Bad for the Billionaires: A Bad Boy Billionaire Bundle

by Penelope Bloom

  I bite my lip. “You know,” I say. “I kind of poured my heart out there, and all you’re going to do is say,” I lower my voice, doing my best imitation of him. “Yeah. Me too.”

  He grins. “Would you feel better to know I’ve never felt this way about a woman? Not Julianne before we were married. Not any woman since. You feel real. You’re great for Sophie and my mom, and hell, you’re great for me.”

  I kiss him, not without realizing it’s the first time I’ve ever initiated a kiss with him, and that small difference sets my heart pounding.

  “I can’t believe you,” I whisper after I’ve kissed him.

  “Well you better believe me,” he chuckles.

  “No,” I say. “I mean. You. I can’t believe you happened to me. You’re too good to be true. I don’t know what I did to deserve this.”

  He shakes his head. “Me too.”

  I laugh, looking down. “Jerk.”

  His hands are on me, urging me down to the ground. His mouth crashes into mine and my world is warmth and the sweet taste of him and the scent of his skin. I’m being carried away on the wave of the moment, as powerless to stop it as I am unwilling to.

  Somehow his shirt is off, and my pants are down around my thighs. His hand is tugging at them, urging them farther down. Neither of us are willing to end the kiss, and we kiss each other hungrily, desperately. Hands roam bare skin, tearing clothing free wherever it’s found and breaths mingling, hearts pounding together.

  I’ve never felt so connected to another person. It’s like I know his thoughts from the sensation of his hands and his mouth against me. I love you, his hands seem to say as they clutch the back of my neck as if unwilling to ever let me go. I need you, his body seems to say as it grinds into mine, seeking friction.

  It’s happening, I realize. The thought punches through the daze of passion that seems to blur everything else. Twenty-four years a virgin and tonight it’s going to change. He’s going to claim that part of me I’ve held back my whole life, the part of myself I’ve valued so highly I never thought to let anybody claim it until now. I feel none of the regret or doubt I thought I would feel though. All I feel is a tingling certainty that this is right. This is the man I am supposed to give my virginity to. This is how it is supposed to happen.

  He looms over me, hand planted on the artificial turf beside my head so that the muscles in his arm stand out sharply, powerfully. His bare torso is a study in perfection. There isn’t an ounce of fat on him, and every movement sets new groups of muscles flexing and on proud display. I let my hands explore him, feeling no shame in my desperation to touch and experience every last bulge of muscle and crease between his abs. I’m shocked by the ferocity of his strength. He’s gentle enough with me, but I can feel the potential energy practically begging to explode from the muscles just beneath his smooth, tanned skin.

  Somewhere between kisses and heavy petting and grinding, we both managed to get completely naked. It’s the first time I’ve ever been naked in front of a man--or beneath a man in this case--and surprisingly, I don’t feel ashamed or self-conscious with Liam. I know he has probably been with women who look better naked than me, but I know I don’t need to feel ashamed. I can feel it in his caress. I’m perfect to him. All he could want, and all he needs.

  There’s a heat and wetness between my legs like I’ve never felt. My core pulses, each beat of my heart sending a fresh burst of need to my center, and I think the only way I’ll calm it is with him inside me. But he doesn’t seem to want to give me what I want just yet.

  “You want my cock?” he asks, parting from our kiss just long enough to rasp the words into my neck.

  “Yes,” I gasp.

  “You’ll get it. You’ll get all you can handle, sweetheart. But not before I taste you.”

  I don’t even have time to register his words before he’s kissing a warm path down my skin, stopping to pay special attention to my nipples. He traces a circular path around my areolas with his tongue causing the sensitive peaks to instantly harden for him. I arch my back and a soft moan slips from my mouth.

  He kisses down my chest, beneath my breasts, and summons a quick giggle from me when he dips his tongue into my belly button. My laughter fades immediately as his hands slide down my thighs and he moves down more, kissing toward my mound but diverting at the last moment, just when I think his lips are about to fall on my throbbing clit.

