Valentine's Billionaire Bad Boys

by M. S. Parker

  I squared my shoulders, took a slow breath, then let it out. I wasn't calm, but I was close enough to deal with this. My hands curled into fists as I got closer to the bedroom door. I heard them now, the unmistakable sounds of two people having sex.

  I pushed open the door.

  Okay, make that three people.

  I stood in the doorway, frozen, unable to look away even though I really wanted to. Gordon was kneeling behind a curvy blonde, every thrust making her large breasts swing beneath her. Another man was sitting on a chair in the corner, stroking his dick while he watched.

  He was the first one to see me. “Want to join us, sweetheart?” he said, his eyes sweeping down my body. “My wife likes to eat pussy while she's getting fucked.”

  Gordon turned toward me then, the color draining from his face as he froze. The woman didn't seem to care, pushing her ass back against him while he stared at me.

  “Sara, I can explain.”

  I held up a hand. “Not interested.”

  “It's just fucking, babe,” Gordon said, his voice close to a whine. He pulled out, earning a dirty look from the woman. “You know I love you.”

  His cock was sticking up, condom gleaming. At least, I thought, he had the decency to wear a rubber. My stomach churned.

  “How many times?” I found myself asking. Then I shook my head. “Never mind. I don't want to know.”

  “I wanted to talk to you about it,” Gordon said, rolling off the bed. “But you're so uptight when it comes to sex that I knew you wouldn't understand. This isn't cheating, and if you'd just give it a chance, you'd see that.”

  Anger cut through the hurt. “Don't you dare lay this on me,” I said through gritted teeth. “If you wanted an open relationship, or you liked sharing partners...I'm not judging that. You should have told me when we first got together. Talked to me. That's why it's cheating, you asshole.”

  To my surprise, the guy in the corner stood, his expression serious. “She's right. If I would've known your girl didn't know about this, I wouldn't have agreed.” He held out his hand to the woman on the bed.

  “I'm not his girl,” I said. I yanked my engagement ring off my finger and threw it at Gordon. “Not anymore.”

  “Sorry,” the woman muttered as she and the man picked up their clothes and hurried away.

  “I'm going for a walk, Gordon,” I said, keeping my voice low and calm. “When I get back, you need to be gone. And I don't ever want to see you again, so make sure you get all of your shit, otherwise, it's going to the mission at St. Paul's.”

  “Sara–” he began and shut up when I thrust out a hand.

  “In case you've forgotten, this is my apartment. Has been since before I met you.” My nails bit into my palms. “You have the time it takes me to walk to the coffee place and back.”

  I turned and walked out, ignoring his pleas for me to wait, to let him explain. I didn't want to listen to him. I didn't want anything to do with him ever again. Just the thought of it made me sick.

  Between Gordon and Chad, I wanted nothing to do with men in general for the foreseeable future.

  Chapter Two

  Dorian

  Las Vegas was fun to visit, but I always enjoyed going home to the Big Apple. The hotels in the city of sin were amazing, and I never minded the attention that was thrown my way by admirers, but a part of me liked the anonymity that New York brought. While we scheduled some fights in other cities, all of the big matches were in Vegas, and when I was fighting, that had been even more true.

  “Is there anything else I can get for you, Mr. Forbes?” The flight attendant gave me a polite smile.

  Genevieve was pretty, but she was also married, which meant she was off-limits. I had no problem sleeping with employees, as long as they understood that it didn't come with job perks, but I never fooled around with anyone who was married – or engaged. Everything else was fair game though. And while I didn't always stick with one-night stands, I always made sure my partners knew that I didn't do relationships. No exclusivity. Not even the promise of another date. I was a few months shy of thirty, and I didn't have any plans to settle down anytime soon.

  “I'm good, Gen.” I smiled back at her. Sometimes it was nice having a woman around who I knew wouldn't hit on me. Someone I didn't have to pretend to flirt with just to satisfy her ego.

  “I'll leave you two alone then,” she said as she headed up to the front of the plane.

