Alpha Billionaire

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Alpha Billionaire Page 2

by Deborah Garland


  He swallowed and scrubbed his hands down his face. “Right,” he murmured.

  He unzipped his luggage. Expensive bags he didn’t put proper tags on, preferring to hide his real identity: a billionaire looking for a fling on his vacation.

  He’d already given Laney his real name. “For fuck’s sake,” he said, rubbing his forehead. Anonymity reigned supreme on the devil cruise. No one used their real name.

  He turned his thoughts away from his momentary lapse in judgment, concentrating instead on putting all of his crap away to get on with this cruise. The place where every year, he lived out his wildest fantasies for a week, then went back to his boring life working with Luke in their late father’s hotel.

  To light a fire under his ass, he reminded himself women were waiting for him. Him. The alpha. The one to be with. The one to please. That tasty brunette next door would be a nice treat.

  Tristan took in the suite’s separate bedroom. Large bed. Good. Tris got a little crazy in bed.

  When his phone rang, he groaned. “Yeah, Luke.”

  “Did that boat leave yet?” His brother knew what happened on these cruises.

  Luke had given him grief the first year after they took over the hotel. While his brother had been drowning, getting caught up, Tristan disappeared for a week of fun on the high seas.

  “Soon. What’s up?” he asked.

  “I don’t want to ruin your ability to concentrate and get a hard-on.”

  Tristan’s jaw twitched. He never had that problem before. “I’m listening.”

  “The offer from those crazy sons of bitches came in.”

  “And?” He’d been waiting to see what the developer would bid on The Sterling, the New York City hotel dumped on him and his brothers after their father’s death.

  He had mixed feelings about selling his posh five-star baby. Sure, it’d been more work than they had imagined, but their efforts were finally paying off.

  Before naming himself chief operating officer, Tristan had made a small fortune in the marketing consulting game, but running the hotel had brought out a different set of passions. The place could use some work, though. The Sterling needed a killer facelift and Luke didn’t want to make that commitment.

  No surprise. He didn’t secretly call his brother No-commitment Luke for nothing.

  “It’s sweet, man.” His brother sounded like a father whose kid just got into Harvard.

  That ‘sweet’ offer would drive a wedge between them. Shit, he felt his dick shrinking already. No, he didn’t want to think about the hotel. He wanted—no, deserved seven days of peace a year.

  “I want to make sure there’s Wi-Fi on that big canoe,” Luke added. “I already emailed you the paperwork to look at. Send me your comments.”

  “You mean you’ll read my emails this time?” Tristan’s ears pricked when he heard giggling next door.

  He shook the distraction away by hanging up his custom dress shirts and exquisitely tailored slacks. Looking like he stepped off a Tom Ford runway added to his alpha persona. His heart rate ticked up picturing that damn brunette tearing his favorite two-hundred-dollar shirt off his body.

  “You know my messages get buried,” Luke responded, bringing his thoughts back around. “Or Lucy deletes them by mistake.”

  “I’m tired of hiring assistants for you.” Tristan stopped mid-step. “Please tell me you’re not sleeping with her.”

  “No!” Luke huffed. “How fucking stupid do you think I am?”

  And if he’d tried, at least she had the good sense to turn him down. “Fine. Next time I have something important to tell you, I’ll ride up the elevator and bust into your penthouse apartment.”

  “Make an appointment, please.” Luke gave a throaty laugh. “I want all of this to be over, Tristan. It’s been a shit-show. I don’t know how Dad did it, to be honest.”

  “Running a billion-dollar hotel is easy when you don’t have a family to care about.” Tristan clenched his teeth as the anger he felt toward his father for leaving their mother when they were young flooded in.

  “He’s made us a ton of money. After we sell, we’ll be billionaires ten times over. Mom’s happy and safe in her Florida mansion.” Luke’s ‘living well was the best revenge’ excuse rang hollow.

  Tristan pushed away the bitterness. And thinking of Mom was the ultimate hard-on killer. “You know how I feel about this. If we invest—”

  “Save it. Haven’t you thought for a second what you would do with billions of dollars in cash that’s not tied up in this crumbling atrocity?” Sounded like Luke wasn’t itching to go back to his law firm, either.

