Big Daddy To Go: A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance

by Adams, S. C.

  “Mom, either shape up or ship out,” I say grimly while gritting my teeth.

  Renee sniffs again.

  “So touchy! But fine, Lexi. Have it your way.”

  We turn back to the food, and I eat as fast as possible. After finishing in record speed, I make my excuses and leave. I’m emotionally drained. I head home to sleep away my sorrow like I’ve been doing since the wedding that didn’t happen. By the time I wake up, it’s dark outside.

  My stomach grumbles, but I’m craving more than just food. I need a drink. My nerves are shot, and I figure shots of vodka are the only thing that can calm them down.

  I walk past some cardboard boxes, ignoring them. Before the wedding, I’d been planning on moving into Jason’s apartment, but clearly, that’s not happening anymore. I stub my toe, almost tripping over one of the half-filled boxes. Fuck! I’m going to have to unpack them at some point. It’s just another post-wedding gift Jason left me to take care of. Just like the bill for the caterer that his parents didn’t pay and the gifts I will be responsible for sending back.

  I open the refrigerator, but it’s completely empty. Dinner isn’t happening. Maybe I have some vodka left. I open the cabinet my liquor is usually in. All I have is Goldschlager. Gross. I bought that for Jason since it’s his favorite.

  I guess I’m going out for a drink. I head into the bathroom to make sure I look halfway decent. My curly hair is wilder than it usually is. I grab a clip to pull up the sides and tame it down a bit. The little make-up I put on before lunch is surprisingly still intact. I smooth my hands over my strapless maxi dress and decide I look presentable enough to be seen in public, so long as no one looks too closely.

  Just a few blocks away is a dive bar called The Drunken Bucket. Melanie and I go to their happy hour every Friday night. It’s only Thursday, but I need something to take my mind off of things. Squaring my shoulders, I walk to The Drunken Bucket and head straight to the bar without making eye contact with anyone.

  The Drunken Bucket is backlit by stained glass signs of various alcoholic beverages. String lights drape across the entire bar. The walls are cracking, signifying its advanced age, and there’s the smell of cheap beer in the air. The Drunken Bucket is not the classiest place, but fun times have been had here. I hope I’m not ruining those good memories by coming here depressed.

  I take a seat on a stool; my ass fills the entire surface. Next to me, two petite girls giggle and flirt with the bartender, Ricky. They can fit both of their asses on one seat. I remind myself that it’s not them I’m mad at—it’s Jason.

  How could he do this to me? We were supposed to spend our life together, and then he blows me off in front of all of those people! Not to mention the frivolous way he wasted everyone’s money and wrecked everyone’s plans. And then, to top it all off, he has the nerve to go on the honeymoon I paid for!

  My disbelief turns to disappointment which then turns to anger. This is the constant merry-go-round my emotions have been on for the past week.

  “You look like you need a drink like … yesterday,” Ricky says, standing in front of me.

  I look down, realizing that in my raging thoughts of Jason, I tore up two cocktail napkins. One is still clutched between my fingers. My cheeks burn in embarrassment, but I try to laugh it off.

  “Sorry, Ricky. Rough week, I guess.”

  “No apologies needed. What can I get you?”

  I momentarily debate on a glass of wine, but I don’t want to mellow out. My body is filled with all sorts of emotions—rage, pain, and humiliation being the top three.

  “Vodka on the rocks, please.”

  “Coming right up,” the bartender says, knocking on the bar.

  I glance around the place and see a couple on a date. They’re holding hands and stealing kisses. The guy whispers something in the girl’s ear that causes her to blush. As I admire the pair, I remember that Jason and I never really had that new relationship giddiness. Not only was my ex-fiancé standoffish, but he wasn’t good at being there for me in any sort of emotional or supportive way.

  There were work functions he was supposed to be my date for that he didn’t show up to for one reason or another. There were plenty of forgotten birthdays and anniversaries.

  When I was filling out wedding invitations, Jason was supposed to help me, but instead, he had to watch whatever sports game was on. He sat there with a pen in his hand, but it was all a farce since he didn’t fill out one single invitation.

