by Leanne Brice
“Well, we usually rent it out, but mom says it’s been unoccupied for the past two months.”
“So how many houses do you guys have exactly?”
He laughs. “Well, my mom and I are down to two now, since she’s selling the main house.”
“How did you feel about that by the way? Her getting rid of the place you grew up in?”
“Well, I didn’t really grow up there. Mostly at boarding schools, so I have no real attachment to the place. Someday, though, I plan to move out of this penthouse and have a house of my own to put a family in.”
“Oh, I see. So you’re about that wife and 2.5 kids life, huh?”
“I never really felt a need for it honestly; it certainly wasn’t on my bucket list, as you would say. But it seems like a possibility now—one I might be interested in if the right girl comes along.”
I decide to leave that one alone for now.
Instead, I let myself get distracted by his growing cock.
“You’re kidding me,” I say as I stare at it. “We did it twice already!”
“Third time’s the charm?” he says before dropping to his knees.
He positions me so the shower spray is pounding my back, missing him entirely, and he spreads my legs a little then goes to town on my pussy.
I have no objections when he stands back up and positions me to take his long, hard dick again.
SATURDAY - CABIN
“This place is amazing. I love it so hard,” I say as we return to the interior of the cabin.
We got here Friday night and couldn’t explore the lush exterior in the dark, but it’s the first thing we did this morning.
Last night he gave me the grand tour of the place—a spacious three-bedroom, two-bathroom home made of cedar and stone with lots of gorgeous wood furnishings.
“You do? Then I’ll keep it for sure. In addition to thinking more seriously about that family home idea.”
“Whoa—you’ll hold on to an extra abode we might visit a few times a year just ‘cause I think it’s cool?”
“Yup. I’ll do whatever keeps that smile on your face, and that lightness to your step, because, Emma, I love you so hard.”
I gulp and everything seems to have gone still.
“Excuse me?”
“I love you, Emma. I hope I can hold on to you.”
“What makes you think you can’t?” I ask, my heart hammering my chest.
“You’re a wanderer. And if that makes you happier, I wouldn’t want to get in the way of that.”
“Are you kidding me? Part of why I was such a goddamned nomad was because I didn’t have anything like you in my life. Now that you’re here, I don’t feel the urge to keep moving. Don’t get me wrong, I’m always gonna be into traveling, but I’m stoked to have someone share it with me—it’s better that way for most trips. Do you have any idea how lonely I was most of the time out there? No matter how much I enjoyed meeting new people all the time and getting to know some a little while sleeping on their couch or whatever, the connection ended eventually. And then I was alone again. But you showed up and… I really don’t want to go back to that. I love you too, Danny, and I’m not sure you could get rid of me if you tried. Actually, you did try.”
“I failed so hard.”
He grins at me, and we move toward each other the same time and kiss.
“Boy, am I glad I didn’t chase you away,” he says once we separate our lips, but his arms remain around me. “Seems like you could really disappear once you don’t want to be found.”
My shoulders droop. “Ah, damn it—you’re making me feel bad about my dad.”
“Yeah, you guys had kind of a weird dynamic. What’s that about?”
“I caught him with another woman once, and he made me stay silent about it for a bit. But sometime after we got my mom’s cancer diagnosis, I got so mad at him, I blurted it out and Mom heard, and it was awful. I hate that she had to hear about it when she was sick and that she died knowing my Dad had broken his vows to her. Once she died, I could barely look at him. He feels guilty about everything still, so he doesn’t push me too hard, which means I get away with a lot.”
“But you love him.”
“Of course, I do.”
“You should tell him.”
“I know,” I say quietly. “But I don’t want to think about that now—this weekend is about us, remember?” I smile up at him.
He nods and we disentangle.
“So what’s on the itinerary for the rest of the day?” I ask him.
“Some hiking, fishing. Maybe a cruise, some waterskiing. We can even go horseback riding…”
“A stallion?!”
He regards me curiously. “Maybe. As for tonight, I have a chef coming by to cook us up a seafood dinner… what?”
“Sometimes I forget you’re, like, a zillionaire, and then at times like this, I remember.”
“Is that going to be a problem?”
“No, I guess I’ll find a way to deal with it,” I say with a shrug. Then I grin at him. “How about we actually rough it tomorrow, though?”
“What, like, catch and skin a squirrel? No thanks. Louis will be back to hook us up with dinner before we leave too.”
I roll my eyes.
“My mom wants to know if we’re enjoying ourselves.”
“Very much! You told her you’re keeping this place, right?”
“It’s all mine for as long as you want it.”
“Is she with my dad?”
I hear him ask if my dad’s around then he nods at me.
“Let me talk to him,” I say, holding out my hand.
“Put him on the phone,” he tells his mom before handing his phone to me.
“You okay, sweetie?” my dad asks immediately.
“Yup. Danny’s been wonderful. And this cabin is bitchin.’”
He laughs. “Well, I’m glad to hear it. I…”
“I love you, Dad. I just want you to know that. It’s been hard for me, but no matter what I’m going through, I love you.”