  It’d been three years since they had their lives turned upside down by their father’s death. Tristan, Luke, and their younger brother, Grayson, became hotel owners overnight, a job none of them expected or wanted.

  Luke had snatched up the ceremonious title of CEO. Grayson, a rebel and struggling actor, brought a long line of dubious guests to the lobby bar, and always dashed away without paying the check. Or leaving a tip. That was his involvement in their father’s prized possession.

  With so many billions of dollars, none of them would have to work ever again. The billion or so they already pocketed had corrupted Luke enough. If forced to sell, Tristan might invest in something small and innovative—a start-up, perhaps.

  “We’ll talk more about it when I get back.” Tristan happily lived in Luke’s shadow on dry land, but this was his turn to be a god. “Have Lucy pencil me in for dinner.”

  He wanted to rip into those sex possibilities lined up and waiting for him.

  “You got it.” His brother cleared his throat. He and Luke were not all that different, only his brother screwed women nonstop throughout the year. “Oh, Tris?”

  Now how did Luke know that’s what women called him on this cruise? “Yeah?”

  “Lick some good pussy for me,” Luke crassly blurted then hung up.

  Tristan’s body seared hot, hard, and fast when his dirty mind pictured Laney and her gorgeous ass spread out before him.

  He dragged a hand through his hair. What the fuck? She wasn’t there for the same reason he was. He was sure of it. “A damn shame,” he mumbled under his breath.

  Those were some great tits he felt against his chest. All that perfumed hair...he could get lost in there. How would it feel all over his naked chest?

  Stop. Now. She’s not for you. She looked like a nice girl. That’s not what he wanted.

  Not this week, anyway.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Laney

  The ship left New York Harbor a little after four pm, sailing into the setting winter sun. Passengers gathered on the top deck and waited for the ship to glide beneath the Verrazano Bridge. It was a vision Laney had not anticipated. Onlookers, oh’d and ah’d and buzzed about how the bridge’s undercarriage would be spectacularly lit up at midnight right before they docked back at the pier. She made a mental note to catch it. It wasn’t something she’d see every day.

  Wanting to get out of the cold, she followed the smell of food with Nikki in tow to have their first meal. The freestyle cruising option allowed them to pick their dinner location, so Laney chose the premier restaurant. She liked its plush burgundy and gold carpet, the crystal chandeliers, and an entire wall of windows. Being a top pick meant other passengers waited hours for a table, but because she and Nikki were willing to sit with strangers, the host sat them immediately.

  A table full of nicely dressed women barely glanced at them. They were too busy looking at their phones. Until Adonis arrived. His appearance sent them into a frenzy. Was he a rock-star Laney never heard of? When the server handed him a takeout bag, he bolted, presumably to eat dinner in his cabin alone. A man that good looking dining alone?

  The ladies at the table finished their meals, wiped their mouths then took off. All without acknowledging the two pulses who just ate alongside them.

  After dinner, she and Nikki found an outdoor cafe with a killer dessert menu. The ai
r still felt chilly, but Laney’s sweater kept her cozy.

  The decadent seven-layer chocolate cake screamed ‘sin’ and exploded on her tongue. Nikki chose to drink her dessert, a zero-calorie vodka soda while the mountain of chocolate Laney climbed probably exceeded her entire weekly calorie intake.

  Telling herself that vacation calories didn’t count, she sank into a pleasure haze and took in the moonlight dancing on the ocean. All she could think about was Jonathan.

  Three years. Three long years since Laney put her dating life on hold for a man who, despite lascivious stares and brushes on the small of her back with his meaty hands, had never once crossed a line with her. Jonathan Costas always had a smile, a joke, and most importantly, her favorite donut from the coffee cart for his top designer. Laney, the woman with breasts and needs, was a ghost to him.

  It hadn’t stopped her from wanting him, a man she found so beautiful, so smart, and so good at selling her textiles, making it seem like he saw into her soul as she’d been designing them.

