by B. B. Hamel
Tonight’s no different. When we’re done, Julie asks if she can have some TV time, and I say that’s okay. She makes a beeline for the living room TV while David and I clear the table.
“What do you think?” he asks me as he washes the dishes. I do the drying and put everything away.
“About what?”
“You saw the memo this morning, right?”
I sigh. I was hoping he wouldn’t bring this up. “I saw it.”
“What do you think?”
I can tell he’s delighted, so I guess I have to burst his bubble. “I’m turning it down.”
He gapes at me. “What?”
“I’m turning to down,” I repeat. “Look, we’re busy enough at work. If you make me a division head, how am I going to spend any time with Julie at all?”
He just shakes his head. “We’ll figure it out. Come on, Emma. You’ve always wanted this.”
I look away from him. He’s not wrong. I’ve been wanting a division head position for years now. I like working under Sven with the other crew, but we’ve been slowly moving away from ethical robotics and into some weird propulsion stuff that I’m just not interested in. I’m not done with ethical algorithms, and I need my own division to pursue it fully.
The original ethical algo helped change things with the Mark 2. Accidents went down, which was expected, but something else happened, too. People complained less when the accidents happened. People saw that the choices the cars were making were designed to do as little damage and harm as possible, and slowly the narrative began to change. It went from self-driving cars acting on their own will to self-driving cars doing the bidding of humans.
Sales went up, and so did the proportion of self-driving cars on the road. Deaths caused by auto accidents have plummeted in the last couple years. There are a few competitors to Envoy in the market, which is a good thing. It’s forcing us to compete and innovate, and it means more people are driving self-driving cars.
“I just can’t do it,” I say to him. “Family comes first.”
He sighs. “I knew you’d say that. It’s why I went ahead and processed the promotion anyway.”
I stop cleaning and whirl on him. “You did what?”
“Listen, hear me out.”
“David, you asshole.” I glare at him and he glances toward Julie.
“Don’t let her hear,” he says softly.
I take a breath and let it out. “You can’t just do things like that, David.”
“Listen to me,” he says. “You won’t have a team.”
I hesitate. “What?”
“I’m processing you as a division head, but you’ll be a division of one. Which means you can make your own hours and even work from home if you want.”
I stand there, stunned. Envoy doesn’t work like that. It’s built up of discrete divisions, each working toward a greater goal. Division heads are the highest you can rise in the company, aside from upper-level management, but I’m not interested in David’s job. Divisions are always built up of clumps of people, and a big part of being a division head is managing your people. It mean long hours, lots of in-person time, that sort of thing.
“What do you think?” he asks, grinning. “A division of one means you’re free to—”
I throw my arms around him and kiss him hard. He pulls me close and returns the kiss. That old familiar tingle down my spine returns, although it’s never really left. I get it every night, and sometimes in the morning, too.
“Ew,” Julie calls out from the living room. “Stop.”
I pull back from David and grin.
“Quiet, daughter,” he calls.
“Yes, Dad,” she replies, rolling her eyes.
I kiss him one more time. “You’re amazing.”
“You’re being wasted on Sven,” he says, shrugging. “Anyway, it won’t be easy, working alone. We can assign you a remote team, if you want, but we’ll take it one day at a time.”
“Why do you spoil me?” I ask him.
“I’m not,” he says. “I want the Mark 5 to be the best car in the world, and I need my best people doing their best work.”
“No pressure, then?” I grin at him, feeling giddy.
“None at all.” He kisses me one last time, and we return to work cleaning up the dishes.
This is our life now. Our work is intertwined in everything we do, and that’s because we love it. We love being around each other and we love building these cars. We’ve seen a change in the world just from the Mark 2, and over the last three years, so many lives have been saved. Still, we have a long way to go, and the auto industry lobby is fighting back against us. A lot of people don’t want to give up their cars, even though we’ve proved again and again that self-driving cars save lives, and people can’t be trusted.
We’ll get there soon enough. David is the best at what he does.
But mostly, he’s the best at being a father. He and Julie are so close now, it almost amazes me. I can’t imagine what life was like before him. She’s so outgoing and happy, and I think a lot of it is because David is such a good Dad.
And I have to admit, I find that a little sexy.
We finish the dishes and we join Julie for her screen time. She snuggles up against me and David grins at me from the other side of her. I smile back at him and I feel so happy, so content, that I don’t want to do anything else.
We’re saving the world. But we’re also making a family, and falling in love every day in a new way. That’s better than anything else. This man, my love, makes me better. And our miracle baby brings us even closer together, every day.
Do you want another Miracle?
His Dream Baby
He’s coming for his dream baby. And he wants me to be the mother.