  While I sat there, trying to get through close to three-hundred invitations, I broke out into tears. Not over the invitations, even though I was pissed at him for not helping. No, my tears were caused by the realization that my fiancé was a schlub, albeit a rich one, and I was too cowardly to call our wedding off. I sobbed right in front of Jason’s face, yet he hadn’t even asked if I was okay. His eyes remained glued to the television.

  Ricky places my drink down, once again interrupting my thoughts of Jason. I let out a deep breath. How did I almost marry such an asshole? I keep telling myself I should be thankful that this happened. Still, I wish I hadn’t been humiliated and feel so lost about it all.

  I throw back the vodka as if I’m in a chugging contest.

  “Keep them coming, please,” I request, slamming the glass down on the bar.

  Ricky chuckles and grabs the glass.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  As I wait for my next drink, I find myself searching for the cute couple once more. They’re no longer sitting in the corner. In their place is… Jason?!

  My heart pounds against my chest. I want to march over to him and punch him! I want to humiliate him like he did me! Wait, isn’t Jason supposed to be in Bora Bora? Maybe he couldn’t go on our honeymoon due to his guilty conscience. Yeah, right! I doubt Jason has ever felt guilty about anything is his spoiled life.

  I can’t help but stare, waiting for my ex-fiancé to notice me. But then, I lean closer and squint my eyes. Is that even Jason? It sure looks like him! His coal-black hair is perfectly combed, which isn’t like Jason, who keeps his hair too long for his mother’s liking.

  Well, unless Jason got a haircut, this guy can’t be him. There’s also something different about his eyes. I can’t tell their color from this distance, but his are more intense than Jason’s. In fact, they practically glow in the dim light of the bar.

  I’m still confused when the bartender places my drink down. I raise the glass to him and drink it in one gulp. Ricky shakes his head with a laugh and snatches the glass to get me another drink. I turn back toward Jason’s twin, but he’s gone!

  It’s probably for the best anyway. I need to get Jason out of my head. He’s clearly bad news if he’s making me hallucinate at this point.

  “Looking for someone?”

  I snap around to my right, only to slide off the stool and into someone’s arms. I stare up into Jason’s eyes—well, Jason’s doppelganger’s eyes. They’re a deeper shade of blue, and I find myself lost in them. Wow, so weird. This guy’s taller and better built than Jason… and his muscular arms are still wrapped around me!

  It’s definitely not Jason, come to think of it. This man’s body is warm and welcoming. His smile is vibrant and full of life, while Jason’s smile was fake and devious.

  “Um, hi,” I stutter, bracing myself on his biceps.

  The two drinks are already hitting me.

  “Hi. I saw you looking around like you were searching for someone…?”

  His voice is deep and raspy. And sexy as hell.

  “Y-yeah…”

  “Whoever would stand a beautiful lady up doesn’t deserve her.”

  I smile at that. Oh, if only he knew I was left at the altar. The biggest and worst way to be stood up ever!

  “Oh, I thought I saw someone I knew,” I explain. “I’m actually alone. I need to let off some steam after having a rough week.”

  “Here you go, Chugs,” Ricky says, placing my drink on the bar.

  “Your name is Chugs?”
the doppelganger asks with amusement dancing in his eyes.

  I shake my head and glower at Ricky before looking back at the gorgeous man.

  “No, but apparently, this guy thinks he’s funny. Are you waiting for someone?” I ask, not sure if I’m intending to flirt.

  There’s no harm in it, right? I don’t think I can control it anyway. This man has me mesmerized. He has the looks of Jason, but with way more charm. And his voice makes me want to hear him call my name as he comes. Wow, I haven’t lusted after someone in so long that I’m surprised by my own sexual needs.

  I shouldn’t want this man because he looks like Jason. I should be turned off by him completely. Instead, I want to get back at Jason for leaving me. I should have been the one who walked out on him! I need a revenge fuck, and who better to have it with than someone who looks like Jason but is even hotter? It’s perfect.

  The man grins, showing perfect white teeth.

