The Bluegrass Billionaire Trilogy: An Alpha Billionaire Romance Box Set

by Alice Ward

  Surprising me, she turned us until she was lying on top, her tongue still in my mouth. She rose up and smiled down at me. “I’m going to fuck you so hard.”

  Her eyes. Those beautiful green eyes dilated as she leaned down once again to take my lips. Open. Wet. Her tongue searched for mine as she ground her sex into my stomach.

  I grasped my cock, straightened it, waiting for her. She slid down and moaned into my mouth as we connected. I fought for control as she impaled herself on me, pushing down until I’d reached the very end of her.

  So good. An exact fit. We always had been.

  She began to move and I gripped her hips, watching her breasts sway with the rhythm. Her head thrown back as she rocked on me faster and faster.

  I sat up, until we were face to face and she cried out as her clit brushed my abs on her downward thrust. “That’s right, baby. Use me. Make yourself come.”

  Her eyes met mine, her breath warm against my face. “Oh,” she whispered as I squeezed her hips, lifting her and bringing her down hard. “Please.” I brought her down again harder and she moaned, her eyelids fluttering closed.

  “Look at me,” I demanded and she immediately did as she was told. “I love you.”

  Her eyes softened, the green growing wet as she leaned forward to kiss me again. “I love you too. So much. So very much.”

  Flipping her once again to her back, I plunged hard and she gasped. “Hold on,” I said against her ear. “This isn’t going to be gentle.”

  I thrust again. Deep and hard, feeling her body jolt beneath me. Her mouth seized mine, her fingernails scraping down my back to grab my ass. I relished the pain. The aliveness. The feelings.

  Plunging into her body. Over and over. Harder and faster. Listening to our bodies merge and slap together, the sounds echoing around the room. Her body grew tighter as she fought for release. Tighter, clamping down on me. I didn’t want this to end, but… I exploded.

  The vision of her face grew white around the edges as I was rocked by one of the most powerful orgasms of my life. My breath was harsh and my arms turned to jelly as I sank all of my weight into her willing arms.

  She was crying, her entire body trembling as I rolled us to our sides, our bodies still connected. I kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her nose, her mouth. I tasted her salty tears, breathed her scent.

  “You are my heart,” she said against my lips. “No matter what has happened in the past or what will happen in the future, I wouldn’t give anything up.”

  In that moment, I vowed never to turn away from her again, to not fall into the darkness of isolation. To stay by her side even when my brain screamed for me to run. We were better together than we were apart. Stronger.

  As her breathing slowed, I told her, “I promise to be a better man.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Auggie

  The day of Lily and Brandon’s wedding could not have been more perfect for a late fall ceremony. Just where Lily had chosen, in a flat spot in the high pasture, she had ordered erected a massive white tent filled with chairs. Guests parked down below in the normal parking areas and were ferried up the hill in golf carts festooned in white ribbons. Lily had little family so it was mostly Brandon’s family and business acquaintances in attendance. It was being whispered that he may be seeking a state congressional seat, and this provided the perfect opportunity for him to begin his campaign connections. Finally, all the LaViere family was in attendance and happily so. Mostly.

  Liane was pleasantly large with child, and we now knew it was a little boy. Hawk was at her side constantly — the weight of the baby made her rather ungainly with her thin frame. Hawk was wearing a tux as he’d been asked to stand up with Brandon. I was surprised at this but realized that Brandon thought Hawk would be a better choice than Worth. He would be paying me homage without creating discomfort, and I appreciated the gesture. He and Brandon had become friends, regardless, so the invitation had not been too unlikely.

  A newly rejuvenated Worth looked equally handsome in a dark suit with a white shirt against his tanned skin. If anything, he was more handsome than the day I’d first met him, years before in his office. I smiled at the memory of him being my very temporary psychologist, treating me at my mother’s request. Indeed, he’d been manipulating me like a spider, and I eventually found myself caught up in his web. Life with Worth would never cease to be a challenge — of that much I was certain.