  I looked over at the woman sitting across from me. Long legs, flawless complexion. Her hair was the color of honey, her tan clearly fake. Fake eyelashes too, and I was pretty sure her breasts weren't natural either. Might've even had some work done on her face, but she was gorgeous and that was enough.

  Another reason I loved Vegas.

  Showgirls.

  Some guys liked strippers, but not me. I didn't see the point of paying women to take off their clothes when there were so many willing to do it for free. It wasn't arrogance that made me say it either. It was just a fact. I knew I was attractive, and I had money. Both things that tended to cause women to throw themselves at me.

  “Did you want anything to drink?” I asked.

  Amber – or was it Anna – shook her head and uncrossed one long leg. She wasn't wearing her costume, but the dress she'd put on after the show didn't leave much to the imagination either. It wasn’t sleazy, just clearly made to attract attention. Off-white, strapless and painted-on tight.

  “You used to fight,” she said, leaning forward just enough for her cleavage to push up just right. “I remember seeing your last match.”

  I was a bit surprised. Amber – that was it, I remembered now – must've been older than I first guessed. I hadn't fought in nearly six years, choosing instead to take over the family business. While I missed the rush at times, there was something to be said for keeping my face this pretty.

  “I did,” I said and shrugged off my jacket, loosening my tie.

  After my business meeting, I'd taken several of the men I'd met to a show. They'd headed to a bar once the show was done, and I'd gone backstage to see if Amber would like a free trip to New York. We'd gone straight from there to the airport, so this was the first opportunity for me to get comfortable.

  “How long do you think we'll have to keep our seatbelts on?” Amber asked, her voice dripping pure sex.

  I shrugged, my eyes narrowing as she ran her fingers over her breasts, then down her stomach. When she parted her legs, her already short skirt slid further up her thighs, and I could see that she wore nothing underneath.

  I felt her watching me as she moved her hand under her skirt. She moaned when her fingers parted her folds, slipped over her clit and then inside her. Her fingers moved in and out, first one, then two of them.

  “Let me see your tits,” I growled, palming my cock through my pants.

  She pulled down the top of her dress and a wave of lust washed over me. Her breasts were full and firm, her nipples a dusky rose and already hard. While one hand was busy between her legs, the other went to work on her breasts, squeezing and teasing her nipples.

  The moment the captain announced that we could remove our seat belts, I had my cock out and was rolling a condom over it. I'd just finished when Amber was there, straddling my lap. She put one hand on my shoulder, reached down with the other to grasp my cock and hold it steady.

  I moaned in appreciation as she sank down on me, her height putting her breasts right at my face. I leaned forward and ran my tongue across her nipple, then took it in my mouth and sucked, hard.

  “Oh, yeah, baby,” she breathed as she began to move. She rose up until just the tip was still inside, then drove herself down. Hard.

  “Fuck!” I grabbed her hips and flipped us over so that she was on the seat.

  Bending my head, I took her nipple between my teeth. She squealed, then screamed when I slammed into her. I took a moment to be glad she wasn't the first screamer I'd fucked during a flight, then concentrated on what I was doing.


  She clawed at my back but didn't tell me to stop. If anything, she begged me to fuck her harder. I was just grateful I was still wearing a shirt. I liked some rough sex as much as the next guy, but I wasn't in the mood to be scratched up at the moment.

  “Harder,” she lifted her hips to meet my thrusts. “I'm close.”

  My phone rang and I raised my head. Amber glared at me as I reached for my jacket, but I ignored her. I wasn't about to miss what could be a business call, but I wouldn’t stop what I was doing either. It wouldn't be the first time I'd talked on the phone while fucking.

  “Quiet,” I said as I rolled my hips. She moaned and I reached down to cover her mouth with one hand while I answered the phone with the other. “Hello?”

  “Dorian?”

  Shit. It wasn't someone about business.

  “Jelani,” I said evenly. “Is something wrong?”

