Billionaire Romance Boxed Set (9 Book Bundle) (8 page)

His eyes stopped as they landed on a picture of Jill. Hawaii. About
seven years ago. Her skin glistened in her wet suit and she grinned a relaxed,
happy smile as the sun kissed her nose, Mike standing next to her, turned
toward her and showing the camera only his profile, face largely hidden. He was
a good foot taller than petite Jill. Their hair had lightened so much on that
vacation, though Dylan’s dark locks had stayed the same. By the end of the week
Jill and Mike were hooked on surfing, while Dylan…

His thoughts faded as the enormity of Jill’s death hit him. In some
ways, her death was still striking blows. Good ones. $59 million blows a year.

He, unlike Laura, would never have to worry about getting to work on time
again. Man, even letting himself think like that made him queasy. It was a
sick, sick way to become rich – losing your soulmate – and he was
still so angry at something – God? Cancer? Fate? His own helplessness?
– that he just wouldn’t quit the fire station, preferring to act like a
working class slob because until two months ago, that’s exactly what, and who,
he had been.

The masquerade of normalcy was important. Necessary. Especially now
that he was dating Laura. Until he knew she cared for him as the old Dylan
– before the trust fund – he needed to play it cool.

Sitting up, he stretched his arms over his head, willing blood to flow
into his biceps, triceps, popping his elbows and slowly stretching out his
neck. His hips ached just a little, the good kind of ache from a nice, deep,
intense session of lovemaking. He grinned, the smell of her still on his
sheets, her soft skin nearly still there, brushing against his chest. Laura was
soft and sweet and sighed like it was all some kind of dream, as if his touch
were new. He’d been tender with her, but detected a little something extra, a
naughty streak. He’d been right and reveled in the discovery.

If he texted her now would that be seen as too pushy? Too stalkerish?

Who cares
.

Grabbing his phone, he dug out her number and texted:
So you went
home and all I got was this morning boner.
;)

Silence.
Give it five minutes, Dylan
, he told himself. Standing,
he let the sunlight stream in through the window and wash over him, his naked
form tight with need. A bottle of lotion and a nice hot shower could kill off
his arousal. Even better, though, would be a date tonight.

Nothing. He knew it seemed way too desperate, but he looked up her
number and dialed. No answer. Not even a voice mail message. That was supremely
weird, because the only reason you couldn’t leave a voice mail on someone’s
phone was if they blocked you.

Cold rushed through his body, his flesh covered with goosebumps in
seconds. Blocked? Why would she block him? He took a really good look around
the room and let himself inhale, then exhale, a few times. Centered, he thought
carefully through the last twenty-four hours.

He had found her online. Asked her out. Scheduled a dinner at the
hottest restaurant in town. Found her attractive and the feeling mutual. Made a
move, invited her over, hand mind-blowing sex (
which he wanted more of
)
and had fallen sleep spooned with her in his bed.

Waking up, he was alone. He texted her. He called her – and now
it appeared she had blocked him.

Blocked?

That had to be a mistake. He called again. It rang twenty-eight times
before he hung up. Where was Mike? Oh, that’s right – at his cabin. He
had decided to clear out so Dylan could have alone time with Laura. Except now
Dylan had tons of alone time – with himself. Not the kind of private time
he was hoping for.

He popped on the computer and opened a chat window at the dating site.
She wasn’t in his “Favorites” any more. Huh? He ran a search – no Laura
Michaels. It was as if she had vanished.

Blocked?

***

Beep-beep-beep!
She whammed her hand on the alarm button, but it
was elusive; a little too far out of her grasp, but instead she whacked the
heel of her hand on the corner of her end table and listened to her own yelp of
protest.

“Damn it.” She opened her eyes, giving the machine a glare meant to
melt circuits. 6:00 a.m. – time for work. Really? Had she really only
gotten two and a half hours of sleep at best? Shit.

She stood up, forced herself to stretch and then wondered why she felt
so sore, so sticky, so

Oh.
Dylan’s tongue on her clit, lapping in circles as his finger
slid in and out, her legs on his shoulders and
– That’s why. She
closed her eyes and sighed heavily, letting emotion wash over her and just
feeling it, knowing that blocking it, denying it, or pushing it aside would do
her no good.

