by Nella Tyler
“Not before killing all of you,” he grinned evilly. “It will give me great pleasure to hear you beg for mercy, only to then hear you scream in pain. It will fun to see you die.”
“Fun? Have you lost your mind completely?” Beni asked in astonishment.
“I’m very sane. Now move into the other room. All of you.” He jerked the gun toward the living room.
Meg was glad to go into the other room. This would allow Drake the opportunity to come back into the house. He could go down the back hall through the house. And that was exactly what he did. Drake slipped silently through the back door and moved down the back hallway. He needed to get to his bedroom and get his gun from the nightstand drawer. He could hear Doug bragging about how he intended to kill the girls and his blood boiled with anger. Well, he had a surprise for Murphy.
Chapter 25
Drake retrieved his gun from the nightstand drawer and moved quietly down the hall to the front of the house. He leaned against the corner of the wall and aimed at Doug.
“Drop the gun, Murphy,” Drake called out.
Doug quickly grabbed Meg and put the gun to her head.
“Now who’s going to drop their gun,” Doug boasted.
Meg fisted her hand and rammed it into Doug’s groin. He howled in pain and Meg pulled away from when a shot rang out. Doug fell to the floor wailing pitifully. Drake had shot him in his shoulder. Drake ran over to kick his gun away from him. Then he moved to Meg.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She nodded.
“I’m fine.”
He kissed her temple then started giving instructions.
“Beni, find something to tie him up with. Ashlee, get some towels for the wound. Meg, call paramedics,” he said. “I will call Lono.”
Everyone ran to do his bidding. In a few minutes, the paramedics had arrived along with Lono. Lono handcuffed Doug to the stretcher before they took him to the hospital.
“Good shot, Drake. If you ever decide to join the FBI, let me know. I’ll hook you up,” Lono grinned.
Drake smiled ruefully.
“I think I’ll stay in the construction business. It’s a lot safer.
Lono laughed.
“Now you can enjoy the island. Have fun!” he said, then left the house.
“It’s over. It’s really over!” Meg exclaimed.
The girls literally jumped for joy.
Epilogue
It was two years later and Meg sat on the lanai overlooking the beautiful Pacific Ocean. She rocked a baby boy in her lap who slept peacefully. Life could not be better. She was living in Hawaii on the lovely Oahu Island, living the life of luxury. She and Drake had married four months after their adventure and now had had a beautiful, baby boy: Chase Alexander Hanover. Meg didn’t believe it possible that she could be happier. She had everything that she had ever wanted.
She often saw Peleke and they would have long, happy talks. He had become a good friend, and it no longer perturbed her that he would leave as mysteriously as he had come. Doug was now serving twelve years in prison for theft and attempted murder. Denise had never been found, but she had miraculously sent the treasure to the Bishop Museum. Meg had received a text from her stating that money had not brought her happiness and maybe it would come to her if she did the right thing. Meg returned her text wishing her well.
Beni and Ashlee had moved to Oahu as well. They said they couldn’t envision a life being so far away from their best friend. Meg was moved by their friendship and love. But she knew that their decisions to move to Oahu had a lot to do with Kai and Noah, whom they were engaged to.
“There are my two most favorite people in the world.”
She tilted her face up to receive Drake’s kiss. He then kissed Chase’s forehead. He sat on the arm of Meg’s chair and stared out at the view.
“I never grow tired of this view. I think it’s the most beautiful in the world,” he sighed.
“I agree. I could sit in this chair forever and never tired of it,” she smiled. “How was work?”
“The Tropics will be open for patrons next week.”
“Really! Finally. It’s has taken longer to rebuild than you had thought,” she mused.
“Yeah. But it was worth all of the extra time. It’s absolutely gorgeous. Just stunning. I will have a grand re-opening to welcome our first guests,” he said.
“It’s a sign of the good things to come for us,” she said.
“I can agree with that. We have a wonderful life. And it’s only going to get better and better.” He tilted her face again and kissed her deeply.
Meg melted into his caress and thought he was absolutely correct.
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Sleeping With A Billionaire
Sleeping With A Billionaire
By Nella Tyler
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 Nella Tyler
Chapter 1
Tim
The scent of coffee filled the house, but I was up in time to hear the timer click on and pour out the first drop of morning salvation.
Regardless of the previous night’s activities, I was always awake and ready to start my day by 7:05 a.m.
As my large cup filled, I ran a quick shower and picked out one of my pressed Armani suits from the closet. After adorning dress socks, shined penny loafers, and a matching tie, perfectly contorted into a Double-Windsor, I was ready to take on the world – and that was no exaggeration.
As I reached for the coffee, I caught a glimpse of my Rolex watch, but it didn’t inform me of anything I wasn’t already aware of. Almost automatically, I switched my mug with a to-go cup.