  Jelani Murrow was my personal trainer...and the woman I'd been seeing on-and-off for a little over a year. I'd been straightforward with her about the fact that we weren't in a relationship, but lately, I'd started to feel like she wanted more than I was willing to give her.

  “I was just wondering when your flight was getting in.”

  Amber squirmed underneath me, and I looked down to see her pinching and twisting her nipples with one hand. Her other one was between her legs, fingers furiously working over her clit. Her teeth nipped at my palm, but I kept my hand over her mouth.

  “It'll still be a few hours,” I said.

  I closed my eyes as Amber's pussy tightened around my cock. I couldn't quite hold back the strangled sound that rose from my throat.

  “Are you okay?” Jelani asked.

  “Fine,” I ground out.

  Amber's dark eyes shone up at me as her body moved against mine. She was a dancer, and now she was dancing underneath me, muscles tensing and relaxing, new kinds of friction rubbing in all the right places. I was vaguely aware that Jelani was still talking, but I wasn't paying much attention. All of my focus was on moving harder and faster, driving into Amber until I finally found release.

  “Yes!” Amber's head tilted back, my hand falling away in time for her cry to go unmuffled. Her body shuddered as she came.

  “You bastard,” Jelani snapped. “You're fucking someone, aren't you?”

  “I don't do girlfriends, Jelani, you knew that.” I was so close. I needed to get her off the phone so I could come.

  “Fuck you, Dorian!” Her words were clipped, harsh. “I quit.”

  I tossed the phone onto the seat next to Amber and grabbed her hips. I needed to come. She squealed when I started to slam into her, but she didn't try to push me away, didn't ask me to stop, so I didn't. I kept driving into her even when she climaxed again, going over and over until, finally, I came too.

  I squeezed my eyes closed and leaned over Amber, letting myself enjoy the rush of chemicals that flooded through me, the natural release of tension. I knew I'd need to deal with the ramifications of what happened with Jelani, but it didn't have to be now.

  I pulled out of Amber and stood. With a grimace, I removed the condom and tossed it into a nearby trashcan. Protection was necessary, but that didn't mean I had to like the clean-up.

  I yanked up my pants and fastened them, then walked over to the minibar. “Want anything?” I glanced behind me to see Amber smiling.

  “I think I'll take some champagne if you have any.”

  I poured her a glass, then poured my own Scotch. I pushed Jelani from my mind and turned back to Amber, studying her carefully. We had the rest of the flight ahead of us, and I thoroughly intended to enjoy every minute of it.

  Chapter Three

  Sara

  I started out late on my run this morning, even for a Sunday. Usually on Sundays, I slept in until seven before heading out. Today, however, I hadn't even woken up until past eight.

  The apartment wasn't too big, but I'd never lived here alone. When I was at Columbia, I'd lived in the dorm. Since Gordon and I had already been dating for six months by the time I graduated, it had made sense that when my college roommate decided to leave after just two months in our apartment, that Gordon move in. So I'd just gone from one roommate to another.

  In fact, I realized suddenly, I hadn't had much alone time since I'd moved out here. Uncle Takeshi had done the best he could raising me, and we'd been a family of sorts, but I'd spent a lot of my childhood and teenage years in relative solitude. I'd never minded before, but now it felt weird.

  Gordon's things were all gone by the time I'd gotten back from my walk on Friday. Well, that wasn't entirely accurate. He'd left all the shit that he should've thrown away. Razor blades and shampoo and all that. So I ended up spending yesterday cleaning the apartment. Now, there were no traces of the bastard left.

  I was glad for that, because I didn't want to think about him anymore. I only wanted to be grateful that we hadn't started making plans for the wedding. I didn't even want to imagine how humiliating it would've been to explain that the wedding was off because I'd caught my fiancé with a pair of swingers.

  I shook my head and pushed that thought out of my mind. I didn't want to remember what I'd seen. The problem was, the next thoughts that came weren't exactly good ones either. They were primarily concerned with how I was going to pay my upcoming rent with only what I brought in with my part-time yoga instruction. I would've barely had enough if I'd still been working at the health club. Now, I’d be lucky if I could afford to eat for the rest of the month.

