The Billionaire Bad Boy Plan

by Michelle Love

  ‘Isabel…’

  She suddenly took his hand and pushed her way into the lounge of the boat, through the corridors to the restrooms. Ignoring the ‘Ladies only’ sign, she pushed him into a cubicle.

  ‘Fuck me,’ she ordered, looking him straight in the eye. A fire raged inside him as he unzipped his pants, and with one move, tore her panties from her. She jerked with the sudden pain of the cotton ripping against her skin as she expertly slid a condom onto his straining cock. He picked her up and she braced her legs against the far wall as he pushed her skirt up.

  ‘I’m going to fuck you so hard, little girl,’ he whispered and was rewarded by her hungry kiss as he slammed into her, his cock rock-hard and aching to pound her into the wall, possess her, screw her until she begged him to stop. She came again, too quickly for him – he was still rock hard – but turning around to face the wall, she looked back at him, her eyes alive, raising her skirt so he could see her perfect ass.

  For a split second, he paused, understanding in his eyes. ‘Are you sure?’

  She nodded, breathless. He parted her buttocks, marveling at the shape of them, the roundness. She leaned forward to help him but not before fumbling in her bag that she’d remembered to bring in with her and poured some of the coconut oil that she used to moisturize her hands onto her palms. Rubbing them together rapidly to melt it, she then reached behind her and slickened up his cock. With his cock better prepared now to enter her, he thrust into her ass. God, the feeling. As he fucked her, he reached around and slid his long fingers into her, his thumb flicking her clit, his fingers quickly drenched with her honey with her moans of pleasure driving him on.

  Such long, sensual, tight thrusts, again, again, again, and he came explosively, trying to muffle his groans by burying his face in her hair. He could feel that her skin was hot, damp from sweat. Her hands were splayed on the wall, steadying her and he covered them with his, lacing their fingers together. She was gasping, leaning her forehead against the cool tile.

  ‘Isa…’ he whispered, ‘…my beautiful Isabel…’ He pulled out and turned her gently to face him. Her cheeks were pink, flushed, her eyes wide and excited. He was drawn into the deep warmth of them, so dark that he couldn’t tell where her irises ended and her pupils began.

  ‘I don’t know if there are any more ways I can tell you how beautiful you are…,’ he breathed ‘…but I’m going to tell you every day for the rest of my life.’

  Her lips were on his then, and the kiss seemed to go on and on and on…

  ‘You have the smug air of the recently fucked.’ Cal, his legs thrown up on Sam’s desk, studied his half-brother with a mock-disgusted expression on his face. Sam grinned. He might be more than a decade younger than Sam, but Caleb Levy had all of the keen instincts and street smarts of a man twice his age. And the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

  Sam pushed Cal’s bare and very filthy feet from his desk. ‘Wise ass.’

  Cal slid good-naturedly out of his chair and moved around the desk.

  ‘Was she pretty? Tell me she was hot – I know your taste – please tell me you ignored all your instincts towards, y’know, crayzeee and found…’

  ‘Wanna let me answer?’ Sam shrugged out of his jacket. Cal slouched into the chair opposite him, a triumphant smile.

  ‘I knew it. When you didn’t come home last night, I figured you must have scored.’

  ‘Charming.’ Sam sat down. He felt strangely disconnected from the conversation, his mind, his body still on that ferry boat with Isa. He could still taste her kiss, feel her skin, and revel in the sensation of being inside her.

  ‘Earth to Samuel,’ Cal intoned, and flicked a ball of paper at his brother. ‘Jeez, that good, huh?’

  Sam smiled apologetically. ‘Sorry, bro. Her name’s Isabel – Isa. I’m taking her to dinner tonight, and I want you to meet her.’

  Cal was silent, studying his brother’s expression. ‘Okay, sounds good.’ He gave an incredulous chuckle. ‘Dude… you’re seriously telling me you met some girl in the last twenty-four hours and now you’re…’ He squinted at his brother then shook his head. ‘Whatever. I’ll be there.’

  Sam tapped the desk, a wide smile on his face. ‘Good. Now let’s get some actual work done. We have a new artist to promote.’

