Taken

by Mia Ford

  “That’s all I wanted to say to you. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.” She heard him say, and she couldn’t control herself any more. Ivy felt like she was going to burst.

  She pulled herself away from him, and Leon dropped his hands to her face, caressing her gently. Holding her in place.

  “I love you Ivy. I always have. That was why I didn’t want to share you with Archer, with anyone.” He was saying, but Ivy could barely hear him. She was laughing from her burgeoning happiness. Nothing that Leon could say could make her feel better. This was what she was waiting for. There was no choice now. She would never leave him; she couldn’t live without him. Everything she did, had done…she had done to please him.

  “I love you Leon. I don’t want you to share me with anyone. I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to stay here with you.” She was crying by now, but they were tears of joy.

  “As my wife. By my side.” He said, looking deep into her eyes. He wasn’t the kind of man who was going to get down on his knees, and Ivy didn’t care.

  “As your wife.” She said and they were kissing, blissfully unaware of the fact that Archer had appeared at the bedroom door. He had turned away, leaving Ivy’s bags at the front door. He knew when he had lost, and this time, he had lost to his brother Leon. And he was man enough to admit defeat.

  There are more bonus stories ahead…..just look what you want to read next via the Table of Contents (TOC)

  Billionaire Smutty Romance Collection

  BOOK 1: BAD BOY BALLER

  MAYA

  I was young and stupid, but that was no excuse. Everyone is young and stupid at some point in their life, but not everyone makes the mistakes I'd made. It all started when my brother Luke brought over a new friend. I was a senior in high school, a good girl. A girl my family could be proud of. I didn't go out and party like my brother. I studied. I worked hard. I was going to be a doctor one day, and that meant taking advanced classes while I was in high school, to prepare myself for college and beyond.

  I was the white sheep of the family, my brother the black one. He would disappear for days on end, partying and drinking, until he finally couldn't party anymore. Even at twenty-one, he was still living at home. He worked mostly odd jobs – his latest one at a club in Chicago. Luke told me all about it, making it sound like an incredible opportunity, rather than the latest waystation on the road to nowhere he was on. But I'd listen as he told me how great it was to sling drinks and flirt with all the hot women – and to get paid for it too.

  He'd apparently found his dream, and I guess that I had to be happy for him.

  Every week, we had a family dinner. It was something of a tradition with my folks. Once a week, we'd all gather around the table and eat a home-cooked meal, all in one place. During the week, my father's job kept him away a lot and Luke was, well, Luke. He was hardly ever around. But he was good about never missing a family dinner. Mostly because mom would have had his hide if he had.

  But I remember clearly, this one specific family dinner, when Luke brought a friend from work to our weekly family gathering.

  “His name is Reese,” he told my mom beforehand.

  “Reese isn't family, dear,” she said. “Only family should be at family dinner.”

  Yeah, my mom was a bit uptight. Sometimes too uptight for her own good. But I had to admit that I agreed with her. At least on this one thing. I didn't want any of my brother's scumbag friends hanging out with us. Especially not on the one night we were supposed to come together as a family.

  “He has no family, mom. I feel bad for the kid,” Luke complained. “Would you really turn away a guy who has no family instead of welcoming him into ours for an evening?”

  I rolled my eyes as I listened from the living room. My brother knew how to work it and play on my mom's heart strings. It made me sick.

  I heard my mom sigh as I walked into the kitchen. She put the lasagne in the oven and wiped her hands on her apron. She tried a little too hard to be the picture of the perfect mom – her perfectly coifed hair, the church dress, the pearls around her neck. She had that Donna Reed thing going on, but was exactly the type of woman I aspired to be. Except, of course, that I wanted a career. I gave her props for all she did, but being a stay-at-home mom wasn't for me. In that regard, I was more like my dad – who was a doctor too, of course.

  “Fine, I guess I shouldn't be so cold,” she said. “Tell him he can come over, but please – and I beg of you, Luke – tell him to make sure he dresses properly. None of those baggy jeans and baseball caps at the table.”

