That’s all it will mean.” I pick her up and carry her to bed. “She’s not coming back, though. I assure you, she isn’t.”

  I hope she isn’t…

  Chapter 14

  BETH

  “Want me to pick you up and take you for coffee, Michelle?”

  Not even a second passes as she answers me over the phone. “Can I drive the Lambo?”

  Drumming my fingers on the steering wheel as I sit in the car outside the building the psychiatrist’s office I found for Channing is located in, I think about it for a moment. “Okay.”

  “How far away are you?” she asks as I hear her pulling on clothes.

  “Ten minutes. I have an hour to kill. Meet me outside.” I end the call as I hear her falling over something and cussing about it.

  As I pull out of the parking lot I see a familiar sight. One I’ve begun to see way too many times as Channing and I go about our daily activities.

  A black Cadillac driven by a person in a hooded sweatshirt. The person always has the hood up and the window of the passenger side rolled down. And it seems the person has business everywhere Channing does.

  It’s been a week since I spent the night with him at his beach house. I haven’t been back there, and he says he’s seen nothing else. But he wanted to start seeing someone about his lack of emotions about Jana’s death or missing situation.

  He says he feels nothing except relief he doesn’t have to deal with her any longer. I think he has some deep repressed feelings he isn’t dealing with so when he told me he wanted to talk to someone, I found him the best psychiatrist in Miami to help him.

  Rolling into the dorm parking lot, I see Michelle waiting for me. I haven’t seen her at all since I took the job and moved out. I’ve talked to her very little as well. I don’t know how I’ll be able to keep our little secret from her. But I have to.

  As I pull to a stop she walks right up to the driver’s side door. Her hand running over the red hood of the car, she says, “K. Get out.”

  I get out and hold my arms open. “No hug first?”

  She hugs me then moves me to the side. “Get in.”

  I laugh as I go around to get into the passenger side. A place I’ve yet to sit in. Watching her run her hands over every part she can of the car I laugh. “Thinking about taking off anytime soon. I have about forty-five minutes left before I have to pick up the boss.”

  She looks over at me and frowns. “I have to get to know the car, Bethy. Something as special as this needs to be appreciated.”

  So I sit back and shut up and let her meet the car. After another minute, I sigh heavily so she can see my exasperation and she begins to pull out of the parking lot.

  “Wow! You didn’t even let it die. I’m impressed,” I say as she drives it smoothly and not too fast.

  “Yeah, I had a stick for my first car. I loved it.” She changes gears as we move down the street. “So, how’s it been going?” She looks at me for a second then back at the road. “Prada, Beth? Damn!”

  I run my hand over the scarlet top I have on. “Yeah, the boss man bought me all new clothes. He has definite ideas about ho
w I have to look in order to be seen with his gorgeous ass.”

  “You look amazing. I barely recognized you. If you ever quit or get fired do you get to keep the clothes?” She glances my way again as she pulls into the small coffee shop we both love.

  “We’ve never discussed that. I don’t want to think about not having this job. I love it more than I knew I would.” I’m talking about the man as well.

  “How are things with Mr. Perfect?” She parks and runs her hands over the steering wheel and sighs.

  We get out of the car and I bump her shoulder with mine as we go through the door of the coffee shop at the same time. “Mr. Perfect is far from perfect, but he is fascinating.”

  The barista behind the bar knows what we want and after giving us a nod and looking me up and down twice, she gets to making our coffees. We take a couple of the chairs by the window and sit down to wait.

  Michelle’s eyes keep roaming out to the car. It’s clear she adores it. “And the apartment. I mean, you said it was nice but is it gorgeous like everything else?”

  “It is. Nothing is average. Everything he has is above average. Fantastic and amazing.” I realize I’m gushing and stop. “You know, normal rich people things.”

  The barista, Carmen, clears her throat and we see our coffees are done and go up to get them. Michelle looks at me with a sly smile. “Your treat, right?”

  “I did invite you, so yes.” I pull out a hundred-dollar bill as that’s all I have on me. “Here you go, Carmen. And keep the change.”

  Some Cuban phrase rolls off her tongue as she makes a bunch of gestures with her hands. Then she looks at me. “Thank you!”

  “Sure.” We walk back to the table as Michelle looks at me with a smile.

  “So, lots of money with this job then?”

  I blow the surface of the steaming cup. “I get paid every week and have yet to spend a dime of my own money until just now. It felt good too.”

  “You can spend your money on me whenever you want, moneybags.” Michelle takes a sip from the hot cup of strong coffee and shakes her head. “You’re moving up in the world, Stattler.”

  “For however long this lasts,” I say, getting a little of that melancholy I’ve been getting from time to time.