The Billionaire's Beginning: A Billionaire Romance

by M. Never

  “Ty.” Simone grabs my wrists and breaks the kiss, her breathing labored.

  I exhale heavily. “I may not survive this night if you don't agree to come home with me.”

  “That’s not going to happen.” She shakes her head, licking her wet lips.

  “I know you want to. I know you want to be with me,” I push.

  “What I want is irrelevant. It's what I'm capable of that matters.”

  “What are you capable of?” I question, dying to know.

  “Not much. This. This is about my threshold.” We continue to sway to the music.

  I search her eyes. “What’s holding you back?”

  “Way too many things. Don't waste your time with me, Ty. End it here,” she pleads.

  “I can’t. This feels right, and I know you know that, too.”

  The look on her stunning face is heartbreaking. Before I can argue, a man’s voice is broadcasting over the speakers.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, if you’ll take your seats, the first course is about to be served.”

  Simone actually breathes a sigh of relief while I'm left reeling.

  “I'm supposed to sit with my aunt and uncle,” she breaks the news.

  “I'm supposed to sit with my father. But dinner is only a short part of the evening. Once it's over, you’re all mine again.”

  The look on her face. It expresses so much without her having to utter a word. So much conflict and insecurity mixed with fight and desire. I run my thumb along her cheekbone before she walks away.

  Fuck me. Simone Travers has become my drug of choice. Completely detrimental to my health, but an addiction I refuse to give up.

  Before heading to my seat, I make a pit stop in the bathroom. My cock is hard, my palms are sweaty, and my head is light from getting high off Simone.

  I do my business, wash my hands, then splash some cold water on my face to cool my jets. I’m in overdrive, and the night has barely begun.

  As I lift my head and lean on the sink, I find a surprise glaring behind me through the mirror.

  “Joseph.” I reach for a paper towel casually, even though my heart rate is picking up speed. The older man replies by clenching his jaw. “Cat got your tongue?” I fuck with him. If he thinks he’s going to intimidate me, he can think again.

  “What the fuck are you doing with Simone?” he all but bites my head off.

  “We were dancing,” I state the obvious.

  “You were doing a hell of a lot more than dancing,” he accuses, overprotectively.

  I blot my face with the cheap, scratchy paper towel before balling it up and tossing it in the garbage.

  “She’s a very attractive woman. I like spending time with her.” I turn to look directly at him.

  “That girl is way more than a pretty face, Ty. She has walked through hell and back. She doesn't need some cocky bastard who's only interested in one thing messing with her life.” He pokes me in the chest. The audacity. I haven't spoken to this man in years, and here he is trying to tell me what to do like I'm still a child.

  "And what one thing is that?” I ask arrogantly. “Making obscene amounts of money? I don't understand how that's going to mess with her life. The way I see it, it will only make it better." I try to slip by him, but he snags my arm.

  “I mean it, Ty. Stay away from her. She's been through enough. She doesn't need an entitled heir fucking with her head.”

  “I'm not fucking with anything,” I hiss. “Simone is a grown woman. She can decide whom she wants to spend time with. And she’s choosing to spend time with me. Get over yourself.” I push him out of the way. Anger burning in his gray, cloudy eyes like flames in a brick oven.

  Shaking off the encounter, I head to my table where my father is already sitting, flirting with an attractive woman half his age. The silver fox has not changed. Besides being a ruthless businessman, his womanizing ways precede him. And of course, being his son, I am a womanizer by association.

  I'm not saying the apple fell far from the tree; I'm just as ferocious when it comes to business dealings as my father and have had my fair share of women. But I'm hoping to avoid the three wives, seven mistresses route. I’d like to get married. But just once. And I want it to stick. I want the real deal. One life, one love kind of deal.

  My butt barely hits the seat before my father is chewing me a new asshole.

  “What the fuck was that shit on the dance floor about?” His mannerisms are relaxed and his facial expression cordial, but his tone ripping through my ear is hostile.

  “I was dancing. What did it look like?” I steal a sip of water from my pre-set glass.

  “It looked like you were doing a hell of a lot more than dancing with Alfonzo Travers’ daughter.”

