Jack_A Cryptocurrency Billionaire Romance

by Sara Forbes

  “Where were your parents in all of this?”

  “Mom was so busy working night shifts, she didn’t know what was going on. Dad worked away from home on an oil rig, the stereotypical absent father. I did love him though. They kept the money in a bank account until I was sixteen, thinking I’d be sensible enough at that age to spend it wisely. Boy, were they wrong.”

  “There’s no reason to doubt yourself just because of your rocky start—if anything, it will make you more resilient. With hard work and clever decisions, you can still make it. Believe me.”

  I cock my head. “You gave up acting though.”

  He rubs his jaw. “I’d prefer to say I transitioned across the industry.”

  “For the money?”

  He frowns. “That’s a one-dimensional way of looking at it.”

  I raise my eyebrows at his sudden cool tone. If I’m going to share my past then he can do some sharing too. Fair is fair. “Care to add a dimension. Or two?”

  He picks up a stone and flings it across the beach toward the sea, and I’m thinking he’s all closed up when he turns to me with a passionate glow in his eyes. “It’s a bit like your story. I was going along like many young actors, striving for fame and fortune, doing the grunt work. Then I got lucky.”

  “You got a big role?” I ask in surprise. “You must’ve used a stage name, because I couldn’t find anything on Google.”

  He laughs. “No. Unfortunately, that never happened. It happened…another way.”

  He shifts his position in the sand. “It was 2008. I’d just been paid for my first commercial, a whopping $1,500 for playing the poor schlep who let LeBron James dunk on him while talking about deodorant.”

  I clap my hands gleefully. “I have to see that.” I shift so that our arms make contact. It feels so good, sending thrills throughout my bloodstream.

  “Felix—that’s my brother—and I were living on the east side of LA, and one night, we bumped into this guy in a billiard bar in Pasadena, Egan—British, very suave, Ralph Loren shirt, perfect teeth, the works. Over beers, he told us about some nerdy friend of his, Paul, who was obsessed with Bitcoin. Felix, of course, gets excited straight away and talks me into investing—instead of buying the secondhand Honda Civic I had my eye on.”

  “Hence the Bitcoin book,” I blurt. “Uh, I—I might have had a peek at your Kindle.”

  He grins. “That’s OK, Mia. It’s worth a read if you’re ever stuck on a desert island.

  “Not funny." I slap his arm. “Continue.”

  “Anyway, I bought $700 worth at $5 per coin, and the market tanked to 3 cents the next day. I was pretty sore about it, told Felix what I thought of his gamble. Egan and Paul had vanished into thin air, so I wrote off the loss and focused on my next acting gig, never expecting to hear from those scam artists again.”

  “Ouch. At least you had $800 left from your salary, right?”

  His face creases into a smile. “That’s what Felix said. Yeah, and things improved jobwise, so I just forgot about it until six years later when Egan called me up out of the blue. He wanted to talk over investment strategy. Before I could slam the phone down, he said that if I hadn’t touched my investment, it was now worth a good bit more and did I want to make that grow further? I thought he was scamming me again, but Felix got the same call, and he told Egan and Paul to do whatever they wanted. I wanted to see some proof.” He laughs. “It was real, all right. I converted some to US dollars and started Palmer Productions.”

  “You went straight from being an actor to being CEO of your production company?”

  He nods. “Yes.”

  “Wow.” What would I do if I got a sudden windfall? After hitting all the high-end boutiques with a vengeance and staying in the most expensive hotel in Hawaii, ordering champagne and lobster for breakfast and generally swanking around like Audrey Hepburn? The weird little image of starting my own little acting school for sick kids crawls out of some neglected recess in my brain. Not in Hawaii but in East LA.

  Like I say, weird.

  Jack’s watching me intently, so I flash him a quick smile. “Well, good for you. Do you prefer life as a producer then?”

  He hesitates. “I’m better at business than I ever was at acting. I’ve control over the process; I’m the one making the decisions. I only got into acting because I thought I couldn’t do much else. Turned out, I was good with numbers, too. I just didn’t have the right academic environment earlier. We were a poor family. But I would have ended up in the same place even without the Bitcoin. It just would have taken me a bit longer.”