  I snickered. It was hard enough to get Luke to dress properly, especially back then. He was trying so hard to be a gangster type – baggy jeans, tennis shoes that cost his entire pay check, baseball caps turned backward with the brim left unmoulded. He didn't want people to believe he was the adult son of a doctor and a stay-at-home wife living in middle class suburbia outside of Chicago. That would have damaged his street cred or whatever he called it.

  If Luke heard me laughing, he ignored me. Instead, he agreed – reluctantly – that they'd dress appropriately for the dinner table. Though, it didn't take a genius to know that his idea of appropriate and my mom's likely didn't match up too well. I figured we'd be lucky if he wore anything that even remotely resembled appropriate dinner table attire.

  When he brought Reese over though, I wasn't surprised to see that the kid was wearing the exact attire that mom had said not to wear to the table. Of course, he was. So was my brother.

  But Reese, unlike my brother, made it look natural. Unlike my upper middle-class, spoiled snot of a brother, Reese actually looked the part. His brown hair was shaggy and stylishly messy. And unlike my brother, he had the decency to take his hat off at the dinner table – something that surprised the hell out of me.

  My mom shook her head, mumbling to herself about ungrateful kids, but she let it go without causing a scene. She never let us argue at the dinner table and always made sure to set the example for us.

  I, of course, was dressed in a pink floral skirt with a white, button-up blouse. Not the type of outfit I'd wear to school, but for family dinner, I was expected to dress a little nicer than normal. My father usually wore whatever he wore to work that day – usually a shirt and tie.

  “Luke, would you care to say grace?” my mom asked, shooting him a look of pure death that was camouflaged by a saccharine sweet smile, of course.

  “I'd rather not,” my brother said. “I'm sure Maya would be more than willing though.”

  It was my father, the one who normally didn't like confrontation, who started the dinnertime prayer. I bowed my head, but caught myself staring over at Reese with wide eyes. He pretended to bow his head, but while everybody had their heads lowered, he looked around our dining room, his eyes almost as wide as mine, but probably for different reasons.

  I was staring because Reese was actually pretty hot. My dorky brother usually had dorky-looking friends, but this time, his friend wasn't so bad on the eyes. So, sue me. I was a warm-blooded high school girl who didn't get much attention from boys because I was shy and often kept my face hidden by a book. But there was an older guy, someone with a little more experience behind him than the stupid boys in my high school class. I stared until Reese caught me staring. I quickly looked away, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

  My father ended the prayer and we all started eating. I kept my eyes lowered and tried hard not to get caught staring again. I was, after all, a dorky high school girl and he was a cooler, older guy who worked at a club. There was no way, in a million years, my brother's best friend was going to look twice at me.

  But a girl could dream, couldn't she?

  “Dude, where did you get the money for that?” my brother asked.

  We were hanging out in the living room, watching television as I pretended to study, and my brother was on the phone – talking to Reese most likely.

  “I'm so jealous, dude,” he said, shaking his head.

 
; “Could you please be quiet –” I started to ask him, but it was my mom who beat me to it.

  “Please don't make us listen to your conversations, Luke,” she said. “Take it to your room.”

  “Nah, it's fine,” Luke said. “He's coming over anyway.”

  “Who is?” I asked, already knowing the answer and feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.

  “Reese, Duh. He just bought a killer new sound system for his car and wants to show it off,” he said.

  “Where does he get the money for stuff like that?” my mom asked.

  It was a question that had occurred to me, but one I never really pursued because it really didn't matter all that much to me. But I had thought about it briefly given that my brother worked at the same club and couldn't even afford his own toilet paper – he made our parents buy it for him.

  “I dun no. Side jobs and stuff,” Luke said, not meeting our gaze. “What's it matters to you? At least he's making a living, right?”

  “Unlike someone we know,” I muttered under my breath.

  “You're just jealous and you have a massive crush, Maya,” Luke said. I turned bright red. “But keep dreaming. There's no way he'd ever be into a nerdy little high schooler like you.”

