The Billionaire Bad Boy Club: A Bad Boy BDSM Holiday Romance

by Michelle Love

  When I realized I had to go to work, I developed a part of myself that pretended nothing had ever happened to me. I went to my interviews and I was the woman I had been before the accident.

  When I got the job as the manager of the spa, I put on a whole persona. That of a confidant woman with no troubles. Nothing personal ever comes up because I won’t let it.

  There are times when I’m walking down the hallways at the spa that I overhear the employees talking to each other about what’s happening in their lives. It almost always sends a twinge of need through me. A need to join them and get in on the comradery they all share but I leave myself out of it.

  I’m not an idiot. After two years of maintaining that nothing is abnormal with me, it would make the people who work under me look at me with wonder at how I kept that to myself for so damn long.

  The thing about keeping things to yourself is that there is a limit on the time you have to let others know about your personal trials and tribulations. What would anyone think of me if they knew I’ve been single handedly taking care of kids all this time? What would they think of me if they knew my whole family was killed and I’ve never told even one of them about it?

  I can’t even recall the number of times I walked in on conversations people were having about their kids and the funny things they did or the terrible things they did. I never made a comment. I never added anything about my kids.

  I’d simply give a smile and a nod and add nothing to the conversation. If I did then I’d be asked how I knew anything about kids. Then I’d have to actually lie and say I didn’t have any.

  I don’t consider myself a liar. I think of myself as a person who keeps their personal information to themselves. My therapist tells me I have to open up with other people. I tell her I do. I open up to her and the staff at the daycare. Well, I open up about some things with the staff at the daycare.

  They don’t need to know how I cry so much when I take showers. No one really even wants to know that!

  My cell screen lights up again and Carter says, “Aunt Mercy, are you going to answer that. It’s probably that man you were talking to a while ago.”

  With my eyes still closed because they feel better this way, I answer him, “It might be. I’m too tired to talk to him right now.”

  “Yeah, when I was sick, I was too tired to talk too,” he says then his little hand pats me on the leg. “It won’t last too much longer, Aunt Mercy.”

  “Thanks, Carter. And thanks for being so good while I’m sick. I really appreciate it, baby boy,” I say as I press my face into the pillow to keep myself from crying.

  I feel so weak and lonely, and sad. Most of the time I don’t allow myself to feel so sorry for myself but this damn virus is making me weak in every way possible.

  It’s been years since I was sick. My mom was the best at taking care of us when we were sick. She’d make homemade chicken noodle soup that would fill the house with the aroma. That alone would make me feel a little better.

  She’d bring the soup and saltine crackers to my bed and prop my pillows up and help me sit up. She had this tray she decorated with yellow daisies to perk up her patients is what she told me.

  I can taste the cold, bubbly lemon-lime cola she made us drink. She said the bubbles along with the citrus juice, which I think there was no real juice at all, made us get better faster.

  Maybe it did. I don’t know. I just know her tender loving care made me feel better. She had a way of making you feel loved with such small gestures. When we were little she’d cut our sandwiches into heart shapes with cookie cutters.

  When we were teens and hard to make happy at all, she’d surprise us with concert tickets every now and then or do a random load of laundry for us. Now that really made my day!

  Dad was different. More reserved with his affection. He loved us and he told us now and then but not like Mom did. No one left the house without knowing Mom loved them. No one!

  That woman loved everybody. But she loved Dad, me, and Hope the best. Until Cater and Mia came along. But once they came along, everybody loved them the best. Even Dad.

  He told those kids he loved them constantly. I can still hear the last words he said before they all left this house that night. “Pawpaw loves you.”

  How come they all had to be taken away?

  Chapter 6

  JUDE

  So it’s been fifteen minutes since I left the text asking Mercy if she wanted me to leave her alone forever. Still nothing!

  Jogging along the sidewalk in the humid heat, my suit is soaking wet. I’ve had several cars pull up next to me to ask if everything is alright. And I think I’ve ruined these dress shoes. And everything is Armani!

  Heading back to my car, I try to get it through my head that something’s wrong with Mercy. Something is wrong in her head. Very wrong and I know I should take her silence and set myself free with it.

  The woman has consumed me since I met her. My thoughts have nearly all had something to do with her. No woman has ever done this to me. Why does it have to be this closed off woman with apparent secrets?

  I’ve known tons of women. Women from all walks of life. Women of great beauty and poise. Strong women, weak women, and women who wanted me to make them my wife. None of them caught me the way Mercy has.

  Now, why is that?

  So I ask myself, is Mercy gorgeous?

  That answer is, yes. Her shiny blonde hair is full and wavy and smells fantastic. I think she gets her shampoo and conditioner from the spa. It has to be expensive and I don’t think she’s the kind of woman who shells out a lot of money on something as trivial as that.

