The F*ck Book: A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance Page 2

  The deal was sealed. Slinging my jacket over one shoulder, I strode out of the sky box to the private elevator. Anyone watching would have seen a tall man, cool and composed, blue eyes intent.

  But a plan was already hatching in my head. This was going to be a tough one, but not impossible. Nothing’s impossible. Like I said, I’ve got billions of dollars and unlimited resources at my fingertips. As CEO of a huge conglomerate, thousands of employees scramble at my every command. So this couldn’t be too hard, right? All I had to do was get lucky … with one very fortunate girl.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Mason

  My assistant, Gregory, sat in the chair across from my desk in a carefully pressed, gray pinstripe suit.

  “The buyout went off without a hitch, and just like you predicted, they came back willing to pay about five million more. With the added buy back and the swing from the ESOP account, that puts us ahead by about ten point six.”

  He checked something off on the tablet balanced on his knee before looking up at me. “As directed sir, we’ve accepted the offer.”

  Damn, Gregory was like a robot sometimes, more machine than human. But at least he was efficient.

  I leaned back in my chair, steepling my fingers.

  “Good work,” were my cool words. “I knew they’d cave.”

  Gregory beamed at the praise, sitting up straight, his hair carefully parted. But hell. The kid was young but not that young anymore. What was he? Thirty? Thirty-one? And the fact is, Gregory could probably run my company on his own now. He was a fast learner from the wrong side of town, with balls of steel beneath that carefully polished exterior.

  My assistant briefed me on a few other things but nothing really stayed. Like I mentioned, this kid can run the holdings on his own now, I’m practically just decoration.

  So I sat up, tossing my pen onto the desk surface. It clattered, Gregory’s head jerking up in surprise at the noise.

  “Sounds great,” I said dismissively. “Anything else?”

  The boy looked stunned. I don’t pretend to be interested, but most times I at least sit through the briefing. But not today. Today, there were more important matters at hand.

  “Nothing urgent,” he replied slowly. “Pending projects are in the email from this morning and I’ve already taken care of the, ahem, young lady.”

  Christ.

  Shit, her.

  A woman I met at a charity auction a couple months back suddenly thought she was my girlfriend. I’d told her from the beginning that it was only fucking. It’s not that I don’t do relationships. I do. She’s just not the right girl with that whiny pout and bony frame. Not even close.

  But the woman wouldn’t accept the “physical only” limitation, so I put Gregory on it. I told him to take care of it and to keep the details to himself.

  Nodding, I stood.

  “Great work. As long as nobody is dead or in jail, then I’m a happy man,” was my offhand remark. Mostly anyways.

  “Of course, sir.”

  “Perfect. Anything else?”

  The tone of my voice told him our meeting was over and Greg was smart enough to get it in one.

  “No Mr. Carlton. We’re all good.”

  “Excellent. I’m leaving for an early lunch but text or call if you need something.”

  “Of course.”

  The younger man nodded once more and left, closing the door behind him.

  Alone in my office again, I stood at the floor to ceiling glass windows and looked down at the bustling streets of lower Manhattan. Man, this place is always amazing. Tiny yellow cabs whizzed by, competing with privately-driven Ubers. The Freedom Tower soared off in the distance, and if I squinted, there was even the Statue of Liberty, in her misty blue-grey splendor. This is an amazing place, captains of industry thrown onto one tiny island.

  And yet I couldn’t stop thinking about the only real challenge in my life right now.

  Finding a virgin.

  A real live, untouched virgin.

  How the hell was I going to locate one?

  After the meeting of the Players Club, I showed up at the office energized. Before the sun even rose, I was at my desk and searching the internet, looking through books online that promised in “two easy steps” the secret to landing a sweet, untouched female.

  My blood flamed at the thought of finding something so rare. Some dudes want a komodo dragon. Some want their own G-6.

  But I want a virgin. My own.

  A legal one too.

  Skimming through the web revealed nothing. There isn’t exactly an on-line guide for snagging this kind of shit, no matter what they say. And some of this stuff was in no way legit. I wasn’t going to the Philippines for a “tour” with a guy who looked like Crocodile Dundee on drugs. So after about two hours of pointless clicking, I gave up.

  Damn.

  What now?

  Was I stuck? So soon?