Let it be and it would fade. Force it away and she’d carry the pain
forever.

What she had thought might have been just wasn’t meant to be, and she
had to accept that. Too good to be true, really – the night was some sort
of magical, very authentic encounter with a hot guy way out of her league.

But that was okay. It was okay. It was a new day and she reached for
her smart phone, confirming the time and then seeing that she had about
twenty-seven texts from Josie, and she’d have to answer those later. Josie
would make her spill everything, tell all, and would congratulate her for
refusing to accept second best.

Right now, though, Laura needed to wallow. And that, like so much else,
was okay.

Her coffeemaker gurgled, the telltale signs that the cup was just
about finished. She had forgotten that before the date she’d set it all up just
like she always did, had come home from work and set up the coffee for the next
day. Grateful, she sloshed the coffee into her mug and sat down, booting up her
computer to check email, today like any other morning, although she knew deep
inside it really wasn’t.

Dylan, Dylan, Dylan, Dylan, Dylan.

Laura popped into her email, ignored a bunch of ads, found nothing of
real value in there until suddenly she noticed that the online dating site had
sent her a message. “You have a new request to chat.” Yep –
boom,
boom, boom, boom
. A hugely full inbox.

She had 17 new requests to chat. Yeah, right – they wouldn’t be
chat requests, but rather fuck requests.
Thanks, guys, I’m all chatted out
and my fuck request meter is broken.

She knew it was all right, deep down.
That’s
what she wanted
– she wanted more of last night. The magic. The thrill. Being charmed and
charming someone back. Falling into that special knowing and feeling warm and
safe and excited all at once, the heady passion of the new.

The image of the pictures all over Dylan’s room filled her brain
– that woman, his girlfriend, his wife, his
whatever
. He didn’t
wear a ring, but that didn’t mean anything. She had learned that within her
second or third date after college. The married men always lied and they tended
to be the slickest – and this guy was pretty slick. Laura took a deep
breath and it almost tasted like he was in her, as if his scent had permeated her
lungs, as if it coated her trachea, as if –

Inhale. Exhale
. She breathed in, she breathed out –
breathed in sadness, breathed out happiness, breathed in sorrow, breathed out
joy. No matter how hard she tried, though, it wasn’t cutting it. Caffeine would
have to do what meditation could not, no matter what her yoga teacher said
about the evils of coffee.
You can pry my caffeine from my cold, dead,
outstretched hand.

She sucked down the cup of coffee, poured herself another and thought
what
the hell
and clicked on one of those chat messages in email.
Hmmm. Hey
there, Mike
, she thought to herself. Some guy named Mike wanted to meet or
wanted to chat with her. Mike – let’s see, he’s 32, 6’5”, 180, okay he
sounded like a runner. Online dating was devolving into ordering from a menu.
Would
you like fries with that?

There it was: “likes to run marathons and works at a ski resort.” Oh,
dear – her idea of running was waving madly at the bus driver and
sprinting when she was late for the morning bus, and skiing? Lodge. Hot toddy.
Not snow.

Deleting his message would have been the easiest thing in the world,
and her finger even hovered over the button, but something stopped her. If
Josie had been there and asked, Laura couldn’t have explained it. She
just…stopped. Clicking to his profile, she read up on him. He looked kind of
like the opposite of Dylan. This guy had sandy blonde hair and Nordic features
while Dylan was Italian and dark and swarthy. Mike looked long and lean with
pictures of him riding a bike, shots of him crossing finish lines, and pictures
of him camping.

Camping
. She shuddered. Her idea of camping was no mint on the
pillow. She wasn’t sure this was going to work. And then she read his little
intro about himself:

“Hi, my name is Mike Pine, I am 32 years old. I am really new to this
online dating thing. I am very active and athletic, work at a ski resort, I
teach skiing and also work on the first aid team. In my spare time, I like to
run and camp and bike, and I’m looking for friendship or more, whatever and
would like to chat with other people who are interested in the same thing
– ”

Beep-blip!
A little chat window popped up and Laura splashed
coffee on her hand in surprise at the unexpected sound. “Ow!” she shouted,
grabbing a kitchen towel and shaking it out. “What the hell!?” She peered at
the now lit-up screen, a familiar chat window open in the right lower-hand
corner.

