Lucas (A Billionaire Bad Boy Novel)

by Adriana Jones

  She was spilling out of her dress already. It was split down the front. Melanie was almost as tall as me, which kind of pissed me off, since I knew most of it was her heels.

  I never really understood a woman’s obsession with trying to be taller than a man. I didn’t really understand women’s emotions, all of that relationship stuff. It never went well for me. I knew how to give them orgasms. That always seemed like enough.

  Some guys think it’s as easy as putting part A into slot B. Not so easy.

  I liked challenges, and every woman was a new puzzle to crack.

  I shoved open the door to my suite. After locking the door behind us, I let the familiarity of the room wash over me. Home. Melanie had been in the room before. She knew what the ropes hanging off the steel framed bed were for. She knew about the hidden panel in the wall which kept my paddles and gags. Where all of my dark tools were.

  It was a sprawling space, but it was mainly one room with a bathroom. All black leather furniture leading to the bed. The walls were thick, so no one could hear the blasting of the bass, nor would anyone hear moans, women at their highest sexual abandonment, in the midst of orgasms that they thought were extinct until they met me.

  Melanie thrust her dress off, letting it slide off her slender frame. She kept her chest held high to show off her exquisite, doctored breasts, created by the best plastic surgeons money could buy. Scars were hard to find. I tried my best last time.

  My fingers clasped her behind the neck. I gave her a firm squeeze.

  Her eyes twinkled at me. “I’ve been waiting to come back again, Thor.”

  I hated when people called me that. I resembled him with my strong jaw line and medium length blond hair, but that was where the resemblances ended. I had light blue eyes, so light, they were grey. The ring of gold around them helped with contrast. I was strict with my exercise regimen, not because I enjoyed it, but because I needed it. It softened my edges. Every muscle in my body was crafted with purpose, crafted through hard work.

  “Tonight I’ll be your god, but you’ll call me by any other god’s name. I hate that one.”

  I hated to be compared to others.

  It reminded me of my father’s wishes for me: Marry. Give heirs. Grandchildren. Little budding versions of him that would run the company in my stead.

  I wasn’t good at that.

  My cock inched forward. My balls surged. Frustration boiled over. When it broke over me, it seemed to evaporate into the air, only to be replaced by that horny demon inside me, raging and howling, breaking free of its chains. My razor sharp focus honed in on Melanie’s plump, cherry lips, then lowered to her breasts, on down to her pussy, nice and pink with a pubic heart.

  “Whatever you want,” she said again. She tried to remain poised. I noticed slight twitching in her thighs.

  She was nice and wet. Ready for me.

  Good. I was hard, at my thickest and longest, in the mood for a hard fuck.

  A wife? A family? I might have been an asshole, but I wasn’t that much of an asshole. I would spare any sweet girl from myself.

  “Suck my cock, Melanie.”

  She dropped to her knees. Melanie was well trained. I started to unzip my fly, but I thought otherwise. Melanie was a good cock sucker. Not taking off my pants would be leaving my balls out of it. She was good at licking and caressing them.

  I stripped off my jacket and my shirt. My throbbing cock peaked in my boxers. I took them off as well, then thrust my needy member to her lips. She opened wide and let me in.

  Home, sweet home.

  Stress left me. It might be the only time when it did. In that sweet mouth, my cock was all I thought about. Usually, I would use a girl, wind my fingers through their hair and need to fuck their mouth. Melanie was good at this so I let her go, letting her slurp and bob on me until she got all the way down my length.

  She massaged and licked with her soft tongue, worshipping me.

  “Get back up. Go over to the bed and turn around.”

  Melanie wiped my salty taste off her lips. She shrugged it off and strutted over to my bed, letting me see her ass jiggle as she did. I could use more jiggle, but that pussy looked good enough, nice and tight for me to get off to.

  “Close your eyes.”

  Where was my blindfold? It surprised me that I allowed her to suck me off without it on. Taking a step back, I reached into one of my cabinets and pulled one free. I placed it around her.