  He drags his tongue along the crease where my thigh meets my hips, kissing the sensitive skin on the inside of my thigh. Every sensation seems to build toward an inevitable, fiery explosion of bliss. Each kiss and touch like a log added to the fire that is already burning out of control inside me. I can already feel how close I am to climax, and I wonder if he knows, or if he would think less of me for cumming so easily.

  He pauses with his lips just above my clit and smirks up at me. “You re--” he starts, but I surprise even myself by reaching down to press his face into me, unable to bear the anticipation any longer.

  Liam doesn’t need to be asked twice, and his tongue sets to work on me, circling, plunging, exploring, and dragging across my folds and throbbing bud. I throw my head back, unable to even comprehend what’s happening between my legs, except for the fact that I know in about ten seconds, I’m going to cum harder than I’ve ever cum. I’ve touched myself before, and it doesn’t even compare to this.

  “Liam,” I gasp. “I’m going to cum.”

  Encouraged, he doubles his pace and rips an orgasm so intense from me that my toes curl and my back arches, pressing my head into the ground as I squeeze my eyes shut against the force of it, body quivering and weakening as I come down from the high. But Liam doesn’t seem to want to stop, and he pushes forward.

  Only a few seconds later, I realize my body is more than ready to keep climaxing as long as he keeps this up, and I feel a brief sense of panic when I wonder how much I can mentally handle. I already feel so insanely good it seems hard to imagine more, or what it will be like to have him inside me, but that’s a risk I think I’ll somehow find the strength to take.

  He doesn’t relent until I’ve cum two more times in the span of what can’t be more than five minutes. I’m breathless and I feel dizzy when he plants his hands beside my head again and I see his huge cock poised between my legs.

  “I need you to relax,” he says.

  I raise my eyebrows. “I feel very relaxed right now, Liam.”

  He chuckles. “Good. Because this is going to be a tight fit.”

  He grips himself at the base of his cock and rubs the velvety head of his length against my folds, spreading the wetness from my opening across me and igniting a fresh explosion of warmth and pleasure across my body. He presses himself into my opening and at first there’s only a stretching sensation, I wonder how something that big is going to fit in a space so small.

  He pushes in and out, easing himself in fractions of an inch with every thrust. The slight sting of my core stretching to fit him gives way quickly to an unbelievable sense of completeness, of knowing I’m connected to him in the most intimate of ways possible, that right now we’re completely absorbed in each other.

  There’s a slight give when he is a couple inches inside me, and I distantly realize it’s probably my hymen. He groans with pleasure, as if knowing now he has really taken my virginity in the truest sense. I grip his broad back, digging my fingers into his hard muscle as he continues to push himself deeper and deeper inside me.

  It seems to take forever before he’s worked the entirety of his length inside me, but it feels more amazing than I ever guessed it would. He works his hips into me, finding a rhythm that has me on the verge of cumming again within seconds.

  “I’m going to cum again,” I gasp

  “Fuck,” he groans. “I love how easy you cum for me, sweetheart.”

  I blush, biting my lip and letting the explosion come again. Each orgasm seems more intense than the last, and this one has me gasping out so loudly that I’m wo
rried someone might have heard.

  Liam’s eyebrows draw together and he closes his eyes, pumping himself even harder into me. His grip on my hips tightens and he increases his pace even more until his cock is a blur of motion inside me, pistoning in and out. I’m already about to cum again when he squeezes my hips almost painfully tight and groans, leaning his head back. I feel his cock pulse inside me and a sudden warmth.

  Oh my God. He just came inside me. Even though I should be terrified because I’m not on the pill, the intimacy of it pushes me over the edge. My core clenches around his length, squeezing him tighter, as if my body wants to milk every last drop of his cum. He finally sags against me, grinning with satisfaction and planting a quick kiss on my lips.

  “Fucking incredible,” he says.

  I laugh. “I feel dizzy.”

  He chuckles. “You have no idea how hot it is that you cum so easily. Goddamn.”

  “That’s not normal?”