  Her body is perfect. Soft where it ought to be and firm where I like it to be. Her laugh sends joy through me. Her smile fills me with butterflies and rainbows. Her voice can make me hard all on its own.

  She has this kind spirit. There’s a strength about her that I’ve never seen before. And just behind that strength is a weakness I’ve never seen before either.

  There’s been a couple of times now that I’ve held her and felt her body trying to tell me things her mouth wouldn’t. Her body has melted into mine with abandon. It’s felt as if it was letting me know she needs me but is too afraid to tell me that.

  So what is her problem? Why won’t she just tell me what the fuck is going on that has her so secretive?

  As I get to my car, I feel a little light headed and pull my suit jacket off. I think I may have gotten too hot. Getting into the car, I turn it on and turn the air conditioner on full blast.

  I may have overdone it in the suit!

  Then my stomach clenches and I have to open the door and lean out as all the contents of my stomach come out. With a moan, I lie my head back and feel as if the world is spinning.

  Crap! The virus has hit me!

  Sitting perfectly still to try to stop my head from spinning, I find myself unbuttoning my long sleeve shirt and opening it to let the cool air in to help my body cool off that feels way too hot.

  “This isn’t normal,” I say to myself. “I can’t drive like this.”

  So I make the call to Zeek. “Hey, bro. Sup?” he answers.

  “I need you to get someone to come with you. I’m going to send you the place I’m at and I need you to come get me and someone will have to drive my car home,” I say then feel my stomach lurch again and open the door and puke like I don’t recall puking before.

  “Have you been drinking, Jude?” Zeek asks. “It’s like three in the afternoon, dude. So not cool!”

  “No,” I say as I reach into the glove compartment for something to wipe my mouth with. “I have a virus. Mercy had one and I kissed her. What an idiot I am!”

  “Shit, man. You sound awful,” Zeek says. “I’m coming for you, bro. Don’t try to drive. Rose’s boyfriend is here. I’ll bring him with me.”

  “What?” I say. “That little user. Fuck that, Zeek. Not him”

  “Sorry, bro. No one else is home. So you really have no choice.
You can let him drive your car.”

  I cut him off. “No fucking way, Zeek.”

  “Or I can drive your car and you can ride in mine with him,” he finishes what he was saying.

  “I don’t even want to spend five minutes with the little British cock-sucker,” I say then another wave hits me and I have to open the door to puke again.

  “Chill, Jude. We’re on our way,” Zeek says then hangs up.

  After I get rid of things I didn’t even know were still inside of me, I lie the seat back and breathe heavily. As my head swims, I think about my poor, poor Mercy and how she must be so sick she can’t even see the text I sent her to be able to answer me.

  Then it hits me that I’m a selfish asshole who needs to be shot. Why did I send her that text at this time in her life?

  She’s sick! She really is. And now so am I.

  I call her and almost cry when I hear her answer, “Jude?”

  “Honey, please tell me you didn’t read the text I sent you.” I burp and it tastes awful and almost sends me into another round of barfing.

  “No, I don’t really like to open my eyes. They burn too bad when I do. I’m sorry. Here, I’ll read it now,” she says.

  “No!” I shout and feel bad that I did that because it really hurts my head. “Don’t read it. Delete it. I was being a selfish, fucking asshole when I wrote it. Ignore it. I didn’t mean any of it.”

  “What was it about?” she asks, sounding weak as hell and making me feel like complete shit.

  “It was about me being the spoiled brat you tell me I have been on occasion,” I say as I laugh then stop because it fucking hurts to laugh.

  “Oh, Jude, what did you text me?” she asks and I can hear the disappointment in her voice.

  “Okay, I’ll tell you,” I say. “I’ll come clean even if you won’t. I asked you if you wanted me to leave you alone, forever.” I wait a beat. “But I don’t care if you do because I can’t leave you alone, baby. I love you, Mercy. I fucking love your ass. I mean it.”

  “Jude, are you drunk?” she asks me.

  I laugh and stop very quickly. “No. You gave me your virus. You, nasty girl. But I love you, I really do.”

  “If I gave you this virus then your mind is about like when you’re drunk so I won’t hold you to what you're blurting out right now,” she says.

  “So you won’t tell me that you love me, Mercy?” I ask as I close my eyes to make the world stop spinning.

  “Jude?” she asks and I open my eyes and try hard to focus because I’d like to recall everything if she’s about to confess her love for me. “When I tell you those words, I’d like to see your face.”

  “Oh!”

  It’s not exactly what I wanted to hear but kind of close. “This feeling sucks, Mercy.”

  “The virus or what?” she asks.

  “All of it. Why can’t you tell me what your hiding? I swear to God I won’t judge you. I mean it. Just tell me, baby. I can take anything.” I belch then add. “Even if it’s that you have a man.”