  She wiggled her ass back. Her silky opening touched my tip. Primed and ready, I ran my dick against her slick pussy. She gasped. Her pussy grasped to pull me in. I gave her the pleasure by slowly sliding inside of her, shoving open her tightness and driving until her end, filling her.

  “Lucas, yes,” she hollered. “Fuck me, please,” she whined.

  Oh, no, no, that wasn’t allowed.

  I swatted her ass. The sting bolted her back. I shoved her down.

  “You don’t make requests. I command you. You can scream my name as you come. Nothing more.”

  I pulled my hearty cock out. I shoved it back in. Melanie loved it rough and hard. I think she liked how I fucked compared to all those other lifeless rich boys. Maybe she even loved me for it. I wasn’t sure, but I was pretty sure that she just loved money.

  “Lucas,” she moaned.

  I let loose, hitting her grooves mechanically, without emotion, just punishing thrusts. Pinning her down as she shook, I spread her thighs even wider with my knees and she opened wide, giving me an even better angle.

  This was what I was made for.

  This is what made me, me. This is what I was good at.

  My name resounded off the walls, so much I was sure that the soundproofing would be useless. Lucas, Lucas, Lucas, Luuuuucas!

  She broke. I slammed my cock into her. Her pleasure swelled. The orgasm crashed over her. Melanie howled my name. She pushed herself free of my grasp as she came, but I shoved her back down, allowing her a moment of recklessness.

  “Can I take it off?” she asked.

  She reached for the blindfold. No! I caught her hand.

  “You don’t ever take that off without me telling you. Got it?”

  We couldn’t do this unless she was blindfolded. When I didn’t see her eyes, I could go through with this. I didn’t trust her otherwise.

  Melanie dropped her back onto the bed. I pounded her against that firm mattress, but no matter how much my cock rushed into her, I couldn’t get off. After her second orgasm, in which she really struggled beneath me, she couldn’t last. I pulled out, giving up on coming for the evening.

  Numb. I could fuck, but I couldn’t get off.

  Melanie should’ve been asking if everything was fine. She was sucked into her hedonistic high. I couldn’t blame her.

  I sat on the edge of the bed and got dressed. Sprawled out, Melanie panted at the ceiling.

  My tie was finished. I was ready to leave. “You can stay here, or I can lead you out, but I need to go.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “When will I see you again?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. At least I was honest.

  “I’ll stay here,” she said with a husky moan. She leaned back against the pillows. “That was unreal.”

  I gave her a curt nod. I left her to her post orgasm laze. When I entered the club again, that dark part of me seemed to take hold again. All of my stresses were back. Pressure nagged at my temples, slowly crushing me.

  Sean waved at me from the bar. I sat on the stool.

  “Whiskey. Quick.”

  “Never heard of that one,” he said, grinning. “Actually, I hear it all the time. Here.”

  He slid me a shot. I downed it. Burning down my throat wiped clear thoughts of wives, babies, and stocks, at least for a moment.

  Mmm, wait. Stocks were good. Stocks, stocks all to myself…not having to share it with little brats. I could buy myself a new boat! One could never have enough boats. />
  “What’s got you exceptionally brooding?”

  “Father,” I muttered.

  Sean’s eyes darted to the other patrons, but he remained talking to me, letting the other bartenders pick up their orders. “Brent stopped by. I wish he would really piss off.”

  “He’s just doing his job. He’s good at it.”

  “He told me that I should try to convince you of something.”

  “Why aren’t you?”

  Sean grinned. He leaned in. God, he was pale. It added to his charm of being one of the normal ones around there, though. Everyone else had bronze, Roman-like skin. It looked unnatural, like they were part of some LA cult.

  He took a wet towel and wiped down the bar. “Give me a second to try. I think you should do it.”

  “Why’s that?”

  He tossed the towel over his shoulder, then dumped it in a nearby wash bin. “Look at you, Lucas. You’re bored. You need something else.”

  He was right about one thing. I was bored. Was a life of domestic slavery one I needed?