  “Have you always known about her?” I question, dodging his irritated accusation.

  “Of course,” he confirms. “I know everything about my competitors and former business partners. That's how I keep my edge. It's no secret.”

  “Your reputation for being a pit bull is legendary,” I agree.

  “If you want to follow in my footsteps, I suggest you adopt the same attitude and stay the hell away from the Travers girl. That’s one hot hole you don't want to explore.”

  “And why is that?” I poke, knowing I'm about to open a big ol’ can of worms.

  My father straightens in his seat. He’s serious now.

  “Ty, our history with the Travers is tumultuous. Don't go backwards. Find somewhere else to dip your stick. Hear me?”

  I answer my father with a silent look. After a beat, I scan the room until I find the only thing I care about. Simone Travers. She shifts when she feels my eyes on her. Peeking over her bare shoulder, she secretly sends me a smile.

  Every appendage attached to my body throbs.

  No one, not my father, or Joseph, or the Lord Almighty Himself is going to keep me away from what I want. Simone is mine, even if she doesn't realize it yet. This connection we have is about so much more than just me dipping my stick. Something my father knows about all too well. When it comes to women, it's all he knows. But I want more. And heaven have mercy, I want it with Simone fucking Travers.

  5

  Simone

  I was supposed to go back to North Carolina three days ago, but I'm still here. Still on the East Coast enjoying the beach and the sun and Ty Winters’ company. He convinced me to stay the night at the gala. I must have had a moment of insanity ’cause his argument won me over. My Uncle Joseph was none too happy with my decision. I can't blame him; it wasn't the wisest one. But I like the East Coast, I love the ocean, and I'm intrigued by Ty. I shouldn’t be, I know, but I am. It’s almost compulsive.

  I tell myself repeatedly to stay far, far away from him, but it's been so long since I’ve connected with a member of the opposite sex I’d forgotten what it's like to feel wanted, or to even want somebody. I'll never act on it—intimacy, physical contact, is just not possible for me. It's a hurdle I can’t jump. An ability that has been stripped from me. I try to make myself crystal clear with Ty, but he doesn't seem to buy my put-offs. He’s persistent. He knows what he wants, and it’s me. Which is sadly such a waste of his time. But he doesn't want to hear it. Because here we sit, on a blanket on the beach, watching yet another dazzling sunset paint the sky pink and turn the water a glassy blue.

  For a man with a business reputation more savage than a pit bull, he can be remarkably sweet. And generous. And attentive. Like right now. He isn't pushy or overbearing, but I know how much closer he wants to be. He’s keeping a comfortable distance; our only physical connection is our entwined fingers. The simple touch is enough to generate more heat than an inferno though. Our attraction burns bright. It's no secret, but I'm no ordinary woman. Not anymore, at least. If I was, I would have slept with Ty Winters the first night I met him. Spread my legs shamelessly the minute he propositioned me. I was drawn to the tall, beautiful, copper-haired man the moment I met him. And even if it never went any further than a one-n
ight stand, the singular experience would have been enough.

  But my past prevents me from being the woman I used to be. From pursuing relationships the way I once had. Life used to be a playground for me, but now it's just a desolate wasteland.

  “Getting hungry yet?” Ty jiggles my hand.

  “Starved. I can’t remember the last time I ate today.”

  “Then let’s go rectify that.” He stands and drags me with him. The force sends me flying into his arms and places us in a compromising position.

  My breath catches as he locks my body airtight against his. There’s a moment of desperation on my part then just nothing. No worry or reservations or stress as his lips descend onto mine. My thoughts evaporate every time we embrace. I never thought I would be able to get lost in a man again, but Ty has broken the barrier, and it scares the shit out of me as much as it excites me. I don't know where this can possibly go, but I'm not doing anything to stop the speeding freight train either. The kiss is drawn out, and deep, and electrifyingly passionate. I'm panting by the time he pulls away.

  Ty’s big, green eyes are smoldering with lust as he holds my face and rests his forehead against mine. He wants so much more, and so do I, but we leave the kiss where it lays. In the atmosphere, vaporizing like smoke.

