Confessions of a Bad Boy Millionaire

by Cathryn Fox

  “You’re never going to know that sitting here, are you?” He finishes his whiskey, slams the glass back on the bar top. “So go take her away from this douchebag and show her you’re the right guy.”

  I nod, a new kind of desperation burning through my blood. “I need to go find her.” I jump from my stool, and turn toward the door, but stop dead in my tracks when it flies open and hits the wall with a deafening thud.

  No way!

  9

  Eliza

  My gaze goes from Brax to my grinning brother and back to Brax again. What the hell is going on here and why is Derek sitting there smiling like the village idiot?

  “Eliza,” Brax says and crosses the room until he’s standing close. His heat reaches out to me, and when I catch his warm familiar scent, all I want to do is throw myself into his arms, forget that cruel breakup and pick up where we left off last night. But my best friend is right. We need to talk and I need to be honest.

  “What…what are you doing here?” he asks, his brow furrowed, his body tense like he’s bracing himself. Like I have bad news.

  “You weren’t at home, or the office, so I thought I’d try here.”

  “You’ve been looking for me, Liza?” he asks, his hard features softening as he puts his fingers on my arm and slightly strokes. “You came here for me?”

  “Yes, I came here for you, Brax.” I jerk my finger behind me as my eyes search his. “What the hell was all that back there, anyway?”

  He shrugs, but his mood is suddenly different from this morning. Lighter. Could that be because the ruse is over and he’s free of me. Jesus, don’t let me be wrong about us—don’t let this be some made up fairy tale in my head.

  “Just giving you what you wanted.”

  “Brax,” I shift from one foot to the together.

  Tell him how you feel already.

  He moves closer, hovering over me, making it impossible to think. “Yeah?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “I know, that’s why I was coming back for you.”

  My pulse jumps in my throat, a bevy of emotions tumbling inside me. “You were?”

  Brax was coming back for me?

  Breathless, I glance at my brother, who is watching us carefully, too carefully.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t be having this conversation right here,” I say and lower my voice. I’m not sure how Derek will feel about his best friend and sister in bed together.

  “Derek knows we slept together. I told him,” he says bluntly.

  My jaw drops open. “You did? Why?”

  “Because he’s my best friend, and I needed to tell him I slept with you because I’m in love with you.” He gives me a sheepish grin. “But apparently he already knew that.”

  Brax loves me!

  My legs nearly give beneath me, but Brax is there, his arms around me, anchoring my body to his, and coming to my rescue once again. I glance at his handsome face, take in the weariness beneath his eyes. A weariness that says he’s been going through his own personal kind of hell, too.

  “I…I don’t understand. Why didn’t you say something?” Then again, why didn’t I? “Why did you break it off in front of everyone? After last night in the kitchen…the way you opened yourself up to me…I thought…”

  “I gave you everything, Eliza, but when I saw Jason’s hands on you this morning I realized two things. You were finally getting what you wanted, and what you wanted wasn’t me.”

  I glance down, and my hair falls into my eyes. “I…I…don’t want him, Brax. I’m not sure I ever did.”

  Brax touches my chin, lifts my face, and brushes my hair back. There is a new intensity about him as those deep blue eyes stare into mine, like he can see into the depths of my soul. “Who do you want, Eliza?” he asks, everything in his expression telling me our games, our ruse, is behind us. He wants straight-up honesty from me, and that’s what I plan to give him.

  Throat tight, and my chest expanding with everything I feel for this man, I blurt out, “I want you.”

  He lets out a heaving breath, like he’s been holding it for days. “That’s a good fucking thing, because I have a confession to make.”

  “You…do?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I do.” He presses his lips to my forehead, then inches back to meet my eyes. “I wanted you my whole life, Liza. Jesus, that time you kissed me at the kitchen table nearly killed me.”

  “But you laughed at me.”