“Oh, geez,” she sputtered, her words echoing through her empty
apartment. Somehow he had figured out she was online, ‘cause this was a chat
from Marathon Mike himself.

Hi, there. Are you on right now?

Oh, God, she still had the smell of Dylan on her and now she had some
new guy coming after her? What a slut she was. She thought about that for a
second. The word slut didn’t really apply to her, ever. It was more that she
was trying on new behaviors.
Let’s try this one on for size
, she
thought.

I’m just drinking my coffee and getting ready for work and I logged in
and saw your message, so hi!

Oh, good morning! Yeah, I’m not really functional without two or three
cups of coffee myself.

He added a little grin icon.

Hmph… yeah who isn’t,
she thought.

Laura chugged the rest of her mug’s contents and typed, one-handed,

So I see you’re, like, Mr. Triathlon and ski dude, and my idea of
exercise is walking across the room to get the remote.

He wrote back several lines at once:

lolol, yeah don’t be afraid, we could just go for a hike if you want.

Oh, I think I just asked you out.

Yeah I did.

?

“Oh, man,” she muttered. She stared at the glowing screen, dumbfounded,
her empty coffee mug dangling precariously off her right index finger as she
absorbed this. What
was
this? Did she hit the good-looking guy lottery?
Out of the blue, she just – oh, she had just totally ditched Dylan in his
bed last night, and now she had some guy who looked like a lankier version of
the actor who played Thor hitting on her, but deep inside she decided she was
trying on this new act, and she would just go for it.

Just go for it, Laura. What can it hurt?
A swell of physical
memory from last night made her warm between her legs, made her skin flush with
the recall of Dylan’s hands. She wanted more. And if she couldn’t have more of
him
,
she might as well have some of
Mike
.

A hike, yeah, I’d like that. That sounds really cool.

And she breathed in opportunity, and breathed out rejection, breathed
in despondence, and exhaled chance.

Chance favors the prepared. Laura was more than ready.

At least, that’s what she told herself.

About the Author

Text JKentBooks to 77948 and get
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!

New York Times and USA Today
Bestselling Author Julia Kent turned to writing contemporary romance after
deciding that life is too short not to have fun. She writes romantic comedy
with an edge, and new adult books that push contemporary boundaries. From
billionaires to BBWs to rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every
book she writes, but unlike Trevor from Random Acts of Crazy, she has never
kissed a chicken.

She loves to hear from her
readers by email at [email protected], on Twitter @jkentauthor, and on
Facebook
. Visit my
blog
at
http://jkentauthor.blogspot.com

Also
check out my author page!

If you liked this book, check out
the whole story!

Her
Billionaires (Boxed Set)

COULD SHE REALLY FIND THE
RIGHT GUY ON THE INTERNET?

“Hot, luscious woman who can
suck a golf ball through forty feet of garden hose seeks rippling-ab’d
firefighter who has a tongue that thrums like a hummingbird and enjoys painting
my toenails and eating Ben & Jerry’s out of the carton while watching
Orange is the New Black.”

Curvy business analyst Laura
Michaels stared at the online dating site’s registration screen and frowned.
That’s what she really wanted to write. By the time her best friend, Josie,
edited and clicked “Send,” her personals ad was more fantasy than reality.

OR WOULD SHE GET MORE THAN SHE
BARGAINED FOR?

When two different guys — Dylan
Stanwyck and Mike Pine — replied within two days, she seemed doubly blessed.
After a first date with model-turned-firefighter Dylan that ended in bed — and
with a huge misunderstanding — Laura came home from her Walk of Shame to an
invitation for a hike with ski instructor Mike. The Great Outdoors became the
setting for so much more…

Caught between two men —
literally — who turned out to be roommates and secret billionaires, Laura
makes a startling discovery about her own capacity for passion.

And, maybe, long-term love in an
unconventional romance with two men that pushes every boundary.

Including her own
.