by Talia Hunter
She gasped and lightly smacked his arm, making him laugh.
“Oh yes, now I remember.” He sobered, and ran his hands over her upper arms. “Ally, I love you because you have the best laugh in the world. Because you’re the bravest person I know, and that crazy asshole ex of yours didn’t even come close to breaking you, though I have no doubt he gave it a damn good try. Because when you give me orders, your chin juts out and those little freckles on your nose are so damn cute it makes me want to do whatever you say.”
She chuckled. “Max, you—”
“I haven’t finished. I love you because your eyes go lighter and darker with your moods, and I’m getting to know exactly which shade means you’re hungry, which means you’re sad, and most importantly, which shade means that you’re horny. I love you because the first time I met you, you had tomato sauce on your T-shirt and you still managed to convince me you were a dominatrix. And because I could never have imagined falling in love with someone who didn’t know what a DeLorean was, but you never stop surprising me.”
“I watched Back To The Future last week,” she interrupted, laughing. She really did have the best laugh in the world.
“Well, that’s a relief. But I’m not finished yet. I also love you because you’re beautiful, and sexy, and your body drives me out of my mind. I love you because you’re the most exciting, thrilling person I could ever imagine making love with, and I love the way you catch your breath right before you come. Ally, shit, that little sound you make, it’s so hot, it always makes me lose control.”
With a visible effort she forced the smile from her lips, put on a mock serious expression, and raised her eyebrows. “Is that all?”
He shook his head. “Not even close.” He dropped his voice to a murmur and ran his finger over her throat to the swell of her breasts. “I definitely love you because of the way you look in this dress.”
She shook her head, pretending disapproval, but her eyes were sparkling. “Max, you said you had three things to say. What’s the third thing?”
“I’m glad you asked.”
He swung her off her feet and lifted her into his arms. She gasped and clutched him, then laughed. He kicked the door open, and stepped out into the sunlight. “My trailer is about a minute away, if I hurry. And believe me I’m going to hurry, because the third thing I have to tell you is that in two minutes or less, I’m going to need to find out whether or not you’re wearing any underwear.”
It didn’t take a minute, more like thirty seconds until he was pushing through his own door with her laughing in his arms. He laid her down on his small single bed, and his passionate kiss turned tender. He took her face in his hands and caressed her lips with his. She was here, and safe, and his. She kissed him back, her soft touch matching his tenderness, and a surge of thankfulness shot through him.
He drew away from her for a moment so he could look into her eyes. “I’ve missed you, my love,” he whispered. “I never want to be apart like that again.”
Tears glistened in her eyes. “Never, ever.”
No, that wouldn’t do. He wanted her to smile, not cry.
He nuzzled her ear, then his lips moved down the side of her throat to the base of her neck. He gradually drew the zip at the front of her dress down, releasing her glorious breasts.
“No bra,” he said approvingly.
She smiled at his satisfied tone. Good. Then she gasped when he took her nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue until it was hard. He savored it, pleasuring it thoroughly, before moving to the other one. Then he kissed and nibbled the sensitive underside of her breasts.
Her dress was only half undone, which meant there was still one nagging question to answer, one more thing he needed to know.
Infinitely slowly, he worked the zip the rest of the way down, until his answer was revealed. Max let out a groan of appreciation before kissing his way lower. Had any woman ever looked or tasted so good?
She twined her fingers in his hair. and he flicked his tongue between her legs. “Max,” she moaned. “Oh god. Max, I need you inside me.”
Max smiled, and rose to obey. Why had he ever been reluctant to take orders? Ally could give him commands like that for the rest of his life.
She helped him pull off his T-shirt and jeans, then he got up to grab a condom from the tiny bathroom. When he came back out, she was sprawled on the tiny bed, breathing fast, her hands above her head. His heart squeezed tight. She looked utterly lovely, and she was all his.
She sat up and reached out impatiently to pull him back down to her.
