Dating Disaster with a Billionaire (Blue Ridge Mountain Billionaires, #1)

by Lynx, Elizabeth

  “Not yet,” James grunted.

  But I knew something he wasn’t counting on. He was getting closer to the edge, too. He didn’t have to say anything; I knew. It was his rapid breath and how he gripped the base of his cock as if to stop it from exploding.

  I wiggled my ass and watched his eyes roll back into his head. James wasn’t immune to losing control. I pushed back and worked his cock in and out of me.

  “You need to stop,” he said but curled his fingers into my hips, holding me in place before he pounded into me.

  It was what I wanted—to be fucked hard by the man I was falling for.

  He let go of my hip as he cupped my ass, giving a tight squeeze. A few slaps later, and I knew I wouldn’t last.

  I was grunting and unable to form words as I felt his thumb swirl around my asshole.

  No more torture. He needed to fill me.

  I glanced back just in time to watch as he pushed his thumb inside me. There was a slight burn, like always, for a second just before that glorious feeling of being filled overwhelmed me.

  And he wasn’t gentle about anything, which was good because I loved that. I lowered my head to the ground so he could get deeper inside me.

  The only sounds left were his grunts and our skin slapping together.

  I don’t know if it was James filling me or that he had worked me hard or a combination of everything, but when I came, I felt every cell in my body explode in bliss. Curse words erupted from my lips, and the world went dark. I was only aware of being pushed back and forth as James kept fucking me like some sex doll wildly flailing along for the ride.

  And then it stopped. He stopped.

  I heard his breath, felt his slick skin glide over my back, and the sweet smell of the earth filled my nose as I inhaled.

  James fell onto his side and took me with him. We were both out of breath and coming back down from our incredible high.

  He pulled me tight, my back to his chest, and I had never felt so loved before. I had sex with guys before, and it had been good, but only a rare few liked to snuggle. And the ones who did would lie still while I did all the cuddling.

  Not only had James given me the best sex of my life, but it felt like he was showing me how grateful he was that I let him be with me. He treated me like a queen or goddess. James could have written a guidebook for all men to learn how to satisfy your woman.

  “Why is it whenever we’re about to have a picnic I end up getting an orgasm instead?” I asked with a chuckle.

  He nuzzled into the back of my neck. “Because you’re sweeter than any dessert and more satisfying than any meal could ever be.”

  God, he was good. Future bestseller right here.

  “We have officially christened the bedroom.”

  I turned around in his arms. “What? But we’re outside.”

  James sported a dopey smile, the kind that could only come from utter satisfaction. He picked off some dirt and grass on my cheek.

  “I’ll mark this spot. Make the designers use this location for the bedroom. It’s too perfect. You’re too perfect.”

  That made my stomach do a little flip. I wasn’t perfect, but this thing I had with James was unbelievably good. Though, deep down, I worried it wouldn’t last.

  I knew if it didn’t, it would be my fault. I was a walking dating disaster. It was in my bones to ruin anything good in my life.

  Chapter 18

  JAMES

  “Holy moly, I’m in love,” I announced as I strolled into Monty’s office.

  The day I had yesterday with Marika was wonderful. Some might say magical, while others would describe it as something they couldn’t unsee. Which was exactly what a few of the construction workers said as they discovered us in the woods coming back from their lunch break.

  We had a lot of sex yesterday and not just at our picnic spot. I wasn’t ashamed of my love of Marika and her body. I worshiped every inch of her creamy, silky skin. There were probably a thousand tiny nibble marks all over her.

  Monty grumbled something about getting an assistant to keep people out, but I ignored him.

  “That’s great. Now get out.” Monty barely lifted his head from his laptop.

  Didn’t expect that reaction. My brother was always lighthearted with a smile on his face. Something was wrong.

  I took a seat on the other side of his desk to face him. “You okay?”

  He let out a rather enormous sigh and leaned back in his chair. “No,” was all he said before he hunched over and started to type again.