  “No, but it’s amazing. Never change, sweetheart.” He kisses me again, and I lean into the kiss, closing my eyes and wishing this moment never had to end, but the sky is already staining red from the rising sun, and I know we have to get our clothes back on and get to our room before some family with kids stumbles on the naked couple who just had sex on the mini golf course.

  “Oh,” I say, realizing there’s some blood between my legs and on him. “That’s so embarrassing. I’m sorry,” I say.

  “What?” he asks, “This?” he motions to the blood. “It’s fucking sexy as hell, sweetheart.”

  I would’ve expected a guy to be grossed out by it, and the fact that he isn’t sends a swell of emotion through me. It’s kind of a strange thing to like about a guy, but as someone who has always been a little insecure, knowing even my most intimate and embarrassing moments don’t gross him out means the world to me.

  “We should probably get back to our room,” I say. “Maybe we can take a shower together? I’ve always thought that would be fun.”

  “You read my mind,” he says with a smirk.

  I smile mischievously at him, even though my mind is going a mile a minute, trying to piece together how this all fits in. If he came inside me, he must be willing to risk a pregnancy, right? Am I ready to risk that? I don’t even know. I mean, my gut reaction is an emphatic yes. The idea of a baby, especially with Liam, makes my chest tingle and my head buzz, even if that’s completely crazy after only knowing him less than two weeks. But crazy doesn’t make it wrong. He’d probably want to marry me for real, then, and then Donna would have actually been right--this whole fiasco wasn’t always doomed to end in disaster. That would be one time I’d willingly admit she was right and I was wrong, even if it would put a smug smile on her face.

  A baby… A husband… I blow out a long breath as I follow Liam back to our room. I’m just glad he can’t hear my thoughts, because he’d probably think I was certifiably insane to be willing to have his baby or be his real wife this fast. But I’ve waited so long already, and I’ve been waiting for the right guy. I thought when I found him I’d know it, and I’m becoming more and more sure that I do know it. Liam is the guy I’ve been waiting for. He’s everything I’ve always imagined in the perfect husband. It’s perfect.

  Except of course the complication with his ex-wife and Jake. On one hand, Sophie could be taken away from him, on the other hand, Jake has been turning into something I don’t even recognize--something hateful and cruel and determined. If he keeps going down this path, I don’t know what he would stop at to get me back, or even to keep Liam from having me.

  The thought sends a chill through me, so I hold on tighter to Liam’s hand, letting his protective warmth soothe away some of my unease.

  13

  Liam

  Fucking hell. Aubrey has me acting like a horny teenager. Since I took her last night on the mini golf course, I’ve had her in the shower, in our bed, on the couch, on the deck of our room, and even in the bathroom by the buffet, and it’s only noon. The idea of sleep briefly occurred to us at some point during all of that, but somehow we never got around to it. I think a small part of my frenzy has to do with trying to distract myself from what happened yesterday.

  Linda saw me kicking the shit out of Jake and she saw me doing it in front of Sophie. I can’t imagine that’s going to make it easy for my lawyers to convince a judge that Julianne is lying about me. And I’m starting to have trouble seeing a future that doesn’t involve long, drawn out legal battles just to have the right to keep my own daughter.

  It’s doing a serious number on my mental health. For starters, I’m craving a business trip like nobody’s fucking business. All the chaos and factors out of my control make me want to plow into my work at full speed, to dominate every obstacle in front of me. Except I can’t. No matter how strong the urge is, I’m needed here too much. I know it means I’m not the perfect father by any stretch, but I’ve never been able to stay for more than a few days when the need hit me before. Even if it meant missing out on parts of Sophie’s life while I was away and forced to video call her instead of seeing her in person. I justified it to myself by believing I needed to scratch the itch if I was going to be a good father. I thought I had to be fulfilled and striving toward some kind of greatness or I would just be a shell of a man.

  I’m not so sure anymore. Even though I feel the call just as intensely as ever, something in me has changed because I’m able to section it off in my head. It could be that Aubrey is starting to fill whatever void the distraction of work was filling for me. Whatever it is, I’m just glad I can fight it now. My family needs me. Aubrey needs me. And I’ll be fucking damned if I’m going to let them down.