I never asked to be a mom, but when my cousin made me swear to watch over her son after she passed away, I agreed to adopt him.
But I had no clue his father was still around.
Connor is gorgeous, but he’s such an a**hole. He’s the sort of cocky jerk my cousin would go for, and not at all my type.
He wants his baby back, but I made a promise. I don’t care how charming and handsome Connor is, he's still a total stranger. I’m not letting him take my boy without a fight.
But Connor wants more than just his baby. He wants my body, and he’s not shy about it.
He says we're going to have a big family. He says he’s going to get me pregnant over, and over, and over.
It scares me how appealing that is. I want to feel his hard body against mine, lips crushed against my lips, hips pushed tight against my hips.
Connor says he’s getting his baby back plus a little extra.
It’s crazy, but I just might give it to him.
His Miracle Baby
Every doctor told me I’d never have a baby. But after just one night, I’m pregnant with his little miracle.
Elias Weaver is the kind of guy I should avoid. He's the mayor's son, and his bad boy reputation makes me nervous. But I put all that aside for just one night, and I make the best mistake of my life.
He gets me pregnant. It's a one-in-a-million chance, but of course it happens to me.
I’m having his miracle baby, but I’m not sure that I’m ready to be a mother.
We barely know each other. He’s handsome, cocky, funny, and completely blew my mind in bed, but I’m drowning in debt and barely able to take care of myself.
He wants to step up and be a father. More than that, he wants me. I decided to give my baby up for adoption, but he’s starting to make me reconsider.
Everything about him drives me wild. His touch, his stare, the way he laughs as his hands slide down my back.
He’s not letting go without a fight. He’s going to remind me why I gave myself to him that first night.
If he keeps touching me, I just might give him everything he wants and more.
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Intense: A Dark Billionaire Romance
Prologue: Aria
I test my restraints impatiently then lie back on the bed with a sigh.
It’s been almost a week since he bought me. One week ago, I thought my life was about to change.
And it has. It changed more than I could possibly imagine, but not in the ways I expected.
He’s mysterious, tall, handsome, dark, and more dominating than I ever could have guessed. He makes me beg and beg for more but never gives me what I want.
He makes it feel good in other ways.
The bed is enormous with a high, ornate canopy. The soft white silky fabric that hangs down on all sides mutes the light and makes it hard to see the rest of the beautiful room.
My room. He gave me my very own room complete with a bathroom, tiny little sitting area, personal gym, and twenty-four-hour room service. It’s like living in my own little paradise.
Except paradise should give me what I want, which he refuses to. He keeps whispering in my ear, soon, soon, just beg a little longer, but each night he leaves me quivering with desire. I don’t know what to do. I never thought I’d actually want this more than anything, but now that I do, he just won’t budge.
I want him. I want his touch. I bite my lip as I realize how dripping wet I am.
I wish I could reach down and touch myself. These last few nights, that’s the only thing that’s keeping me sane. But I can’t move since my wrists are tied to the headboard with soft black silk.
My heart is hammering in my chest. I want him, but I don’t know when he’ll come. He tied me up, kissed me softly on the lips and then told me to be patient. That was almost a half hour ago. I’m trying to be patient, just like he told me to be, but it’s hard.
Actually, it’s impossible. I want him to push apart the canopy and crawl on top of me. I want him to crush me with his muscular body, pin me down to the bed, have his way with me. I want him to ravish me.
After all, that’s why he bought me. I’m supposed to give into his every desire, to pleasure him. Instead, he’s spent this last week teasing me, getting to know me, giving me everything I want. I’m pampered but I’m so frustrated.
I perk up suddenly when I hear the door open and close. I hear his footsteps move across the floor, but I don’t say a word.
That’s part of the game. I’m supposed to be silent and demure. I’m supposed to do exactly what he says, and if he goes too far, there’s a certain word I can use. It’s our safe word. If I say it, the game stops instantly. But I can’t imagine using it.
I want the games. They keep me going.
I’m his for a month. He owns me and at first, I hated it. I never wanted to be in this position, but here I am.
Now though, I’m not so sure. I’m not positive that I hate this. I don’t hate him, that I’m sure of. Part of me doesn’t like being bought and sold, but part of me finds it so exciting that he owns me completely, at least for a month.
I can sense him standing next to the bed. My heart hammers in my chest. I don’t know what he’s going to do to me this time, but I can’t wait to find out.
The fabric parts and I stare up into his piercing green eyes, a slight smile on his lips. He leans over me, sitting on the bed, half in and half out of the canopy. He’s wearing a clean white shirt unbuttoned halfway down that’s tucked into a beautiful pair of tailored suit pants.
His smile is so delicious. I stare into his eyes, waiting, begging, needing.