  “Of course you would,” I say lightly, because he’s looking, and sounding, kind of intense. Angry almost. But there’s vulnerability underneath. It’s not the time to test him. I simply nod, accepting his story.

  He rises. “Now I need to find food or I’m going to get irritable. You don’t want to see me when I’m irritable.”

  “Will you turn into the Hulk?”

  “You never know,” he growls.

  ***

  I’M ASLEEP, OR must be, when something brushes my cracked lips. My first thought is wild animal! I jolt awake, slapping my hand out in self-defense. My vision clears. It’s just Jack. He’s running his thumb over my lips. I taste salt from his thumb tip.

  Relief turns quickly to a different kind of panic. Awareness shoots straight from my lips to my groin. Just as I’m about to let my tongue make contact with his thumb, he thrusts something into my hand, something cylindrical and cold.

  Cold?

  I peer down at it then scramble up. “Water! How did you?”

  Jack’s grinning. “I found a spring. Of the most delicious, cool, bubbling water in the whole wide world.”

  I let out a howl of joy and unscrew the cap, gulping down the contents. This water is the sweetest, heavenliest liquid I have ever tasted. Of course, I end up spluttering, water dripping down my chin, but I don’t care.

  He’s laughing. “It was worth fighting the snake to see the expression your face.”

  “The snake?” I pull the bottle from my lips. “What snake, Jack?”

  “That’s what took me so long. There was a snake in the undergrowth. I don’t know if it was dangerous. We can Google it.”

  “Jack!” I clutch the sides of my head. “You don’t mess with snakes. You certainly don’t fight them. There are lethal ones in this region. What did it look like?” I did my homework on dangerous animals on Caribbean islands before I came here. Call me paranoid.

  He shrugs. “Khaki and black, typical snakeskin. You know Scarlett’s designer bag? Just like that.”

  “What shape of head did it have?”

  “Mean looking. Triangular.”

  “Oh my god.” I’m pacing in a circle. “It’s a fer-de-lance. I bet it was.”

  “Right, well, he’s there in the forest.”

  “Do you know how deadly those things are? Are you sure you didn’t get bitten? Take off your boots so I can see.”

  “Really, I didn’t get bitten. I would know.”

  “Take them off,” I order, channeling my mom’s bossy nurse voice because he sounds way too relaxed about this. I must do it convincingly—he slumps down on the sand and pulls off his boots and socks without further ado.

  I inspect his feet. He has nicely shaped feet, and I see no red blotch that would herald his imminent death.

  “Any other parts of me you’d like to inspect?”

  I glare at him. “This is no laughing matter, Jack. Remember Bear Gryllis?”

  “He got bitten?”

  “No, his director did. Foot blew up to size of a melon and he had to have extensive grafts done.” I grip his shoulders. “Had you been bitten, we’d have no access to antivenom or any form of medical care and you’d be dead. Dead!”

  “But I didn’t,” he reasons calmly. “And as you can see, I’m OK.”

  “Can you please just not risk your life, like, for the next forty-eight hours? Can you do that?”

 
He leans closer. His scent is a heady mix of sunscreen, sea salt, and masculinity. “Just the next forty-eight hours?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I breathe. “After that, you can die whatever way suits you best.”

  His face is inches from mine, his breath soft on my cheeks. “You don’t mean that.”

  And just like that, I’m helpless again. There’s something primal in his gaze. My heart’s racing, my body remembering oh so clearly our four-second kiss, his strong embrace, his masterful tongue.

  He releases my grip on the bottle and grinds it deep into the sand. Then he straightens and lifts my fingers of each hand in his large, warm hands and pulls me into his chest. I’m incapable of speech or of doing anything but losing myself in those gorgeous blues. The sun glints like gold filigree on his dark eyelashes. Wordlessly, he cups my chin and lifts it up to meet his lips.

