by Ivy Blake
No loans, no debt, no nothing.
Which was especially helpful since I found out that I was pregnant.
I wasn’t showing yet, so I was still able to perform. I had told the owner of the club earlier that evening, and because of my fan base that I created, he was happy to keep me on staff, even after the baby was born.
I had told Foster right after I took my pregnancy test, and to my surprise he was ecstatic about it. I couldn’t believe I was excited as well, but I truly was. I never thought that I wanted kids, until that pregnancy test came back positive. Now it was all I could think about. I was going to start a family with Foster, and I couldn’t be happier.
The song faded to an end and the crowd roared and hollered. I took a small little bow, keeping my mysterious smirk plastered onto my face before I turned around to head offstage. I caught some movement at the corner of the stage, a man with a broad smile and flowers in his hand, and I became excited when I realized it was Foster.
Foster had come to see me perform.
I sauntered offstage before I raced back into the dressing room. I put on my robe before I pushed through the doors, and Foster was there waiting for me in the hallway. I ran to him, a massive smile on my face, and he picked me up and swung me around in his arms before he peppered kisses in the crook of my neck.
“You were fabulous,” he said.
“I take it the roses are for me?” I asked.
“But, of course.”
I took the bouquet from his hands and took a deep sniff of their scent. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as I felt Foster’s arm wrap around my back, then I felt his lips Ella the shell of my ear. I shivered at his touch, becoming weak in the knees as my body leaned into his strength. I was so glad I was done for the night. I honestly wasn’t sure if I’d make it back up onto the stage feeling like this.
“Have dinner with me tonight,” he said.
I got changed quickly and we headed to a late dinner, but I could tell something was on his mind. The car ride was fairly silent even though I tried to fill it with conversation, and it wasn’t until we sat down for dinner that I saw his wall drop. His eyes hung heavily upon mine as I grew nervous in my seat, and for a split second I thought something had happened with the renovations.
The question that flew from his lips, however, stunned me into silence.
“I want you to move in with me,” he said.
I sat there, studying him as the flowers sat on the edge of the table. My mind whirled with all the implications that would mean, but my gut reaction was to smile. Tears pooled around my eyes and I felt my hands beginning to shake, and it took me a second to gather my thoughts before I could give him my answer.
“My condo isn’t even done yet,” I said.
“You could redo my place, if you’d like.”
“I was kind of liking the furnishings you guys were installing in the place. I’m not sure if The Conrad could keep up,” I said, winking.
“You could make it your own. Repaint the walls. Redecorate. Add a nursery. Switch out all the furniture for all I care. Just… move in with me, Ella.”
“Hmmm… I don’t know. I might have to go back and get a good look at the place.”
“You mean you haven’t already?” he asked.
“I’ve gotten a good look at the pillows on your bed,” I said, smirking.
“Fine. We can get our dinner to-go.”
The chef packed up our ordered dinner and we headed back to his apartment. We sailed all the way up The Conrad to the 36th floor before the elevator dumped us out into his home, and immediately I began to clock things I wanted to change.
“There’s just so much… white,” I said. “I’ll get lipstick everywhere.”
“Then change it all to crimson so it blends in,” he said.
“And the gray is so striking. Maybe a mute color, like tan or champagne.”
“Anything you want,” he said behind me.
“And your tub is beautiful, but it doesn’t have jets. We’ll definitely have to replace it with one that has jets.”
“I’ll buy you a fleet of jets if it’ll make you stay,” he said.
“Oh, I don’t want airplanes, Foster,” I said, turning around. “I just want to enjoy relaxing evenings with you, and our child.”
“Does that mean you’ll move in?” He walked towards me, stalking me slowly as my eyes danced between his. I felt my body flush in his wake, rising to attention as my nipples began to harden underneath my bra. His hands slipped around my waist, pulling me close to his raging cock I could feel growing underneath his pants.
I stood on my tiptoes and brought my lips to his before I whispered the answer that would change my life forever.
“I guess so.”
His lips captured mine and my hands flew to his hair. His arms cloaked my back, bending me backwards as the moonlight above the city painted our bodies in its glow. Our tongues danced, licking each other like licks of fire reach for the wind, and suddenly I felt myself being lifted off my feet. In Foster’s arms, I didn’t simply feel beautiful. I felt wanted.
Safe.
Important.
“What’s your opinion of my bed?” he asked.
“I suppose it’s not bad. Though, I might need a second look at the frame. That might need changing.”
“Then why don’t we go take a look at it?” he asked deviously.
“Under one condition.”
“Anything,” he said.
“Never let me go.”
His eyes softened for just a second before his lips lightly landed upon mine. This time, the kiss was less hurried. Less forceful and more sensual. My body keened into his as his arms pulled me closer into his chest, and suddenly I felt my body come alive. I was about to start this new leg of my life with a man I simply couldn’t get enough of.
The words that fluttered from his lips to mine warmed me in ways I’d never experienced before. They solidified for me every choice I’d made in my life up until this point, and they made me more comfortable and excited for the future I was embarking upon. This man had captured every single part of me, and I knew for a fact he would do everything in his power to protect the woman he was cradling into his body.