  Cal looked up, his blue eyes betraying his surprise. ‘Really?’ Then his face fell, and he sighed. ‘Wait… please tell me it’s not your new fuck buddy?’

  Sam winced slightly. ‘Her name’s Isa, Cal. And yes, I know what you’re thinking, but this is an entirely different situation to, well, you know.’

  Cal rubbed his hand over his dark blonde hair, his forehead creasing. ‘Yes, bro, I do know.’

  Sam sighed. Cal had once been very close to Sam’s ex-wife Casey, had adored them as a couple but when Casey started to lose the plot… Sam would always regret the hurt his split with Casey had caused his younger brother. Afterward, it had seemed to color Cal’s own relationships as much as it had Sam’s.

  ‘Look, Cal, I’ll hold my hands up. Twenty-four hours ago, I’d be right where you are. No business and pleasure, oldest rule in the book. But Isa is…’ he shook his head, almost incredulous. ‘The connection… wait until tonight; you’ll see for yourself. She’s a completely different person to Casey.’

  Cal still looked skeptical, and Sam couldn’t blame him. He changed tack. ‘Anyhow, her work is worthy of its own showcase. Nothing big, just a local show at Zoe’s gallery on Bainbridge, local press, some networking. I think if I tried to push her into more at this point, she’d balk anyway. So that’s what we need to set up.’

  Switching to assistant mode, Cal had grabbed his notebook and was jotting down ideas, already thinking ahead of Sam’s plans. Sam loved that his brother was so reliable, so hardworking despite his laid-back manner; he trusted Cal to execute his plans to the highest quality, enjoyed the ease of communication between them. Their late father had raised an eyebrow when Sam had taken on Cal straight from college. Family shouldn’t work for family he’d warned, but Sam had followed his gut. Cal was the reason he was able to do his job as well as he did and he loved his half-brother for it. Sam leaned forward.

  ‘You don’t mind?’

  Cal held out his hand for a fist bump, which Sam returned with a grin. ‘Consider it done. So, dinner tonight and I get to meet the hottie?’

  Sam rolled his eyes. ‘Isa.’

  Cal grinned and disappeared, and Sam sat back, nodding to himself. He felt changed, weirdly, a different person to the one who had gotten on that ferry yesterday. More relaxed, less driven except when it came to her. He wanted to immerse himself in her, her life, her work, her glorious body. Every part of her.

  Jesus, man, get a grip. But he said it to himself with a smile. Isabel Flynn.

  He had no doubt he would change any part of his life for her.

  Isa skipped out at lunch and caught a cab into the city to find something to wear to dinner that evening. She darted in and out of the stores, trying to find something suitable. Sam was so elegant, his clothes so beautifully tailored that she felt she had to make an effort to look less like a scruffy artist. At least for one night, she told herself. She didn’t want him to think she’d change completely for him; she was still a tomboy at heart, always would be. Somehow she didn’t think he would mind.

  She found a simple dress in one of the more alternative stores and while it wasn’t designer, the moment it slid over her body, she knew that it was the one.

  Changing back into her work clothes, she suddenly felt a shift in the atmosphere of the changing room. Someone was in the room with her. She pushed the curtain aside and peeked out. The other cubicles were empty as far as she could see, only the last two at the end of the narrow corridor were out of sight.

  Paranoia.

  But she dressed quickly and went to pay for the dress. The weather outside had turned wet, and the sky had darkened with the threat of an oncoming storm. She dashed through the rain, darting down an alleyw
ay and short cuts she knew by heart on her way back to the college. It was so dim that by the time she got there, that the lamps in the parking lot had sparked to life.

  Isa walked to her department, along a small pathway, the college wall to one side, a thick privet hedge on the other. There were no lights down here, and the pathway was nearly a city block in length.

  She heard the footsteps behind her and spun around. No-one. She squinted into the shadows, her heart thumping. Last year, there had been a series of sex attacks on young grad students and other women both at the college and in the city. In the aftermath of that, the tension and fear had yet to abate.

  Isa told herself that there was nothing and the footsteps had merely been an echo of her own, but as she turned back, her pace quickened and finally, with a sigh of relief, she stepped into the building, and a rush of people surrounded her on their way to classes.

