BILLIONAIRE’S INFATUATION
Book 1—Fixated
Scarlett Avery
Copyright © 2016 by Scarlett Avery
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.
Scarlett Avery / Absolutely Naughty Publishing
Edited by RJ Locksley
Proofread by Chrissy Becker
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental. This book is for sale to adults over 18.
Billionaire’s Infatuation / Scarlett Avery
ISBN 978-1-987943-27-6
Foreword
I can't thank you enough for purchasing this sizzling read.
I’m absolutely passionate about what I do. Once I start writing, I just can't stop.
It's taking me a whole lifetime to get to the point where I’m able to live out my dream every single day.
The captivating stories and the enigmatic characters live with me throughout the writing process. I think you'll quickly notice how much care and attention I put into each one of my romance novels.
Another thing you’ll discover about me is how much I love my readers!
To thank you for buying this romance novel, I’d love for you to lose yourself in even more sultriness, sexiness and seduction!
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***
Billionaire’s Infatuation Series
Book 1—Fixated
Book 2—Captivated
Book 3—Seduced
Book 4—Consumed
Book 5—Intoxicated
***
CHAPTER ONE
Hunter
Fucking Christ.
I bring my hands to my head, hoping that by some miracle of God I can stop it from throbbing. The pain is excruciating. It feels like my brain is about to explode any minute now all over this bed.
Where am I, anyway?
I know I’m not sleeping in my California king-size bed because if I were, my feet wouldn’t be dangling over the mattress. Being six feet five inches tall can be such an inconvenience sometimes. I must be at a chick’s house, but whose? I peer open my eyes to figure out what time it is and which part of town I’m in, but when I do, the room is spinning around me. My alcohol-soaked brain isn’t cooperating.
Shit. Hunter, buddy, you drank way too many shots of Jack Daniels last night.
As I lie there hugging my head, a woman moans next to me.
God, I hope she’s not expecting me to go for another round.
I’m still lying there in a semi-comatose state hoping I might rest for a few more minutes before peeling myself off this bed when two voices moan at the same time.
What the hell?
At first, I think God is punishing me for partying too hard last night—and pretty much every night since I came back to Los Angeles—by having me hear things, but when I hear the moans again, I know I’m in big trouble. Worried, I pop open my eyes.
Fuck.
Suddenly my headache is the least of my concerns. To my left lie two thin, naked blondes who are hugging each other like long-lost friends. The only problem is I don’t remember their names and I only have a vague recollection of how I ended up with them. If my aching balls are any indication, last night was another wild hook-up with two women more than willing to bend over backwards, pun very much intended, to satisfy my kinkiest needs.
What time is it?
I turn to my right, hoping I might have dropped my iPhone on the nightstand, but I’m out of luck. It’s lost somewhere in this house.
Or is this an apartment?
I haven’t got the faintest idea of where I am and I really need to get out of here. I push the sheet off of me and slide out of bed as quietly as I possibly can. I try to stand up, but my legs won’t cooperate. They tremble underneath me.
Not so fast, buddy, I tell myself as it becomes clear I must’ve fucked really hard last night.
I scan the bedroom, shocked by the signs of my latest sexual gluttony—skimpy pink underwear on the armchair next to the door, another pair of black ones swinging off of a lampshade, my jeans dangling from the curtain rod with my grey boxer briefs tucked into a pocket, my white shirt pooled on the floor next to two colorful pieces of clothing and some red garter belts, hot pink hooker-type high-heeled shoes lying on the floor, a pair of red sparkly kinky boots that would make a number of high-priced escorts jealous, a collection of sex toys scattered throughout the room and a box of twelve condoms that seems to have been well used.
Jesus.
I haven’t exactly been a saint lately, but it seems like I pushed the envelope way far last night… even for me. It’s so bad—or should I say it’s so good? At this point I’m really not sure anymore—that I expect the director of a low-budget adult film to barge through the door, screaming, “It’s a wrap, people.”
I take a few steps towards the window to grab my jeans when it hits me. “Collin,” I let out, louder than intended. I turn behind me to make sure I didn’t wake up the two women. Good. They’re still asleep.
Suddenly it comes flooding back to me and I remember vividly what kind of filthy shenanigans Collin and I got involved in last night. I hurry back into my clothing and drop down on my hands and knees in search of my shoes and my iPhone.
“Shit. Where are they?” I hiss.
After a few frustrating minutes it becomes clear that either I left them in the living room or I left them in the limo we hired to drive us here. I tiptoe across the room and glance one last time at the two blondes I devoured last night, still sleeping soundly, before exiting. The way they’re embracing each other so tenderly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they have a go at it when they wake up. Since they both enjoy pussy as much as they enjoy cock, I’m sure they’ll be able to amuse each other without me. Of course, it’ll never be as satisfying as my monster ten-inch cock, but I’ll be on the other side of town by the time they’re licking each other.
I shake my head. “I really need to slow down,” I say under my breath as I close the door behind me.