  “I don't have a crush,” I lied, looking down at my textbook as if mitochondria and nuclei were the most interesting subjects on the planet. “I would never have a crush on one of your loser friends, Luke.”

  “Ha. Yeah, right. We both see the way you gawk at him every time he comes over,” he sneered. “You're not fooling anyone.”

  “Enough!” My mom shouted, putting her hands up between us. “Stop it already. Just stop arguing. I'm trying to watch my movie.”

  I glared at Luke and he smirked at me. He knew he was right. And even worse, I knew he was right. He knew I had a crush on Reese, and no matter what I said, there was no denying it. And now that Reese knew, well, that would make running into him even more awkward than it already was.

  I picked up my textbook, slammed it shut and walked toward my room. The tears were fresh in my eyes and stung, but I couldn't cry in front of Luke. I couldn't give my obnoxious brother anymore reason to smirk or laugh at me than he already had.

  Only a few more weeks until graduation, then I was off to college, I reminded myself. I'd be going to North-western, so not terribly far – but far enough that I would be able to avoid my brother and his friend. I'd meet other boys at college and forget that Reese even existed, I was sure of it. I was going to meet more worthy boys, not boys who worked at nightclubs and likely sold drugs on the side to live an expensive lifestyle that he otherwise shouldn't have been able to afford.

  It was hard being eighteen and a virgin still, but I'd survive. One day, I'd find the right boy and we'd have sex and it would be magical. Reese would be a distant, shameful memory. And sooner or later, he'd wise up and drop my brother, the wannabe gangster. Then I would be the one laughing at Luke.

  But until then, I'd hide away in my room, do what I needed to do to get ready for college, and escape from it all. I'd watch from my window as the two of them played basketball, laughing to myself as Reese obliterated my brother every time. Luke sucked at basketball – most sports, really. He only played so he could look cool next to his new friend from the city. The basketball hoop attached to our garage was just beneath my window, so sometimes they'd catch me watching. Luke would flip me off, Reese would roll his eyes and pretend I wasn't there.

  But I could always find some measure of escape in my room. And by escaping, I, of course, meant masturbating, because God knew, I was still very much a young, warm blooded woman with needs and desires that needed to be met.

  And yes, I often imagined Reese while I touched myself. Because I knew that he was just the right type of bad who could talk me out of my panties. He'd let me do all the dirty things my heart desired – and I wouldn't have to feel guilty about any of them. Not with Reese.

  Not that it would ever happen, of course.

  Which is why they were called fantasies.

  A Few Months Later

  Allie poked her head into my room with an overzealous smile. “We're all going to a club downtown, wanna join us?”

  Inwardly, I groaned and stared down at the textbook in my lap. I was studying for a test, my first one in my chemistry class and I wanted to ace it. But there was some small spark of desire in me to get out and have some fun.

  “Come on, the test isn't until next week, Maya,” Allie said, rolling her eyes at me. “Don't you want to get to know your sorority sisters?”

  Yes, my sorority sisters. Me, of all people, had pledged a sorority – though, it hadn't been my choice. No, my mother had insisted I pledge. She'd been a Delta Lambda back in her college days and wanted her little girl to be her legacy. Even though sororities were so not my thing. I got in – thanks to my mother being an alumna – but I never really fit in. The girls – and my mother – kept trying to get me to come out of my shell, but it hadn't taken very well.

  “You're a smart girl, Maya. Smarter than most people I know,” my mother had once told me. “You don't have to study all the time to do well. Go out with your sisters, make some memories. Heck, maybe meet a good man like I did with your father.”

  I tried telling my mom I wasn't interested in meeting a husband, not while I was in college. Not with medical school on the horizon. I didn't want that to deter me from my dreams. I could meet a husband afterward, once I'd gotten settled into my career. I had plenty of time and wasn't in any hurry.