  “No, I’m here alone, too. I figured I’d catch the end of the Yankee game before heading home.”

  “Oh, well. I was going to ask you to join me, but if you’re watching the game, then it’s no problem.”

  I remember how Jason had been during any sports game. Distracted, uninterested, and downright annoyed by my mere presence. But the stranger is different.

  “Are you kidding? A drink with a pretty brunette trumps sports any day,” he winks.

  I blush. Totally not Jason. I repeat, this guy is not Jason, who might as well be a wax figure compared to this guy. I need to know his name.

  “While Chugs is cute, my real name is Lexi,” I say, sticking my hand out to him.

  “Nice to meet you, Lexi.”

  My name rolls off his tongue, and his juicy lips curl into a smile.

  “I’m Kane.”

  Shit, he even has a hot ass name. His large hand covers mine as he caresses my offered hand softly.

  I sit back down on the stool, and Kane sits next to me. I feel his eyes wander over my ass before roving up and down my curvy form. I spin the rotating seat of my stool toward him, somewhat self-consciously. He sits facing me with his long, muscular legs stretched out on either side of me. Our knees knock together softly, and a tingle runs through me at the slight contact.

  I decide more liquid courage is needed. As Kane orders a beer, I take the opportunity to gulp down my third vodka.

  “Wow, now I know where you got your nickname from,” he laughs.

  I smile at him sheepishly, wiping vodka off my chin. This is definitely not my finest moment.

  “Like I said, it’s been a long week.”

  “I’m not judging,” he remarks as he holds his hand up in the air.

  I make up my mind about something. I’m not going to be that girl anymore—the one who settles and gets crapped on by some guy just because he’s rich and good-looking. I’m not going to sit home and pine away for some guy to marry me.

  I deserve fun and passion. And I deserve wild, mind-blowing sex where I get to come too! Kane is all mine tonight, and I will make sure he knows it.

  4

  Kane

  It wasn’t my normal scene … a pub on a Thursday night near Harlem, but I’d had a meeting in the area. Usually, the places I go to are in more upscale neighborhoods where I have bottle service. I like the change of pace, though. Plus, the places I go to don’t ever have sports on. Although I find myself people watching more than watching the actual game.

  That’s when I spot her. Her eyes scan the room like she is looking for someone. She has long, brown hair that stops a foot above the most amazing ass I’ve ever seen. I love the fact that her luscious bottom covers the surface of the stool. She leans forward a little, squinting toward me.

  She must have caught me staring at her. I try to look away, but the more she leans, the more her delicious cleavage can be seen in my peripheral vision. I have to get a closer look at her huge tits and voluptuous ass.

  As I walk toward the bar, I notice she looks sad. Her big brown eyes are lost and unsure. I figure someone stood her up. A gorgeous young woman like her should have men worshipping her.

  Just as I approach, she slides off her stool unintentionally, and I grab onto her. My hand feels the curve of her back as the tits I had admired from afar are right under my gaze. This girl is stacked in every way.

  Her name is Lexi. Sexy Lexi. To my surprise, she invites me to have a drink with her. I’m not used to girls being bold. Maybe it’s the way people in their twenties act nowadays, but I just recently turned forty and live in the land of the wealthy, who are still old-fashioned in my experience. At least, the old money rich people are.

  Besides, most women are too intimidated to come onto me. At 6’2” and two-hundred pounds, my size makes me seem unapproachable. Throw in the fact that I’m a billionaire, and I might as well put a “don’t talk to me, I bite” sign on my back.

  I’m always the one who makes the first move. Women will literally stare me down, trying to get me to notice them, but they never approach me first. But tonight, Lexi surprised me.

  “So, what do you do?” I ask as we make small talk.

  Lexi’s hand rests on my thigh as she leans into me. I remind myself to stare into her eyes and not at the flesh peeking out above her strapless dress.

  Lexi bites her bottom lip and looks at me like she wants to make her mouth useful.

  “What do you want me to do?” she retorts.

  Fuck. My cock throbs as I rub my thumb across her bottom lip.

