Bad Boy Billionaires

Book I - 1

SCARLET

When my mother told me she was getting married, I couldn't have been more ecstatic. Her fiancé, my stepdad-to-be, was a billionaire widower who could give her the world and worship her.

However, as time went on, I felt something was missing. It was as if I was alone.

Here I was, sitting in a corner on their wedding day, surrounded by strangers, watching my mother and her new husband share their first dance.

She was happy, and she deserved it. My father left us with nothing but his DNA, and we’d heard nothing about him since. Mom deserved happiness with someone who’d cherish her for the rest of her life. I was genuinely happy for her.

But why wasn’t I happy for myself?

I’d hoped my life would change, that I’d finally have a new family, but I was wrong.

My stepbrother didn’t seem to like me at all.

His name was Lucas Alejandro—the only son of Thomas Alejandro, the billionaire owner of Alejandro Technologies.

Luke was eight years older than me, and I thought maybe the age gap was why we struggled to get along. When Mom introduced me to him before the wedding, he ignored me as if I were invisible.

I spotted him now—my twenty-six-year-old stepbrother—sitting alone by the bar. I had to admit, he was probably the sexiest man I’d ever laid eyes on.

Dark hair, compelling gray eyes, looking very formal and regal in his blue bespoke suit, pristine white shirt, and silver tie. He’d been his father’s best man today. Now, he held a glass of whatever liquor that was in his hand.

Maybe I should talk to him?

We were family now, right? Even though I knew I wouldn’t live with them because I was flying out to Harvard tomorrow.

My heart almost jumped out of my chest when his gaze shifted to me, catching my eyes. I felt suddenly warm inside, but my skin felt incredibly cold. I was confused by it.

I tried to smile back. Luke was unsmiling but holding my gaze—then he sipped his liquor.

My cheeks heated, but then a blonde woman approached him, diverting his attention.

I glanced at the woman; she was definitely closer to Luke’s age. Tall, stunning, mature, and really sexy. Was she his girlfriend? Was that the kind of woman he liked?

Wait, why did I care? I wasn’t supposed to think like this about my stepbrother.

God, why was I disappointed? Was I having a crush on him now?

I shook my head. No. I wouldn’t see him at all for the next few years. After all, his father was sending me to Harvard and would support my education there. What more could I ask for?

Six years later…

Ericka (Me): I’m always lonely. I’ve never been happy. How about you? Ever felt that way before?

Jax: Am I supposed to answer that?

Ericka (Me): Don’t bother. By the way, what happened with your date last week?

Jax: Forget about my date. She’s a liar, and if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s f*****g liars.

Ericka (Me): Maybe you should try to understand that they might have their reasons.

Jax and I had been chatting for a few months now. It also had been several months since I joined the social media app PRO EXPRESS CHAT: ANONYMOUS CHAT EXCLUSIVE FOR HARVARD ALUMNI.

Of course, I wasn’t an alumnus yet. I was graduating this year.

I got access to the chat app when Mom came by my apartment, and I borrowed her computer. She’d logged into her email, which I accidentally opened later, and saw the invitation to create an account.

I then met Jax, an IT professional and Harvard alumnus who knew a great deal about the programming I needed for my thesis. I lied to him about my college project being my ‘job.’

Contrary to my purpose of being on the app, Jax was only there to find relief when he was horny and women he could f**k with every week. It was purely a pleasure for him.

I lied to Jax about many things, but I couldn’t seem to let him go despite never having seen him in person.

He was fun to talk to. The late-night phone calls were getting hot and sexy. He knew exactly how to make me too damned wet. The sound of his voice was delicious enough to make me o****m. I imagined Jax as a very, very attractive man.

How much more would he affect me if I saw him?

I lay on my bed, grabbed my phone from the bedside table, signed in to the app, and composed a message for Jax.

Subject: Two weeks busy

I’ve been thinking. How do you do it? I mean, how do you date that many women? Do you still dine at a restaurant before you go to the hotel? Are you the kind of guy who buys gifts?

Ericka

I bit my lip and thought about what he would respond to. A notification popped up. Damn it, Jax. You’re only interested in one kind of message.

