by Kira Blakely
Billionaire Bad Boys
Copyright © 2016 by Kira Blakely.
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First Edition: January 2017
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Table of Contents
Billionaire Boss
Billionaire Bad Ass
Billionaire Created
Extras
Play Time
Played
Exclusive – The Billionaire’s Pic
Sample of Caught Off Guard
About the Author
Personal Note
At the risk of sounding cliché, I want to tell you that you reading this book means the world to me. Thank you so much! I want to provide you with the best romance books I possibly can and convert you into a raving KIRALITE.
I have included some extras. If you are an existing fan then you will have read the two sports books attached. If you are a new reader then please enjoy Played (Short story) and Play Time (160 Kindle pages).
NEW EXCLUSIVE. I’m so excited to give you an exclusive copy of my brand-new book “The Billionaire’s Pic”. My editor says it’s some of my best work yet. It’s the first book in the Seduction Series that will release soon. It’s a stand alone with an HEA.
So, sit back, relax, grab a glass of wine and let’s get this party started.
“The thinking that guides your intelligence is much more important than the intelligence that you actually have.”
David J Schwartz
1
AS HE WATCHED THE WOMAN GET DRESSED, Dawson held back a sigh of frustration. He’d enjoyed the previous night; he’d have to be dead not to have enjoyed having sex with a beautiful woman, even if he couldn’t remember what her damn name was.
But as he watched her getting ready to leave the warmth of his bed, he felt cold inside. She turned to face him as she started to put on her bra and flashed a smile that was all perfectly straight, white teeth and false eyelashes, and he knew what she was going to say even before she uttered a word.
“So, gorgeous, when will I see you again?” Her voice was as fake as her tits were, and the coldness he felt inside quickly turned to a feeling of disgust. “And could you possibly give me some money to pay for a cab home? I seem to have misplaced my purse.”
And there we have it, he thought. Another fucking gold digger out for what she could get off him. He was so sick and tired of being treated as a meal ticket by almost everyone he knew, especially women, that he was at the point where he could quite easily throw in the towel and move to a secluded island.
There were just two flaws to his getaway plan: he loved money and the power it gave him over people, and he loved sex with beautiful women, even if it meant he had to use his money in order to get it. Miss fake-sexy, whatever-her-name-was seemed oblivious to the fact that his expression had grown cold as he swung his legs off the bed and reached for his wallet on the nightstand. He withdrew a hundred-dollar bill and walked over to where she stood, ogling his muscular nakedness, before thrusting the money into her hand.
“You won’t see me again, but thanks for a good night,” he said.
The woman’s expression turned petulant, and he was reminded of a sulky child who had been told she couldn’t have any more candy, which, considering the things they’d done the night before, made him cringe.
Thankfully, she took the not-so-subtle hint though, and a short time later he was alone in his penthouse apartment mulling over his life and where the hell it was taking him. He supposed that he had no one to blame for the way people treated him but himself, but knowing that didn’t make it any easier to swallow. He knew that he’d been dealt a rough hand from the minute he’d been born, but he’d managed to make something of himself despite that – or maybe it was because of that – so why couldn’t he find someone decent to share his life with?
Because you can be an asshole. Your mother was an asshole. Your father was probably an asshole, and you can definitely treat people like assholes, which is probably why you get treated like an asshole in return. What else can you expect? He knew that he wasn’t really an asshole – not in the grand scheme of things. Too many people had told him otherwise for it to be true. But sometimes it was hard to ignore the demons of his youth that reared their ugly head during times of self-doubt, and during his formative years, he’d been told so many times that he was a good-for-nothing waste of space.
He shoved at the mental voice that had decided to answer his rhetorical question, pushing it resolutely back down into the recesses of his mind where it belonged. He refused to think about his parents or their effect on his life any more than he wanted to think about the ‘system’ he’d been raised in as a result of their non-parenting skills. That was a dark road that he really didn’t want to travel down – not if he could help it. At least he had one thing to thank them for; they’d made him determined not to turn out like them.
Unfortunately, once he started to think about it, the thoughts were hard to shut off, no matter how hard he tried. As he took his shower and got ready for work, he couldn’t help but dwell on his past.
He hadn’t been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, despite what a lot of people thought when they found out that he was filthy rich. Hell, he hadn’t even been born with a plastic one either. If truth be told, he had no idea if his birth mother had known anything about spoons, other than to use them to do whatever drug users did with them to get the filth into their wasted bodies. He’d been born premature – tiny and suffering from the effects of his mother’s heroin addiction, and despite not being given much hope of surviving, he had recovered and thrived, thanks to the care he received from the neo-natal nurses.