“You’ve been good,” he says, barely a whisper. He moves closer to me. “Do you know what good girls get?”
I shake my head slightly, eyes wide, heart hammering.
“They get whatever they want,” he says, still smiling. “What do you want, my little toy?” He pauses and his smile gets bigger. “You may speak.”
“You,” I say, not breaking eye contact. “I want you.”
“Good.” His thumb moves down my lips. I part my mouth and take his thumb between my teeth. I can feel my pulse between my legs as his other hand moves slowly down my chest, pausing over my breasts, moving down toward my pussy.
“You’ve been so good, little toy, so good,” he says, mouth close to my ear. His hand pauses just above my pussy. I’m completely naked and dripping wet, as vulnerable as I possibly can be, and yet it only makes me that much more aroused.
“Do you think you deserve it?” he asks. “Tell me if you do.”
“I deserve it,” I say. “I’ve been so patient.”
“Yes, you have.” He kisses my ear, nibbles it softly, then kisses my neck. “So patient. So good. I’ve spoiled you enough, haven’t I?”
“Yes,” I moan. “I’m spoiled.”
He pulls back, a wicked smile on his lips. “I didn’t say you could respond.”
I stare, eyes wide, realizing my mistake. He pulls his thumb from between my legs and moves up onto the bed.
“Now you’ll need to be punished.”
He moves down between my legs, spreading them wide. I practically moan as he looks at my dripping wet pussy, bare and clean for him.
I’m dripping. I’m aching. “Please,” I whisper. “Punish me.”
He grins and when he touches my body, my entire world shrinks down to the pressure of his fingers against my skin, and everything goes light.
1
Ethan
One Week Earlier
I lean back in my large black leather chair and look out the wall-sized window, staring out across the city.
It’s the middle of the day and already I’m exhausted. I’ve barely slept over the last month as my company, World Line Inc., has gone through some enormous structural changes. We acquired one of our smaller competitors, and in the process we’ve had to change things up to fit their new employees and manufacturing.
It’s been exhausting, but the end is almost near. And when we’re finished, World Line will be one of the largest manufacturing tech companies in the world.
I sigh, stretching. I crack my neck and lean back, groaning. I feel like a man twice my age, although I’m only thirty-two. I’ve spent the majority of my life so far, from when I was just a college dropout at the age of twenty to now, building this company and growing it aggressively. I started out with a simple idea, a tweak to the manufacturing process, and grew it into a world-wide conglomerate.
I sacrificed a lot to get where I am. The magazines all like to call me the most eligible bachelor under forty, but I rarely ever feel that way. I fucked my way through the socialite scene, because I don’t have time to spend on getting close to women.
But where has that left me? I can’t help but wonder sometimes if things would be better if I gave a woman more than just one night. Maybe not a relationship, because I’m not interested in getting fucking tied down, but something. I don’t know what. A friendship, a fuck buddy. Hell, I barely have time for anything outside of the business these days.
I lean back and put my hands on the back of my head, sighing. It probably doesn’t matter, anyway. I have enough money to retire and live a rich life at this point, but I know I’m never going to. That’s not the type of man that I am.
Settling down isn’t something I want. I work hard and I play hard when I get the time. I live to win and to dominate everything around me, that’s how I’ve gotten to where I am. Thinking too hard about my life won’t do any g
ood, not at this point.
As I’m about to turn back to my desk and get back to these contracts, my cellphone buzzes. I pick it up and unlock the screen, cocking my head at the message.
It’s from a blocked number. Which is unusual, because I have my phone set up to block all incoming messages from blocked numbers.
But that’s not the weirdest part. As I read the message, I can’t help but think I’ve been transported to some new universe.
Dear Mr. Locks, You are cordially invited to bid on the most beautiful women on the market. This auction is only for men of means and power. It is a private event. If interested, simply respond to this message. You were invited by one Mr. Range. See him for any questions. Respond in twenty-four hours. Cordially, The Syndicate.
I read the message over twice before I start to understand what it’s saying.
It’s an invitation to a human auction. I’ve heard about these things, but only as whispers. It’s said that there are places where only the most attractive women are sold for high prices and long periods of time. It’s a way to buy a wife or a mistress even, or maybe just a girlfriend for a week.
I never went looking for these auctions because I never needed to. I know that some of my peers engage in them, because it’s easier to buy a woman for a week than it is to pick one up, but I usually like the chase. It’s fun to seduce and be seduced. These escorts, they’re just a way to fuck and be done with it.
I have no clue why Mack invited me to this auction. Mack Range is one of my closest friends and the owner of a company we often do business with. We’ve been to several parties together and he knows I have no trouble getting women when I want them.