Correction. She wasn’t just his: they were each other’s. And that was exactly the way he wanted it.
Thank you for reading How To Master A Millionaire, book one in the Rich List Series.
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Also, look out for Geena’s story, coming soon in How To Boss A Billionaire. If you’d like to get notified when How To Boss A Billionaire and other new books are available, please sign up to my newsletter at http://www.taliahunter.com. You’ll be the first to know about giveaways, special offers, advance previews, and more!
In the meantime, here’s a special advance preview of How To Boss A Billionaire. I hope you enjoy it.
How To Boss A Billionaire
Chapter One
Ally’s Saucy Scavenger Hunt
You must collect one of each of the following (no cheating!):
01. A photo of a team member French kissing a male bartender.
02. A shot glass with a bar logo printed on it.
03. A photo of a bouncer’s left nipple.
04. A photo of a team member kissing a millionaire, celebrity, or public figure.
05. A stranger’s tie with 3 different colored lipstick kisses on it (must have been worn while kisses were applied).
06. A photo of the whole team dancing on top of a bar.
07. A pair of men’s boxer shorts with 3 different colored lipstick kisses on it (must have been worn when kisses were applied).
08. A photo of the whole team inside a male-only bathroom.
09. A cocktail menu that includes both Sex On The Beach, and a Screaming Orgasm.
10. A drink coaster with a brand of beer on the front and the signatures of 10 hot guys on the back.
Geena pulled her damp, drink-splashed copy of the scavenger hunt list from her purse and sighed. It was getting late and her team had been to five different bars. So far they’d only managed to collect numbers 1, 5, 6, 8, and 9. They’d ordered shots in each bar trying to get number 2, but none of the glasses had been marked with a logo. And now everyone but Geena was weaving.
Her sister Ally slurped her chocolate martini and stuck her elbow in Geena’s ribs. “You wanna see me get a guy’s boxers?” Ally slurred, tossing the cheap bride’s veil she was wearing back from her face. “I’m thinking ‘bout a fair swap. My panties for his.” She winked at a guy at the next table who turned bright red. The other women at their table broke up into helpless laughter, while Geena could only manage a stiff smile.
Crap. Geena had to try to loosen up. She was the one who’d come up with the scavenger hunt for Ally’s hen night, and organized Ally’s friends into three teams. She’d been looking forward to a fun time, but this morning she’d opened an awful letter from the IRS. Geena had felt sick ever since, and her stomach was too clenched to drink much. She’d nursed a cheap glass of wine at each of the bars, but every time she’d taken a sip it had seemed to burn down her throat.
What had possessed her to buy a sex store in the first place? Sure Geena had got the run-down, sleazy business for a song, but rent in Sydney’s bustling King Cross wasn’t cheap. She’d been certain she could make it a success just by renaming it The Gee Spot and giving it a makeover to turn it into a new kind of classy, sophisticated adult store tha
t would appeal to both men and women. Things had gone pretty well at first, but she hadn’t thought about the big shift towards online shopping. Not only were less people coming into her store, but she couldn’t work out why the money she was earning didn’t cover her bills. Paperwork wasn’t her strong suit and the nasty letter from the IRS was the last straw. If she couldn’t sort out the store’s finances and get more customers coming in, she was going to lose everything she’d worked so hard for.
Geena tried to shake her black thoughts out of her head and tune in to the good-natured argument that had started between Ally and the other team members.
“That’s cheating,” Ally was saying.
“Go on,” urged one of Ally’s journalist friends. “The bride’s team has to win. It’s like a tradition.”
Ally shook her head. “We’re too drunk, they won’t let us in. It’s a fancy party.” She tossed her veil over her shoulder. “Can’t embarrass Max by all showing up uninvited.”
“Geena can go on her own,” said Ally’s friend, turning to wave her drink at her. “She hasn’t drunk as much as we have. They won’t even notice her slipping in.”
Geena looked at Ally, her eyebrows raised. “Slip in where?”