  We catch up with Sophie and mom at the buffet, and I can’t help from glancing toward the bathroom and recalling taking Aubrey in there less than an hour ago. I’m sleepy as hell, but there’s an excitement running through me that chases away the possibility of sleep right now.

  “You look sleepy, Daddy,” observes Sophie.

  “That’s an understatement,” adds my mom. “You both look like you could use a long night’s sleep.”

  “Nah,” I say, rubbing my eyes. “We’re good. So what’s the plan for today?”

  “We docked in the Keys,” says Sophie. “I want to get off the boat and cruise around the little town. See the sights. Touch the things. Pet the--”

  “Let’s do it,” I say.

  Aubrey is either glaring at me, or she’s falling asleep where she’s sitting, but she limps out of her seat to get another helping of eggs and orange juice. Thirsty, I note, and hungry. I feel a stab of guilt. I should have held back a little. It was her first time on the golf course, and whether she was just as starving for it as I was or not, it wouldn’t have killed me to give her some time to recover. My mom doesn’t fail to notice, and she shoots me a disapproving look, which I try to ignore.

  We spend a few hours exploring the island. The weather is perfect as we stroll--and roll, in my mom’s case--through the streets. The whole island has an aura of casual leisure to it, like time doesn’t apply here, like the stress and unhappiness of the real world never found its way to this place. Once we’ve made a run of the local shops and I have bought Sophie whatever little knick-knacks and souvenirs she wants, we grab a quick snack at a place that serves ice cream. Afterwards, we end up on a small beach we found by accident, which the main throng of tourists from the boat seem to have missed because it’s sectioned off by rocks on either side, and the only way to it was through a narrow alley Sophie wanted to explore.

  “This is gorgeous,” says Aubrey.

  “It’s so pretty!” squeals Sophie. “This is like the beach in that movie. The one where they get stranded and… Ahh! Why can’t I remember the name?”

  She wanders toward the surf and starts looking for shark teeth, which is about the only thing she ever wants to do at the beach. I help push mom’s chair to a place in the shade of a patch of palm trees, where she sighs contentedly and gazes out o
ver the water. It’s a rare sight, because my mom usually finds something to glare or grumble about.

  “Look!” says Aubrey, who is pointing to a hammock strung between two palm trees a few dozen yards from where my mom is sitting. “I’ve always wanted to try these.”

  “You’ve never been in a hammock?” I ask.

  “Have you?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

  “Probably,” I say, suddenly unable to remember if I have either. I climb in first and help Aubrey down beside me, and the hammock rocks softly while I hold her in my arms, feeling like I could fall asleep in about two seconds. And I guess I do, because when we got in the hammock it couldn’t have been much later than two or three in the afternoon, but when I open my eyes, the sky is stained red and purple, and the sun is dipping below the ocean in front of us.

  Sophie is lying on her stomach, building some kind of castle and plugging shark’s teeth into decorative positions, and my mom looks like she decided nap as well, because I can hear the rumble of her snores even though she’s a few dozen yards away. Aubrey snores softly on my chest, and I smile down at her, realizing I couldn’t even dream up a more perfect woman, not just for me but for my family.

  Aubrey stirs, sucking in a surprised breath and looking up at me.

  “Come with me,” I say, a sudden idea occurring to me and striking me with all the force of a thunderbolt. “C’mon,” I repeat, grabbing her hand and helping her out of the hammock.

  I lead her down the beach until we pass Sophie, who looks up curiously at us. Even Roxanne tilts her head up from her doze to look. The tide rolls in over our bare feet, cooling our skin. Aubrey looks up at me with mingling confusion and excitement. I blow out a breath. I should feel nervous for what I’m about to do. I could be reading her wrong and I could be about to embarrass myself completely. I should, but I’m not. I only feel the electric certainty that I’m doing the right thing. My family and the rest of the life I’ve been building may be on the verge of shattering, but this is something I can control.