Billionaire's Valentine - A Standalone Novel (A Billionaire Boss Office Romance Love Story) (Billionaires - Book #7)

by Claire Adams

  I couldn’t hold back and started to thrust into her and felt myself get ready to cum. The more I thrusted, the more she took into her throat. It was hot as hell to watch, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

  “Wait,” she said, as she pulled her lips off of me. “A video. I want to take a video.”

  She pulled her phone out and propped it up on the edge of the bench as she wrapped her lips around me again. The video was just focused on her mouth and my cock, so there wasn’t any reason for me to worry about it. Normally, I wouldn’t allow any videos. But if she kept my face out of it, I didn’t mind.

  I let her take her video. What could possibly go wrong with a video that didn’t show my face?

  With my hands in her hair, I helped guide my cock deep into her throat. Harder and deeper she went, and soon I felt cum as it shot into her mouth. What a glorious feeling it was to have a woman take me that deep and swallow it all.

  Typically, a girl would let it spill out onto my cock, but Jen sucked it all up and swallowed it without a second thought. I really hoped she didn’t get back together with her boyfriend. She was the kind of girl I liked to keep in my phone for a lonely night.

  We did a little small talk and exchanged numbers. But Jen was quickly back with her friends, and I was left alone in the private room. She was a hot little number, and I wanted to get in touch with her again very soon. Maybe she could be a long-term thing. Maybe I had found the elusive friends-with-benefits type of woman.

  After I had cleaned myself up a bit, an overwhelming feeling of guilt shot through me. It wasn’t something that often happened with me, and I couldn’t figure out why it had happened at that moment. I needed another beer to wash the feeling away.

  “Really, Chase, already? It’s not even ten o’clock,” Carlos said as I walked out of the back room.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Chase pointed to my undone zipper and laughed. He didn’t care what I did and actually found it good entertainment most of the time. He just liked to razz me about my lifestyle every now and again.

  “Hey, I couldn’t turn her down,” I said as I grabbed another beer.

  “Seriously, man, you’re going to have to settle down sooner or later. You can’t party forever.”

  Carlos was recently married, so all he ever talked about was how much he liked it and how all of us should get married. Yet, in the very next breath, he would complain about his wife and all the things she asked him to do around the house. He was the worst salesperson.

  “Oh, shit, I wonder if that would work for my dad?” I said under my breath to myself. “He wants me to be responsible.”

  “If what would work?”

  “My dad freaked out on me and cut me off even more than he had before. He said I need to show I’m responsible and have my life together, or he’s not handing the company over to me later this year.”

  “Seems reasonable. You’re not really the working type. Why do you want the company, anyways?”

  “Because he needs money to pay off Escabar,” Mathew said as he joined us.

  “Chase! You owe Escabar money?” Carlos’ face said it all. He knew just as well as I did that owing Jose Escabar was a very bad thing.

  Truly, I hadn’t thought things would have ever gotten to the point they were at. I thought I could borrow a little from Escabar, keep my lifestyle going, and my dad would give up his plans to cut me off. But the loans to Escabar had continued to add up. Now, I had gotten myself way over my head and didn’t have the finances to pay him anything more than the interest payment. And, I had to pay more than the interest payment if I was ever going to get out of debt.

  “Yeah, but don’t worry. I’ll pay him back,” I said with as much fake confidence as I could muster up.

  “Or you’ll get killed,” Mathew added.

  “He won’t kill Chase. There’s no way to get the money back, then. Escabar prefers to mutilate and debilitate people first.”

  Jose Escabar was well-known in our community as having a direct link to the Mexican drug cartel. His work around Atlanta was mostly drugs, but he also dabbled in some other areas. He had money, and lots of it, so if you ever needed money fast, he was the person to go to.

  The problem with borrowing money from Escabar was that his interest rate was steep. For a $100,000 loan, my rate was twenty percent a month. That added up quickly, and I currently owed almost $200,000.

  Normally, that kind of money would have been easy for me to come by. But since my father started tightening his wallet, it had been tough. I couldn’t even make the last interest payment. That’s when Escabar started with his threats. I promised to get caught up by the end of the month, but things were looking pretty grim. There was no way I would be able to make an interest payment this month, and that was going to be horrible.

  “What do you mean you wondered if it would work for your dad?” Carlos asked.

  “Oh, if I got a relationship. I wondered if that would make my dad feel like I was responsible.”

  “Just order one of those hot Russian brides and get married. Your dad would have to see you as responsible, if you were married and shit,” Mathew said jokingly.

  “I know you’re joking, Matt. But seriously, Chase. If you want to show commitment and that you can be responsible, getting married might be a good idea. But I wouldn’t tell him you bought her over the internet,” Carlos said seriously.

  We all laughed at the idea, except Mathew seemed a little serious when he started to pull his phone out and show us an app.

  “You don’t buy them. It’s an actual dating website. You just meet nice girls who live in the middle of nowhere and really want to have a different life.”

  “Mathew, you seem to know an awful lot about these mail-order brides,” I said as I punched him in the arm.