  Story of my life. Everything good so easily dissipates.

  We walk hand in hand up the beach to the brand-new boardwalk. The whole oceanfront area has been redeveloped by Ty’s company. There are tons of restaurants and shops nestled on the coastline that are ecofriendly and trendy and bustling with tourists. Ty has boasted that he wants his designs as appealing for the environment as it is for the people, and he hired Shane because he is the best at bringing those two concepts together.

  I have to agree. The architecture is well thought out and aesthetically appealing. There are white arbors covered with bright, sprawling plants, the buildings are so clean they gleam, and the boardwalk is a soft plum color.

  Ty leads me past a row of storefronts until we come to the end. The restaurant we stop in front of is carved out over the beach by a wall of windows. I read the name on the blue and white striped awning: Trinity.

  “I read about this place online,” I mention as we walk through the tall glass doors.

  “Oh, yeah?” He flashes me a smile.

  “It's supposed to be amazing.”

  “It is,” he confirms. I don't think Ty dines anywhere that isn't amazing.

  I recognize a tall man with jet-black hair standing next to the hostess once we make our way inside.

  “Ty.” They greet with a clasping of hands.

  “Chase,” Ty returns.

  “We saved the best seat in the house.” Chase pats him on the shoulder as he grabs two menus.

  “Is this your restaurant?” I ask.

  “My fiancée’s, really. She runs the show. Shane and I just sort of loiter.” He laughs. It's smooth and deep and sexy as all hell. “Simone, right?” Chase glances back at me as we stroll through the restaurant. I'm in love with the décor. It's beachy yet modern with a thatched ceiling and a huge chandelier made out of stark, white fish that look like they’re swimming through the air. It's rustic but oh so classy.

  “Yes.” I smile warmly, his big, brown eyes so inviting.

  “Ty can't stop talking about you,” Chase blatantly embarrasses him.

  “Thank you for that unnecessary tidbit of information.” Ty snatches the menus from Chase’s hand then he pulls out my chair from a secluded table right next to a window. We really do have the best seats in the house.

  “You’re welcome.” Chase grins obnoxiously. I’m a fan of his already. “The waitress will be right over to take your drink orders. I'll let Jenn know you’re here. She’s going to want to impress you.” I don't miss that Chase directs the comment solely to me.

  “I look forward to it,” I respond excitedly.

  Ty seems slightly uneasy sitting across from me as he reads over the menu.

  “Why did you bring me here if it’s going to make you uncomfortable?”

  “Because as much as Jenn dislikes me, I know she’ll love you. And I want to impress you.”

  “You don't need to impress me.” I sit back and hug myself, running my hands over the soft material that clings to both my arms.

  “I want to impress you,” Ty repeats.

  “Why?”

  “Because I can. And you deserve it.”

  I drop my eyes for a fraction of a second.

  “Ty,” I sigh.

  “Simone, don't. You aren't going to scare me away. Whatever your issues are, I can handle them. Stop trying to dissuade me. It's not going to work.” He leans forward, dressed in his usual preppy attire—white, collared shirt, khaki shorts, and boat shoes—and grabs my hand.

  “You’re incorrigible,” I accuse.

  “I've been called worse.” He kisses my palm.

  “By Jenn?” I tease.

  “God, yes.” He rolls his eyes.

  In unusually good spirits, I pick up my menu and start to read it over. Everything from the cold lobster cocktail to the seafood bisque to the crab and beet salad looks to die for.

  “Sorry, that menu isn’t available tonight.” A small, blonde woman plucks the cardboard out of our hands.

  “Jenn,” Ty begins to protest, but she silences him with a raised hand.

  “Tonight, you get the chef’s menu. Is there anything you don't like or are allergic to?” she asks me.

  “I don't particularly like olives, and I'm not allergic to anything,” I willingly inform her.

  “Perfect.” Jenn claps. “It's nice to formally meet you. Simone, right?”

  “Yes, that's me.”

  “I hear Ty can’t stop talking about you.” She grins, and I mirror her expression.

  “So I’ve been told.”

  Ty groans under his breath.