  At least it was a beautiful day and I had the rest of the day to myself. A run, then a hot bath. I was pretty sure I had a little bit of wine leftover from a dinner a few weeks ago. That, plus the last of the ice cream in the freezer and a good movie sounded like the best way to end the weekend. Tomorrow, I'd worry about everything else.

  As I headed out of the park and down the sidewalk toward the subway entrance, however, I quickly realized that I had something new to worry about at the moment. At first, I hadn't thought anything of the limo parked at the sidewalk. There were always limos about in the city.

  But then it started following me.

  I thought it might've been a coincidence, but when I cut across the street, it came too.

  Shit.

  That was exactly what I needed right now. A rich stalker.

  I began to jog. Fortunately, the streets weren't too crowded, and I was able to cut around and through. Except the limo was still following, and now I saw that there was a man following me too. He wasn't very tall, but he was bulky, and the way he moved told me he knew how to handle himself in a fight.

  I was still a few blocks from the subway, but there were a lot of people around. However, I also knew that having people around didn't guarantee safety, especially when most people’s eyes were glued to their phone.

  Sneaking another quick look over my shoulder, I saw that the guy behind me was walking faster. I had two choices. I could either try to lose him, or fight. I didn't know how long he could run, but I imagined that’s what he'd expect me to do.

  So I’d do what I always did when someone thought they knew how I'd react or behave.

  I did the exact opposite.

  I waited until I was at a crosswalk and stopped with everyone else. I edged toward the closest building and waited for the man to come close enough. The moment he was, I reacted, reaching behind me to grab his wrist.

  I felt his start of surprise but didn't give him time to react. I shifted, pulling him around in front of me where I quickly jabbed my fingers into his throat. He gagged, coughed, then stumbled as I swept my foot behind his. The limo was right there now and I threw the man against it, twisting his arm up behind his back.

  “Why are you following me?” I demanded.

  He looked over his shoulder at me. “Sara Carr?”

  I glared at him. “What do you want?”

  “Miss Carr?” A new voice came from the limo.

  I leaned back to see the speaker without releasing my h
old on the man pinned to the car. The guy inside the limo was gorgeous. Bronze-colored hair, chiseled cheekbones, and a pair of stunning violet-blue eyes.

  But being good-looking didn't mean he wasn't some sort of psycho.

  “What?” I snapped.

  He gave me a charming smile, like I wasn't considering breaking a man's hand. “My name is Dorian Forbes, and I'd like to offer you a job.”

  Chapter Four

  Dorian

  I'd done my research on Sara Carr so I knew who I was looking for. Long ebony hair. Dark brown eyes. Five feet, five inches tall, slender. Half-Japanese on her mother's side, she'd been raised in San Francisco by her maternal uncle. Graduated from Columbia with a Masters degree in sports management. Part-time employee at a health club and a yoga instructor.

  I knew all of that. What I hadn't known or expected was for her to be a total badass. Or so beautiful. I'd seen pictures, but they hadn't done her justice.

  When I'd gotten the call that my father was in the hospital, I'd feared the worst, and according to his doctor, if it hadn't been for the young woman who'd immediately started CPR, it probably would've been fatal. While Dad and I didn't always see eye-to-eye, particularly on my personal life, he was my father, and the only family I had left.

  So I'd asked around and gotten the name of the woman who'd saved him. I'd considered going to her apartment to talk to her, but when the police officer I'd spoken with told me that Sara had been running in the park, I'd decided that I'd wait for her outside, approach her that way. I wanted to thank her, possibly offer her dinner or a gift of some kind.

  I hadn't taken into consideration how it would look to have a limo follow her. When she started running, I sent Reggie after her, to let her know I just wanted to talk. And, clearly, that was an even worse idea. It had, however, given me the chance to see her in action.