  My eyes scanned the crowd. Melanie hadn’t staggered out bow legged from my ravaging. All of her clones were out dancing. Everyone knew who they mingled with. A game of money played out on the dance floor. I wasn’t interested.

  “If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. What’s the harm in trying? A lot of guys would die for a chance to be set up with beautiful women like the type you fuck and don’t give a damn about.”

  “That’s it, Sean.” I stood up and shoved the stool back. “You beautiful bastard, you. That just gave me a terrific idea.”

  I would use my father’s plan, meeting a group of eligible wives to my advantage. Some of the chosen women would be groomed to fall at my heels, but some of them wouldn’t even know who I was.

  I would fuck them. All of them. Divide and conquer. A new hunt to be excited about. Finally, women with backbones! Eventually, when they discovered who I really was, they would bow out, leaving no eligible maidens for me to marry.

  In the end, I would be free.

  A man like myself always needed a new challenge.

  This would be my new conquest.

  And no one could say I didn’t try.

  This was going to be fun.

  I rubbed my hands gleefully like an evil villain as Sean stared at me like I was an idiot.

  We’d see who was the idiot in the end.

  Chapter 3

  Tia

  Brent opened the door to a new world. He threw his arms up like this was my surprise birthday party.

  This would be where I was working? Or were we just having the interview here? There were so many questions I wanted to ask and not enough time.

  “Welcome, Ms. Nichols. I’m very pleased you showed up.”

  I needed to get a long cab to this beachfront estate in Corona Del Mar, but I didn’t think I would be regretting it. Being inside this place of such exquisite beauty was worth the money. I peered up at the high ceilings, the stark white architecture and all of the windows that opened up to a beautiful blue reflection of the ocean. The whole house was open. The back half circle took in a wider view of the beach. In the front, it looked like a French chateau that curled around to the beach. A slight rocky dip lead to a private entrance in the back.

  The living room bustled with women, my competition.

  I grimaced at the beauty which surrounded me, wondering how much each item was worth and how I could easily be out of debt by pawning anything I saw.

  Brent waited patiently. He always seemed to be smirking about some hidden joke.

  “Come, Ms. Nichols, don’t get cold feet now. Go on into the living room. I will take your folder from you. Then I will explain more there.”

  “You can call me Tia.”

  “Yes, Tia,” he said. I took a step closer. He led me to the other women. That’s when I really wanted to bolt out the door.

  They turned and glared at me as I approached.

  I dressed nicely, in a shapely black dress, for what was supposed to be a “major opportunity,” according to Brent.

  Some didn’t pay me any mind, but others clearly hated me at first glance. I sat down on the long L shaped couch and tried to hide at the end. Whatever this was, I needed to know, and fast.

  Waiters zoomed in and out of the room to refill glasses and hand out appetizers. I feared drawing attention to myself. My stomach knotted in hunger. These women were much skinnier than me, better dressed than me, and from what I could gather, better informed.

  There was only one other black girl there, and she looked like a supermodel. Like black Barbie.

  Brent wouldn’t tell me what this was about, but I didn’t think it would be anything I enjoyed from the look of these girls. There was one girl, in the finest, most eye catching jewelry, who stood leagues above everyone else in refinement. But even the others, who weren’t as properly dressed, had exquisite, beautiful faces like the movie stars of old, all converged on one meeting spot in their prime.

  Brent took center stage. Hands placed flat and awkwardly on his thighs, he peered out to the front door. Whatever he waited on wasn't coming.

  “I hoped that I wouldn't be the one to fill you all in, but it seems that's what I must do. Lucas had informed me that he wishes to tell you the details of what will go on for the next couple weeks. Or months. Maybe a year, depending on how long this goes. Who knows?”

  If it was a year, they better pay a salary.

  I was starving from the long drive. I succumbed, waving a waiter over. He jumped from formation and hailed me with a tray of tiny cakes. After I took one, I looked around, seeing everyone glancing my way without a drop of food in their hands.