Subject: Re: Two weeks busy

I don’t date. What the hell are those questions? Do you want me to book a few reservations for us?

Jax

Subject: Re: Re: Two weeks busy

I thought you said it was only for one night.

Ericka

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Two weeks busy

If it were you, I could make an exception.

Jax

I laughed. Damn, that was crazy. I reread his message many times but couldn’t get over what he said. Really? Was he going to make an exception? For me? I was still amused that I couldn’t think of what to reply to, but his name appeared on my phone screen. I answered the call right away.

“Jax,” I breathed. “I asked you because I was curious—nothing else.” I bit my lip. “What do you look like?”

“If you want to know what I look like, let me see you.”

I gasped quietly, my mouth getting dry. “I’m busy. But seriously, a brief description won’t hurt.”

“I look like a man who wants my face between your legs. How about you?”

I gasped, feeling my clit throbbed. “Stop it, Jax! Could you just please check your inbox?” I asked, diverting the subject.

LUKE

Cambridge was nothing more than the place my father wanted me to spend the next three months of my life.

It was where I’d lost everything that shined brightly before my eyes and where compassion was shredded from me. But to deal with everything again, I should at least enjoy myself in every possible way.

Last week, I’d booked a suite at the Ritz Carlton, where I was leaning on the bed, entangling my fingers in the hair of a woman devouring my shaft.

She was teasingly sliding her tongue around my tip. “Mm… you’re perfect.”

I groaned. I pushed her head down as she pressed her lips to cover my entire length. Over the past three hours, I’d bent her over the table and f****d her relentlessly.

It was satisfying, but I’d have to find someone else within the next few days.

She took me in her mouth again. The pleasure was building up in me; my legs stiffened, and my body was telling me to let go. I slightly pushed her head to move her away, but she didn’t move. She went down deeper and sucked me harder. I scowled and tried to pull her off again, but it was too late. Thick spurts of my c**k exploded into her mouth.

She looked at me hungrily as she swallowed every last drop. When she was finally moving away, I sprang up and zipped my pants.

“Shall we have dinner and then go on with a few rounds?”

I raised an eyebrow, confused. “I told you I never f****d a woman twice, but I did agree to s*x that’ll make you forget every man who’d ever had your pussy.”

That was how exactly women wanted it to start. A senseless conversation, some s*x, and at the end of the day, she would begin to think there was something more. I was done with that.

“Can’t you consider it since we’ve been talking for a few days? Exam week is coming, and I have no time to chat with you.”

Right, yes. I met her on an online dating site. Her profile said she was a university professor.

“No, thanks.”

“Hmm, why don’t we just tell each other something real? My real name’s Chloe, not Anna. I’m not a professor but an undergraduate from Boston University. I’m not really from Harvard. I drove several hours just to meet you, and I don’t give my real info to strangers.” She smiled sheepishly as if her lies were something to brag about.

“What, you just screw with people, is that it?” I shook my head in disbelief. The fact that she lied about her name and school was a major turn-off. “Are you going to stay here, or do you have another date to screw tonight?”

“How dare you?” She scowled at me, her voice rising.

“Is there something wrong with my question?”

“Wow...” She shook her head. “Someday, you’ll regret doing this.”

“Regret doing what?”

“This. Wasting a woman’s time, trying to look interested, f**k her, and then moving on to the next.”

“I never gave false hopes.”

“One day, you’ll get a taste of your own medicine," she continued. "One day, a woman will come along and make you feel something real, and she'll crush you."

"Chloe, or whatever your name is, I don’t give a f**k what you think about my future.”

***

Years ago, Harvard was my favorite place. It was where I dreamt, hoped, fell in love, and spent days with the people I trusted. I created my own world with the people I loved, but all of it ended up a broken dream when I discovered the person I loved the most was f*****g another man.

I wasn’t a dramatic kind of person—well, I was. I was sentimental, compassionate, and considerate—which I now despised about myself. Fortunately, I was able to regain half of myself when Dad remarried. My stepmother, Gene, was a bit unapproachable at first, but she showed me how much she cared for my dad and not about his status.

To end this f*****g overview of my life, I liked the person I’d become. At least no one would dare get inside me again, see through me, and break my trust.