Of course, he couldn’t remember any of that. His earliest memory was probably when he was about three years old, and it was the memory of children crying in their cribs or playpens at the children’s home he’d been taken to when he’d been well enough to leave the hospital. Most of his memories since then were carefully tucked away in some dark recess of his mind where they couldn’t escape to haunt him.
Occasionally, especially during adolescence, he hadn’t quite managed to keep them held back, and they would resurface when he least expected it, resulting in him being expelled from numerous schools and being labelled as a rebellious thug who would never amount to anything. Rather than adhere to everyone’s low expectations of him, he doggedly worked his way up the food chain until, eventually, he owned his own business. It felt good to actually employ those same people who’d said he’d never get anywhere in life except jail. As he thought about that, he smiled for the first time that day.
2
ALEXA HUNG UP THE PHONE with shaking hands and then gave a whoop of glee.
“Woohoo!! I’ve got an interview, Laura!”
She tried not to get too excited about it as she shouted through to the kitchen, but it was hard not to be, especially after the conversation she’d had with her bes
t friend and roommate, Laura, earlier that day. Feeling disillusioned with city life in general and being unable to find a job in particular, she’d told Laura that she was just about ready to call it a day and move back home with her parents. It wasn’t what she wanted to do, but if she couldn’t find a job before her meagre savings ran out, then she wouldn’t really have an option. Laura had told her that she needed to at least give it a couple more months, but she wasn’t sure that she could wait that long.
Running in from the kitchen, Laura gave a cheer of her own and high-fived her friend. “See? I told you something would come along, didn’t I?” She ran around the room shaking imaginary pompoms and wiggling her hips, and Alexa couldn’t help laughing.
“I don’t have the job yet, Laura. It’s just an interview, and there’s nothing to say I’ll get it.” But she hoped against hope that she would. She loved her parents, and they’d given her an amazing life, but she really didn’t want to move back to the small town she’d spent her whole life dreaming about escaping from. Working on the small family farm had kept her physically fit, but it wasn’t what she classified as a real job, and there sure as hell wasn’t any chance of her improving herself or her future there.
“So where is it, and what will you be doing there?” Laura was acting as though the job was already hers, and Alexa had to admit that her excitement was more than a little infectious.
“It’s just a temporary job at the Dawson James offices as a receptionist while their regular girl is on maternity leave. Nothing to get too excited about, but it’s better than what I have right now, right?” You don’t have anything right now, so of course it’s better, you dweeb, she thought to herself.
Laura stopped jumping around and stared at her. “Dawson James? The Dawson James?” She sounded more than a little envious, and when Alexa shrugged her shoulders and looked at her as though she was speaking a foreign language, she also looked incredulous. “Alexa, please tell me that you’ve heard of Dawson James? I mean, how can you not have heard of him? He’s only the most eligible bachelor this side of the equator!”
“I have absolutely no idea who or what you’re talking about.” And she really didn’t. “All I know is that the job is at the Dawson James offices.” What the hell is so special about the guy, she thought, unable to push away the curiosity that ran through her head.
The next hour was spent with Laura, enthusing over the wonderful Dawson James and how he’d built his empire from nothing and was now one of the richest men the planet had ever seen, which Alexa was pretty sure was a complete and utter exaggeration.
“So how did he build it up? What kind of business background does he have?” She would admit to being more than just a little curious, especially considering the way her friend was rambling on about him.
Laura shook her head. “Nobody knows. In fact, nobody seems to know much of anything about him or his past. He stays out of the limelight as much as possible, it seems, so it kind of makes him even more mysterious, doesn’t it?” She threw a grin in Alexa’s direction. “I have heard that he’s incredibly handsome though, so that certainly adds to his allure.”
It was Alexa’s turn to shake her head. Laura was an incorrigible flirt, and even though Alexa loved her dearly, she was under no false illusions as to her friend’s downfall, which happened to be men. She loved to party, and if the partying involved members of the opposite sex – and even better, sex itself – she was in her element.
The two girls were almost total opposites, with Laura being outgoing and extroverted and usually having a string of men at her beck and call. Alexa was quieter, shy, and had only had two boyfriends in her life – neither of which were serious, even though she had indulged in sex a time or two. If she was totally honest with herself, she thought she may be frigid, because she’d never really enjoyed the carnal part of either of her relationships, and the act itself had left her feeling rather cold. She really wasn’t sure what all the fuss was about, and sometimes she even wondered how she and Laura were so close, considering the differences between them.