“I love you too, sweetie,” he says, his voice sounding strained all of a sudden.
“I’m giving Danny back to his mom,” I say, handing Danny back his phone before I get a cry-ball in my throat too.
“This is so romantic,” I tell Danny as he settles back at the dinner table. “Super classic, but very thoughtful. Even a girl like me can appreciate it.”
A mix of red and white rose petals are spread across the dinner table in a pleasing design, a gorgeous, rose-dominated bouquet in the center of it.
“I considered more candles, but there’s a lot of wood around here. I mean, I wouldn’t mind showing off my super manly saving-you-from-a-fire skills, but I’d rather not.”
I giggle.
Boy, I can’t wait to tell Becca about this.
“So…have you ever thought about getting married someday?” he asks. “Not that I’m proposing,” he adds quickly, “but are you open to that 2.5 kids life?”
I chuckle. “Well, if the right guy came along, sure,” I say with a careless shrug. “I have very specific tastes, though. He’d have to be dark-haired and tall, for one; most women love that whole tall, dark, and handsome thing—I’m no exception. And he’d probably have to have a Manhattan penthouse way too big for one person. Oh, and owning a bitchin’ cabin near a lake is a must, as well as having a mom named Daisy…”
He somehow sweeps me up from our sitting positions and plants one on me, his kiss deep and hard and full of emotion.
“So that’s a maybe,” he says after pulling away.
Laughter bubbles over in me, my heart swelling.
“I’m just saying I’d probably say yes if I ran into that particular guy.”
He laughs and I giggle with him as he spins me and kisses me again.
“I love you, Emma Winters.”
“I love you, Danny Masters. Now put me down so I can I get to that chef-prepared food.”
He throws his head back
and laughs again, and I know for a fact, that there’s no way I’d turn this guy’s offer to wed me and put me up in a big old house somewhere quiet and beautiful.
I might even be open to three whole kids.
And boy, I will spam the hell out of Becca with pics of all of them.
Epilogue
2 months later…
“I never got around to asking you why your dad calls you Dandelion,” Danny says as he brings me a glass of water. “I mean, how many nicknames do you have?”
I laugh.
It didn’t take me long to move into Danny’s penthouse, and we’ve decided to stay here for a while; we’re both huge fans of the city.
“It’s pretty dumb, actually. My grandma—his mom—bought me this outfit with a dandelion pattern on it when I was three or something. It was pretty hideous, and it apparently cracked my dad up hard when they put it on me to humor her. I was too young to get the joke at the time, and I guess it still makes him laugh thinking about it.”
“Ah, so your dad uses it to bring back that old feeling.”
“Hm. I guess. Now you—what’s up with Slingshot?”
“My mom once told me the story of David and Goliath to help encourage me, and she still uses it to remind me of my inner mightiness, I suppose. I was pretty small for my age growing up, so I had a few issues with bullies. Luckily, I caught up eventually.”
“I would say so,” I reply as I eye-fuck him, appreciating the shirtless view he has given me.
Then my eyes return to the huge-ass rock on my ring finger; I’m still not used to it.
“Do you have a secret house in Bermuda by chance?” I ask. “We could stay there for our honeymoon. Oh, wait—how do you feel about Japan?”
“Ah, I see where this is going. Japan is on your list, right? Well, we can definitely do that—it’s on my unofficial list too. And I’ve got you on the remaining items. The pyramids? Done. Wonders of the World? Done. Hit up the remaining unvisited continents? No problema. We can easily take care of all of those in the next few months. But then what?”
“A new list, I guess, since I’m set to graduate a few months from now.”
“And what might this new list include?”
“Well, since we’re getting married soon, and the baby will be here in six months or so…I don’t know—that’s a tough one; I actually feel like I’m pretty set. I’ll probably be focused on making sure he or she is healthy and happy and well-adjusted, and figure out other personal needs and wants along the way. But they would all be cherry on top—as long as you’re with me, I pretty much have everything.”
He joins me on the couch and leans toward me, his lips tugged into a slight smile.
“I couldn’t agree more,” he says before bringing his lips to mine.
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- Leanne
UP NEXT: An excerpt from my first book, The Billionaire and the Con Artist.
SYNOPSIS: She could have been the one ... until she ran off with all his cash!
AXEL - Meeting April Sumner during a weekend in Vegas? My lucky day. I don’t date. I would make an exception for April, though—she’s the kind of girl I’d marry. Of course, I don’t feel quite as confident once she runs off with all my cash…
APRIL - He’s handsome, he’s loaded, and he’ll be my amusement for the night. Axel Addison is the perfect target: an unsuspecting bad boy who thinks I only want him for his looks. But I like pretty things. And Axel Addison’s money will pay for them!Let the games begin…
The Billionaire and the Con Artist is a light and fun, steamy billionaire bad boy romance! Grab it here or continue reading for a preview!