  He touches my face. “I know. I’ve always regretted being cruel to you, but I wanted you so much. I just didn’t know how to deal with it. I was young. Stupid.” He cups my cheek, brushes his thumb over my bottom lip. “Do you know why I took you in the kitchen like that last night?” I shake my head. “I wanted to get caught. I wanted Jason to see us, to see that you were mine and not his. I know how fucked up that sounds…” He shakes his head, and lets his words fall off.

  “No more fucked up than me asking you to pretend to be my boyfriend.” My heart is pounding so fast, it’s hard to breathe, let along talk. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

  “I was warned to stay away from you.”

  I blink up at him, trying to sort through what he’s telling me. “I don’t understand.”

  He makes a sound, a half laugh, half groan. “Your brother was so protective of you. He warned me to stay away. I agreed, because he was family. The only real family I ever had. I couldn’t risk losing him from my life.”

  “You had a mom and dad, what are you talking about?”

  “I know, but they were never there. We didn’t have sit-down dinners like you guys did. We didn’t talk about our day, our feelings, our plans. We didn’t go to the beach together, or on picnics.”

  I touch his face, run my fingers along the bristles. “I didn’t realize any of this, Brax. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I’m okay. I had Derek, your mother…you. I couldn’t risk losing any of that. But Liza, I can’t keep going on the way I’ve been going.”

  “Seattle’s Most Eligible Bachelor?”

  His brow furrows. He hates being called that as much as I have being called Lizard.

  “I was never that. That was hype.”

  I nod. “I have a confession, too.” He arches a brow. “I think on some level I asked you to come to the retreat and pretend to be my boyfriend because all along it was you I wanted. I was hoping the weekend would have ended differently.” My mind races back to the breakup. “You caused quite the scene, Brax.” My heart squeezes, worried about the repercussions of his actions. “I can’t imagine what everyone is saying about you right now.”

  “I don’t care.”

  My head rears back. “You don’t?”

  “I only care what you, Derek, and your mom think of me.”

  I go up on my toes, press my lips to his for a deep, soul-searing kiss. “Does that tell you how I feel?”

  He holds me to him and his heart pounds hard against my body and he gives me a teasing grin. “Yes, and I think it’s time for me to tell you what I want.” He gives me a playful wink. “You know, for agreeing to help you this weekend.”

  The shift in his mood warms me to the depths of my soul, and I laugh, giddiness welling up inside me. “Oh, really?”

  “Yeah, I want you, Eliza. I want you in my arms, and in my bed. I want you in my life…forever.”

  A gasp catches in my throat. “Are you asking me—”

  His eyes sober, hold me captive. “I’m asking you to marry me, and since you love my house overlooking the bay, we can live there together, and fill it with kids. Say yes, Eliza. Say yes and together we’ll turn my house into a home.”

  I swallow against the tears pressing against the back of my eyes. “I thought you didn’t believe in marriage or family?”

  “I used to say that, used to blame it on my parents’ loveless marriage, blame it on the fact that I didn’t really have a father figure, and wouldn’t know how to be a good husband or dad. But the truth is, I only ever
wanted to marry you. No one else ever compared.”

  “I never believed in marriage either,” I say as a tear drips down my face.

  He brushes it away and gives me a warm smile. “I know.”

  “I painted all rich guys with the same brush as my father.”

  He runs the backs of his fingers over my cheek. “I’m not him. I’d never do anything to hurt you, Liza.”

  “I know that.” I briefly close my eyes, take a second to go over this amazing turn of events. When I open them again, I find Brax staring at me, his gaze so full of love that my heart nearly explodes. “I said I never believed in marriage, but I believe in you, Brax, and that’s all I need.”

  “What exactly are you saying, Eliza?”

  “I’m saying yes. Yes to being in your arms, your bed, and your life forever.” He presses his lips to mine, and despite the audience, kisses me with everything he has inside him—holding nothing back this time—and I know I’m the luckiest girl in the world.

  Someone clears their throat and we break apart to find Derek standing next to us. We were so lost in each other, we didn’t even hear his approach.