  The ceremony started promptly at one o’clock, and the bride was breathtaking. Lily was a beautiful woman, and when she began her short trip down the aisle, there wasn’t an unappreciative eye to be found. Her hair was caught up high upon her head and fitted with a slender tiara that held her veil. Her dress was layers upon layers of ruffled satin, off the shoulder and with a deep V in the back that stopped just short of being indecent. She walked with such grace you might think she’d had royal training.

  Brandon was beaming from ear to ear, looking equally dapper in a black tuxedo with a white orchid lapel corsage. His hands were crossed as he watched her procession and then he reached for her as she drew near. Lily had one maid of honor; a friend she’d made since moving to Kentucky.

  Ben officiated the wedding before roughly a hundred guests. After the ceremony, the chairs were moved back and tables brought in for the wedding banquet. Guests milled around, drinking champagne and discussing the harvest or the winter to come. Brandon’s acquaintances surrounded him, encouraging him to announce his candidacy soon, but he waved them aside and said that this was Lily’s day, and they would discuss it later.

  The new couple had outdone themselves with the catering. Entrée choices included fresh lobster and shrimp, prime rib, honey-baked ham, roasted pheasant and dozens of tempting side dishes in silver bowls. We dined with crystal goblets of champagne delivered via a breathtaking ice sculpture. The wedding cake had tiers of white cake topped with whipped cream, strawberries, and shaved chocolate. I ate so much I could hardly move.

  After the dinner, the tables of food were moved aside. A small dance area was set up with a portable floor and a raised dais for a Dixieland jazz band. Lights had been strung through the framework of the tent and it glowed. A full bar had been set up, and the guests were having the time of their lives.

  We had settled in a remote corner, not dancing, of course. Liane was showing her fatigue, and I wondered whether she should go home. I suggested it, but she refused.

  I smiled as I watched Mark on the dancefloor, waltzing very, very slowly with Brandon’s niece. He and Jessica were laughing, both of their heads thrown back. Just then, the flash of a camera went off and I saw the photographer. I must remember to ask for that photo. I felt sure it would be perfect.

  Worth and Hawk were both drinking, although they appeared perfectly sober. Father and son could hold their liquor. A few of the older guests were seated nearby, and the conversation was lively. I was relaxed and sitting back, just watching all the faces of people I’d known for so long.

  When Worth and Hawk began discussing the farm, I sort of listened in, although I couldn’t hear everything, mostly watch. I held my breath when I realized Worth was talking about turning over the farm to him. Hawk’s face grew dark, however, and his body language changed entirely.

  Liane leaned over and said in a low voice, “Auggie, stop them. Something’s very wrong. I can feel it. Hawk is ready to fight.”

  No sooner were the words out of her mouth than both men were on their feet, shouting at one another. If the band hadn’t been so loud, the entire crowd would have stopped to watch them. As it was, only those of us in the corner witnessed it. I guess most people just assumed they were too drunk.

  I started to stand, but Marga, who was sitting next to me, pulled me back into my chair. “Leave them alone, Mom. Stay out of it. You’ll only make it worse.” I turned to look at her and saw the alarm on her face. Her eyes were on the men.

  Looking back, I gasped when Hawk shoved Worth, hard. Worth staggered backward, surprise o
n his face that instantly changed to rage. He charged Hawk and when he did, Hawk fell backward and Liane, who was directly in their path, shifted awkwardly to get out of their way. She couldn’t move quickly enough, however, and was crushed to the ground beneath two chairs and the weight of the men thrashing on top of her.

  I screamed, as did Marga. We scrambled to help Liane, but she’d been knocked unconscious. Some of the others nearby leapt up to help us, but Worth and Hawk were so enmeshed in their scuffle they didn’t even notice. Worth punched Hawk in the jaw, and as his head swiveled, he caught sight of Liane. The fight drained out of him, and he dropped to the ground instantly to avoid Worth’s attack and spun around toward her.

  With Herculean strength, he tossed the chairs aside and picked her up. She was limp in his arms, and he charged with her out of the tent out to one of the waiting carts and were soon speeding down the pasture toward the house, Hawk holding Liane against his chest.