  Jenn seems to enjoy his frustration immensely. Secretly, I'm finding it entertaining myself. “Drinks are on the house. . . for you. Ty pays double,” she announces before spinning on her heel and heading back toward the kitchen. Besides her hair being a little longer and her attire much less formal, Jenn is exactly how I remember her from the fight. Feisty.

  “You don't think she’ll poison your food, do you?”

  Ty shrugs. “It's a crap shoot.”

  I bite my lip. “She's really holding a grudge, huh?”

  A waitress appears with a bottle of red wine. She uncorks it and pours a little sample for each of us to taste. I nod zealously. It's delicious. Dry, crisp, and fruity. The older woman with her hair pulled up in a high bun fills our wine glasses then departs.

  “Grudge may be putting it lightly.” He exhales.

  “You’ve apologized, right?” I pick up my wine glass, eager for another sip. Dumbest question ever, I’m sure.

  “A zillion times.”

  “Maybe send her flowers?” I suggest, enjoying his exasperation.

  “Trust me, I have one-upped flowers.”

  “How so?” My question is never answered because Jenn appears with two soup bowls and a huge smile.

  “Crab and cauliflower soup.” She places my dish down first then Ty’s. “Puréed cauliflower in a light cream base with fresh crab claw chunks. I may or may not have spit in yours, Ty. Enjoy.” Jenn’s voice elevates as she skips off, and Ty stares down at his soup in utter dismay.

  “I'm sure she didn't spit in it,” I try to reassure him. I mean, I really hope she didn’t.

  “Simone, would you excuse me for a minute?” Ty tosses his napkin on the table.

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you.” He shoots out of his chair. I watch as he strides across the room to where Chase is standing, chirps in his ear, and then disappears into the kitchen. As Chase heads in my direction, a blond-haired man exits the swinging door Ty just entered and quickly catches up to Chase. I recognize him immediately as the guy I surfed against during the competition, and suddenly all the puzzle pieces fall into pl
ace. He’s Shane, Chase and Jenn’s third partner. I recall her sitting next to him at the fight, but there was so much going on I didn't commit his face to memory.

  Shane sits in Ty’s chair as Chase pulls up one of his own. They are like darkness and light, one fair-skinned and light-eyed, one tan with thick, shiny-black hair.

  They zero in on me like vultures, matching mischievous grins on their gorgeous faces. Jenn is one seriously lucky girl.

  “So, Simone? What are your intentions with our boss?” Chase begins the interrogation.

  My lips part, unsure how to answer.

  I think I'm in trouble.

  Double trouble.

  6

  Ty

  “Jenn!” I barrel into the kitchen, startling half the staff.

  Shane, who is usually hovering over Jenn as she cooks, immediately steps in front of me. “Dude, not now. I need to talk to her.” I glare past him in Jenn's direction. She doesn't look the least bit intimidated.

  “It's fine, Shane.” She throws a towel over her shoulder and walks over to us.

  “I sent Chase to keep Simone company. Can you give us a minute?” I firmly request.

  Shane glances down at Jenn, and she nods.

  “Fine. But just so you know. The woman knows how to use a knife.” I don't think that statement was so much a threat, but more a warning.

  “Noted,” I acknowledge as he walks out of the kitchen. The place is blinding from how much stainless steel has been packed into one space.

  Jenn leans on one of the prep tables crossing both her arms and legs, not a bother in the world.

  “What’s up, Ty?”

  “Jenn.” I massage my temples. “We need to put an end to this one-sided feud. I’ve had it. That girl out there” —I point— “is incredibly important to me. And minus your hostility, I am having a hell of a time getting her to open up to me. I brought her here because I thought it was a safe place. I thought if I surrounded her with good people, she would relax and hopefully start letting me in. But you constantly reminding her how much you hate me isn't helping my case. I know I fucked up in your eyes. I have apologized tirelessly. Done everything in my power to make good. I sold Chase and Shane a multi-million dollar building for a dollar because they love you and wanted to give you the restaurant of your dreams. They are two of the most important people in my life, and I want to add Simone to that short list. Can we just make amends for everyone’s sake already?”