“You never have to worry about that.”
Wanted
A Bad Boy Billionaire Auction Romance
By Nicole Elliot
Prologue
I held his hand as he winced, the medicine pumping through his body.
“Just a little longer Declan, you can do it.” I wasn’t sure if I was reassuring him, or myself. Watching him writhe in pain was about as horrible as it could get.
My brother.
Sick.
Same illness that took Mom. Our genes apparently sucked.
“It hurts.” He grimaced as another wave rolled through his body.
“I know buddy, I know, but this is going to make it better. I promise.”
I knew it wasn’t a promise I could keep. But I was sure as hell going to try.
Chapter 1
Sydney
The light wasn’t on in the house, as I pulled into the driveway. Julia’s funky Mini Cooper wasn’t there either, so I snatched the nicer spot under a tree, which would provide a cool shade for the car the next morning. I killed the engine and stepped out.
It was half past eight, and after the long day at the store, all I wanted was something to eat and a glass of Pinot. I was working at a grocery store, even though it wasn’t exactly my passion. I was a teacher during the school year, but now that it was summer I had to supplement my income. It was the thing about me – I was practical. Always doing what was right, even if it wasn’t easy.
My roommate, Julia, wasn’t as traditional. After we’d finished college, she tried several desk jobs, but couldn’t just sit in one place. So, she waited tables for a while, then worked the bar, and after a few more promotions she became a PR manager for a company that owned clubs and restaurants all over Chicago. It might h
ave been a more exciting job, but she didn’t like the hours.
That night, as was often the case, Julia was out in the city, promoting one event or another.
I climbed the two flights of stairs that led to my apartment, and was finally home.
I got out of my work clothes and changed into PJs, washing my face in the small bathroom next to my room. It wasn’t a huge apartment, but both Julia and I had our own bathrooms, and I loved mine. It made me feel at home.
As I was making my way to the fridge, my cell phone began ringing. I had to turn around, mid chewing and swallowing, ever so hungry, and go back into the bedroom to answer it.
“Hey, Syd,” the voice on the other end said. “Is this a good time?”
“Hey Declan! Yeah, I just got home. How are you?”
There was a short pause, as if he was hesitant. Classic Declan. “I was just in the area, and I got some Chinese, so…”
“Oh, yes, please!” I said, looking inside the fridge and seeing a lot of ingredients, but no food. “And hurry up!”
Declan hung up, and I got out a cold bottle of wine and some snacks to go with it. Once I settled comfortably on the couch, I poured the wine and waited for Declan, flicking through the TV Shows category on my TV. After a few minutes, I settled on a random episode of Friends, which was my go-to remedy.
The door was unlocked, and halfway into the episode (and a glass of wine), I heard Declan let himself in.
With the glass still in hand, I went to greet him, landing a big hug and grabbing the plastic bags of Chinese he brought.
“You couldn’t wait five minutes, Syd?” he asked, looking at me with a smile.
“First of all, it was more like twenty. Second of all, you look good, Declan. Put on some weight?”
“Oh, fuck off,” he said with a thin smile.
“I’m glad to see you.”
The truth was, Declan didn’t look good. In fact, he looked worse. He was even paler, if that was even possible, and leaner, his clothes now seemingly oversized and baggy. He looked older.
Declan stepped out of his shoes and crashed on the couch. There was something odd about him, a look or embarrassment I knew all too well. I didn’t say anything at first, simply got the food out of the plastic bags and joined him in front of the TV, salivating.
“Is this for me?” he asked, meaning the wine.
I nodded. “Only half a glass, okay?”
Declan didn’t have to ask my permission, but he was being nice. Back before the treatments began, he would have had no problem downing the whole bottle on his own, but now we had to be cautious. Even half a glass was worthy of a celebratory amount, and there was nothing to celebrate. He dropped a white envelope on the table.
I said, “Another bill?”
“Yup. Due next month.”
“Right.”
There was an awkward pause. I hated the awkwardness. I hated that my brother was sick, and how miserable it made him feel. Made both of us feel. And then there was yet another bill to pay. I could only guess how much longer we could keep it up. It was one of those times I really wished our mother was here to give some advice – she had always been the practical one. Our dad had been more into religion, but prayers weren’t working anymore.
I, on the other hand, was doing my best. Declan had burned through his college savings over the past year, and I had been working overtime for the past few months. It was consuming our lives.
I sipped the wine. It was cold and bittersweet on my lips. Rachel and Ross in the background pulled me out of my thoughts.
“I got it, Declan, don’t worry,” I said.
“I’m sorry Syd,” he replied, looking at the TV screen.
“Hey, don’t turn it into a pity party. You don’t have anything to be sorry about.” I paused but he didn’t respond. “Let’s eat dinner.”
We watched the show and talked about nothing in particular, just having a family night, like in the good old days.
Declan barely touched his food, but emptied my glass rather quickly and relaxed on the couch. He had become withdrawn lately, and I couldn’t blame him. The elephant was in the room, and sometimes it was hard to ignore.