  She hung the dress up on the back of her office door. Checking her phone, she found a message from Sam, telling her that he would pick her up at six. Glancing at the clock, she smiled. Four more hours. She sighed happily and finally, got back to work.

  ‘Wow.’ Isa stepped into his penthouse apartment and looked around with wide-eyed admiration. Sam smiled at her reaction; he had been expecting it but still. Her opinion was worth so much more to him. Isa slowly walked around the huge space, taking in the ceiling-to-floor windows that gave a panoramic view of the city on two sides; the expensive and stunning art on his walls; the comfortable and yet elegant furnishings.

  Sam held his hand out to her, and she took it, smiling, as he led her silently into his bedroom. Above his bed, he had already hung her painting; its rich, vibrant colors bursting out, giving life to the dark, muted shades of the room’s décor. Sam watched pink spots appear on Isa’s cheeks and when she turned to him, her eyes glistening with tears, her smile radiant, proud.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, and the slight catch in her voice made his stomach contract with desire. He tipped her face up to his and kissed her, his lips firm against hers, his fingers sliding into her hair. Her hands were resting gently on his chest, but as the kiss deepened, he felt her reach down, stroke his stiffening cock through his pants. He smiled against her mouth and deftly scooped her and laid her on the bed. She looked up at him with shining eyes, and he kissed her again.

  ‘Dinner’s at nine,’ he whispered, bending to kiss her throat, ‘So do you have any suggestions as to what we can do until then?’ He pulled her t-shirt, her skirt from her, burying his face in her belly.

  She grinned and sighed happily as he slid her panties down. ‘I have a few ideas,’ she said, gasping as he moved downward, biting gently down on her clit. His fingers were spreading the lips of her sex as he probed her with his tongue. God, the taste of her… Sam watched as her sex became red, swollen, pulsed with her desire for him. Moving to kiss her mouth, he gazed down at her, a smile playing on his lips.

  ‘Are you mine?’ he asked softly and began very slowly to trace the hollows of her sex with the tip of his cock, teasing her, tormenting her.

  Breathless, she nodded, moaning as he pushed a little way into her and withdrew. ‘Sam… please… please…’

  He pushed his cock a little further in… and again, withdrew. She almost screamed in frustration, and it thrilled him to see how much she wanted him.

  ‘Would you like me to fuck you now, Isabel?’

  ‘Yes…yes…’

  Without warning, he pulled her onto the floor, pressed her legs as far apart as they would go and buried his cock in her as hard as he could, forcing her hands above her head, thrusting with long, brutal strokes. It should have frightened him the way he could so easily lose control with her, hurt her, but Sam knew, in his heart that he never could, never would. They fit together so perfectly, read each other, knew each other already so well…

  Later, after a long, luxurious, and definitely X-rated soak in his huge bathtub, they were dressed for dinner. He was ready and pouring them a drink when she appeared in the doorway. His breath caught his throat. Her silky pale pink dress skimmed her hips, swept over the rise and fall of her breasts, clung to the curve of her belly so he could see the hollow of her navel. The tiny beads on the dress threw little sparks of light up into her face, into her lovely eyes, her dark hair was pulled softly over one shoulder.

  ‘You’re stunning.’ He said softly, and she smiled shyly.

  ‘I thought I’d dress up for you,’ she walked to him, placing her hands gently on his chest, reaching up to kiss him. Then she smiled wickedly. ‘Just this once – I wouldn’t want you to get complacent.’

  Sam grinned down at her. ‘Never. God, how I am supposed to concentrate on anything else when you look like that?’

  Isa laughed and took his hand, tugging towards the door. ‘Come on, horn dog, your brother awaits. Let’s not keep him waiting.’

  Sam let her drag him to the elevator. ‘He’d understand, believe me.’

  As Sam predicted, Cal took to her straight away, and Isa was glad that the young man seemed as easy-going and as friendly as his brother. The physical difference between the two men was striking; Sam, immensely tall and muscular, dark and angular. Cal was softer looking, his dirty blond curls wild about his head, his merry eyes full of mischief. He ribbed his brother on keeping Isa a secret; then pretended he didn’t know that they’d only met the day before.