EXCERPT
The Billionaire and the Con Artist
PROLOGUE - APRIL
I guess I’m probably going to die, I thought as I sat shivering next to the garbage bin I just checked for food, knees pulled up to my chest, my skinny arms wrapped around them.
Maybe I should have just stayed. It wasn’t so bad, was it?
A brief warmth passed through me at the memory of what it was like to be inside a cozy house, to have a consistent place to go home to every day. A familiar room.
The bedroom was all mine too—I didn’t have to share my clothes or desk or anything.
I had a solid roof over my head, at least two square meals a day.
I could easily grab blankets if it got too cold, turn on a fan if it got too warm.
I had quick, easy access to snacks...
I remembered my foster father and shivered again, this time, not from the blistering cold.
I hadn’t thought about where I’d go, what I’d do once I fled my foster home—I only knew I had to get out of there.
And now, after living on the streets, sneaking into buildings and sleeping on hard floors, subsisting on shoplifting and scraps, I wondered if it was a wise decision.
I had pretty much all I needed in that house. They hadn’t even beaten me!
Sure, my foster mom didn’t believe me or care about the night visits from my foster dad, but she had cared about making sure I was fed. That I had pencils and books for school.
This is so stupid, I thought, pulling my knees tighter as I tried to keep myself warm. It really shouldn’t rain on Christmas Day.
I wondered if it had rained the year before and I just hadn’t noticed because I was too busy opening presents, and I cursed myself from fleeing a good thing once again.
“Hey,” a voice breezed in, lightly penetrating my miserable fog.
I was sure I was hearing things when the voice drifted over to me, or at least sure it wasn’t being directed at me if it was real.
Since becoming a drifter, I realized I had become sort of invisible to the general public, an unremarkable part of the scenery.
No one tended to notice me, despite the fact that I was practically a child and obviously very alone.
I mean, a child to them—I was fifteen years old, pretty much a grown woman.
“Hey, kid,” I heard the feminine voice say again, and I looked up to find an actual woman staring at me, one who looked very real and not like a hunger-induced apparition at all.
One who wasn’t that old, but certainly wasn’t young like me.
In her twenties, maybe?
I couldn’t really tell.
People came in stark categories to me—kid, almost-adult, adult, and ancient.
The woman wasn’t a kid or almost-adult, and she certainly wasn’t ancient, so as far as I was concerned, she could be anywhere between twenty and forty.
She had light brownish eyes, dark hair and a facial scar that made it even harder to guess her age, but she was still pretty.
“You must be so cold,” the woman said sympathetically. “And hungry. I can help you. Let’s get you warm and fed and cozy. Come with me.”
The woman straightened up and extended her hand, smiling maternally.
I stared at her hand for a moment before taking it, never actually considering not going with her, of course—just momentarily trapped in disbelief that someone was actually reaching out to me. Someone wanted to help me!
I didn’t know this woman from Adam, but I just knew this kind stranger could help me stay alive.
The hazel-eyed woman would keep me safe.
CHAPTER ONE - APRIL
I take a deep breath as I exit my unremarkable, gray-stoned apartment building, unsure whether I’ll ever return to it or not.
I told my roommate I was going home to Nebraska for a few days—a total lie, of course.
I learned long ago it’s rarely beneficial to be upfront; in fact, the truth can and will work against you at every opportunity.
My roommate doesn’t need to know my true destination—if anyone comes looking for me for whatever reason, he’ll just end
up sending them on a wild goose chase.
Haha! Nebraska.
It’s my own personal little joke.
Anyway, he got last month’s rent from me, and I haven’t left a mess or anything behind so he’ll be fine if I never come back—I paid him upfront in cash for four months, first and last.
I just never wanted him to know my real name.
My sob story convinced him that I was in dire straits, a sympathetic figure that he was happy to take in, barely able to contain his surprise that a girl like me took up his Craigslist offer.
Once we met, it was all good—my assessment of him said I had nothing to fear of the shy-looking, pudgy nerd, and he was even more convinced of my damsel-in-distress state once he took in my petite, youthful form and the lost puppy eyes I gave him.
Plus, being faced with a lot of cash can magically stop people from asking too many questions. Especially guys; girls tend to be way nosier.
The cash was courtesy of a GoFundMe campaign, by the way.
Look, if someone can raise tens of thousands of dollars on Kickstarter to make a bowl of potato salad, anything goes when it comes to crowdfunding, and you would not believe how many guys are supportive of boob jobs.
Thanks, pervy Good Samaritans!
I have no intention of getting a boob job, though, despite my fabricated A-cup sob story.
I did send my biggest backers a photo of a sexy nude rack so they could be happy they helped out a poor flat-chested young girl in need and jack off to the thought of their generosity and the lewd visual for infinity.
The before and after photos were more than easy to obtain, and anyway, none of it matters, ultimately—I got what I wanted, they got what they needed.
People love easy ways of feeling good about themselves, and I’m more than happy to give it to them.
My current trip is being funded by bleeding heart animal lovers who can’t resist the photo of a pretty young blond girl crying over her sick dog.