  Never in my twenty-five years on this Earth had I ever witnessed my brother act this grouchy. It was like he was channeling Rock.

  “Did you and Rock switch bodies?”

  That got his attention. His head lifted as he narrowed his eyes at me. “What? No.” He let out a groan followed by a harsh rub of his face. “Look, I’ve got a lot of work to do, and it doesn’t help that I keep getting interrupted with your problems.”

  I stood. “My problems? I just walked in here less than a minute ago. And I wasn’t mentioning anything about problems. Actually, the opposite. I don’t know how being in love is a problem.”

  Monty rolled his brown eyes and said, “Must be nice.”

  “Seriously, what is wrong?”

  “If you must know, your manager—since she hasn’t been able to get ahold of you—is now calling and texting me almost every hour. Morning and night.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, holding it up for me to see.

  I leaned over his desk and plucked it from his grasp. There was text after text from Pru.

  “I don’t understand. I sent her a video several days ago. I thought that would satisfy her.”

  “Well, it didn’t,” a feminine voice snipped from behind.

  I broke out into a cold sweat. My hands felt so clammy I thought my brother’s phone would slip out of my hand. I gently placed it back on his desk and turned.

  “What are you doing here, Pru?”

  Pru stood with her arms folded over her bubble gum-pink blouse. A scowl puffed out her matching pink lips as her messy bun struggled to keep strands of her brunette hair from falling in her face. The woman always stood out from a crowd with her fashion choices and personality.

  I should have known she would be here. I could never put her off too long, but I had hoped she’d accept the video I sent.

  “I’m here because I own you.” She pointed to the floor, and her gold bangles and bracelets jangled together in a cacophony of frustration.

  I blew a hard breath out of my lips. “You don’t own me.”

  She tilted her head to the side, and I felt faint. “Really? Because I think I know the contract you signed better than you do.”

  She was right. I was so excited to get a manager five years ago that I would have signed something written on toilet paper if it meant I’d discover success on VidTube.

  “That may be so, but it expires at some point.” My mind raced with possible timeframes. “Right?”

  “Wrong,” she said.

  Monty cleared his throat and raised his eyebrow at Pru. She was lying. The contract had an expiration date. My brother never raised his eyebrow unless it was to call someone out.

  I raced up to Pru and pushed my finger into her shoulder. “You’re lying.”

  She smacked my finger out of the way. “It has an expiration date. But that’s not until one year from now. In the meantime, you owe me content. No less than three videos a month. And last I checked, you’ve only sent me one last month and one this month.”

  I shrugged. “And what if I don’t want to do this anymore? What if I don’t want to finish my contract?”

  What’s she going to do? Send me to jail?

  The corner of her mouth ticked up, and she strolled farther into my brother’s office, past me, and sat as if she had a meeting with him.

  “That’s fine. Then just give me back the ten million you got for the contract.”

  “That was five ye
ars ago. All those years of content have to be worth something.”

  Her head fell back as she laughed. It was deep and reminded me of a lion about to pounce.

  “No, honey. Your first contract five years ago was for one hundred thousand dollars. Each year the amount has gone up because your contract expires every year. I just got you a contract back in May for ten million with Claxen and several other companies to advertise their products. The past several months of videos fall far short of what you owe them. Either give the money back, or I am afraid you’ll be sued for breach of contract.”

  “You’d sue me?” I asked in a whisper.

  I always liked Pru. She was nice to me but tough, finding sponsors who would let me be creative while coming up with the money. She took fifteen percent of whatever I made. If I were her, I’d be angry to be out one-point-five million dollars, too.

  But I never thought she’d sue me.

  She turned in her chair to face me. “It’s not me, James. It’s the sponsors. Those are big companies with powerful lawyers. Not only would they be seeking the money back, but they might want even more from you. Some of these places like to make an example of VidTubers since they’re relatively new. Make them understand this is a business, not just a hobby.”