  “Anything you want to do,” I tell her.

  She stands up and moves in between my legs. Her wide hips spread my legs a smidge further as I grab onto them. Lexi locks her arms around my neck and looks into my eyes.

  “I want to fuck you,” she murmurs just loud enough for me to hear.

  My cock responds by pressing against her belly. She presses her lips to mine, and I immediately part them with my tongue. I dig my fingers into her hips and pull her against me as we continue to kiss. Fuck, she’s an amazing kisser. I can’t wait to see what else she can do with her hot mouth.

  I toss down a few hundred dollars on the bar, not even sure of what our tab comes to, but I figure that more than covers it. I grab Lexi’s hand, and we walk out of the bar.

  Not wanting to bother with my personal car service since it’s late, I hail a taxi even though my car is parked right outside The Drunken Bucket. I’ve had a few beers past my usual and think it’s too risky to drive. I’ll send my assistant to pick up my car and bring it to the garage of my building later.

  We get inside the taxi, and I give my address.

  “Madison Square Park Tower.”

  Lexi is having trouble getting comfortable in the long summer dress she has on.

  “This stupid dress,” she grits her teeth, realizing it’s stuck in the car door.

  I chuckle as she keeps tugging on the bottom hem, exposing her calves and part of her thick thighs to me. Her tits jiggle as she struggles, trying to get the dress free from the door.

  “I want to rip that dress off of you,” I rasp, nipping her neck.

  She lets go of the dress and runs her fingers through my hair as she pulls me to her mouth.

  “No sex in my cab,” the driver scolds, waving his finger at us.

  “Relax, we’re not giving a free show.” Lexi rolls her eyes.

  I like her. She’s funny and sassy… and I need to be inside her soon. Thankfully, there isn’t too much traffic this late at night as we head downtown.

  “How long have you lived in Madison Square Park Tower?” Lexi asks, trying to distract us from what we really want to be doing.

  “Uh, about six years.”

  “What is it that you do?” she wonders curiously.

  I smirk and decide to play with her like she did with me. I tilt my head to the side and lean in close to her.

  “Anything you want me to do.”

  I see a blush cover her cheeks.

  “I think we already covered that at the bar.�
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  I chuckle and lower my voice as I bring my lips to her ear.

  “Oh yes, you mentioned something about fucking me.”

  Lexi flashes a sexy smile as she places her hand between my legs. She squeezes my dick through my pants, and I groan. If we weren’t in this fucking cab, I would have my cock down Lexi’s throat already.

  “Pull over,” I practically roar at the driver.

  “Excuse me?” he asks, confused.

  “Pull the car over. We’re getting out.”

  The driver does as I instruct. The meter only reads six dollars, but I hand him a fifty.

  “Wait,” I tell Lexi, who looks confused as I get out of the car.

  “You want change?” the driver asks as I close the door and make my way around to Lexi’s side.

  I can see the bottom of her dress sticking out of the car door, and I laugh to myself. I open the door, grab Lexi’s hand, and pull her out of the taxi. She quickly reaches for her purse and looks up at me perplexed.

  “Where are we going?”

  “A hotel. The ride is taking too long.”

  She looks unsure for a moment as she glances around, making sure she knows which street of Manhattan we’re on.

  “Is that okay?”

  “Yeah, sorry. I don’t normally do this.”

  “As well you shouldn’t. There are lots of crazy people in this city.”

  She smiles at that, and I can’t resist kissing her. The fire inside both of us stirs up again.

  “Let’s get a room,” she says breathlessly as I place soft kisses on her neck.

  We head into the Hotel Magnolia, which is part of a hotel chain I own. The concierge greets us with a warm smile.

  “We’ll be staying in the penthouse suite tonight,” I tell the concierge. “Is it available?”

  Lexi squeezes my hand and whispers, “Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”

  I chuckle and wink at her.

  “Yes, Mr. Jones,” the concierge says, handing me the key. “Would you like champagne sent up?”

  I can feel Lexi looking at me.

  “I think we’re good for now. Thank you, Barrett.”