Blue Collar Billionaire: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 73)

by Flora Ferrari

  I know she’s a good girl. I know how her parents raised her. There’s no way she’s experienced.

  I feel my cock twitch at the thought that I could be the one to claim her. I could be the only man she ever knows. I could be her teacher and her everything forever. And I will.

  She’ll be with one man and one man only in this lifetime, and that man is me.

  “Glad I could make it,” I say, leaving out the part where I dropped what I was doing and raced right over.

  “My bed broke,” she says.

  Suddenly I feel anger shoot through me. How in the hell does a virgin break her bed?

  No, there’s no way. There’s no way the minute she goes off to college she suddenly becomes promiscuous. No way.

  I can’t even believe I’m having these thoughts about my little angel, but I know why I am.

  I take a deep breath and try to calm myself. There’s no point in projecting the anger arising from my possessiveness onto a situation that definitely didn’t happen. Damn, I’m acting jealous already and I haven’t even stepped through the door let alone told her she’s mine.

  “I’ll take a look,” I say making sure that my eyes don’t betray me because I’d much rather let them wander over her body than look at some piece of furniture right now.

  “Thanks. I called the landlord, but I got his voicemail. He’s out of the country on business and won’t be back for a few weeks.”

  “How dare he do that to you,” I say a little too quickly and a little too sharply.

  “It’s okay. I think he’s a fair guy. He couldn’t have known the bed might break. I mean these things happen in a furnished flat.”

  I take a look around the room. “He listed this as furnished?”

  “Yes.”

  “This isn’t furnished, and this isn’t fit for a young woman to be living in,” I say. “You should come live with…you deserve something better,” I say catching myself.

  “It’s okay, and it fits within my budget.”

  Now I’m in a tough spot, because I don’t want to offend her father by asking her to come live with me. He’ll wonder what the heck that’s all about plus he’ll feel like he can’t provide for her. That’s not what I want. But more importantly I don’t want her living in this dump. It’s okay if I was a single guy her age, but a young woman and especially one as special as her? No chance.

  Then again there is no one as special as her. I wouldn’t be acting this way, be feeling what I’m feeling, for anyone else. As a matter of fact I never have. Never.

  I’ve been busy with work my entire life, building up my business and the thought of having a woman in my life let alone a family never crossed my mind…until her.

  And now the thoughts consume me. Just like I want to consume her. To taste her from head to toe, kissing every square inch of her skin and watching and listening to the way she gets pleasure from my mouth…and a whole lot more.

  “Well, let’s see if we can spruce it up a bit then. There are a few small changes we can make that can make a big difference.”

  “I’m not sure I can afford it,” she says.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got warehouses full of extra stuff from projects I’ve worked on. It won’t cost me anything and it won’t cost you anything,” I say.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I wouldn’t take payment if you tried.” Unless of course she wants to pay with a kiss, which I would take as a pre-payment as in right now.

  And there’s no way I’m going to give her left over stuff. I’m going to give her the best, newest stuff I can get my hands on. This deadbeat landlord of hers just won the lottery by signing her as a tenant. He doesn’t even know.

  And he doesn’t even know how bad I’m going to rip into him when he gets back from that vacation. How can you take a vacation when you’ve got a young woman living in these kinds of conditions? Some people have no conscious. And yeah, he called it a business trip, but who files out of the country for “a few weeks” and doesn’t take some time off to enjoy themselves?

  But in a way I’m glad he’s gone, because it gave me the chance to come over here and be the hero. The hero I want to be for her always.

  “Now let’s get into your bed,” I say.

  Her eyes open wide and then her lids narrow as her pupils dilate. I watch as her body stiffens and she doesn’t move. It’s like she’s completely frozen, but completely in the moment at the same time.

  “I mean let’s get started on your bed. Get in there and see what broke,” I say.

  “Yeah, we should think about what we’re going to do in the bed…I mean with the bed,” she says. “I mean we might need to toss it out or something if it’s too broken, you know.”

  I’m not sure I do know right now. The way she’s looking at me…the Freudian slips…is she thinking the same thing I’m thinking?

  CHAPTER 3

  Ariella

  I watch as he flips the futon upright with the first two fingers on one hand.

  Are you kidding me? I have to grab the end with both hands and practically fall backwards just to get enough leverage to drag it across the floor.

  I watch as his eyes narrow and his nostrils flare as he surveys the underside.