  But along with these cruise vouchers instead of cash bonuses, Brock Westmore, the greedy owner of their textile mill, had been making other cuts she didn’t agree with. After months of soul-searching agony, Laney had arrived at the gut-wrenching decision to quit the job she’d had since college in the coming new year. It was time to move on. Her talent, her highly sought-after award-winning designs, and recent classes to write manufacturing software gave her little doubt she’d land on her feet.

  Sexy Jonathan would soon be her ex-boss, and hopefully, he’d be putting her on her back. They weren’t in the office now, were they?

  She had a simple plan: Confess how she felt, but make it clear she didn’t expect any kind of relationship, although she’d be open to it. That week, though, all she wanted was sex. Hot, sweaty, dirty sex.

  This trip was do or die. Right after Christmas, she would hand in her resignation. The mill had simply gone in the wrong direction. Green and sustainable were the future, and that meant spending a little more money, the very thing Brock Westmore of Westmore Designs refused to do.

  Brock paid her well and she saved her money wisely. She could take time off and think. Consider her options. Maybe freelance her textile designs. Try to start up a little boutique firm.

  A squirt of sticky liquid hit her wrist as Nikki twisted a lime wedge above her drink. She shook the last bit of juices before dropping the wedge into the clear liquid. When her assistant licked her fingers, several men stopped and stared. Noticeably. After Laney glared at them, they moved on. Nikki was young and cute, and the little sister she never had.

  After a gulp of vodka that should have been a sip, Nikki put down her drink. “Have I told you how proud I am of you for going for this thing with Jonathan?”

  “It does feel good to take control of my life.” Laney fingered the napkin under her glass of dessert wine. “I can’t deal with this obsession anymore.”

  “I am so impressed with your courage.” Nikki pushed a loose curl of crystal blonde hair behind her ear. “God, I can’t wait to hear how Jonathan Costas is in bed.”

  “Your confidence I’ll get that far is encouraging.”

  “Why would he turn you down? Laney, you’re gorgeous.”

  “That’s the vodka talking.”

  “I’d do you,” Nikki said, then burped.

  “I’ll keep that in mind if my other options run out.” She inhaled the fresh ocean air that seemed to warm up with every mile the ship sailed closer to Caribbean waters.

  “He flirts with you like crazy in the office.”

  Laney soaked up all that adoration without digging into the meaning behind it. “I’m the mill’s top designer. Remember, too, he doesn’t know I want to leave the company. He might make a valid argument it will affect our working relationship.”

  “Just tell his whiny ass if he doesn’t get in your bed that will affect your relationship even more.” Nikki sounded drunk.

  “Pressure.” She narrowed her eyes. “I like it.”

  “Seriously, if you want to kiss a man, just kiss him.” Nikki slurped her drink down until the glass was empty. “That’s what I did with Jeff. Just walked right up to him at the bar and laid one on him. And now we’re engaged!” She held up a diamond ring so big it shot red and blue sparkles across the deck.

  “You’re twenty-five, size two, and adorable. I’m sure that had something to do with it.”

  “And you’re thirty-one, deliciously curvy, successful, and oh so sensual.” Nikki burped again. “I need another drink.”

  Laney cringed as Nikki stumbled to the bar. That one was going to be a handful. In a shockingly short amount of time, Nikki climbed back up into her seat with a fresh drink. “You know I hear that BDSM thing is fun.”

  She didn’t bother asking where that topic came from, praying a slimeball at the bar hadn’t propositioned Nikki. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she responded. Images of a hot man beating her ass with a belt brought on very confusing feelings given Laney’s state of sexual deprivation.

  A fantasy of Jonathan’s firm hand holding her head in place to suck on his cock shot into her head. The image quickly fractured into a million pieces when her sexy neighbor’s face and body swept through Laney’s mind like a wildfire looking for dry kindling to burn.

  Her heart leapt in her chest. “Check, please!”

  Her tipsy assistant was ready for bed. Laney hoped Nikki woke up with a headache and would curtail her drinking for the rest of the trip. She was on a mission and playing babysitter wasn’t part of the plan.