  And as far as the sorority went, well, I wasn't thrilled to be a sorority girl. Though, I had to admit – if only to myself – that it was nice to have friends and feel like I was part of the cool crowd for a change. I knew my mom was right about getting out and creating memories with my newfound friends. I didn't want to look back at this part of my life twenty years into the future and remember that all I had were books and tests in my life. There was a part of me that wanted some fun and some wild stories to tell. And Allie seemed cool enough – so did a few of the other girls.

  “What club? You know I can't get into most clubs because I'm not twenty-one –”

  Allie held up what appeared to be an ID – an ID I knew had to be fake. “We have you covered, girlie. And we're headed to the Neon Dragon – that hip place downtown.”

  The Neon Dragon. Why did that name ring a bell? Then it hit me. My brother worked there. At least, he had once upon a time. Not that long ago really. He'd not so surprisingly managed to get himself fired for drinking on the job. His good friend Reese still worked there, though. If I was going to go – and I was leaning toward going – I knew I would just have to avoid the DJ booth since he knew I wasn't twenty-one.

  “I've never been to a club before,” I said, biting my lip. “I don't think I even know how to dress for it.”

  Allie squealed with delight, as if I'd already told her I was going. I hadn't given her an affirmative answer yet, but she heard one anyway.

  “That's fine, you can borrow something from me or my roomie – you're about the same size as Lauren, I think. You have some curves on ya, girlie – you can totally look sexy, you know. In the right outfit, with the right makeup – you'll be a sex kitten in no time, doll.”

  I cringed. “I'm so not a sex kitten.”

  “Don't you worry, we can change that,” Allie said with a wink. “Come on, let's get you dressed!”

  Allie took my hand, yanking me from my bed and onto my feet. My textbook fell to the floor with a clatter and a rustle of pages as she dragged me down the hallway to her room. When we entered, Lauren – a stunning blonde girl with crystal blue eyes – gave me the stink eye. She was sitting at her desk, staring at herself in the mirror as she meticulously applied her eyeliner – acting for all the world as if she was painting the Sistine Chapel. Maybe in her mind, she was.

  “She's going?” Lauren asked, not bothering to look up from the mirror.

  “If we can get her the perfect outfit, yes,” A
llie said with a smile. “Won't this be fun? A makeover for Maya!”

  Yeah, fun. Right. I sat down on Allie's bed nervously. “Well if she doesn't want me to go, I can –”

  Lauren turned around, one eye finished, the other makeup-free. It was sort of odd – yet magical – how she could do so much with makeup. Her eyes looked like they belonged to different people.

  “No, I think it'll be fun,” Lauren said. “She needs to loosen up a bit, anyway.”

  “Loosen up a bit?” I scoffed.

  Both Allie and Lauren looked at me, eyebrows raised. They didn't need to say a word; I knew what they were thinking and knew they were right.

  “I'll pick out the outfit,” Allie said, opening up the closet door and rummaging through it, tossing skirts and sparkly items I couldn't make out onto the bed next to me. “You get her makeup, Lauren.”

  “Can you do that to me?” I asked, motioning toward her eye.

  “Do what?” she asked, cocking her head to the side, confused.

  “The thing – with your eyes.” I moved my finger around the corners of my eye. “The eyeliner, I mean.”

  Lauren laughed, turning toward the mirror and getting to work on her other eye. “Wow, this is really going to be interesting, Allie. What a nice little project this one will be.”

  I wanted to argue that I wasn't a project or a toy – but again, I knew they were probably right. I hardly ever wore makeup. Maybe a little lip gloss or powder, but that was it. I just didn't spend as much time dolling myself up as some of the girls.

  As I stared into the big mirror across from me, my auburn hair was pulled back in a messy bun, my pale white face was covered in freckles. I had a hard time imagining myself looking like either of them – both Allie and Lauren were the perfect cheerleader types and every man's fantasy. Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect makeup and hair, clothing and accessories not unlike what you'd see on a runway.

  And there I was, messy hair, freckled face, in penguin pyjama pants and an old grey t-shirt. The exact opposite of the girls in front of me.