  “I was on a few of those dating websites before I met my girlfriend. There are a lot of really nice women there. At least, the ones I talked to. You have to avoid the ones who are asking for your money and want you to send it over to them. But other than that, you should totally check out OK Love. I bet you’d find some smoking hot women on there.”

  I punched the website into my phone to check it out. What would it hurt to take a look at it? I really had nothing to lose.

  For the next hour, we continued to drink and set up my profile in search for the perfect woman. Well, the perfect woman that three drunk guys could describe. I made a mental note to go back into the website in the morning when I wasn’t drunk and re-read everything we put in.

  “You might just find the ideal woman in Russia. Those girls are quiet and love to listen to their men. She’ll be at home making dinner for you. Ready to fuck you every night. Maybe I should exchange my wife,” Carlos joked.

  “I don’t think I need a Stepford wife. I’d just take a nice, cute girl, though. We could get married and put on a little show for a bit, then, divorce in a year or two down the road. She’d have her green card, and I’d have my company.”

  “This actually seems like a really good plan,” Carlos said.

  “Yeah, sometimes I come up with good ideas,” Mathew added.

  In our drunken stupor, we added a ton of women to my favorite list. There were some seriously smoking hot women on that website. I’d be happy with most any of them. But there were a couple who stood out for me.

  “Are you sure none of these are fake profiles?” I asked. “This girl says she lives in Liechtenstein. I don’t even think that’s a real country.” We all laughed.

  “It’s somewhere by Switzerland, I think. Really small, like the size of Washington, D.C.,” Mathew added.

  “Well, I might send her a message later or something. She seems halfway interesting, but fake.”

  “Send them all messages and see who can speak English. That was my biggest issue when I was on there. I saw a lot of super-hot chicks, but not too many of them could speak English well enough to communicate,” Mathew added.

  “Well, if you’re
just wanting to bone them, I guess that wouldn’t matter,” Carlos said.

  “The problem is, with them being so far away, you really do need to be able to talk to them. You can’t even see if you get along if they don’t speak at least a little bit of English.”

  “Give it a go. Send her a message,” Carlos said as he grabbed my phone and started to type a message into the phone.

  “No! I’ll do it.”

  I grabbed my phone back and typed in the most ridiculously short message: Hi, I’m Chase. I’d love to talk.

  Meeting women online had never been a necessity for me, so I just didn’t know what to do or say. Part of my appeal was the in-person conversation and flirting. I wasn’t sure that would be able to portray who I was over the limited capacity of the internet.

  Chapter Six

  Jordan

  The morning after Ana left was one of the loneliest I had ever had. Without work to keep me busy, I just lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. My whole life had changed in the last couple of weeks, and I felt like I was on the edge of a big change to a new life. The problem was I knew that new life couldn’t possibly happen if I stayed in Liechtenstein.

  Most of my day was spent doing absolutely nothing. I lounged around in the emptiness of my apartment. It felt emptier than it ever had before. I had even been home for a week without my mother before, but I always knew she was coming home soon. This time, it was different.

  I lay in bed for the first few hours. Then, I got up and cleaned my tiny apartment and made some lunch. There was no motivation at all inside of me. I hated my apartment; I hated my life without Mom and Ana around.

  Before they left, I thought of myself as a confident and outgoing woman. But that day spent alone in my apartment, I suddenly realized I wasn’t the person I thought I was. A confident woman would be ready to move forward, even if she was alone. For me, that confidence had totally disappeared, and all I could think about was finding someone to keep me company.

  Reluctantly, I logged back into OK Love and looked through my messages. I groaned at some of the guys and how hideous they looked. Of course, looks aren’t everything, and I was totally willing to give a nice guy a chance, but a 300-pound, sweaty guy who didn’t even clean himself up for a picture – that was just not going to happen.

  Then, I ran across Chase.

  He described himself as a bored billionaire who needed a partner by his side.

  Fake.

  But for fun, I continued.

  “I’m twenty-nine, single, with blue eyes, and I’m six feet tall. I party way too much and use my father’s money. I live in Atlanta, Georgia, and, despite my current lifestyle, I would love to meet my partner and see if settling down suits me.”

  At least he was honest enough to say his money came from his father. Surely if someone was going to make a fake profile, they would say the money was their own. But money wasn’t all that important to me. Obviously, I didn’t want to be homeless when I got to America, but a small, one-bedroom apartment like the one I had at the time would be suitable.

  His message said that he wanted to talk. So, I figured the best way to see if he was real or not was going to be talking to him on the phone. If he was fake, he would make some sort of excuse not to talk on the phone. If he was real, well, if he was real, he would have no problem having a phone conversation.

  “Hi, I’m Jordan. Call me if you want to talk.”

  I gave him my phone number and suddenly felt more confident than I had all day. I continued to go through some of my messages and replied to a few other guys. I was browsing profiles when a very long number called my phone. It was a U.S. country code.

  My whole body froze as I looked down at my phone. It had only been a couple of hours, and I had not expected Chase to call me. I stared at the phone and then, finally, answered it right before it went to voicemail.

  “Hello,” I said in my best English.

