Jewels And Panties: (Book 1-15) Billionaire Romance Series

by Brooke Kinsley

  “Be careful,” he said.

  He left me alone with my vodka, which I poured into one shot glass after another, sliding them down toward the boys who didn't seem too annoyed at my presence anymore.

  Elvis was still on the jukebox. The truth was that he was starting to annoy me. I wanted something more upbeat, more modern. I wanted a filthy bassline and a kick drum that made my heart thump.

  "Hey, you okay there miss?"

  A voice came up from behind me. A skinny boy with a pale face placed a hand on mine.

  "I'm doing just fine," I said.

  His grip on my hand tightened with his eyes moving down to my arm. I'd been trying to scratch through it for the last half an hour and a crimson spot was now bursting its way through the gauze like a liquid rose petal.

  "You itching?" he asked.

  His voice was weak and quivering. He was barely more than a child.

  "Yeah... Why?"

  "My dad can help," he said, his eyes now focusing on my breasts. I looked down and saw the corner of the money poking out.

  "Is your dad here?" I asked.

  He shook his head.

  "I can drive you to him," he said. "My truck's outside."

  I didn’t like the sound of that. I may not be the smartest but I wasn’t just going to let some kid drive me to any God damn place.

  “Tell him to meet me at the motel. Room number three.”

  He nodded and glanced over to the old guy behind the bar.

  A dozen pairs of eyes were burning into the side of my face. I turned my head and saw the group of guys watching us, a few of them shaking their heads.

  "Don't mind them," said the boy. "They don't like outsiders too much."

  I glanced back over and saw the darkness in their eyes. Remembering what the curly haired guy had said, I suddenly understood what he meant. This wasn't a safe place. Something told me these men could turn into animals once they got more liquor in them.

  "Let's go," I said and took the kid's hand. "The music in here's shit anyway."

  ~

  The pain in my veins was unbearable. They were burning with a thousand maggots itching beneath my skin waiting to burst out. Worms were swimming in my stomach, squirming and groaning with a sickness I'd not felt before. I fought the urge to vomit and gripped hold of the bedsheets, staring at the door waiting for my savior to shoot me up with an arm fool of gold.

  I didn't know how long I'd been waiting there. Through the sweat and mismatched daydreams, it could have been an hour or an entire week. I shivered again and gripped the sheets until my fingers ached. At last, when I could take no more and I thought my sanity would disintegrate, someone knocked on the door.

  In spite of my weak body, I jumped up and tore the door open. I didn't know what I was expecting the boy's father to look like but this wasn't it. Part of me assumed he'd be just like those chubby, calloused hicks back at the bar but the man in front of me was gorgeous.

  Dark, almost liquid eyes stared at me through the darkness set deep within a tanned face. His skin was smooth except for a solitary scar that snaked up the side of his cheek before slinking into his hairline like a python escape through grass.

  "You look in a bad way, honey."

  "I am," I said, my insides melting at the sound of his low, gravelly voice. "Come in."

  His boots weighed heavy on the thin carpet and as he walked in, his eyes remaining on my body. He liked what he saw and from the way he licked his lips, he looked just as hungry as I was.

  "Where is it?" I begged, pushing myself up to him.

  He laughed and reached into his pocket.

  "How much you looking for?"

  "Whatever you got," I replied and thrust an indiscriminate amount of money at him.

  "Woah! Didn't know we had a bigshot in town," he said and took the fistful of fifties.

  If he wasn't sweet on me before, he was now. He stroked my arm, a soft caress I'd been desperate to feel for so long. Lying me down on the bed, he leaned over me and snapped off his belt, all the while stroking my hair and settling me down. I shook beneath his touch with both sickness and excitement.

  When he fastened the belt around my arm and produced the small plastic pouch of brown powder, I knew I was only seconds away from heaven.

  "Shhh..."

  He tucked my hair behind my ear and flipped open a metal box of needles.

  Closing my eyes, I thought about the pleasure I was just about to feel and smiled.

  "Shhh..."

  I barely noticed the needle penetrating my skin. All I noticed was the velvety ecstasy that kissed my body as I fell down and down until the pain dissolved and there was nothing inside me but bliss.

  When I opened my eyes, he was still sitting beside me, still licking his lips.

  "I love a man with a scar," I said, feeling as though I'd been reborn.

  For the first time in days, I could think straight. I was actually starting to feel normal.

  "Chicks dig scars," he chuckled.

  His hand was on my thigh, moving its way up.

  "What's a girl like you doing here?" he asked. "Did you come for love or money?"

  "Both," I replied.

  He smiled and moved his hand up further.

  "Are you here for long?" he asked.

  "I doubt it."

  "Do you want me to leave?"

  "No. Stay. I need you to stay."

  His hand moved even further up until his fingers were popping open the buttons of my jeans and pulling down my zipper.

  "Make love to me," I said. "Fuck me while I'm still here."