I was right on time, and as I took the first sip of steaming hot java, I turned on the television, pre-programmed to the only channel worth watching: the stocks.
From a young age, I was exceptionally good at working with computers and problem-solving. Knowing that I was better at it than any of my peers, and even most of the people living in the small, backwards town where I was forced to grow up, gave me the drive and the arrogance I needed to allow my talent to flourish into a business, with which I could make a real life for myself.
The second I could, I packed up my belongings and moved out to Fresno, California, where everything seemed to be on fire – including my career.
I had hit the ground running and never looked back.
At times, it seemed like even three time zones and the roughly 2,700-mile distance, nearly an entire width of a country away, wasn’t far enough to escape my roots.
Yet, on mornings like this, when I sat there, knowing that the North Carolina sun never shone this bright, sipping a brand of expensive coffee that was unheard of where I was from, watching the stocks of internet companies that I saved rise, I finally felt as though I had escaped the all-consuming drudgery of a small-town life.
I grinned at the thought as I mentally prepared myself for severing the ties with a few of the companies that I was currently watching with pride and accomplishment.
Always leave them wanting more, I thought to myself, draining my cup as I heard lazy movement in my room.
I liked to think that a reason I was so successful was because, for as good as I was at what I did, I never let emotion get in the way of a good fiscal opportunity. Inherently knowing that the usefulness of these companies had climaxed, I wasn’t about to wait around to draw affiliation or perceived obligation.
The same goes for my women. I snickered at the thought, hearing a comely blonde with big tits and a tight ass stumble into the hallway behind me. I didn’t even have to turn around to know that the woman was fumbling with h
er high heels while sauntering toward me with the remaining lust from last night still lingering in her gaze.
I rolled my eyes at the pathetic nature of it all.
With a wide turn, I grasped the to-go cup in my hand and grinned with devilish charm.
“Good morning…beautiful…” I lied.
Besides her flawless body, which was nearly still as uncovered as when it was writhing underneath my sexual advances the night before, sleep and lack of alcohol had erased most of her allure. Her makeup was smudged and her hair, which had been smooth when I clasped it in my grasp the night before, was now knotted and unkempt. Her dress now looked too big for her, as she had lost a few of the buttons in our haste and had only managed to slip into one high heel before I acknowledged her.
For a gorgeous woman, sleep certainly did not become her.
As she giggled and hastened her step in my direction, hobbling as she struggled to barrel her other foot into her remaining shoe, I approached.
“I normally don’t do that…” she insisted as I held the coffee out to her.
“We had a wonderful night, darling. Why end it with a lie? If you’re expecting me to assuage your guilt by telling you that you are the first woman I’ve brought here, you picked the wrong man.”
Her lips parted, instantly aghast, but it didn’t faze me at all. Our business had concluded. She had climaxed, and I had enjoyed the company of a beautiful woman. I had made a habit of never allowing anything – woman or business – to overstay its welcome, and this slip of a woman was no exception.
“I believe it’s time for you to go,” I added, handing her coffee and hoping to God I hadn’t offended her enough that she would think she was entitled to throw it at me.
Not showing that I thought that might be a possibility, though, I drew closer, snaked an arm around her waist, and escorted her to the door.
Once I had effortlessly closed it behind her, I turned to the mirror that hung next to the doorway. Gazing at my reflection keenly, I adjusted my tie, yanked at the bottom of my suit jacket, and ran a smooth hand through my hair, adjusting it appropriately.
Once I was satisfied, both with my reflection and that the woman had left the premises, I swiped up my keys and yanked open the opposite door, leading to a large garage. Before me, the automatic lighting flickered to life, revealing a sea of expensive cars, which were only to be driven by myself.
However, there was always one that stood out above the rest and currently, it was a new Maserati, gifted to me by a grateful client who owned a dealership in the area. Since this particular car still had a good couple of months before it was released, even to the elite public such a vehicle catered to, I was enjoying being the root of everyone’s envy.
Steely azure, with chrome alloy wheels, dark-tinted windows, and a roar that could shake the clothes off a supermodel, this car was a dream to drive. Sleek, sexy, and made for speed, this car was the wet dream of every one of my clients and the passport between their wife’s legs, if I was so inclined.
I slid effortlessly into the car, revving the engine simply to hear the hum of it barrage my eardrums.
The large garage doors opened, spilling the sunshine onto the cement in front of me and across the windshield. Already, the temperature had started to rise to a comforting level, common for a California February, but nearly unheard of anywhere else.
Some might say that it was unnatural, that the world was coming to an end, but as an inherent extraordinaire of warm weather, I couldn’t give a fuck why California was blessed with such intense temperatures. All I cared about was having the top down and enjoying it.
If it meant the end of the world, well, I’ve had a damn good run.
I put the car in drive as the engine roared. Pressing my foot down on the pedal, centrifugal force thrust me back, deep into the seat as the throttle ignited a firestorm of intense exhilaration – one of the few emotions I allowed myself.
