Romance: The Billionaires Collection (Watched By A Billionaire, Stranded With A Billionaire, Caught By A Billionaire, Billionaire Stepbrother)

by Lexi Duval

  “Abby, good morning! I trust you slept well.” His words come fast, abruptly ending the kiss with my mother.

  “Well thanks, Stephen. It's so peaceful here, so quiet.”

  “Yes, it is. Now come, have some breakfast. The kitchen have put on quite a spread this morning.”

  I look at the table set up outside and run my eyes over the piles of bacon, eggs, muffins, toast, and pretty much everything I could imagine from a hearty breakfast. I serve myself from the buffet and settle at the table with my mother, who seems to be glowing even brighter than yesterday.

  I suspect she must have had a fairly satisfying night.

  The sun warms my shoulders as we all sit happily together like a new family, seemingly already at ease with each other.

  It strikes me that, although I felt nervous when I left my room, that feeling has now completely dissipated. Stephen Black is just so disarming that it's almost impossible to feel uncomfortable around him.

  I spare a few thoughts for my father, though, almost feeling guilty with how I'm feeling. The way my mother unceremoniously dumped him soon after he lost his fortune left me, for a while at least, favoring him as my preferred parent.

  Yet, as the years went by, I began to see that the relationship wasn't really all it seemed to me, and my mother told me the divorce had been brewing for a while.

  “Losing the money was just the final straw, sweetheart. And I only divorced him once you had become an adult.”

  She told me that they stayed together for my sake, but once I'd grown up there really wasn't any point it in anymore. Gradually, my frustration with my mother eased and I began to understand a little more where she was coming from.

  Still, her mind was always set on replacing my dad with someone of means, someone who could take care of her and keep her in the manner that she had become accustomed to.

  Well, Stephen Black can certainly do that...

  It's nearing 10 AM when the sound of Tyler's voice oozes behind me.

  “Morning everyone. Father, Sue...Abby.”

  He comes forward and piles a plate full of food, making me wonder how he manages to stay in such amazing shape.

  Probably one of those guys with a super fast metabolism. Those lucky shits who can eat what they want and still stay lean...

  He sends me a wink as he sits down, but his usual smirk is absent and he seems a little more relaxed than I've seen him.

  Together we all eat and drink orange juice and comment on the weather. After breakfast, Stephen offers to take us on a stroll into the farther reaches of the estate that we didn't have time to venture to yesterday.

  The place truly is sprawling, set on hundreds of acres of beautifully kept lands filled with lakes and ponds and woods and lawns. Everywhere we go there seem to be gardeners taming the landscape, and I even notice some security guards manning the outer boundaries.

  Oh, the life of a billionaire...

  Tyler, to my surprise, accompanies us, and seems on better behavior today. Aside from the odd grin and sleazy look in my direction, he actually talks like a normal person, telling me about his work with the family business.

  By all accounts, his tardy nature hasn't stopped him from rising to a prominent position within his father's empire.

  “He wants me to take over,” he tells me. “Although, if you ask me, he won't let go until he's six feet under. He loves his work as much as he loves your mom, and that's saying a lot.”

  “You really think he loves her?”

  “Sure. I've only ever seen him this attentive with my mother back when I was younger.”

  “What happened to her, if you don't mind me asking?”

  His expression turns more serious, seizing up slightly.

  “She died when I was 16. Cancer.”

  “I'm sorry.”

  “That's OK. It doesn't matter how rich you are, you can't buy your way out of having cancer...”

  He speaks with an ironic tone, the wound still a little sore to the touch.

  By early afternoon we enjoy a beautiful lunch, taken down by the lake. We take small rowing boats out, and Tyler's playful side appears, splashing me in a flirty fashion and, most likely, in a bid to get my shirt wet.

  He succeeds, and my bra quickly appears beneath my sodden top.

  “Nice,” he says, ogling my cleavage.

  I splash him back in reply.