  Not this week, anyway.

  Tristan

  AFTER DINNER, TRISTAN trudged through the brightly lit corridor from the business center with Luke’s printed emails rustling in his hand. Moving back to his cabin, he took note of every woman who watched him and felt stunned when his skin pricked with unease.

  What the hell?

  Had this been any other year, he wouldn’t have opened his work email. He definitely would have left Luke’s obnoxious calls unanswered. Not this year. The real Tristan got wrenched out the minute he’d boarded. The maker of that mischief had soft skin and lavender-scented hair. She had a knack for tripping, and he couldn’t get her name out of his damn head: Laney. Tris, the dark lover who just wanted a week of fun, stirred angrily beneath the surface to come out while Tristan, the business nerd, uncharacteristically let work distract him.

  Seriously. What. The. Hell?

  “There you are.” A nest of blonde hair stepped in his path.

  “Oh... Hi, Cass.” He attempted to keep walking, but she pressed her tits up against him, blocking his path.

  “Where are you going? I’ve been looking for you.”

  Tristan froze. Cass was usually his first stop on the fling carousel. The emails crumpled in his vise-grip hold. Staring at her, his gut reacted with an astounding, Not with you! Something got to him. This buyout had to be messing with him.

  He lifted the bulky wad of paper. “Not now. Duty calls.”

  “Do you ever get to Texas?” She followed him out onto the pool deck.

  The question startled him more than the chilly temperature. “For what?”

  “For me.” She puffed out her chest. “You know, so we don’t have to wait until December every year to have our little fling.”

  He felt a what the fuck expression take shape on his face. “We don’t come here to start relationships.” He couldn’t imagine anyone on this cruise, male or female, wanting to be in a relationship with someone they’d just watched screw everything on two legs for a week straight. And no one on dry land would want him for a life partner if they knew what he did once a year. Would Laney feel that way?

  “I don’t want a relationship with you,” Cass said with a scoff.

  “Good to know. I don’t have a reason to get to Texas. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “See you around, Tristan Hart.”

  He turned around and glared. “How do you know my real name?”
/>   “Tristan Hart, COO of The Sterling, brother of CEO Luke Hart, total pussy hound, and Grayson Hart, actor with a drinking problem. Google is an amazing thing.”

  Tristan swallowed, feeling exposed. “What do you want?”

  “You, in my cabin.” Her low-cut dress and perfect fake tits should have made him hard as a rock.

  His breath stuck in his lungs. From the second he stepped on that damn ship he’d been off his game. The excuses came at him fast: You’re getting older. This is getting silly. You can have anyone back on land, too. You want Laney. The last rang the loudest and bit the hardest. No. It couldn’t be that woman. He refused to let anyone have that kind of power over him.

  He gave Cass a once-over, wondering what her real name was while he waited for his dick to chime in. It should have alarmed the hell out of him when it shrank.

  Tristan grasped his papers tighter. “Maybe later. Seriously. I have work to do.” He stepped around her and used his long legs to get away before anyone saw him turn down the hottest woman in his deviant group.

  Back inside the safety of his cabin, he tossed the stack of printed emails on his sofa, then paced. His head hurt counting the pages of the potential buyer’s offer letter. There were exhibits of room layouts for each part of the hotel, scaled down with key language he didn’t understand.

  Tristan’s throat itched. “I need a drink.”

  Laney

  AFTER DEPOSITING NIKKI in her bed, Laney still felt charged up. She’d never fall asleep with her assistant’s snoring and Laney wanted more of the night air. This was a vacation, after all. She had nowhere to be in the morning.

  Out in the bright corridor, her eyes drifted to her mysterious neighbor’s door. She didn’t know why she expected to hear a zoom-zoom-zoom or wild cackles. The pin-drop quiet made her worry. Did he choke on his dinner?

  Shrugging, she hooked a left for the elevator bank and took an uneventful ride to an upper deck to walk the length of the boat. The moon shimmered down on the glittering waves created by the massive ship. Laney drew a cleansing breath of ocean air, letting the salt filter out any polluted city muck still left in her lungs.

 

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