  “Looks like I’m going to be part of the family, bro,” Brax says, pulling me against him and holding me tight as he puts a hand on Derek’s shoulder.

  Brax puts his arms around both of us for a group hug. “You always were, Brax. You always were.”

  After a long moment, Derek breaks the hug, takes a measured step back, and glares at my fiancé. His look is hard, deadly, as he curls his fingers at his sides. “So, you slept with my sister, without coming to me first,” he says. “You broke the bro code, dude.”

  Brax scrubs his chin and takes two steps back, like he knew this was coming. “Oh, shit.”

  Afterword

  Thank You!

  * * *

  Thank you so much for reading, Confessions of a Bad Boy Millionaire. I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I loved writing it. Please keep reading for an excerpt of Confessions of a Bad Boy Gamer.

  * * *

  Interested in leaving a review? Please do! Reviews help readers connect with books that work for them. I appreciate all reviews, whether positive or negative.

  * * *

  Happy Reading,

  Cathryn

  Confessions of a Bad Boy Gamer

  Raelynn

  Not this again!

  Christ, I am so sick and tired of everyone mistaking me for my twin sister, Saralynn. I’m not her. Don’t want to be her. Ever. I mean who would want all the media attention, every hot guy in the universe drooling at your manicured toes, all the women in the world dressing like you and singing your songs. Certainly not me.

  Yeah right.

  We might look alike, but my sister clearly has a spark that I lack, a spark that has brought her fame and fortune in the music business, reaching double platinum with her last album. Me, well, I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. The last time I tried to sing, one of my neighbors knocked on my door. Apparently they thought I was inside torturing a cat. What the hell, right? I love cats. Which is a good thing, because the way my love life is going, I’ll soon be collecting them.

  I stopped trying to hone my voice after that, leaving the stage to my very talented sister, who I love truly and dearly. I’m better off sticking to my day job, teaching work/life balance to stressed-out, overworked employees. It’s a job I love, and while I resigned myself to the fact that I can’t sing, it doesn’t stop me from belting out lyrics in the shower every now and then. Where no one can hear, of course.

  “Saralynn, wait up,” the man across the street screams out, frantically waving what looks like a restaurant napkin in the air.

  I should just stop and give him an autograph, pretend to be my sister, who is currently back home here in Baltimore, taking a show business break at our folks’ house—hence the frenzy of fans on the streets looking for her. Then again, we hadn’t played the switcheroo game since we were kids, and if I stop for one man, soon enough I’ll be swarmed, drawing unwanted attention from hundreds of guys. Unlike Saralynn, I’m on the shy side and prefer to keep a low profile, and all that male attention would be horrible, right?

  Yeah right.

  Then again, she did have a stalker a couple years ago, and that was pretty damn scary for all of us. A shiver skips down my spine, and the hairs on the back of my neck tingle in warning. Since I’m not one to ignore my intuition, I pick up the pace and round the corner.

  “Look, it’s Saralynn,” another guy yells, and when I hear numerous footsteps pounding the pavement behind me, I panic. What if it’s another stalker? My jog turns into a full-on run—a difficult task in a pencil skirt and heels. I scan the street, eager to find a place to hide out before I get bombarded—or kidnapped. Yes, I do have a wild imagination.

  I glance up in time to see Pat’s Irish Pub. I used to go to high school with Sean Collins, whose family owns the place. What would Saralynn do in a situation like this? I try to think like her, and instantly an idea takes form. I pull open the door, steal a quick glance around until I find the biggest guy, then rush up to him.

  “There you are,” I say, as the door flings opens behind me, my sister’s feverish fans racing after me.

  As the guy sets his motorcycle helmet on the table, and peels a leather jacket from his hard body, I go up on my toes, slide my hands over his broad shoulders, and kiss him right on the lips.