  Later we swim, the water warm, and I gaze at Tyler's body as he swiftly shoots underneath the surface of the water with the speed and grace of a creature born to the seas.

  He shakes his hair and stands under the sun, dripping wet, the shining light showing the deep carvings of his abs. It's only when my mom calls me from the shore that I remember myself and drag my eyes away.

  But he knows I've been looking.

  By early evening, Stephen kisses my mother goodbye and gives me a hug.

  “I have to work this evening and I'll be very busy this week, darling,” he says to my mother. “But next weekend I'd love to take you both to my place in the Caribbean.”

  My mother hugs him tight, giddy as a schoolgirl, and tells him we'd love to.

  And in the background, I see Tyler watching me, eyes caressing my body, undressing me in his mind.

  When he kisses my cheek to tell me goodbye, he whispers in my ear.

  “Next weekend can't come soon enough.”

  Chapter Four

  Back at my grotty apartment in Queens, I look at the place with a new eye.

  I suppose it's natural to compare things, and after enjoying the grandeur of the Black estate, my apartment seems even worse than it was before.

  It takes me a couple of days to get used to it again, and as soon as I've managed to do so I'm being whisked away once more, finding myself standing on a private airfield near JFK looking at the sleek shape of a white jet sitting on the tarmac.

  Stephen greets my mother and I outside, looking delighted but exhausted after what was probably a long week at work.

  “You ready to go?” he asks and we nod in unison, smiles wrapping around both our faces.

  I climb the stairs, and marvel at the luxury interior, adorned with sofas and tables and with the look and feel of a high end hotel living room.

  At the far end, with his legs casually crossed over one another, sits Tyler, slick suit clinging to his frame like a baby monkey to its mother. He holds a bottle of beer in hand, and quickly places it down to come greet us on arrival.

  He kisses me gently on the cheek again, lingering a little longer than is customary, before retiring to his original position and looking out the window.

  The plane roars, moving into position and then charging up the runway with the ferocity of a storm. It's quite different from the usual experience of taking off in a commercial airliner. The entire plane feels much more agile, much faster, and strangely, much more vulnerable.

  It's my mother, however, who's always had the slight fear of flying, so Stephen spends most of the first 30 minutes making sure she's comfortable and, more importantly, distracted.

  I sit, staring out of the window, wondering why Tyler appears to be ignoring me. In fact, what annoys me most is that I care.

  He hardly looks at me at all, unlike the previous weekend when his eyes ogled me at every opportunity, and I start to think that perhaps he's bored of the games and is onto the next girl.

  I'm sure a guy like him doesn't hang around with any one girl for long...

  The debate that had been raging in my head all week reawakens as I sit there. Pretty much a tug of war between my head and my heart. Well, not my heart...my loins.

  My head says no, very firmly, and suggests that there's something almost incestuous about the whole thing. I mean, the guy's dad is seeing my mom. That makes us siblings, almost.

  My heart, or loins, however, don't give a fuck about the moral side of things. Having not been laid for two years, suddenly coming across a guy who can fuck like a stallion is sending my hormones wild. And he just happens
to be here, right now, casually glancing out at the fluffy clouds with a pensive look which I'm also finding strangely attractive.

  I turn my mind from him and look out of my own window on the opposite side of the plane. Down below there's nothing to see but a blanket of cloud, thick and white and filling the view below like a massive, frothy soup.

  Eventually my mom begins to loosen up and Stephen starts talking excitedly about the island he's taking us to, St Barts, where he owns his own beach property. By the time we touch down I feel like I've already visited the island such is his capacity for painting a picture with words.

  We roll up to a small airfield and taxi toward a private hanger. Outside, a car awaits us, ready to take us on.

  “Everyone off,” shouts Stephen as he descends to the ground outside and greets the driver.

  My mother and I follow, Tyler plodding out behind us in the rear looking more forlorn than usual.