“Max is at a fancy party tonight, a charity thing. Lots of celebs there, and not too far. You could quickly snap a photo with someone famous, then come back.”
“Number 4 on the list,” clarified one of the other team members.
“You’d better go now though,” said Ally, who’d obviously forgotten her objections against cheating. “We’ve gotta meet up with the other teams again soon.” Ally fumbled with her purse and pulled her cellphone out, spilling some of her drink in the process. “I’ll call Max and tell him you’re coming.”
“Will they let me in?” Geena asked, thinking about her bright pink hair. She didn’t exactly look like someone who’d be invited to a stuck-up celebrity party.
Ally blinked at her. “‘Course. It’s at The Diner’s Room. Know where that is?”
Geena nodded. She felt terrible for having lost her enthusiasm for her own sister’s hen’s party, and this was something she could do to make it up to Ally. Besides the evening would end more quickly if they managed to get all the items on the list and win the game. Then Geena could go home, crawl into bed, pull her pillow over her head, and scream with frustration.
One of Ally’s friends let out an excited squeal. “We’re going to win! Let’s get number 3. Did you see the bouncer? He’s super hot.”
Geena left them to it and went outside to hail a taxi. She settled back in the seat and closed her eyes. If business went on the way it was, she’d be bankrupt in a matter of weeks. If only she could just go back to her little apartment, take some antacid for her stomach, and look over her figures again, maybe she’d be able to come up with some new ideas. What was that cheesy saying — something about it being crazy to keep doing things the same but hoping for different results? Well, she’d just have to shake things up and change what she was doing. Somehow. She needed a miracle. Or at least a solution startling enough to really turn things around.
The Diner’s Room was a large, swanky five-star restaurant overlooking Sydney’s Harbor Bridge. The kind of place Geena couldn’t imagine ever wanting to eat at. She liked places with character that served tasty food and lots of it. What was the point of spending mega-bucks for a tiny mouthful arranged in the middle of a huge white plate?
Geena slicked on a fresh coat of lipstick before she got out of the cab. A security guard was stationed at the door of the restaurant, holding a clipboard. No sign of Max. Had he told the security guard she was coming?
Deadpan, the guard watched her approach, showing no sign of surprise at the way she looked. Points to him. Geena couldn’t imagine any of the party’s other guests had worn a second-hand, peacock blue, cocktail dress from the 1950s, or had shocking pink hair. She’d always been a rebel who liked to challenge people, and over the last few years she’d developed a bad-ass ‘deal with it’ stare.
“May I see your ticket, ma’am?” asked the doorman.
“I’m with Max Oberon. He’s expecting me.”
She had to give him credit, the only sign of disbelief he gave was a slight twitch of his left eye as he looked down at his clipboard. “Your name please?”
“Geena, there you are.” Max beckoned her inside and the doorman stood aside to let her pass. “I’m sorry, but I’m due on stage any minute. Got to do my duty.” He led her past a small bar that was at the entrance of a large room filled with elegant dining tables. Men and women dressed in tuxes and gowns murmured polite conversation over glasses of expensive French champagne. Geena wrinkled her nose. This place wasn’t her scene at all.
“You can have my seat over there.” Max pointed at one of the tables, but she couldn’t make out which one he meant. “This shouldn’t take long, and I’ll catch up with you afterwards.”
“Max, I just need a photo with—”
Too late. Someone had already caught his arm. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he flung over his shoulder at Geena as he was led away.
Geena looked around. Could she feel any more out of place? She couldn’t see an empty seat anywhere, and the lights were dimming. A spotlight picked out the stage where an MC had stepped up to the podium and was shuffling some papers. Quickly she crossed to the bar at the entrance, and sat on one of the stools.
“What can I get you?” asked the bartender, putting a small cocktail napkin onto the bar in front of her.
“Nothing, thanks.” She swiveled her stool towards the stage as the MC spoke into the microphone.