  This time, I sink into the experience. I close my eyes to the sensation of his mouth, gently probing my lips. He flicks his tongue around the edge of my lips, marking territory, then brings his mouth down hard, letting me feel his power over me, his incredible instinct for what I want.

  My hips arch and grind against his pelvis, seeking the rest of his body’s attention. I want him all. With shaking hands, I grip his T-shirt in a tight twist, wildly pushing up the fabric. I need this man to fuck me now. And he wants it too. All that stuff about him being bossy? Overbearing?

  Fuck that. I had no idea. I’m not even that girl anymore.

  There’s no one here, not for three thousand miles each way.

  14

  JACK

  HER MOUTH TASTES GLORIOUS. The flavor of spring water, salt, and arousal. She pulls me against her body, hooking her arms around my neck, climbing me. This woman knows what she wants. I’m near to coming just thinking about what she’ll be like when she does.

  “I don’t have condoms.” I grunt, helping her yank the camisole over her head. Her black bikini top underneath greets me like an old friend, but it’s time to say goodbye to it. My fingers trail over the swell of her breasts—the skin I’ve dreamed about touching. A little moan escapes her as I pull the top down, her nipple going hard as I caress her perfect skin. I flick my tongue across her pink peak, take her into my mouth and suck. At first softly, then harder.

  Mia moans, keening in her throat. Pinned against the tree, she bucks against me urgently. Her unabashed need makes me wild.

  “Wait,” she says, and indicates for me to set her down. She squirms over to her purse and pulls out something. A small square of plastic glints in the sunlight. “Courtesy of first class on American Airlines.”

  “They don’t have condoms in airline bathrooms.”

  “Don’t they?” she grins. “Have you ever checked?”

  “No, but—”

  “Lucky I did then, huh?”

  As I’m still wondering whether she’s joking or not, she kisses me again. She’s tugging at my T-shirt so I yank it over my head, tossing it away. Closing my eyes to the sun, I feel Mia’s hands trailing over my chest, down my torso. She kisses my neck, flicks her tongue across my nipple.

  When I can’t hold out any longer, I slide my hand between her legs, feeling how damp the bikini bottom is. I yank it down and she gasps. I play with her for a moment, circling my finger around the swollen bud of her clit. This earns me a throaty, encouraging moan. But I hold back. I inch my fingertips up and down the seam of her pussy until her juices soak me. I repeat until she’s gasping and thrashing against me. This is what I wanted.

  Slowly, I edge my fingers inside of her and try not to groan myself. Her body encloses around my fingers, claiming them as hers. But I want to play, so I start pumping, slowly, then harder. My thumb settles on her clit, pressing, rubbing. I’m doing all I can to drive her as crazy as she’s been driving me for the past week.

  Her arms encircle my neck. “I’m close. I’m gonna come…” She pants. “Oh God.” She grinds against my hand, her whimpers getting louder, her pussy gripping me fiercely.

  Christ.

  “You can come when I’m inside you,” I say gruffly. I lift her up and pin her against the tree trunk. “Not until then.”

  Mia hisses in response. I bite into the packaging of the condom and rip the plastic. Her hot little hand encircles my cock. I feel the rough calluses of her palm against my skin, and I groan with pleasure.

  She’s the one in control because I need her more than life itself. Her tender squeezing of my cock is undoing any last ounces of self-control I thought I had. She strokes me down to my base and drags her hand up again. She repeats the pattern of dragging and squeezing, and it’s tempting to let her continue because she’s doing it perfectly, but I know that her pussy will be even better.

  I take the condom out of my mouth and hold it between my fingers as my tongue trails the curve of her breast. She rewards me with strokes that come harder and faster. She’s so in tune with what I need.

  “Jack, I can’t stand this,” she whispers. Her lips dot kisses along my jaw while her fingers circle the head of my cock. “I need you inside me.”

  She takes the condom and rolls it over me. I was in danger of dropping it in the sand—God forbid. I part her legs and ease her down, my cock drawing a line from her clit to her opening. She snorts and grabs a fistful of my hair. She’s so primal, so undone as I slide into her warmth. Then I pull out halfway. The way her body grips me is miraculous, so hot and possessive. My cock never wants to be anywhere else.