  I sent Marga to get Liane’s dad and her brother, then grabbed Worth by the tie and dragged him behind me outside to another cart. We followed the ambulance with Ben, Mark, and Marga in the back seat. I drove because Worth’s head was still spinning from the encounter and too much alcohol. We arrived downtown and parked outside the emergency room. Hawk was waiting inside; they had taken Liane off to do an ultrasound for the baby. “How are they?” I asked, hugging him.

  “She came conscious in the ambulance, but there’s blood coming from her. Her dress was soaked, and the EMT was trying to staunch it. They put her on an IV, and she started moaning about her stomach hurting. I’m afraid, Mom, really afraid.”

  Worth stood behind me, his face ashen. His arms were outspread in helplessness. Hawk gave him one withering glance, then took Ben over to the chairs nearest the examining room to wait. There was nothing left for us to do but sit and wait as well.

  What a hideous sight we must have been. Hawk and Worth were both bloodied, their jackets torn and shirts ripped open. Their eyes shot flames at one another and the vicar was busy praying. Marga was crying, Mark holding her hand, and I can only remember sitting in shock.

  How could this have happened? Would it ever stop?

  The doctor came out and told Hawk and Ben briefly that while the baby was still viable, there were signs of distress. Liane was hemorrhaging and had already been given blood. She was in ICU, and they were monitoring both mother and child carefully.

  “We might have to take the baby. We could lose one or both of them. The blunt force on her body caused a rupture of the amniotic sac. The baby is being expelled. The only question is whether we can deliver naturally and save the mother possible further blood loss, or if we have to take it. The baby wasn’t quite in position and may be breach. It’s complicated at this point, but we will keep you posted.”

  “I want to be with her,” Hawk jumped up to insist.

  “Not now. She’s quite weak, and we need to keep her calm. By the looks of you, you might want to go over and register and have someone look at that cut on your forehead.”

  The vicar reached out to the doctor and asked briefly, “Is there a room where we might wait privately?” The doctor pointed as he headed back down the hallway.

  Something quite unexpected happened then. Ben pointed at Worth and then at Hawk and said in a firm, no-nonsense voice, “I want to talk to you two in that room. Now! Auggie, you and the twins can choose whether or not to be there, but these two and I are going to have a talk.”

  We all stood immediately and headed for the private room. Once inside, he shut the door and leaned against it. His face was flushed, and he was perspiring. Ben loosened his collar and wiped his face with his handkerchief. “Sit down!” he ordered.

  “Now,” he began, pointing his finger at the two men, “you two are going to listen to me, and I don’t want to hear one word from either one of you. The time has come for the meek to inherit the Earth!”

  Not a sound came from either man so the vicar nodded.

  “My daughter is lying in a room with a curtain right now, trying to stay alive and to protect her unborn baby. She is in pain, and she is frightened. Why? Because the two of you cannot behave like adults and settle whatever the hell is the matter with you. I don’t care what’s behind it. I simply do not care about you at all. The most important people in my life are in there right now, fighting to live. I will not allow either of you to affect their chances. Look at you! Both of you covered with your own blood, not to mention hers. Your clothes are torn, and you’ve just made asses of yourselves in front of half the county. You’ve ruined the wedding of a wonderful couple, and you have two women sitting here who are both upset. Mark will be fine. He’s the only man in this room.”

  I squeezed both twin’s hands and swallowed, praying that my husband and son were listening to this kind man’s words. I watched them carefully, but they were motionless, both of them staring at the wall.

  “So, whatever it is between the two of you stops here. Do you hear me? It stops now!” He wiped his face with his handkerchief again and held his hand up to keep anyone from interjecting a word. “It’s evident to me that no one in this room has been properly parented. Fine. Go and seek counseling, come to church, I really don’t care. What I do care about is my daughter and grandchild; both of whom I may have to leave here without. Either way, I tell you this and swear it on the Bible. If neither one of them makes it, I will have you both arrested for murder.”

  I gasped and quickly covered my mouth with my hand.