“Good evening again, ladies and gentlemen. We’ve already heard plenty tonight about what a wonderful cause we’re all here to support, so I won’t do more than remind you that over a thousand children nationwide need your help.” He looked down at his notes again, and the spotlight shone on his over-gelled hair. His suit was slick too, and he had a deep radio voice. Geena wondered if he was famous, and she was supposed to recognize him. Maybe a game show host?
“And now for the most popular part of the evening, the Charity Auction. This is where our brave volunteer celebrities step up to the auction block and you get to show how much you think they’re worth. The winning bidder will enjoy a special lunch with the man or woman they have purchased, right here at The Diner’s Room. We’re very lucky to have the absolute cream of the crop on our auction block tonight. So get out your checkbooks, cash in your retirement plans, and get ready to bag yourself a celebrity!”
Geena blinked. They were auctioning off celebrities? What kind of event was this?
“Our first volunteer on the auction block tonight needs no introduction. Highly acclaimed and award-winning star of Mastery, Lawrence of Arabia, and the upcoming blockbuster, Chosen To Rule, we’re very lucky to have Max Oberon here tonight.”
The large dining hall rang with applause and many women leaned forward or nudged each other as Max stepped onto the stage. Looking distinctly uncomfortable, he gave the crowd a wave. Geena stifled her first real smile of the day. Max and Ally didn’t spend much time in Sydney, but she’d got to know him fairly well and she liked him a lot. Why was it always so enjoyable watching your friends squirm? Whatever the reason, she was starting to be glad she’d come.
“Unfortunately, Max is getting married in a couple of weeks.” A few women in the audience groaned, and the auctioneer nodded sympathetically. “I know, it’s a tragedy. Still, if you win lunch with him, there may still be time to change his mind. Am I right, ladies?”
He smirked at the crowd. Geena grimaced, and saw an almost identical expression cross Max’s face before he managed to hide it.
“Now, who wants to start the bidding?”
The words were barely out of his mouth before a woman raised her hand. “One thousand dollars.”
Geena’s jaw dropped. A thousand bucks for lunch with Max? Jeepers, did the woman think he was going to turn up naked?
&nbs
p; “Two thousand,” countered another woman, and Geena snapped her head around in shock.
“Two and a half.”
“Three.”
The bidding climbed to nine thousand, and the hammer finally fell on a bid of nine thousand, three hundred and fifty dollars.
“Crazy,” muttered Geena. That was more than she had left in both her business and personal bank accounts combined, and the IRS letter had informed her she’d need twice as much to pay that unexpected tax bill that was due in a few weeks. How much money did these people have, anyway?
“You certain you wouldn’t like a drink?” asked the bartender. “They’re all free.”
Tempting. But her stomach still had a bad case of the IRS cramps. She shook her head, suppressing a smile at Max’s obvious relief as he was allowed to step off stage. Geena was already planning how she was going to tease him about being so expensive.
The MC consulted his notes again. “Our next volunteer was a surprise entry to the auction. His presence goes to prove that although he might have had a little bad press lately, Damien McCarthy’s a nice guy at heart.”
Someone in the audience gave a loud, fake cough, as though they wanted to heckle but were holding themselves back. A wave of murmuring went around the front tables. Geena straightened so she could see better. Who was Damien McCarthy that he caused this kind of reaction?
A man stepped onto the stage, his gaze scanning the tables where people still shifted in their seats whispered to each other. No, he didn’t just occupy a place on the stage, he owned it. As though the spotlight had narrowed so he was highlighted while everyone else went dark. Though he stood in a relaxed pose, he seemed as light on his feet as a martial arts expert. Or a wild animal. His dark features were flawless, his jaw dangerously square. Geena’s pulse sped up as he scanned the room with eyes that were far too challenging for an event like this. Geena was way in the back, in the darkness of the bar area, so there was no way he could see her, but as his gaze passed across her, Geena felt it like a electric charge. She caught her breath.