  She presses her lips to mine, hard, assertive, almost violent. Then she rakes her nails down my back, and I grunt deep in her throat.

  I pull away, panting hard, then take a tour down her throat and neck. Her salty taste makes me harder.

  Her mouth is at my ear, her breath hot. “Jack. Jack.”

  Before I can answer, her tongue’s plunging, stroking, filling, and I give up any notion of holding on. Not that I even want to. I stroke her clit once more and finally ease my cock back inside of her. She pulls me in deep, her heat enveloping me even through the sheath. I let out a ragged breath and push until I can’t go deeper. When I’m buried to the hilt, I let out a moan.

  She’s squeezing me, taking me to a new level of bliss, muttering my name as she tries to keep me inside. But I want to feel the friction of pulling out and pushing in. I savor the feel of her wet, perfect flesh pulling along with mine and then pushing back as I sink in again. Every sensation is imprinted deep in my brain. Her flushed face, her parted lips, her eyes turning wide and glassy…she’s enjoying this too and I’m inching her toward the perfect bliss.

  I thrust hard until I’m convinced we’ve scared all the little animals off the island with our noises. Mia bucks and claws at me, and I bury my face in her throat to keep from telling her something I’ll live to regret. Hell, I could have already screamed out something for all I know. My balls tighten and I’m close as all hell, but I want to see her come undone first.

  I hold her against the tree, supporting her waist while my other hand slips between our bodies. When I reach her clit nestled inside her slippery flesh, she goes crazy, pumping against me faster and harder. Her hair whips against my face, and I swallow her cries that get more intense as I nudge her clit faster. Everything I do seems magically right; her reactions couldn’t be more perfect,

  “Come for me,” I say and drive my cock in deep.

  She jerks, whimpers, and mumbles incoherently now, almost angry.

  I feel my orgasm build, and as she spasms, tightening around my dick, I try to hold on one more second. But I can’t. I jerk and spill uncontrollably inside of her, opening my eyes just in time to see the beauty of her letting go.

  “Jack, yes, oh yessss.”

  I support her as she slides off me, to the ground, wavers, then leans her head into my chest. I lay my hand on the nape of her neck, slick with sweat, still pulsing hard. I caress her slowly as our heartbeats return to something more normal.

  God, his woman. This moment. This is the reason I’m alive
.

  She’s gasping as she pulls away to look at me. There’s a moment of perfect stillness as she regards me with a flushed, happy face.

  “I had no idea I needed to do that with you,” she says with a little laugh.

  “Well, I had a fair idea.”

  She laughs again, this time with a throaty, sexy sound I could hear forever and not get tired of. “You just had to know better.”

  The teasing sparkle is back in her eyes, albeit softened by lust and satiation. I’m glad she’s not swinging her fist in the direction of my jaw or otherwise second-guessing this. Because I’m beginning to think it was the best decision of my life. It wasn’t even a decision; it was pure instinct.

  I reach down and grab the water bottle out of the sand. It’s still cool. I unscrew the top. If I poured it over Mia, it would vaporize immediately, she’s that hot.

  “Here.”

  “No.” She pants, waving at it. “You first. You look like you need it more than me.”

  I shake my head. “Drink,” I order. “We have an endless supply.”

  She shrugs and takes a swig. “Best things in life are free.”

  ***

  WE’RE CURLED UP TOGETHER on top of the sleeping bag, dozing in the shade of the trees in the afternoon heat. I think we’ve been like this for an hour, but it may be two, or six. Being away from clocks and computers and stressed people makes time seem like something fluid and irrelevant, a silly man-made invention.

  I sit up and tug on my dried-out socks and boots. “You were kidding about the condoms, right?”

  She props herself up on one elbow. “Are you still talking about that? Airport pharmacy, actually.”

  “Right. It would be weird for an airline to supply them. I mean, people are going to be at it like jackrabbits without encouraging them.”