The car lurched forward and within moments, the vehicle was coming up fast on a rod iron gate that parted for me as I approached. Blasting through the open gate, I pressed a button and eyed the rear-view mirror to ensure that the gate started to secure itself again as I passed. The buzz of the motors and the final clang of the lock hinging into place was instantly lost to the sound of my engine and the precedence, that even in this town flooded with bravado, that I aspired to master.
It didn’t take me long to reach my office. I had ensured it that way, but I hadn’t counted on the idea that I would enjoy the ride so much, that I would wish it were longer. Still, after a long day, the short distance was an advantage that no pleasurable ride could contend with.
Despite my usual flair, however, my office was modest; then again, in California when your office is ranked against Google and Facebook, due to the in-state proximity, virtually every other office is modest.
Yet, in this case, my office was purposefully small. The space of a few secretaries and other hires made the business always appear to be bustling without having to trust too many people. I had a strict sense of self and purpose. Having too many people in my inner-circle clouded that focus significantly. Plus, the more eyes I had on my prize, the leerier I had to be.
Though, for as subtle as the office was in size, my own professional space made up for in prestige.
A mahogany desk stretched out in the middle of the room, nearly closing it off at each end, while large windows rose behind it, giving a magnificent view of the city. At night, it was especially beautiful.
I had spent many nights, both professionally and intimately, in the company of this view and, to me, it was one of the best in the world. While beautiful in its own right, the aesthetics of this office combined with my personal accomplishment made it all the more appealing to my gaze.
I had barely had a moment to sit behind the desk in my leather chair when there was a knock at the door, followed by an expected intrusion.
“Mr. Meck?” my assistant Carly called as her long, thin legs strutted into the room. At one time, they had intrigued me, but after finally satisfying the urge to know if the rest of her body matched what was promised by her short, tight-fitting attire, I’d decided she was far more suited for assisting than fucking.
Unfortunately, after that night, embarrassment and disbelief at my unintended, but genuine rejection had caused her to take a far more professional air.
Starting the next day, she made a few annoying changes. The most noticeable of which was switching from calling me Tim to always referring to me as Mr. Meck. I supposed that she couldn’t say my name in a professional setting without delving into the memory of how many times she’d screamed it during our personal escapade and ultimately decided it was for the best.
“Yes, Carly?” I answered as I booted up my computer and entered my password before purposefully staring her in the eyes, trying to break her newfound nervousness.
“Um…don’t forget, you have an appointment with Mr. Brantley at noon. I’ve already taken care of your reservation and called his office to remind him of the meeting.”
“Excellent!” I answered jovially, meaning it as much as I meant anything that I said to anyone lately. I grinned, but it was more to myself than for her. She really was a catch in the secretarial world, though I pitied her husband.
Not only was she screwing everything with a dick, but when she did have any left for him, I knew from personal experience that the wrapping was far better than what was inside.
She gave me a small, coy grin, but averted her eyes, as though she thought my dissatisfaction with her extracurricular services would cause me to jeopardize my well-oiled office by threatening to tell her husband or something stupid like that.
The only saving grace to her not knowing me well enough to know I didn’t give a shit was the proof that I was succeeding in hiding my true self from even those who I spent time with daily.
“Is there anything else?” I asked, slightly expecting her to say something that wasn’t work related and hoping I was
wrong.
“No, Sir. That is the only thing that is on your calendar today.”
“Thank you.” I nodded and returned my attention to my now fully-booted computer. That might be the only meeting I had today, but that certainly wasn’t all the work I had to complete. Thus, I turned my full attention and concentration to my work.
At eleven thirty, dear, sweet, shitty-in-bed-but-the-best-assistant-ever Carly came back into my office to tell me a car was waiting out front to take me to my noon appointment.
I would’ve preferred to take my own car, if only to watch Mr. Jacob Brantley attempt to commandeer the vehicle for far more than it was worth to gain the status.
If I needed more money than I knew what to do with delivered in one large sum, I might consider it, if only to make my client happy. Yet, while Mr. Brantley was a current asset, watching him squirm in the throes of obscene amounts of money as I declined every disgusting offer was far more fun.
Alas, such a joyride would have to wait.
I had a professional meeting to attend with what was still an important client and thus, I had to put my amusement aside for the sake of my one true passion: my business and the life I had built for myself.
From the impenetrable walls to the priceless cars, the suits and, yes, the money, I had worked extremely hard to gain and maintain what I was all-too aware only one bad decision could take away.
Therefore, every choice I made, every breath I took, was a calculated mass of risk and reward.
At lunch, Mr. Brantley and I ate while we conversed about his favorite subject: football. I couldn’t care less about such mindless shit, but it was easy enough to carry on an informed conversation about it, pretending I was interested, so ultimately, I didn’t mind.