  It's hot, much hotter than New York. The burst of warmth hits me immediately, wrapping my body up in a cloak of humid, sticky air. As soon as we enter the car, however, I'm cooled by the blow of the air conditioner inside.

  My mind turns from Tyler to the surroundings as the car pulls out and begins traveling through the jungle and along ocean roads. Beaches of white stretch out along the coast, the sea the color of turquoise close to the shore and then growing toward a darker navy blue as the ocean bed deepens.

  The journey takes no time at all, however, and within only five minutes we're being dropped off at a sprawling villa that shines white under the sun.

  “Follow me, I'll show you around.”

  Stephen takes us on the customary tour, my mother commenting regularly and gasping with delight the more she sees of the place. Tyler, meanwhile, opts out and makes his way immediately outside to an incredible infinity pool.

  Just as Stephen leads us upstairs, I see him strip off and dive in, and quickly look forward to testing the water myself.

  “It's truly magnificent darling,” says my mother, giving Stephen a kiss. “Thank you so much for inviting us.”

  “No need to thank me, Sue. Hopefully this is the first of many trips here.”

  Their eyes meet with a sparkle and I'm given hope that life after 50 doesn't have to mean the end of romance. When you're young, you think that your parents simply tolerate each other and nothing more. At least, that was my experience.

  You certainly don't think that two single people of around 50 could be so genuinely into each other, as if they were finding love for the first time.

  The sight warms my heart and makes me smile.

  That day we spend lounging by the pool, bonding, eating and drinking. Tyler remains fairly closed off, however, seemingly content with improving on his bronzed skin tone and indulging in a variety of different alcoholic beverages.

  By the time we eat dinner together on a beautiful balcony overlooking the beach below, he's more withdrawn than ever. Strangely, however, Stephen doesn't draw attention to it. All he does is give him the odd pat on the back, while my mother asks him only once if he's OK.

  He merely answers with a smile and a light nod and returns to his suddenly introverted state, as if he's swapped places with an identical twin who's quiet, shy, and completely antisocial.

  His sulky presence doesn't ruin the evening though. Under the beautiful stars, which seem about five times as clear and bright out here as in New York, we eat and drink and watch the water shimmering out on the sea.

  The place is idyllic and utterly transfixing, and once more I begin to fear that when I return home to my apartment and world of unemployment and dissatisfaction, I'll feel even worse than I did the first time around.

  The thought occurs to me that perhaps it's better if I'd never even came, because then I'd never miss what I've never had. For years now I've gone without vacations to beautiful parts of the world, something we used to do often as a family, and now, maybe, they're going to return with a new man at the helm.

  Once again, I feel a snap of guilt for thinking that way, knowing my father's up in Chicago trying to rebuild his fortune without the support of my mother with him. I see him as often as I can, but I get the impression that he'd rather I didn't come visit until he was truly back on his feet.

  Unfortunately, that's been going on for years and he's still in the same small apartment and working the same dead end job.

  As with our evening at the Hamptons the previous week, Stephen takes my mother for a stroll along the moonlit shore. I watch as they descend the stairs, laughing and holding hands tight, before disappearing out into the darkness.

  Alone with Tyler now, I resolve to get to the bottom of his melancholy.

  “What's wrong with you,” I ask, not expecting a truthful answer. “You've been quiet all night. I mean, I don't know you that well, but you don't seem like the quiet type.”

  “You're right,” he mumbles. “You don't know me.”

  “Well them help me change that. At least tell me what's going on. Your father knows, that's obvious enough. Is it something to do with him?”

  I find myself talking a little too quickly, the wine getting to me.

  He hesitates for a while before merely shaking his head.

  “OK, I get it, it's none of my business. I'll leave you alone...”

  I stand and begin walking away, before his voice catches me in my tracks.

  “It's my mother,” he says, his voice heightened by her memory. “She died 7 years ago today.”

  I turn on the spot, see his eyes turn down.

