by Luke Young
CHOCOLATE COVERED BILLIONAIRE NAVY SEAL
A Novel
LUKE YOUNG
Copyright © Luke Young, 2013
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2013 by Luke Young. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, downloaded, transmitted, reverse engineered, decompiled or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Luke Young.
Cover Art by Once Upon a Time Covers
V1.7
ALSO BY LUKE YOUNG
SHRINKAGE
CHOCOLATE COVERED BILLIONAIRE NAVY SEAL
The Friends With... Benefits Series:
FRIENDS WITH PARTIAL BENEFITS (Excerpt Included)
FRIENDS WITH FULL BENEFITS
FRIENDS WITH MORE BENEFITS
FRIENDS WITH EXTRA BENEFITS
To contact Luke or to be placed on a mailing list to receive updates about new releases, send an email to [email protected]
To find out more about the author and his work, see http://www.lukeyoungbooks.com/
Table of Contents
AUTHOR'S NOTE
CHOCOLATE COVERED BILLIONAIRE NAVY SEAL
FRIENDS WITH PARTIAL BENEFITS EXCERPT
AUTHOR'S NOTE
I hate to be the one to break it to you, but there are probably like three good-looking billionaires on the planet. Generally speaking billionaires look a lot more like Bill Gates and Warren Buffet than Channing Tatum. Don't get me wrong, Bill and Warren are great guys, but no one is breaking out into a sweat thinking about either one of them. Now there aren't all that many Navy SEALs floating around either and the ones that are available are generally so busy being, well, Navy SEALs, that you’d be hard pressed to find one with some free time to date.
If you're asking yourself did someone really write a novel titled, Chocolate Covered Billionaire Navy SEAL and if so, what is wrong with him? Let me try to explain… You see late in 2012, after spending an entire year writing four novels in my "Friends With Partial Benefits Series" I desperately needed a break from that whole thing, so my wife and I spent a week-long period catching up on two seasons of Homeland. I had also just read a really, really, popular chocolate themed romance novel and it seemed that forty seven percent of the novels on Amazon had either the word Billionaire or Navy SEAL in the title. You toss all that stuff into my brain and out came CCBNS.
Please note that no Navy SEALs or billionaires were harmed during the creation of this story although lots of chocolate was harmed/eaten and beer killed/drunk. Please also note that 20% of the proceeds from the sale of this book through the end of 2013 will go to charities whose mission it is to help military families. I figured that was the least I could do after poking a little harmless fun at SEALs in this story. Now about the billionaires… I was trying to find a charity that aided them also, but then I realized, duh, they are billionaires and they, well, don't really need any financial help. In fact, screw them, they deserve a lot of fun poking coming their way!
I hope you'll check out my other slightly more serious titles featuring guys with a little less cash, who are a little more down to earth, probably can't kill a guy with their bare hands, yet are hopefully fascinating and sexy enough for you to enjoy. To make it easy for you I've included an excerpt from Friends With Partial Benefits at the end of this ebook.
I hope you enjoy CCBNS.
Luke
CHOCOLATE COVERED BILLIONAIRE NAVY SEAL
1
"Your father will see you now," Gloria said.
"Thanks." Brock Fullman took a long deep breath, but didn't move his six foot two, two hundred ten pound frame. He sat on the comfortable sofa in the large reception room outside the office of Douglas Fullman Junior, President of Fullman Chocolates. At least that's the name Brock still called it. He refused to acknowledge the new name of Fullman and Scaggs Chocolates. He didn’t care what the Scaggs family had to say, he was convinced that their name attached to his family’s famous candy was not good for business— not at all. And if the latest sales figures were any indication, he was right.
Looking at him with concern, Gloria asked, "Brock, are you okay?"
"I just… I don't want to do this again. I can't marry her." He ran his fingers through his short light brown hair.
"Simply tell him how you feel. I'm sure he'll understand."
"He won't." Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes.
She walked to the sofa and slid in next to him placing her hand on his forearm. "Your father is a good man. Not as good or…" Slipping her hand up his arm to his immensely bulging bicep, she sighed. "Big or, um, hard as… my God, you are in such good shape."
He caught her staring at him dreamily. Her eyes dipped down to the even more impressive bulge in his khaki pants and refused to leave.
Without thinking, he muttered, "I work out."
"Yeah, I know." She glanced up to his face then returned to his lap. "You are so much bigger than your father. Will I see you in the gym during lunch today?"
"Yeah, but I think I can only get in half a workout. Got to leave early for a mission."
Wiping her brow, Gloria looked him in the eye. "Can I get you to spot me again?"
"You got it."
Leaning closer to him, she took a deep breath and gasped. "I'll never get over how good you smell. I mean working here makes you hate chocolate, but you, you smell amazing."
He lifted his wrist to his nose and took a big whiff. "Yeah, I love this white chocolate lotion. My skin has never been softer and it completely took care of my eczema problem." Turning to her, he grinned. "Now I know what I'm getting you for Christmas."