When I step out, I bring my hand up to shield my eyes from the early morning sun. Once I adjust to the brightness, I realize we’re inside a two-story house overlooking the Pacific Ocean. It’s one of those open-concept homes and it’s very easy from this vantage point to see the entirety of the house. This definitely isn’t a mansion, but what a view.
I turn around and there’s Collin. “I can’t believe the idiot is sleeping as if he hasn’t a care in the world,” I mumble, coming down the stairs.
I shake my head as I take him in, with his eyes shut, lying on his back, his semi-erect cock exposed, his left hand on top of a brunette’s big round ass, his right one cupping a slender ebony-skinned Amazon’s heavy tit while his legs are still intertwined with the little Asian whose fake silicon tits rise and fall with every breath. Contrary to the other three, her head is resting at the foot of the sofa bed they’re all sharing. Collin has the biggest grin across his face. Obviously, it was a good night for him.
What a sight for sore eyes. I chuckle.
How the hell that guy can fuck all these women on a flimsy excuse of a bed like that and still walk, I’ll never know.
Before I hit the last step, I spot my iPhone and my wallet on a coffee table with my shoes resting not too far away. I grab my belongings, careful not
to tip over any of the many empty bottles of booze. I step into my Tom Ford indigo leather sneakers and approach Collin as quietly as I possibly can. The idea is for us to get out of here as fast as humanly possible without waking up any of these women.
“Buddy, come on. Get up,” I whisper, tapping his shoulder. He shakes his head, indicating he has no intentions of moving. Fucker. I redouble my efforts. “Collin, time to go.”
After a few minutes he finally opens his eyes and looks up at me. “No.” He shakes his head. He closes his eyes again before continuing. “Not yet. I’m too tired,” he whines like a boy refusing to get ready for school.
“So you’re staying?”
He peers opens one eye. “Hunter, just give me a few more minutes. Go back to bed.”
“Suit yourself. I’m out of here. I’m leaving your ass behind.”
“Why the hell are you so impatient to leave? I thought you had fun last night.”
“It’s morning, genius. I need a bottle of extra-strength Advil for my pounding headache, food to calm my starving stomach and I’ve had enough fucking to last me the rest of the week. You’ve got exactly twenty seconds to decide if you’re coming with me or not.”
When Collin realizes I’m not bluffing, he nods. “All right, gimme fifteen minutes.”
“You have five.”
* * *
After speed-dialing the limo I hired last night to come and pick us up, Collin and I ended up at a new little breakfast eatery in Venice Beach after a short detour to a drug store to grab much-needed painkillers and a large bottle of water. Turns out last night’s debauchery took place a few miles away in Playa del Rey. Collin and I gave up taking our cars a long time ago when we go out partying. Forget about the whole drinking and driving thing—that’s just common sense—the problem is that half the time we can never remember where we parked the car. Valet service doesn’t help when you’re bar-hopping like we are. Inevitably at some point during the night we can barely remember which city we’re in, let alone where the hell Collin parked his expensive, flashy ride. Thank God for a chauffeured car because I doubt very much we’d have been able to find a cab at this time of the morning in a residential neighborhood.
When we walk into Lola’s Paradise at seven-thirty, the place is bustling with creative types scrambling for a hearty breakfast. Every single table is occupied and to add insult to injury, there’s a line. Fuck. I’m just about to suggest we find another place when the waitress eyes my friend like a two-for-one special at IHOP. I know she’ll take very good care of us in no time. Oh, boy, here we go. I’ve seen this lustful gaze so many times before when women put two and two together and recognize Collin’s star status.
“Oh, looks like we’ll be seated before all these chumps who’ll have to wait until a table is cleared,” Collin says under his breath, pointing at the group of patrons in front of us. He’s standing next to me grinning from ear to ear when he notices the tall woman with bleach-blonde hair and full-on makeup checking him out from head to toe. He turns my way and waggles his eyebrows knowingly.
He’s never been afraid to use his Hollywood celebrity status to get what he wants. I’ll admit it bothers me sometimes, because I’ve known this guy since he was a scrawny little teenage boy and I really don’t give a damn what he does for a living or how much money he’s able to command for a movie, but right now I’m so famished, I’m grateful we’ll be able to jump to the front of the line.
“It never ceases to amaze me how you pull this shit and these women fall for it like willing victims,” I whisper so no one else can hear me.
“What can I say, Evans? I’m more popular than ever with the ladies.”
“Bastard.”
Collin opens his mouth to respond, but he stops when the leggy blonde waitress who has been eating him up since we walked in approaches us. I’m not sure if she always walks this way or if she’s putting on a show for my friend’s benefit, but from the exaggerated undulation in her hips and the way she’s pushing out her tits, the message is pretty obvious.
Did she just undo a couple buttons of her blouse?
“You boys need a table?” she asks flirtatiously, poking a long red acrylic nail at my friend’s chest.
Like we’d be standing in line if we didn’t.