  “Oh...I'm so sorry, I had no idea.”

  “It's OK.” He looks up to me, eyes shining under the starlight. “Have you ever lost someone you loved?”

  I move in and sit down next to him again.

  “No. Well, only grandparents but I never knew them well. Never anyone really close to me.”

  “My mother was everything to me. It's just...on this day each year it hits home, you know.”

  “I understand. And...I suppose it's not helping having my mother here, with your dad?”

  He flicks his eyes up at me and quickly shakes his head.

  “No, no, I don't think like that. Your mother seems like a great lady, and my father deserves someone like her.”

  He smiles and takes a sip of wine, his teeth shining bright in the dim light.

  “But...I'm sorry for being so glum. I usually spend this day alone, so I'm not used to being around people when she's on my mind.”

  “It's OK, Tyler.”

  I put a hand to his shoulder and being massaging him gently.

  And then, without any further thoughts or inhibitions running through my mind, we kiss. A gentle kiss. Soft and slow and warm.

  It's the first proper kiss we've shared. When we first met in the hotel room, there wasn't space for it. Last week in the mansion, his lips only approached the lips between my legs.

  But tonight, under the moonlight and with the sound of waves lightly lapping against the shore, we kiss for real.

  And I feel a very real pang in my heart.

  Chapter Five

  Through a haze of drunken breath, Tyler kisses me as his groin pulses against mine.

  I feel the full length of his dick, from tip to base, inside me, the walls of my vagina clamping down onto it and hugging it tight, never wanting to let go.

  Our tongues swirl inside our mouths like a cloud of smoke rising from an open fire, our lips wet and warm and endlessly moving over each others in a fit of passion that I haven't experienced in years.

  The drink inside me has loosened me to the point where he's the only thing resting on my mind, the only thing that matters right now. I groan under his weight as he slips out and in quickly, wrap my arms around his neck and dick my fingers into his back.

  He gives out a long sigh as I draw my finger nails as far back as possible, scraping his sides and reaching toward his ass. I grip his firm cheeks, squeeze hard, and coax him deeper inside me.

  I squeak as hi
s full length disappears into the blackness, the waves of pleasure rolling through my body and making my head go light.

  “Just like that,” I whisper in his ear, sucking at his lobe, dangling my tongue down the side of his neck.

  He thrusts with more force, and I clamp my legs tighter around him, my heels digging into the small of his back and causing him to arch up in a moment of pain and pleasure, his eyes widening before narrowing just as fast.

  “Your cunt is perfect,” he says. “So tight.”

  He slides out of me and traces his lips down my neck, the tops of my breasts, my hard nipples. Down he goes, climbing backwards on his hands and knees, licking over my flat stomach, my navel, through the stubble of my pubic hair and towards my pussy.

  “I love your taste,” he mumbles, before devouring me, his appetite rabid and insatiable.

  My hands drop to his head and rustle through his hair. When his lips clamp down on my clit and massage it gently, my fingers grip tighter as pleasure takes me.

  He grunts with another dose of pain and pleasure as I tear follicles from his head, before my grip loosens and my hands returns to my breasts, rubbing over me, draining all the joy I can from the experience.

  He works his fingers and tongue inside me, reaching up blind and taking my hand. He pulls it down and touches my fingers to my clit, leaving me to work at it as he takes care of the rest.

  Within minutes I'm having to bite my hands again with my other fist to stop from screaming out. Only down the corridor, my mother and his father and supposedly sleeping soundly.

  “I can feel you're about to come,” he says, noting the rhythm of my body, the quickening wriggle of my hips and the quivering of my legs.

  He slips his fingers out of my pussy, removes his tongue from the outer lips, and rolls onto his back.

  I'm pulled over and lifted on top of him, his swollen and rigid dick pointing to the sky like a flag. I straddle him, then prob myself up on one foot, before taking the shaft of his dick in my hand and gently lowering my body down onto it until my vagina is full of his meat.