"That's not exactly what I want." She raised her eyebrows suggestively.
"Oh, Gloria."
"If only those awful guys I date looked and smelled like you."
"Buy them some of the lotion. I'll email you the link where I get it."
She shook her head. "Darling, somehow I don't think it would smell the same on them."
He broke into a chuckle. "You always could cheer me up." Shaking his head, he stood. "I guess I should get it over with. Um, thanks for the pep talk."
"Sure."
She rose up from the sofa and walked back to her desk. Turning to him, she found he was still in the same position and raised her eyebrows. "Brock?"
When he didn't respond, she repeated, "Brock?"
"Huh. What?"
"Be honest with him."
Returning to consciousness, he dropped his head and nodded. "Oh, yeah, okay."
Brock slipped in to the huge office and discovered his father sitting behind his expensive mahogany desk. Douglas gave him an irritated look. "Where have you been?"
"Out on the floor checking on the problem with boiler number three."
"Just have a seat."
Sitting in a chair near the desk, Brock looked past his father out the wall of windows to the parking lot.
Douglas sighed. "Did you do it yet?"
"Do what?"
"Don't fuck with me, Brock, did you set a date?" Douglas shook his head and sighed.
"Not yet, but I'm—"
"You're what… huh, you're
what?"
"I was waiting for the right moment."
Douglas rolled his eyes. "The right moment was three months ago before we lost control of the company—"
"We?" Brock interrupted and for the first time since he entered the office, he looked his father in the eye.
"Okay, I fucked up." Douglas shook his head and looked down at his desk. "Is that what you want to hear?"
"No, I want you to tell me how it happened and the truth this time, I—"
"I already told you I made some bad investments and tried to get the bank to change the terms of our loan, but they wouldn't do it. I had no choice but to let Scaggs take controlling interest in the company."
"He's going to run this place into the ground."
"I had no other options."
"Why couldn't you just have been happy running this company?" Brock folded his arms. "You had to try to be the richest man in the world. I mean, number sixty seven on the Forbes list, wasn’t good enough for you, was it?"
"No it wasn't." Douglas narrowed his eyes. "And you, more than anyone, should understand that. You're not happy here. You had to run off and join the Navy. I mean, are you crazy? Taking off on secret, dangerous missions and no one knows where the hell you are."
Brock looked away, struggling to keep his composure. "You know I had to do it. It was my duty to this country."
Douglas scoffed. "Yeah a country whose empire building foreign policies made us vulnerable to terrorist attacks."
Fighting back tears, Brock stood and glared down to his father. "They stole from me the only girl I've ever loved. I won't rest until every one of them is dead!"
"You've got to let it go."
Curling his lip, Brock sighed. "Are we done here?"
"No, we're not."
Brock gave his father a tired look.
"Look, she's a nice girl. There's no reason you can't marry her and have some other women on the side. I mean, look at me and Gloria, we've been—"
"She's a nice girl?" Brock's jaw dropped. "Nice?"
Douglas gave him a hesitant look. "Well, she's… I mean—"
"She treats people like crap. She's rude, obnoxious… she hates kids, animals, the poor, she's a racist… she's, she's… a horrible kisser. She's awful in bed. I mean, she does this thing with her lips when we…" Brock shuddered.
Douglas made a face. "She can't be that bad. I thought she loved animals. She just got that puppy and—"
"It's gone!"
"Gone?"
"Yeah, she wasn't taking care of it at all. I saw her step on it more than once. She would forget to feed it. I was able to convince her to give it away before she killed it."
"Okay." Slumping back in his chair, Douglas let out a long slow breath. "So, maybe she's more of a cat person."
Brock sighed. "And this is the woman you want me to have children with?"
"She'll probably be a great mother."
"Yeah…" Brock scoffed. "Maybe we'll have a baby that doesn't need to eat and can handle being stepped on by a six-inch spiked heal."
"I'm sure she'll figure it all out when the time comes." Douglas shrugged. "Anyway, if you don't marry her, we will lose this company. We're already dangerously close to being mmmaa… mmmaaa… I can't even say it."
"Say what? We're close to being what?" Brock narrowed his eyes.
"You know…"
After thinking it through, Brock said, "You mean millionaires?"
"Yes." Running his hands through his hair, Douglas looked apologetically at his son. "Our net worth is just over one billion dollars and— I mean, just a jet ski over one billion." He held his hand up with two fingers a half inch apart to emphasize the point.
Slumping back down into the chair, Brock widened his eyes. "What? I thought we were still worth five billion."
Douglas replied hesitantly, "the yen."
"The yen?" Brock grimaced.
"Don't ask."
After taking a deep breath, Brock sat up in his chair holding his head high. "I don't care about the money anyway."
"Okay, maybe you don't, but what about your mother? You don't want to see her become a scrub woman do you?"