  I swallowed hard but squared my shoulders. “I got money. I can handle it.”

  “No, James, you can’t,” Monty added.

  “You know I’m a billionaire, right? Last I checked, all the Diaz brothers were billionaires.”

  “Right, but it’s more than just the money. It’s your name and reputation. Word will spread not to invest in you. That you’re a liability. If you wanted to do anything else, as a VidTuber or not, lots of companies would think twice before doing business with you,” my brother pointed out.

  What did any of that matter now?

  “I will be a farmer. I’m quitting show business and living quietly on a farm. Just came from the property I bought down the road. Already have people working on building the farm now.”

  Let my brothers and Pru wheel and deal with companies and show business and whatever else made them rich. I had enough and—except for Marika—I didn’t care if I ever dealt with a businessperson again.

  “You’re serious about that?” Monty asked at the same time Pru snorted.

  “I know it sounds out of the blue, but I used to tell Mom how I wanted to be a farmer all the time,” I said, and Monty’s eyes grew soft.

  “You never told me?”

  “We were kids. You and Rock used to gang up and make fun of me. Remember, I had that stuffed unicorn.”

  An enormous smile broke out on my brother’s face. “Corny! I remember Corny!”

  “You two would hide Corny all the time. Then make up horrible stories about how he was secretly a puppy killer. How he would go out at night, while I slept, and hunt down innocent puppies.”

  Monty rubbed his brow. “I don’t remember that. I remember hiding Corny, but not the stories.”

  “Maybe that was Rock . . . but the point is, telling you about my actual dreams and passions would have been made fun of. So, I kept it to myself, but sometimes I would talk to Mom about it. I made her swear never to tell anyone.”

  Pru put a hand to her chest. “Wow, that’s so sweet and sad, too.”

  “I’m sorry, James. I had no idea we were so tough on you. If you really want to be a farmer, I’ll support you, no matter what.”

  It felt good to tell Monty. I had kept that inside for so long that I felt like I was hiding a part of myself.

  It was such a relief when I let it out to Marika yesterday. I hadn’t realized how much it had been weighing me down. But when she asked me about what type of farmer I wanted to be, I realized how ill-prepared I was for this task.

  It had been an unattainable dream for so long that I had put little thought into it, other than just building a farm. When I went back to my room here at The Blue Spot, I immediately researched types of farms and what they required.

  I realized I liked a lot of different things. But I had to talk to people to get their input. Research.

  “If this is really what you want to do, James, then I support you too.”

  “Thanks, Pru. Does that mean I won’t be sued?”

  “Oh no. You’ll be sued like you’ve never been sued before.”

  “But I haven’t . . .”

  She winked. “See. Perhaps there’s a way we can work this in your favor. Let me think on it for a bit. Maybe a week, but in the meantime, can you please promise you’ll get me a good Joke’in James video? Your contract also states that you must maintain a certain amount of subscribers, and you’ve been losing a lot over the past few weeks.”

  An idea for a killer Joke’in James video popped in my head, but it was taking things a bit too far. If it was my last video as Joke’in James, I hoped my brothers would understand when they saw the video I wanted to do.

  I hoped Marika would too.

  Chapter 19

  MARIKA

  “We are swamped.” Susannah came through the doorway to the backroom of Hard Grind. She leaned against the doorframe, fanning her black T-shirt to cool off.

  “Okay, so why are you back here?”

  I unhooked my label maker from my belt loop and placed it and the black label gun on top of a box of coffee that had arrived two days ago on my day off.

  Thoughts of what I did with James at his new property that day caused my cheeks to burn. I hoped Susannah thought it was the lack of air-conditioning in the back room that caused me to flush and not what my mind was getting up to.

  “A customer asked for you specifically.”

  “Oh, great.” I smiled.

  That had been happening a lot lately. Since the Win a Date with a Billionaire show streamed on VidTube each day, more and more customers had come into Hard Grind asking about me.