  He slid off my jeans and bent down to kiss me, his breath tasting like whiskey and cigarettes. Groaning as he lay down on top of me, his cock was solid already, begging to be pushed inside me.

  "You have the biggest tits," he said and took one in his mouth. "You're gorgeous..."

  His words trailed away as I drifted away to someplace faraway and divine.

  I opened my legs for him and felt the heat inside me.

  "Fuck me," I whispered and raised my hips to meet his.

  He groaned again, this time in agony of being teased and tortured. He ripped his jeans down and pulled out his cock. I didn't have time to see it before he was burying it inside me, thrusting it in hard.

  It felt so beautiful I could have cried, digging my teeth into the side of his neck as I shuddered against him. I needed more, needed it harder.

  "Like that. Like that!"

  He fucked me harder until the pleasure began to border on pain but I didn't care. I needed more!

  "Harder!"

  He yelled as his buttocks clenched tight, breathing into my neck as he ejaculated. He pulsed inside me and I tightened myself around him. He let out a grunt as I began to writhe once again, his dick now too sensitive to be touched.

  "You've got the sweetest pussy," he said as he pulled out and zipped up his pants.

  "I know."

  For a long while, we lay in the dark until the auburn light of the morning sun began to blossom through the blinds.

  With heavy eyes and a hesitant smile on his lips, he rolled over and reached for his belt.

  "One more for the road?" he suggested. "I gotta make a move.”

  Before I could say a word, the belt was around my arm again and I was floating away on a brown cloud of paradise. But just as the pleasure took over my body, something else began to happen. My heart beat a little faster than usual and my chest became strained and cramped. Something felt wrong.

  "See you later, pretty angel," he said and kissed me one last time.

  "Wait, don't go."

  "Sorry, sweetheart. I gotta go. Thanks for a great night."

  "Wait! Please stay."

  But he was walking away with that dumb smile on his face growing wider and wider. As he reached for the door handle, something glinted in the light. I blinked a few times to focus and saw the flash of gold. In a panic, I clutched a hand to my chest and realized the money clip was gone.
r />   "Hey!"

  He walked away and a second later, I heard the sound of a key rattling against the door as he locked me inside the room.

  "No! Bastard!"

  I tried to stand but couldn't even raise my head. My vision was growing blurry again, my heart beating faster and faster until my chest began to hurt. My lungs tried to pull in a breath but it was like they were filled with acid. I gulped and gasped, shook violently and tore at the headboard but still, no air could enter my lungs.

  Images flashed in my mind, memories I had long ago discarded. I saw my mother's face as she sat on the floor to play with me. I saw the way she laughed in the kitchen as she baked her famous chocolate fudge cake and sang along to the Carpenters on the radio.

  Then I saw my father's face and the way his face could distort with anger. I saw the way his hands clenched into fists and how the bruises never seemed to heal no matter how much ice mom held to them. But I wasn't angry like I used to be. A sense of understanding came over me. I didn't care about him anymore. I didn't care about anything at all.

  The pain in my lungs reached a sickening crescendo as my body was clenched by spasms. I coughed with my whole body jerking forward like I was being electrocuted. Tears streamed down my face but I wasn't crying.

  Then the pain vanished but I didn't know why.

  I closed then opened my eyes and saw only blackness. The steady feeling of the bed beneath me began to shimmer and fade away. I was weightless, growing cold, shrinking into nothingness.

  The last thing I remembered as I lay dying was that I forgave everyone for everything. I even forgave myself.

  Chapter Eight

  LINCOLN

  The sun was rising over the tops of the buildings burning the frost off the roofs. I'd been sat in my car all night. At first, I'd driven like a madman, hell bent on going anywhere. I didn't know where I was going or what I was doing. I was blinded by my desperation to find Etta but didn't know where to start looking.

  I had come to the realization that I was being hindered by my own stubbornness. There was no way I could do this alone and needed help. The White Vultures may not have been my first port of call but if they knew what they were doing then they knew more than me. I was getting too emotional, was struggling to think coherently.

  Back at the motel, I had one last thing to do. Pick up the petty cash I'd left in my room and see if that crazy bitch Chrissie was still in town. There weren't words to describe what I thought of her but for some reason I couldn't explain, there was a human side to me that wanted to see if she was still here.

  Parking up in front, I caught sight of the woman from the previous night yawning and making her way into the reception.

  "Good morning!" she sang as I stepped out the car. "Well, it looks as though someone had a good night as well."

  "Eh?"

  "Been out partying? You look like you've just been dumped here by a tornado."

  "Erm... Yeah. Crazy night."

  She gave me a curt nod and headed inside.

  As I approached the door to room three, the hair along the backs of my arms stood up on end. I shivered and rubbed them back down thinking my exhaustion was getting to me. I was feeling so cold, so tired.

  Unlocking the door and walking inside, I expected to see the room empty with Chrissie long gone. But something hit me. A smell. A sensation of something dark lurking within the room. The taste of death in the air.