I’d been looking online for a woman to f**k since last year. I found it entertaining and interesting, knowing that I could choose whoever I wanted to screw without attachments. I never trusted a woman online—all I wanted was their p***y.

I deleted the other uninteresting messages, especially fake profiles. Then, I opened the message Ericka was talking about. For some compelling reason, she was the only woman I kept in my inbox.

She was twenty-eight, a Harvard graduate, working in an IT company in Cambridge. We’d been sending senseless emails for three months. She was fun to talk to, and she was sexy as f**k when she started the dirty talk.

Subject: I need help

I’m supposed to finish my new Esri’s ArcGIS API-based project, but I’ve hardly started. Any advice?

Ericka

Subject: Re: I need help

I forgot to mention earlier that I’m in Cambridge right now, just a few minutes away from you. Maybe this is the right time to finally show up and give you advice in person. You’ve been teasing me for three months with your smart mouth.

Now, will you tell me where you are so we can talk face-to-face?

Jax

Subject: Re: Re: I need help

Well, Jax, I already told you that I’m sharing a room with someone. There’s no chance we could meet. However, even if I’m alone, I don’t plan on revealing my face. It’s against my rules. I never met a man from online.

Ericka

Damn it. I tossed the phone on the bed. We met through Pro-Express Chat, a simple social networking application that allowed users to chat anonymously. There are no profile pictures, feeds, comment boxes, or even blogs. There was just an inbox and a few details, such as name, age, gender, relationship status, and occupation.

Every user must be a professional and a graduate of Harvard. Additionally, you must be invited by the admins to be able to register. Either you were a doctor, professor, architect, artist, or CEO (like me). I never wanted to try the app, but since I don’t mix any of my personal s**t anymore, only interested in hard s*x, I gave it a try.

The app was intended for professional chat only, but I say screw the rules. My one protocol was to get their personal number so I could call them, so I went back to my contacts and called Ericka again.

“Why don’t you just give me your address and your real name? I’m tired of just talking to you over the phone.”

She laughed deliciously. I just liked hearing her voice. “We’ll never meet. It’s impossible.”

“I don’t care about your excuses. Would you like to know my address and my name? I just moved in.”

“I don’t know why you’re in Cambridge right now, but I’m not interested. I can’t lose a friend when all you ever want is a one-night stand. You’re going to throw me away, just like the others.”

“I’m very sure that it won’t be just one night for us,” I admitted. “I can make an exception since you’ve earned my trust.”

“Oh, really? This should be good.”

“Yes, so what is it? Tell me. I’ll be willing to come and get you.”

“I don’t think so. Hey, I need to go, Jax.”

“Wait! Okay. I’m giving you a week. If you really don’t want to meet up, I’m done talking with you.”

She chuckled. “I’m sure you won’t do that.”

“I am sure that I would.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you like the sound of my voice.”

Yes, I did like the sounds she made whenever she was begging me to make her come on the phone. She could make me hard just by listening to her voice alone.

“I’m pretty sure I like the sound of you moaning.” I sighed. “Look, I can’t continue our friendship like this. I need to see you. One week, Ericka.”

“I can’t. I’m going to New York to see my parents this week. Did you forget? It’s been a long time since I last saw my mom.”

“That’s good then. I’ll put New York on my schedule this week, and then I’ll meet you. I’ll take you to New York.”

Silence.

“Ericka?”

“What? I don’t know. I can’t promise.”

“Listen to me very carefully. I’m very good at tracking people. I could find anyone in a blink, and the only reason I’m not doing it yet is because I respect that you’re not ready. But this isn’t going anywhere. I need to be buried inside you. I would like to hear you scream my name, my real name, and devour every inch of you. If you don’t say yes, I’m going to find you.”

I heard her breath skip. “Don’t you think that’s illegal?”

“I will take the risk.”

“Jax,” she called. “Okay, but not this week. Give me two weeks. Please? This week is a bad time.”

“Done. Fourteen days and you will tell me your address. Fourteen f*****g days, Ericka, or we’re done.”

“Okay! Okay! Stop intimidating me.”

“Good. That’s good, then, Ericka. Good night.”