But close they were, and their friendship had lasted through thick and thin. They’d always had each other’s backs even during their school years, and Laura had done everything in her power to persuade Alexa to move to the city with her and for them to get a place together. Things had worked out well, apart from Alexa not being able to find a job. She was starting to feel as though she was sponging off her friend, regardless of how many times Laura reassured her otherwise.
“So, what are you going to wear for the interview?”
She was brought out of her reverie and back to the situation at hand by the question. Shit! What am I going to wear?
The next hour was spent in her bedroom while the two women went through the contents of her wardrobe, with one item after another being discarded in disgust by Laura.
“Alexa, do you really want to come across as a country bumpkin, or would you rather look professional and at least stand a glimmer of a chance at getting the job?” She didn’t wait for an answer as she got up from the bed where she’d been sitting and walked out of the room.
Alexa heard her rummaging around in her own room, and a short while later, Laura returned, carrying a couple of outfits and throwing them on the bed decisively.
“Choose one of these.” Alexa looked at the clothes in horror. There was no way she could wear a skirt that short or a blouse that didn’t button all the way up. Could she? Considering the only other option she had would be to wear her stuff, it didn’t look like she had much choice. So with Laura making her try the clothes on and persuading her that she looked perfectly acceptable for an interview, the decision was made.
She spent a restless night; she tossed and turned as she worried about the interview the following day. She got up three times to write down a few things that had popped into her head at random times – questions to ask whomever was interviewing her as well as possible answers to some of the questions she might be asked.
It felt like she’d only been asleep for an hour when the alarm went off, and she dragged herself out of bed with a groan. She got showered and dressed, applying just enough make-up to cover the bags under her eyes without making her look like she was ready for a night on the town. After she got dressed in Laura’s clothes, she took one last, final look in the full-length mirror and gave a sigh of relief.
Not half bad, Lexi. You’ll do, she thought to herself.
3
HER INTERVIEW WAS MID-MORNING. After a couple of cups of coffee to wake herself up a little more, she decided to get the early train into the city center so that she wouldn’t have to worry about rushing. If there was one thing she hated, it was being late for something. Especially something as important as this.
She followed the directions up to the fifth floor of the impressive office building and, after giving her name at the front desk, she sat down on one of the leather chairs in the small waiting area.
Her hands were shaking so much that she could barely hold the manila envelope that held her resume, and she was sure that people walking by would be able to hear her knees knocking together. There were some other women who were obviously waiting to be interviewed also, but when Alexa gave them a friendly smile, each of them turned their noses up and totally ignored her, which only added fuel to her nervous state of mind.
If they can see I don’t belong here, then I don’t stand a chance of fooling whoever interviews me.
It felt like she’d been waiting forever, but when her name was called by a woman in an obviously expensive skirt suit and an air of haughtiness that could only come from good breeding, she got to her feet and followed on unsteady legs. She hadn’t had many interviews, and they had only been one-on-one. As she walked into the office, it quickly became obvious that that wasn’t going to be the case this time.
Three people sat behind a long, glass-topped desk – two men and a woman – and they all looked at her intently as she walked across the plush carpet and took
the seat opposite of them. She grinned anxiously and was rewarded with an answering smile of encouragement from one of the men, but the other two stared at her emotionlessly.
Oh wonderful, they hate me already, she couldn’t help thinking to herself. She made a conscious effort not to fidget or try to pull the skirt down over her knees, wishing that when she’d tried it on the night before she’d actually sat down in it to see how high it would ride on her thighs.
“Alexa Ryan?” The question came out almost as a sneer, and Alexa’s nerves elevated even higher. She nodded, afraid to use her voice just in case it shook as well. “We need to inform you and ask your permission to videotape this interview, Ms. Ryan. Unfortunately, Mr. James is unable to attend, but he does want to see the interviews of all of the possible candidates prior to making a final decision. Will that be okay with you?”
It was an unusual request, but in light of the fact that this was a well-known company and there were three people in the room besides her, she didn’t feel overly uncomfortable with it.
“That will be fine.” She gave her permission, and was quite proud of the fact that she didn’t stutter.
The interview commenced in earnest, and lasted for almost forty minutes with the usual questions regarding background, work history, and capabilities being asked. Toward the end, there were some more difficult ones that made her stop and think about her answers a little more carefully, as well as an opportunity for her to ask some questions of her own. She was thankful that she’d taken the time to prepare, and at the end, she was dismissed after being told that she would be contacted within a couple of days.
She made her way back home, feeling relieved and a little hopeful, but as she recounted the interview with Laura that evening, she started to feel the doubt creep in.