  “It’s beyond repair,” he says with an angry tone.

  “Do you know where I can get a new one?”

  He stands up and locks eyes with me. “I have relationships with furniture providers. I can get you a new one. Don’t worry about it at all. Just tell me the general style you want and I can send some pictures over to your phone in about thirty minutes when I get back to my office.”

  “Okay, great. What’s the cost?”

  I hate to keep focusing on money, but I don’t have a lot and I need to make sure I don’t order something I can’t afford.

  “Don’t worry. These guys are competing for my business so tossing a futon my way from time to time is about the same as a businessman going out for drinks. They’re looking for big contracts and small things here and there are how they woo potential and current clients.”

  “I don’t want you to have to call in a favor for me.”

  His hand comes up and suddenly I see it out of the corner of my eye just next to my cheek. It’s like he was going to touch it, but then stopped at the last second. My heart rate picks up and I lean a little closer to him trying to will his hand to my cheek.

  “A fly,” he says backhanding the air, but I didn’t hear any buzzing or see any fly.

  Then he exhales. Was he holding his breath.

  “What I should do is call your landlord and ask him what he was thinking giving you this old piece of junk that probably came with this apartment when it was built.”

  “I think it was built in the sixties,” I say.

  “Exactly.” He pauses. “So if you can give me your number…”

  “Right,” I say and then quickly rattle off the digits.

  “I’ll message you,” he says, but he doesn’t move.

  “Okay,” I say softly, but we’re still just standing here looking at each other. “Want me to write it down so you don’t forget?” I say realizing he didn’t even take out his phone to type it in.

  “How could I ever forget?”

  “Me either,” I say. I’m referring to this moment right now. Giving him my phone number like we’re going to go out on a date or something. Like this could be real. Like something between us could actually happen. But I know my response probably doesn’t make any sense because he has no idea what I’m talking about.

  Suddenly he turns and walks out the door saying nothing.

  I follow him, stopping at the threshold and watch as he jumps in his truck and quickly pulls away.

  I turn to shut the door and I could swear I hear tires screeching to a halt, but there’s no sound of a crash or any screaming. That’s weird.

  I’m not the type to be sticking my nose in everywhere and frankly I’ve got a ton of stuff to do today so I shut the door and lo
ok at that poor excuse of a bed.

  What if he can’t get this one moved out today and another one moved in? Then where will I sleep?

  I guess I’ll have to run by Target or Walmart and pick up one of those inflatable mattresses if that’s what happens.

  But regardless of where I do sleep tonight I know where I want to sleep…

  Wrapped up in his big strong arms, after making love for the first time.

  CHAPTER 4

  Beau

  I had to pull over quickly and catch my breath. Damn, I was practically hyperventilating when I rushed out of there.

  Surely she heard my truck come screeching to a halt.

  And it’s because I heard her response. “Me either.”

  What was she referring to?

  The first time our hands touched? Asking for her phone number? How I almost put my hand on her beautiful, feminine, high cheekbones and then made up some stupid excuse about a fly that didn’t even exist at the last second?

  It could be any of those things, but I know she’s feeling this too. I can see it in her eyes. She wants me just as badly as I want her.

  And what’s up with that place where she’s living? I’ve got to get in there and renovate it. I’m supposed to have the landlords approval, but I can probably invoke some sort of clause if something breaks, and it looks like that place is about to fall apart at any second. There may even be mold in a place like that.

  I still can’t believe she’s living there, and I can’t let her spend one more night in that place.

  First I’m going to replace the futon and then when I’m there I’ll run an inspection and let her know all the problems. She’ll have no choice but to come home with me. By that time it will be too late to get a hotel room and she won’t be able to drive all the way home, plus that won’t make any sense.

  She could try and stay with friends, but I’m not sure she’s met anyone on campus yet.

  I’ll be her only choice, just like she’s my only choice…for life.

  I don’t want anybody else. Only her.

  I flip through the catalog of futons and find one that resembles the furniture I kind of remember from her room back home. I’d rather just send her pictures of beds and send a nice new California King over there, but there’s no way it would fit. Plus she probably wants a futon to relax on during the day and to entertain guests with.

  But with all the plans I’m going to dream up for us there will be no time for other guests, just me.

  I snap a few pictures and send them her way. I don’t even second-guess if I remembered the number correctly because there’s no way I was ever going to forget. And not having it in my phone is even better because if by some strange chance I’m around her dad and she calls her name won’t show up. That’s paranoia to the extreme, but my relationship with her father is very important to me. We’re just as close as if we were brothers.