“Hey, cheer up, okay?” I said, mostly to myself. “We’ll figure it out, and you’ll get better.”
He looked at me, as if saying Do you really believe that?
I was used this look, so I nodded, thinking that perhaps it was the wine giving me the optimism. Either way, I’d take it.
We watched another episode, as I finished my noodles. When it ended, I said, “Do you want to stay here tonight? Julia will be back late, so…”
“Nah. I’ll head home, read a book. I don’t sleep much, anyway. Thanks for letting me invite myself.” He began to get up, slowly, minding his balance.
“I’m here for you, Declan. You just let me know if you need anything. Keep your phone nearby.”
“Always do, don’t I?” his phone was in his hand, and I saw the Uber app was open on it.
“Good. I’ll try to visit you over the weekend, okay? And I’ll take care of that bill, so don’t stress about it.”
He nodded wistfully, looking aside. “Thank you.”
“Don’t even mention it.” I kissed his cheek and watched him leave.
I wasn’t honest with him. I was short on money, and would have to borrow some from Julia and some other friends, if I wanted to pay that bill before the end of the month.
Quietly desperate, I sat back down in front of the TV, poured myself another glass and finished Declan’s food. Just like the good old days.
Just moments later, the front door swung open, and Julia stepped in. She walked straight to the table and landed in the armchair. “I’m exhausted!” She proclaimed. “Oh, and I met Declan downstairs! Asked him if he put on weight.”
“Did he tell you to fuck off?”
“He did!”
That put a smile on my lips. Julia checked out the bottle, and took a sip from my glass.
“Yum!”
“Get another bottle,” I suggested, finishing the wine.
At first, Julia was about to get up, but then I sensed something was amiss. She grabbed the bill from the table. “Shit! They’re still chasing you for treatment payment. What the fuck is insurance for these days? How is he feeling anyway?”
“He’s making it.” Now I was feeling the same way my brother had felt. I said, “But the money is bad, Julia. I don’t mean to beg or anything, just letting you know.”
“How much?” my friend asked, reaching into her handbag.
I grinned, “In the long run, more than you could possibly have in your wallet, so, please, don’t.”
Not yet anyway, I wanted to look at my own bank account first, see how dire this all really was.
“Wasn’t going to.” Instead of a wallet, Julia produced a bunch of colorful fliers and began sifting through them. “It must be somewhere in here… Got it!”
She handed me a crumpled piece of paper. There was a carnival mask at the top, with Chicago Buyer’s Club written below it. There was a date and a phone number, but little else.
“I got it from a friend. There’s this fancy place, where billionaires look for girls to go on dates with, sort of like The Bachelor.”
“You’re suggesting I prostitute myself?”
“Not at all! It’s a legit thing. You go there to hang out, find a guy, have a few drinks. It’s a paid gig, I’m told, too, so I thought you could use that…”
“Right. Well, I don’t think I could.”
Julia sighed, then shrugged. “Look, you don’t have to, but think about it. Give them a call.”
“Yeah maybe, I gotta go to the bathroom.” I needed a minute. To process. To escape. With that, I left, leaving her alone with my phone, wine, and the flier that could change my life.
Chapter 2
Owen
I was getting pissed. I’d spent the last hour on the phone, dealing with the worst customer support I had ever encountered.<
br />
As smooth jazz played on the other end of the line, I looked down on Grant Park through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my top-floor office in the center of the Loop, the largest financial district in the country. In a way, I was grateful for the pause and the rare moments I could take to contemplate my business, my life, and everything.
And there was a lot to think about. My roots were in Chicago, as was my business, but lately I felt like I needed a change…
“Mr. Hayes?” a woman on the other end said, bringing me back to reality. It was a new voice – I guessed I was now speaking to the head manager, or whoever was in charge of that shitty showroom. “My name is…”
I cleared my throat, loudly interrupting the woman. I had calmed down some, and was able to speak, respectfully, yet firmly.
I said, “Let me tell you something. I trust you’re well aware of who I am, and by now I hope to God you understand what I’m asking of you. Please, don’t waste any more of my very valuable time today. I need this done as we agreed, by Monday. I don’t care what’s stopping you. Contact my assistant if you need any help.”
I ended the call, tossing the phone on the couch in the middle of the office. Normally, I wouldn’t have cared to speak to some low-tier manager, but the last couple of days made me want to find any excuse not to speak to the law firm. Business had been great, but every once in a while, certain government agencies would set out on a witch-hunt, and I would have to find and navigate certain backroads.
The speaker phone on my desk came to life: “Mr. Hayes?”
“Here, Monica,” I called, still standing inches from the window.
“Lucas Baxter is on line three. Says you have to talk to him. Says it’s important.”
“Have I ever had unimportant calls?” I smirked. “Tell him I’ll be with him in five.”
“Got it.”
There wasn’t anything for me to do in these five minutes, but I had to make my lawyer, Baxter wait. After four minutes had passed, I made my way to the desk in three strides and pressed a button.