  He goes still, his lips frozen in place, as I steal a sideways glance and take in the men at the door. I look back at my pretend boyfriend; catch the flicker of familiarity in his blue eye. He blinks, angles his head to see the men who’ve followed me in, then turns back to me. Understanding dances in his eyes, and I’m grateful that underneath a hard, inked body, the guy has a brain.

  He slides his big hands around my waist and drags me to him. Wow, that probably shouldn’t feel so nice.

  “I’ve waited my whole life for this,” he whispers, the deep rumble in his voice doing ridiculous things to the dormant spot between my legs. He grins and plays along, obviously having put two and two together—I’m famous singer Saralynn Walker, trying to deter a group of men from swarming me. His lips find mine again, and he picks me clear off the floor as he kisses me, letting the men in the room know I’m off limits and they better back off, or else…

  The door slams shut, and I feel a measure of comfort. With the mob gone, I should break the kiss, put an end to the charade. Yeah, I should probably stop touching him, kissing him back, imagining what his lethal body would feel like naked, lying over mine.

  So why aren’t I?

  Oh, probably because I haven’t been kissed like this in…ever. His tongue slides into my mouth, tangles with mine, and a groan I have no control over crawls out of my throat. Is he even aware the guys are gone? That we no longer have to put on a show?

  God, I hope not.

  He angles his head, the kiss deepening, expanding, and my traitorous nipples harden, press against his chest through my blouse, alerting him to my arousal. When someone nearby clears their throat, and mumbles something about getting a room, he breaks the kiss, but continues to hold me against his rock-hard, solid body.

  “They’re…gone,” I say breathlessly and gesture with a nod toward the door. “Thanks for…help…ing…me.” What is going on with my voice? Singing might be out of the question, but now I can’t even talk? Good lord. His hands slacken around my rib cage and I slide down his body, enjoying every glorious inch as he sets me back on my feet.

  “Anything for you,” he says.

  More like anything for Saralynn.

  He angles his head, that spark of familiarity back in his eyes. He opens his mouth to say something, and I blurt out, “I’m Saralynn Walker.”

  OMFG. What the hell am I doing?

  He frowns, and looks down for a moment, like he’s trying to piece something together. When his gaze lifts back to mine, and black pupils expand, bleed into his gorgeous blue irises, my stomach flutters.r />
  What the ever-loving fuck is going on with me? Inked biker dude is hot, drop-dead gorgeous for sure, but no man—a stranger at that—had ever turned my knees to Jell-O before. I pulse deep between my legs, and I’m sure if I squeeze them together I’ll orgasm right on the spot.

  “I know who you are,” he says, and for a second it seems like he can see through me, right to my lie. But that’s impossible. We don’t know each other. “I’m Nate.”

  “Nate…” I say, trying it out on my tongue, wondering how it would sound when I’m pinned beneath him, scoring his skin with my nails as he fills me, bringing me to sweet release. The only time I’d ever been able to climax was with Mr. Right—the man-made boyfriend I keep tucked away in my nightstand drawer. Damned if I don’t want to give this guy a chance to try though. I just bet he’s very familiar with a woman’s body and how to send her freefalling without a net.

  I give a shake of my head as my thoughts run away from me. Jeez, it’s clear I’ve gone too long without a man’s touch, if I’m standing here drooling over a complete stranger.

  Get it together, Rae.

  A sexy grin reveals a dimple on his left cheek. Despite just silently lecturing myself, I take him in, let my gaze roam over his face. Do I know him? Nah, I’d never forget a guy like Nate.

  “I’d shake your hand, but I think we’re well past that, don’t you?” he teases.

  “Yeah,” I reply. “Thanks for that.”

  “Hard, huh?” he says.

  I falter backwards slightly, and my gaze dashes to his crotch. Holy shit, what am I doing? He’s not talking about himself being hard, although he does have a very nice bulge happening in his current un-aroused state. What the hell is he working with down there?

  I dare you to find out.

  Wait! What? No. No. No. I silently chant to hush that inner voice.