  I didn’t care as long as they bought something. The fame thing was weird, and I wasn’t super comfortable with it, but if Hard Grind made money, I’d happily put up with the gawkers.

  “I’ll ring up customers if you take over labeling the new shipment.” I pointed to the boxes filled with coffee bags and thermoses.

  “Gladly.” Susannah pushed off the door frame and moved like a zombie toward the pricing gun.

  Our new employee was off today, so it was just me and Susannah. When I stepped out into the front of the shop, my eyes widened. The place was packed. I wished Susannah had said something earlier. I would have put off pricing the latest inventory to help her.

  There was a line of people at the cash register, so I sprinted over to help them. “Hi. Are you the person who wanted to see me? I’m Marika.”

  Her blue eyes went round. “Yes, uh, yes . . . that’s me. Wow. I’ve never met anyone famous before.”

  I winced. Was I famous? Really? A few videos of a contest for the channel of a resort hardly screamed fame.

  “Oh, well, I wouldn’t say I’m famous.”

  She nodded, her head moving rather rapidly. “Oh, but you are. There are fan groups that formed on ChatBook.” She took a step back and waved a hand at her shirt, which read #TeamMarika.

  “I’m not your biggest fan—that would be Carol in Richmond—but I’m definitely in the top ten. Oh, which reminds me . . . Carol would love it if I could take a picture of you to send to her.”

  I didn’t realize what was happening. I nodded and felt my body move around the counter as the woman with the #TeamMarika T-shirt put an arm around me and we took a selfie together as if we were old friends reuniting after many years of not seeing each other. I couldn’t help but notice the smirk as she explained sending the picture to Carol.

  I suspected there was some rivalry between the two. And what made it even stranger was that rivalry was over me.

  These women didn’t know me. I glanced around the room and noticed the heads turning my way with pointing fingers and loud whispers.

  “So, I heard that Belle is a mega bitch. Is that true?” she as
ked.

  “What? Oh, no. She’s very nice.”

  Dumb as rocks, but nice. I wouldn't tell her or anyone my opinion on Belle or any of the people in the contest.

  “I hear the owner of the resort is James Diaz’s brother. I bet James is the billionaire. What I wouldn’t do to him if I got to have dinner with that guy . . . Let’s just say I’d order the sausage, extra-long and thick.” She winked while elbowing me.

  The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. For the first time in my life, I wanted to smack someone, hard.

  My jaw tightened, and I cleared my throat. “I have no idea who the billionaire is. It’s a surprise. Now if you don’t mind, I have to get back to waiting on customers.”

  She tapped at her phone and nodded. “Right, I’m going over to the café at The Blue Spot. I want to catch a glimpse of the other contestants.”

  I nodded and moved away when I heard her add, “Besides, I hear the coffee is better over there.”

  My fingernails dug into my palms as I made fists. I sucked air in as hard as I could, desperate for a cleansing breath. I needed all the relaxation I could get right now.

  After a few more "fans” came up to gawk at me, someone finally ordered a coffee. That customer was not a fan, as she wore a #TeamBelle shirt and gave me the middle finger as she grabbed her coffee to leave.

  Most of my fans were nice and complimentary, but that first one was a doozy.

  After what felt like hours—but when I looked at the clock, it was only twenty minutes—Susannah emerged from the back.

  “Is your fan gone?”

  The line was gone, and most of the people sitting at the tables were locals. For the first time in my life, I had a fear of more customers.

  “You knew she was my fan?”

  Susannah twisted her face into the craziest expression. “Oh yeah. She was nuts. Kept asking if it had been my dream to work for you. And how amazing you were and if I could fuck or marry or kill you, which would it be?”

  “And?”

  “Marry you, obviously,” Susannah said, much to my relief.

  My curiosity got the better of me, and I asked, “So then who would you fuck and kill? Of the contestants in the contest?”