  Isa took a slug of her drink, watching the two brothers bicker good-naturedly. One day. One day and her life had changed beyond measure. Because of him, because of Sam. It was almost unbelievable – in fact, she hardly believed it. The animal, unbearable need he had brought out in her and yet she didn’t know this man. She ignored the prickle of uncertainty, told herself; Zoe had known him for years and she trusted her opinion. Her de facto mother had raved about the man, told her and Seb stories of his incredible taste, his work ethic, his love of art and artists. Above all else, he’s an absolutely sweetheart, Zoe had told her with her eyes shining. Zoe wasn’t wrong.

  She just hadn’t expected him to be so… it was a connection she had never experienced, not just sexual, not just physical but even without knowing the minutiae of his life, she felt closer to him than any other person she’d ever met.

  She was pulled from her reverie by Cal, waving a hand in front of her face, and she smiled at the young man. It was weird; Cal was the same age as her – twenty-eight, Sam had told her – but she felt like his big sister.

  ‘Sorry, Cal, what was that?’

  He grinned. ‘I asked if you wanted dessert.’

  Isa grinned. ‘Oh hell, yes.’ Sam laughed at her eagerness and Cal nodded approvingly.

  ‘This one eats. Yep, I’m sold.’ He high-fived his brother, who rolled his eyes and looked at Isa apologetically, sliding a warm hand onto her thigh.

  ‘Please excuse my little brother, he has no filter.’

  Isa felt a little sting – ‘this one’ – but she laughed it off. ‘Bet I can eat you under the table, skinny boy.’

  Cal raised an eyebrow, smirking. ‘Challenge accepted.’ He raised his glass to them. ‘In any case, here’s to the both of you, and to your first show, Isa...’

  ‘I like him,’ she said later as they rode back up to his penthouse. Sam kissed her, her lips, her neck. He slid his hands under her dress, under the silk, and she laughed softly as his fingertips brushed her inner thighs, drifting upward to the soft mound of her sex.

  ‘I’m trying to tell you I like your brother,’ she protested. Sam grinned down at her wickedly.

  ‘Could you not talk about Cal when I’m trying to seduce you?’

  She grinned then rested her head against his hard chest, feeling the rise and fall as he breathed, the steady beat of his heart. She closed her eyes.

  ‘I feel so safe with you.’ She couldn’t help the words from coming out, and the hand that was gently stroking her ass stopped.

  ‘Why wouldn’t you feel safe?’ He tipped her face up to his, and she was surprised by the look
of concern in his eyes.

  ‘Oh, no no… sorry, I didn’t mean…’ she sighed. ‘I didn’t mean anything specific just that it’s strange. You feel like home to me.’ She flushed slightly but knew the truth of her words.

  Sam’s face cleared, and his eyes were soft. ‘Thank you. That’s a wonderful thing to say and to hear.’

  Later, as she lay in his arms, she stared out the huge windows to the starless night, rain constant against the glass, and thought about what she had said to him. Home.

  Until Zoe had reached out to her, given her a real place to settle when she was eighteen, she’d never known what it was to have a home. Her father, a military surgeon, had moved his family all over the world: Germany, Japan, Diego Garcia, before settling in D.C. He had never wanted children and viewed Isa as an inconvenience – her mother, dissatisfied with her life, neglected her only child, and so Isa grew up a solitary and shy girl, with her head always buried in a book. They didn’t even care that she maintained straight A’s; was at the top of her class in English and Math as well as Art, and was a budding activist. A teacher at her high school noticed her potential, her intelligence, and took her under her wing, inspiring Isa, at sixteen, to seek legal emancipation from her parents. They didn’t fight it. Although she as relieved to be free, it didn’t stop the sting of knowing they didn’t care. Soon, she had lost all contact with them, and she was truly alone. She worked as a waitress, saved her money and move across the country, away from everything she’d ever known and built a new life. The moment she set foot in Seattle, she fell in love with the place and knew this was where she was supposed to be. The second day of college, she met Zoe and found her family.

  Isa turned herself to face Sam. The hard angles of his face were softened by sleep. Isa studied his face intently, noting the curves of his brow, the pattern of scattered freckles and moles on his cheek, the color of his full lips and the slight flare of his nostrils as he breathed.