  “Is Jordan there?” a man’s voice said.

  His voice was velvety and sweet. My whole body tingled when I heard it, and I instantly felt like he was exactly who he had said he was on his profile. It was weird that someone’s voice could or couldn’t match the picture they had on a profile. But for whatever reason, Chase’s voice did seem to match.

  “Yes, this is her.”

  “Wow, you sound beautiful,” he said.

  “Is it possible to sound pretty?” I giggled.

  “Oh, yes. I think it is. I’m going to stick to my guns and say you sound beautiful.”

  My whole face flushed, and I felt my knees get wobbly as I heard him talk. His deep voice was seductive even though he wasn’t saying anything that was particularly enticing. It was how he drew out his words and took his time with each sentence. Chase sounded like the kind of southern man I heard about in movies.

  I had to sit down.

  As much as I wanted to talk to him, I couldn’t think of what to say. My nervousness had overcome me, and I just sat quietly, waiting for him to keep talking. But apparently, nervousness had gotten a hold of him, as well.

  We sat in silence for a minute, and I had to pull his profile up on my computer so I could remind myself of the things he had said about himself in his profile. His profile pictures were very handsome and his voice matched – so far, things seemed to be leaning toward this guy was actually real.

  “Thanks for calling,” I said quietly.

  “Thanks for giving me your number. You know, I thought you were a fake profile. You seem too beautiful to be on any dating websites.”

  “Wow, that’s a good line,” I said as I laughed.

  “No line. Total seriousness.”

  “You can’t tell me you haven’t said that exact same thing to every girl you’ve talked to from that website?”

  “Oh, that’s true. I’ve said it to every girl I’ve talked to from OK Love. But the thing is, you’re the only girl I’ve talked to.”

  I was stunned into silence and quickly scanned through his profile to see when he joined the page. To my surprise, he had literally just joined the day before and, like me, was totally new to the OK Love world.

  “You haven’t talked to anyone else?”

  “Nope. By the way, why is your English so good?” Chase asked me with suspicion in his voice.

  “Oh, I’m really a suburban housewife from the States and just pretending to live in the tiny country of Liechtenstein.”

  Many times people asked me about my English and why it was so good. The truth was I really liked English from the moment we started to learn it in school. Plus, I was a big fan of all the American culture television shows, movies, and music. Most of the things I watched were in English, and I really felt like it was a solid second language for me. I didn’t even have to think very much about what I was saying before I said it.

  The silence that followed my little joke made me very uncomfortable, though. I really hoped he didn’t think I was being serious. I liked to joke around a lot and anyone who knew me would say that it was one of my best qualities, but I wondered if Chase thought I was being serious.

  “It was a joke,” I said.

  “Oh, I know. I was just busy feeding my catfish.”

  I laughed way harder than I probably should have laughed. His reference to the MTV show Catfish was something that made so much sense to me. MTV was one of my favorite things to watch from America, and I watched every episode of Catfish.

  The show was about people on the internet pretending to be other people and then, when they finally got to meet them, they were surprised. It was the perfect comeback to my comment, and I loved that Chase had a good sense of humor.

  “Very funny,” I said through my laughs.

  “You might think I’m a total pervert when I say this, but would you mind if we Skyped?”

  At first, the idea seemed like a good one. I could see him and see if he really looked like he did in his pictures. But then, I realized he would get to see me, as well, and I had spent the day cleaning and loungi
ng in bed. My hair was hideous and my face all oily; I needed some time to at least take a shower.

  “I was just about to hop in the shower. Could we do it in an hour or so?”

  “Definitely, but I’m going to actually call in an hour, and you better answer.”

  “I’ll answer.”

  We both sat on the phone for another couple of seconds before I just decided I should hang up. It was awkward and I probably should have said goodbye or something, but I didn’t. The whole idea of talking to someone as a first date was really weird. I wasn’t sure it was going to work out for me. I liked to see someone, touch them, and feel the chemistry between us. It wasn’t going to work that way with a guy from across the world.

  As fast as humanly possible, I finished cleaning up my apartment and got into the shower. I thought about how I should wear my hair and how I should dress to meet him for the first time. I knew he would want to see my apartment, and I would have to show him around via the camera, but I hated that he would see just how horribly I was living.

  My nerves were going crazy as I dried my hair and put just a touch of makeup on. I didn’t want to look totally done up and like I was trying to impress him, but I also couldn’t look like a slob, either. My heart raced as I waited for him to call me.

  I finished getting ready and logged into my Skype account on my phone. It wasn’t the best connection over the cell service towers, but it was the only internet I had that could Skype. My internet in the apartment complex went out constantly, like every couple of minutes. I had tried to Skype with my mom from my laptop, and it hadn’t worked at all.

  I stared at my phone as the call came through. My nerves felt like the same as they did when I had gone on first dates before. I tried to take a few deep breaths and relax before I clicked to answer the call.

  My heart pounded in anticipation, and I slowly reached up and clicked to accept the call. I sat there and stared at my phone as I waited for his picture to come across, and then I saw my own reflection and repositioned myself so I didn’t look quite so crazy.