  I flicked on the lights and saw her body flat on the bed, her jeans pulled down and her top around her neck. Her skin was almost blue. I took one step closer to the bed and noticed the white foam that had bubbled then dried around her mouth.

  There was no time to be shocked. There was no time to feel anything at all. I simply backed out the room, locked the door and walked back to the car.

  "Jesus fucking Christ," I said under my breath as I twisted the key in the ignition. "If things couldn't get any worse..."

  The receptionist waved out the window as I left and I waved back, eager to look normal. I was about two miles out of town before I realized the enormity of the situation. A dead girl was in my motel room...

  I kept driving. She wasn't my priority right now and there was nothing else I could do for her. Making my way back to Normont, I kept my mind focused on Etta. I needed to find her, needed to hold her again, kiss her, tell her I loved her.

  My arms almost ached with the emptiness. As I drove, the sun rose up high to reveal a clear, cloudless sky with nothing on the horizon but fields. Looking at nothing but the straight seamless line of the road ahead, I felt my thoughts pull themselves tight. It was all starting to become clear. I knew what my purpose was.

  As soon as I found Etta, and I swore to myself that I would, I would ask her to marry me. We'd get the hell away from this place and start again.

  There's be no more working at the hospital, no more Cardiospan, no more running and fighting. No more violence… It would just be me and her and a long happy, quiet life. Maybe we could even have children and raise them somewhere hot and sunny; a place where they could play outside and spend their long summers on the beach knowing nothing but fun.

  For the first time since Etta disappeared, I started to relax. I had a plan. Or at least I had a pipe dream. I was more determined than ever. I would find her. Things were going to be okay.

  I was plunged so deep within my thoughts that I almost didn't hear the sirens. It was only when I glanced in the rearview mirror that I saw the flashing lights gaining distance on me.

  "What the fuck?"

  I carried on driving hoping that either my mind was playing tricks on me or they had the wrong guy. It wasn't. And they didn't.

  The car sidled up beside me, the cop in the front seat shielded by his oversized aviators. I had no choice but to screech to a halt, the cop car parking behind me.

  I watched in the rearview mirror as the cop marched toward me, hand on his gun and a swagger swinging his hips from side to side.

  "Hello there," I said as I glided the window down.

  "Mr. Bosworth?"

  "Yes."

  "The Lincoln Bosworth?"

  "Yes."

  He drummed his fingers along the edge of my window as he thought and sighed.

  "Okay. Give me a moment."

  His radio crackled with orders I couldn’t comprehend. He sauntered away from my car to consult with his colleague, a skinny rookie with arms like twigs.

  Was that it? Was that all the interrogation I was going to get?

  I watched in the wing mirror as their discussion got more heated. The rookie was shaking his head and waving his hands.

  "We can't!" he said. "Do you know who he is?"

  "He's an outsider," protested the older one. "I don't care how much money he has. Scum like that isn’t welcome here and we need to show him."

  I looked ahead and saw the road was empty. Maybe there was a chance I could step on the accelerator and speed out of here before they could catch up. How far was it to state lines? Fifty miles? Was it possible?

  There was no time left to consider my haphazard plan. Both the cops were striding over, the rookie hanging back a few feet like he'd rather be anywhere than where he was.

  "Mr. Bosworth, would you step outta the car?"

  I did as I was told. There was no use arguing. Maybe he just wanted to check that it was really me. It probably wasn't every day that a billionaire came driving through small towns.

  "What you guys after? A couple selfies for your department Twitter page and a little pocket money?" I laughed.

  The older cop pulled down his sunglasses and glowered at me.

  "Mr. Bosworth, you're under arrest for the murder of Chrissie Stevens."

  Before I could think, he twisted an arm up behind my back and cuffed my wrists. I winced in agony. It wasn't too long ago they were bloody and raw and they were still healing.

  "Hold still," he insisted. "Don't think your money gets you special treatment around here. I will shoot you if I have to."<
br />
  I glanced over to the rookie who was looking down at the ground. He knew this was a mistake he'd pay for.

  And I knew it too.

  The One

  Jewels And Panties Series

  Book Nine

  Brooke Kinsley

  © 2017 All Rights Reserved

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses per law

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  "Erotica is literature designed to be read with one hand...”-Brooke Kinsley

  Description

  LINCOLN

  I need to find her!

  But right now this son of a bitch police sergeant has other plans.

  Under arrest for a murder I didn’t commit, I find myself stuck in a backwater town miles away from where I should be and all I can think about is finding Etta.

  The more time without her, the more I know she’s theone.

  As soon as I’m out of here I’m going to propose to her.

  If she’s still alive.

  ETTA

  I haven’t got much time left.

  I’m being held captive by a madman who says he loves me.

  He’d rather see me dead than see me happy with someone else.

  Every second in this house is a second closer to death.

  All I can think of is Lincoln.

  I know he’s the one. I know he’s out there looking for me.

  But will he get here on time?

  Chapter One

  BERGER