  Not more than ten seconds goes by and a text comes back.

  You know my tastes :)

  Then another…

  I like the first one. xoxo

  She’s sending me hugs and kisses, huh? I hope she’s ready for the real thing because that’s exactly what she’s going to get the next time I see her.

  And probably a whole lot more.

  CHAPTER 5

  Ariella

  “How are your studies going so far?” he asks as he situates the new futon in the corner of my room. It looks absolutely beautiful, or at least as beautiful as a futon can look. It looks so good that it’s completely out of place, but that’s okay. It stands out…just like him.

  “It’s still a bit early to tell, but so far so good,” I say.

  He stands up straight. “I’ve got a guy coming by to pick up the old one so it can be disposed of properly. He’ll just grab it from the curb down there in the next hour or so. You won’t even notice him.”

  “Thanks. I really appreciate what you’re doing for me.”

  “Don’t mention it. And I’m not through yet.”

  “It’s okay. Everything else should be fine.”

  “Let me take a quick look around just to make sure,” he says and he’s already at work inspecting the place before I have a chance to tell him not to worry about it.

  I love the way he just takes charge and does things. I overheard a lot of girls in high school complaining that all their boyfriends wanted to do was sit around and play video games. Their number one goal in life was literally to be a professional video game player and to win contests and get sponsors and things like that. I know there’s money in that field, and to each his own, but I couldn’t imagine being with a guy whose whole life revolves around sitting on the couch all day.

  Beau is the exact opposite. He got ahead in life by hustling all the time. My dad told me he was legendary for the amount of hours he could work consecutively. When everyone else is tiring out Beau’s just getting warmed up. And I can see that now.

  It’s like my futon breaking was just a drop in the bucket. Now he’s really getting after it and I know he’s going to find a lot of other—

  “This has got to go,” he says.

  Just like I was saying to myself.

  “If I touch this pipe it’s going to explode,” he says as he’s checking out things underneath the sink in my bathroom.

  Which gives me time to check him out. He may be squatting down, but there’s no plumber’s crack to be found here.

  I can see all the muscles in his back ripple as he leans in so his hands do something underneath the sink. It’s kind of a weird position to be in, but even in this position his butt looks like it’s ready to be squeezed…by me.

  “Let me run out to the truck real quick and get some stuff to repair this,” he says.

  “You don’t have—“

  “It will only take a second and I won’t take no for an answer,” he says as he darts out the door.

  Not more than a minute goes by and he’s back in the house with some shiny new chrome pipes and a plumber’s wrench.

  “I disconnected the water supply so I’ve got to work fast,” he says diving right in again. I hear some clanging and watch his forearms flex as he moves that big red wrench.

  “Okay. Almost finished. I’ll throw the water back on and then solder it and we’re good to go.”

  He’s out the front door again and around the side of the building. I guess that’s where the water connects to the building? Wow, he’s really good at this stuff.

  And to think he’s thirty-six years old. My mind drifts back to these video game guys who are my age. The ones who don’t even get off the couch. They’re exactly half his age, but he has way more than twice their energy levels.

  Why in the world do some people have a stigma associated with dating older guys when it’s very clear this older man is way superior to anything my own age?

  He’s way more take charge, just like he is right now. He’s way more caring, like how he got me into my dream school and now he’s taking time out of his day to help me. He’s already established himself professionally and financially, which is why he has people coming to him giving him futons on command and why he lives in such a nice home in an expensive part of town.

  I could go on all day. He’s literally got it all.

  But why doesn’t he have a girlfriend or a wife?

  Does he snore super loud or something? I giggle and suddenly he literally comes bounding through the front door.

  “What’s funny?”

  “Nothing,” I say. “Just…my imagination. That’s all.”

  “I know you read a lot so you must have a very well-developed one.”

  “My imagination?”

  “Yeah,” he says as he’s back under the sink again, but this time with some kind of small metal pen looking thing that he plugs into the wall.

  “It’s pretty vivid,” I say, leaving off the “especially right now” part.

  He’s down on his hands and knees, but right now I wish it was me…and I’m no
t talking about underneath that faucet.

  I’m talking about yanking down his pants and taking care of that swollen pipe in his pants that I see every time I look…the one that looks like it’s about to burst and I know I want to help him with that.