“Damn, you’re a sassy little one.” Collin launches into Casanova mode. “I’ll take that table only if I get to watch your ass wiggling in front of me while you take us to it.”
The minute the words leave his mouth, I know exactly what kind of breakfast we’re in for. Once an actor, always an actor.
“If you’re nice, I’m willing to let you watch other parts of my body wiggle as well. Maybe after my shift?” she says, pushing her chest out while puckering her painted lips.
Holy shit, she’s forward. The provocative way she licks her lips when she says that should be R-rated in every state of our great country. Heck, even Canadians should put their foot down over this kind of overt promiscuity.
“You don’t say?” Even at this early hour, Collin isn’t afraid to work his megawatt charm.
“I’m sure you’d make it worth my while.”
“Honey, you have no—”
I clear my throat and interrupt this ludicrous conversation or else we’ll be here all day. “If the two of you could figure out your fuck schedules after I’ve had breakfast, I’d really appreciate it.”
The busty blonde blushes before speaking again. “I’m so sorry. Please follow me.” Collin goes first and he keeps turning around to look at me. He has the same gaga expression as a kid who’s been given a full-day pass at Dairy Queen with no restrictions imposed.
When we get to our table, the waitress turns to face us. “I placed a reserved sign when I saw you walk in. I hope this will do.”
Collin takes a step closer to her. “I don’t know how to thank you for this kind gesture. My friend and I have had a fairly strenuous night and we’re desperate for some food.”
The horny blonde licks her lips again. “Well, as I’ve said—”
For the love of God. “Can we please eat first?” I interrupt.
The waitress smiles nervously. “Of course. I shouldn’t be like this. It’s just that I’ve been a fan of your friend for a really long time. Give me a second and I’ll come back with your menus.” She starts walking away, but turns around. “By the way, my name is Nadine and I’ll be your server today,” she says before sliding her index finger between her teeth and biting down.
“Nadine, I’m Collin, but you already know that. This grizzly bear here is Hunter. He’s not usually this prickly.”
“Funny,” I growl. “Nadine.” I nod at her.
“Hunter, I’ll take good care of both of you,” she says in a really breathy way, ignoring me completely and eye-fucking Collin. How the hell can she be this sexual this early?
“I don’t doubt it for a second.” Collin lifts an eyebrow and I know he’s totally turned on. For Christ’s sake, he’s almost foaming at the mouth.
Enough. “Thanks, Nadine, for those menus.” My fuse is getting shorter by the second.
“Coming right up,” she quips before turning on her heel.
“That would be great.” I flash her a tight smile before sitting down.
“Evans, you didn’t have to be so rude. You most likely scared her,” Collin scolds, taking a seat across from me.
“Did she look frightened to you? I could practically see her slickness dripping from between her thighs. I thought she was going to offer herself to you right in the middle of this restaurant.”
“I’m just saying being a little friendly won’t hurt you. Your rugged cowboy routine may work well for you on that ranch of yours in Colorado, but it’s a little rough around the edges for us folks out here in LA.”
I lean in closer to the table so that what I’m about to say remains between us. “Dennison, you had five women last night. Take a break for longer than a goddamn minute.”
“Just because I’m flirting
doesn’t mean that it has to go any further.”
“Bullshit,” I spit out. “And when was the last time that happened?”
We both laugh.
A few minutes later, Nadine returns with menus and a couple glasses of water. Since the restaurant is so packed, she’s not able to devote as much time to Collin as I thought she would. Unfortunately for her, hungry patrons keep calling for her attention. She hops from one table to another with her order book and pen in hand. This gives us an opportunity to kick back and figure out what we want to eat without her drooling all over us—well, drooling all over Collin, I guess.
“Good call on starting the day in Venice Beach,” I say, taking in the magnificent view to my left.
“After the way we ran out on those women without so much as a goodbye and thank you, I really didn’t want to be in the same neighborhood.” He chuckles.
“You’re right. I would’ve ended up with two unimpressed blondes, while you would have to contend with three pretty pissed-off women.” I smile, quickly scouring the restaurant. “I don’t know how you do it, buddy. Let’s hope the two sisters you connected with earlier in the evening don’t show up at your door ready to rip your balls off.”
“Nah. Remember I’ve got the luck of the Irish.”
“Even though you’re Scottish, I’ll give you that much. You certainly do,” I say, shaking my head and looking down at my menu.
Leave it to Collin Dennison to be willing to beat his own record. Where I limit myself to two women at a time, Collin doesn’t have a problem taking on three and sometimes four horny women in one go. Before he ended last night with his international cocktail of women, he also fucked two gorgeous twins who were begging for his autograph. What started out as two fans innocently approaching their idol turned into so much more in front of my eyes when Sissy and Brandy insisted on a photo and a kiss, then whispered something in my friend’s ear. He shot me a look that spoke volumes. Before I could even blink, the twins were dragging Collin down a corridor and straight into the bathroom. Five women in one night. I’m amazed at my buddy’s prowess. Last night was a first for him. Animal.
Fixated Page 1