  I slowly pushed it past my lips and took a bite, chewing quietly.

  Fuck it, this food was delicious.

  Brent continued through my interruption as if nothing happened. Good man. “I believe most of you are filled in,” Brent said, zoning in on me when he said most. It seemed I was the only one out of the loop.

  “So let me fill you in on the specifics. The LWM Company is looking for someone who can handle one of the most eligible bachelors in the world, the elusive and enigmatic, Lucas Moore, billionaire and current sole heir to the LWM Company. This is a tremendous opportunity for you all.”

  Handle? Like babysit? I rustled.

  “The challenge will go on for three weeks. If at the end of three weeks, no eligible wife is chosen, it will continue. We will continue until Lucas has found an eligible wife, one who is able to be the right wife, mother, and contributor to the LWM legacy.”

  I waited for the punch line. None came. The ladies all eyed each other up like wild dogs fighting over scraps.

  Brent continued, but it all went fuzzy. Anger and disappointment flooded my senses. It all came crashing down, like it usually did.

  “I must ask that you all act like the respectable ladies that you are, which means this is a competition. Shady tactics will get you nowhere. Lucas is an honorable man. He can see right through schemes. If anyone is treating any other girl with disrespect, or is doing anything to game the system, Lucas and I will find out and you will be thrown out. You won’t have a chance at being one of Lucas' eligible wives.”

  After hearing, “eligible wives,” I almost picked up one of the waiter’s plates and put Brent out of his misery. It would be for his own good.

  What happened to the jolly drunk I met in Bermuda? He'd become a billionaire’s pawn.

  Hell, I wasn't going to be one, either. The thought made me sick. I needed to leave in a hurry.

  As soon as I left the room, I heard Brent's droning stop, but he picked up once again.

  “One is out the door already,” I heard a girl remark, followed by catty laughter.

  Good riddance, you catty bitches. I headed down the hallway, in a daze, my feet seemingly carrying me there without any effort on my part. I was too out of it. Too sickened. My only thought was escape.

  Taking a right, the hal
lway took another turn, which meant I circled back toward the main room. I feared that I would once again meet them, where I would have to explain why I thought the whole idea revolting. I knew I would speak up. Brent wouldn't appreciate it.

  Voices boomed in a long dining area with curved entrances, a natural harmonic chamber. A man, staring at the ocean, leaned against the wall. He listened absentmindedly, but his eyes darted from the beautiful shoreline as soon as I appeared.

  Pool boy? That's what I thought at first. He seemed too fit, too normal to be the owner of the house. Too old for the pool boy, however. He only wore a muscle hugging, thin, white t-shirt, able to catch the breeze easily. He wore khakis and a thick, black belt. His hair was golden, in far contrast to his pale, otherworldly eyes. The afternoon sun shimmered over those pale eyes again, revealing a ring of molten gold around his pupils. This was the guy every heartbroken girl was ever warned about.

  He tipped his glass back and wet his lips with water. I watched him chug it. Stopped in my tracks, I shook myself out of it and grabbed my folder left on the table.

  As soon as I placed it against my chest, readying my escape, he asked me, “Going somewhere?”

  “Leaving,” I said as I turned, figuring that would be enough.

  It wasn't. It wasn't nearly enough.

  He gave me a wolfish, wide grin, which told me that this wouldn’t be easy.

  Another egomaniac that needed to be taken down a peg.

  This man was now my target.

  Lucas

  She was beautiful. Smooth, black skin, her eyes pools of amber, a curvy body that made me primal. Sure, she made my cock all tingly and happy, but that wasn't all. She interested me, not only in my usual need-to-dominate way, but because there was something deeper. Something I couldn't put my finger on.

  This girl was special. There was no doubt about that. She couldn’t leave. Not yet.

  If she thought this was bullshit, she was instantly interesting anyway.

  Brent could go on forever. I was regretting ever agreeing to do this stupid scheme. Perhaps it would be better to simply hand over all the rights to the company before going through with it, but I felt trapped. There was no other option but to succeed.