  My heart stops as I wait to see if the virus will make an honest woman out of her. “It’s not a man.”

  Then what the fuck is it?

  Chapter 7

  MERCY

  Jude’s words are still ringing in my ears. I can’t believe he told me that he loves me!

  And I have no idea how I’m going to be able to get him to allow me the space I need to keep my family life separate from him. He’s more than persistent. He’s what I would call obsessive.

  He’s managed to gain a place at where I work in just a matter of days for the love of God!

  What the hell am I supposed to do about that? How can I continue to keep him away from my home and the kids if he’s insisting on getting close? How can I tell him that whether he loves me or not doesn’t matter, I still can’t give him any more than I already am?

  The kids slept in my bed with me. They wanted to cuddle with me to make me feel better. The little sweethearts. It helped too.

  I feel a lot better. Weak as hell, but much better. The doctor was wrong about one thing. The virus lasted only twelve hours instead of twenty-four, a thing I’m grateful for.

  His diagnosis of me taking too much on by myself is probably right but I’m not about to change anything about that yet. I made it through this two days of hell all alone with them, I can take more.

  Not that I’m asking for more!

  It’s five in the morning and I’m trying to decide if I should get up and try to go to work or take a sick day. I deserve a sick day. I have never taken one in the two years I’ve been at the spa.

  Carter rolls over and slaps me in the face with his little hand. It might be small but damn it, it still hurts. I roll over and shield my face from the kid and find myself looking at my niece, Mia.

  Her soft curls are in a perfect nappy mess around her chubby, round face. Her little rosebud lips are pursed as if she’s ready for a kiss. My heart fills with the love I have for her and I kiss her cheek.

  My decision is made. I’m staying home with the kids all day. We can order in some Chinese food for lunch and I’ll get some egg drop soup for us all to help build us back up.

  Sure, it’s not Mom’s homemade chicken noodle but it’ll do in a pinch. I think I need to learn how to cook better. I certainly need to learn how to make that soup.

  My cell phone lights up. So I sneak out of bed, careful not to wake the kids up and get my phone and head to the living room. Picking up my bottle of water, I head out and look at the phone which shows me that Jude’s awake and texting.

  I settle on the sofa and take a drink of water then wrap myself in the throw that’s laying on it. It seems he’s doing better and wants to know how I’m doing so I call him.

  He likes to hear my voice and I have to admit I like to hear his too.

  He answers, “Hey, gorgeous.”

  “Hey, you,” I say with a smile plastered on my lips.

  He sounds a little sleepy and sexy as hell. I bet he looks like a hot mess and man how I’d love to be cuddled up with him right now.

  “Thanks for the virus,” he says with a chuckle. “It’s the first thing you’ve given me.”

  “You are so welcome. I’m glad it was a short one.” I take another drink of water. “You are getting plenty of liquids, aren’t you?”

  “I have a mini fridge in here. I need a nurse, though. You think if I sent someone for you, you could come and hang out with me today? You know you’re not going into work.”

  Man, how nice that would be. Laying around with him all day!

  “Can’t,” I say.

  “I see,” he says then gets quiet.

  That kind of quiet that’s full of tension. I know he wants to ask me why but maybe he won’t since I’m still weak. I cross my fingers just to be safe.

  To change the topic, I ask, “So, do you still love me, Jude?”

  He chuckles again, sounding deep, manly, rugged, and sexy. “You recall that, huh?”

  “I do.” I laugh to let him know I know he was out of it. “The things you say when you think you’re about to die, huh?”

  “Mercy, I know I said it in a fevered fit, but I still have the same feelings. I do love you.”

  I let that hang in the air for a moment then say, “Jude, we don’t even really know each other to make that kind of a statement yet.”

  “Mercy, if you think I throw that little phrase around a lot I want you to know that I don’t,” he says. “And I don’t even want you to say it back until you mean it. But I want you to know that I love you. I have so many plans for us, it’s not even funny.”

  It’s not funny nor possible!

  “Jude, don’t make plans where I’m involved. You know when I’m available and when I’m not. Just because you said you love me doesn’t change that one bit,” I let him know.

  “Maybe not to you. Maybe not yet. But it’s changed something inside of me. I don’t think I’ve ever really loved a woman before. I know I�
�ve never thought about any woman as much as I think about you. You tore up my dreams last night, girl. You were all up in them. And that’s how I want life to be from now on. I want you all up in my life. Every aspect of it.”

  “Jude,” I say, stopping him. “That’s very nice to hear. It really is. If things were different, well, I’d love to hear you say those words. But things aren’t different. So, for now can we just take things slow?”

  His silence worries the hell out of me. Can he let this thing between us go slow?