  “Whatever version doesn’t matter to me — but you will stand trial, and you will go to prison. I will make certain of that. If you think your money counts and will get you off, you’re mistaken. There isn’t a jury in the world you can buy off when they hear the testimony of people who watched you batter that poor young, pregnant woman — the daughter of an aging vicar. In England, you’d hang!” He looked at both men. “Now, have I made myself perfectly clear?”

  I looked at Hawk, and he was sobbing, his head in his hands. Worth was pale and looked more helpless than I’d ever seen him. He nodded at the vicar and wrapped his arms around Hawk. “He’s right, son. It stops here. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

  Hawk nodded, although it was barely perceptible from the shudder of his tears. But he held onto his father like a raft in a turbulent sea.

  I was crying so hard I could barely see Ben as he left the room. I cried harder as Mark stood and shuffled over to his brother and father, enfolding them both in a hug.

  Marga was wiping away tears as she stood, pulling me up with her. “Let’s give them some time,” she whispered and I just gazed at her. The daughter was wiser than the mother.

  Down the hall, we found Ben standing before a cross hanging on the wall. He was praying, his hands folded, his eyes closed. Very gently, Marga steered me to the waiting area and pushed me down into a chair. “I’ll get you a cup of tea.”

  I watched the hands on the clock move as the tea cooled in my hands. Thankfully they knew enough to put an analog clock with a second hand there; otherwise, time would stand still. Footsteps echoed down the hall, and I turned to see Hawk, Worth and Mark heading our way. Tears were streaming down their faces, seeming to have washed away their anger.

  Back in the waiting room, Hawk began pacing again. Ten steps to the left. Ten to the right. I noticed that Worth’s eyes didn’t leave him. He looked heartbroken for his son.

  A door slammed open, and we all whirled around to see a gurney being wheeled toward us, turning sharply toward the elevators. A very pale, very tearful Liane lay aboard. Hawk lunged to her side, calling her name. “We’re taking her to the OR,” barked the doctor. “We can’t wait any longer. She’s losing too much blood. You can follow us to the third floor in another elevator.” The doors opened, and they disappeared inside. Hawk was madly punching the elevator button, but Marga reached forward and took hold of his arm.

  “You’ll only screw it up, Hawk. Stand back and let me do this.” She calmly pushed the button
and then stood back enough to watch the car’s progression by the lighted numbers overhead. The doors opened, and we all crowded inside. Marga tapped the button for the third floor, and soon we burst out into a corridor. A sign directed us to an OR waiting room, and that’s where we headed.

  A half hour passed and there was no word. “Should it be taking this long?” Hawk groaned.

  No one said a word. Marga stood up and paced a bit, peeking down the hallway for some advance glimpse of the doctor. Suddenly, she twirled toward us and beckoned madly, pointing down the hall.

  We crowded around the doctor. “Congratulations, Mr. LaViere, you have a tiny, but healthy baby son. Mrs. LaViere has been taken to the ICU where she will be monitored. We expect her to survive, but she’s not out of the woods yet.”

  I held my hand over my mouth to stifle the cry of relief. When Hawk’s legs buckled, Worth stepped over quickly to hold him up. Ben stood on his other side. Mark placed a hand on his shoulder while Marga began to cry again in earnest.

  “Your son will be in the NICU, but you won’t be able to visit until the doctors there have examined and stabilized him. He may require a breathing apparatus. Even then, only the father is permitted at first. I would appreciate if you would wait an hour before trying to see your wife. They will be settling her in the room and hooking up monitoring equipment. If nothing unexpected arises, she has a very good chance. Tomorrow will tell us much more.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Auggie

  I sat in the sunshine next to Liane and watched the baby sleeping in his carrier, shaded by a soft baby afghan. It was nearly Christmas, but a warm spell had sent us outside. As we Kentuckians like to say, “If you don’t like the weather, wait a minute.” It was supposed to snow tomorrow.

  As tiny as Benjamin Bernard LaViere was, he could wail louder than an ambulance when hungry. He’d spent his first four weeks of life in the hospital, growing strong enough to come home. He hadn’t stopped eating since and had chubby baby cheeks to prove it.