"What?" Brock scoffed. "You guys own like ten homes free and clear. How is she going to be—"
"Our lifestyle is very expensive."
"Yeah, so maybe she'll have to drive herself to the mall every once in a while and maybe you two can skip your trip to the South of France four times a year." Brock rolled his eyes. "You know, maybe cut back to just twice a year. I think you could do that and somehow survive."
"Look. This company is our legacy. My father's father's father opened it in the middle of the depression. When virtually all other companies were laying off workers, we were hiring hundreds who could find no other jobs. I will not have the Scaggs name on our chocolates any longer than necessary. You will marry her and we will get control back. You've got to do this for me, for all of us. Don't let me down, son."
Looking down, Brock rubbed his head and sighed before slowly raising his eyes until they met his father's. "I need to go check on that boiler again."
"You're our only hope." Douglas begged.
"Yeah…" After turning on his heels, Brock headed toward the door and grumbled, "Maybe I'll give it some thought while I'm flying out on my mission tonight."
"Okay, that's all I ask."
2
Standing outside the door, Brock closed his eyes and sighed once again. The phone rang and Gloria picked it up. "Yes, sir."
Rising from her desk, she opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle of mouthwash. She lifted it, looking closely at the tiny amount that remained in the bottom. "Oh, no."
"What is it?" Brock asked.
"I'm out. You don’t have any gum or mints or anything, do you?"
"No, sorry. I'm sure Debbie can pick up something for you when she goes out for lunch."
"That'll be too late. I'm going to need it in…" She looked toward the ceiling, seemingly working it in her head. "Oh, about ninety seconds from now."
Narrowing his eyes confused, Brock asked, "What do you mean ninety… ?" When she raised her eyebrows, it hit him like a shovel across the face.
Gloria replied casually, "You see it only takes him about—"
"No, you don't have to explain." With his hands raised defensively, he gave her a look as if a man with a bloody axe was standing directly behind her. "Please don't tell me anymore!"
"Oh, it's not so bad."
"Okay…" He muttered before cringing.
"And since my divorce I've been really lonely."
He exhaled and gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm serious, no job is worth that. How can you let him do that to you?"
Gloria met him near the door and placed her hand on his arm. "You're sweet. Look, I'm the highest paid assistant on the planet. I've had other jobs… real jobs with real responsibilities and let me tell you it’s not fun. So, if that means I need to swallow every once in a while, well, so be it. "
"Swallow?" He returned a sickened expression.
"Oh, yeah." With her eyes brightened, she nodded. "If I don’t, he shoots all over my face and hair. It's not a pretty sight." Smiling, she patted him on the ass before slipping into Douglas' office.
Brock shook his head and whispered to himself, "That bastard!"
Stopping at the security desk in the lobby, Brock chatted with Akbar, the company's newest security guard. At six foot three and, maybe, one hundred seventy pounds, fully clothed, Akbar's frame looked to be twig-like compared to Brock's impressive physique.
"How about a beer after work?" Akbar said.
"Sorry, dude can't I've got to… I've got to go away on business. Yeah, it's a business trip."
"Heading to the gym today?"
"I'll squeeze in a couple miles and just a short workout." Brock smiled. "Will I see you in there?"
"You will," Akbar replied. "You want to have another bench press contest?"
After sharing a chuckle and a first bump, B
rock walked off wearing a grin.
Heading to the boiler, Brock strolled onto the floor passing the hundreds of proud workers in the sparkling clean plant. Ogled by the women and recipient of envious look from the men, he made his way past the chocolate dipping station as the dozen workers packaged the line of Fullman's signature gourmet chocolate covered pretzels with varieties covered in nuts, sprinkles and candies.
Turning the corner, he stopped in his tracks. There she was, Stephanie Wright, the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, that is, since he lost his love, his soul mate, Constance. If not for the fact that Stephanie and Constance had been best friends since elementary school, he would have asked her out years ago.
Stephanie looked up from her chocolate drizzle machine and spotted Brock. "Oh, hi."
Approaching, he smiled. "Stephanie. How are you?"
"I'm fine. You?"
"I'm okay. How's David?"
"We just broke up."
"Sorry to hear that. He seemed like a good guy. What happened?"
"He found out about…" She shook her head. "Um, well, let's just say it's over for good this time."
"If you need someone to talk to about it, just let me know."
"Thanks." Rolling her eyes slightly, she asked in a tired voice, "So how's Marci?"
"Oh, she's…" He shrugged his shoulders. "She's… good."
"Are you going to happy hour later?"
"No, sorry I've got this thing."
"What thing?"
"The Pentagon just located the compound of the mastermind behind the attack of our embassy last month in Why-the-fuck-are-we-there-istan and…" Brock narrowed his eyes. "… and I've got to go take care of some unfinished business."
She gave him a sweet smile. "Well, be careful and, of course, good luck."