  From the corner of my eye, a diamond gleamed. Ah, my Mont Blanc. It had rolled to the window and lay there next to a small card. The card was made of thin blue plastic, just about transparent. A library card. Huh. Probably belonged to Gregory or any number of people who worked for me, forgetting all sorts of shit when they came to my office.

  Suddenly, my head jerked up. Of course. A library. I’d gone high tech searching online for a virgin but really, old school was the answer. I should have taken my ass to the library downstairs first thing. Aw, fuck. Like most of my employees, I’d forgotten we had an actual library in the building, one with real books. Maybe researching the old-fashioned way would get me closer to the goal.

  I tossed the pen back on my desk and headed out, long strides eating up the journey to the elevator.

  Because years ago, I’d built the library after a conversation with my mom. She’d loved these places as a kid and talked a lot about finding peace there when things turned to shit at her house. Her parents had been a nightmare. I didn’t even call them Grandma and Grandpa.

  So having a library at Carlton Corp. was a tribute to Rhonda. Maybe I didn’t go down to Florida very often to visit, but there was a little piece of my mom here, with me every day. Sentimental right?

  Pressing the button, I waited impatiently as the lights dinged from one floor to another. Goddamn, high speed just isn’t high speed these days. Nothing ever moves fast enough, time is money folks.

  But once the doors whooshed open, it was like stepping into a different world. No more corporate speak, drones moving around in grey suits. No more the dull buzz of computers, the flicker of artificial light making everyone look ghoulish.

  Instead, golden light filtered through high, glass-paned windows, dust mites sparkling in the air. There were dozens of gleaming wooden shelves stacked high with books of every size, shape and color. Old-fashioned rolling ladders reached up to the heavens, adding to the sanctuary-like feel of the place.

  I took a deep breath.

  Because Ma was right. Libraries were peaceful. Or at least this one was. I felt proud then, of creating this space for learning and reflection. It was just too bad I wasn’t here more often.

  Inhaling once more, I filled my lungs and then turned to find a librarian. And frankly, it took me a while. The place didn’t seem that big from the elevator but every row of long shelves was part of a maze. I wandered around for a few minutes, breathing in the tranquility before ending up in front of a wide mahogany desk.

  With a treasure behind it.

  Because the girl there was gorgeous, with an angelic face and curly brown hair. A boring brown blouse couldn’t hide big, luscious tits that wobbled and jiggled. Those pink lips were slightly open as she read a book, caramel eyes wide. Shit, what was that volume? What was making those eyes scan right and left avidly, soaking up the words?

  I cleared my throat, and the girl jumped. Startled, she snapped her novel shut and leapt to her feet, blushing wildly.

  “Hi- hi,” she stammered. “Can I help you?”

  The mud brown blous
e was pretty laughable and the knee-length skirt of the same sad color even worse. But that body underneath was thick and luscious – big tits, wide hips, and an ass that could make a grown man cry.

  I tried to be subtle about my sudden interest, but it was hard. Real hard, literally and figuratively.

  “Yeah, I need help,” came my low rumble. “I’m looking for a book about virgins.”

  The brunette blushed even more and damn if my dick didn’t try to bust out of my pants. Down boy, I muttered silently. No need to go about scaring innocent librarians who’ve probably never been with a man.

  “Of course sir, I’d be happy to assist,” she stammered, and immediately sat down to scroll through something on her computer. While paging through nervously, the brunette bit into her bottom lip, making it dark and wet. Oh shit, oh shit. I was in big trouble.

  Eventually, my curvy girl found what she was looking for. Still blushing, she pushed the chair aside and stood up.

  “I’ve found a few things. If you could follow me, please.”

  Raising an eyebrow, I nodded for her to go on ahead.

  “Lead the way, sweetheart,” was my growl. “I’m right behind you.”

  Of course, it was probably violating all sorts of ethics rules to call her sweetheart on company property. But still, I’m the boss. So sue me.

  And gracefully, she got up and began purposefully striding through the stacks. Or as purposefully as someone can when they’re round and luscious like a goddess. Because shit, those tits and hips swayed. I stared like a madman while her back was turned.

  Then something suddenly occurred to me, making my mind spin.

  Was she a virgin?

  No shit.

  Holy smokes.

  Right here, under my own roof?

  I had to find out.

  At the end of an aisle, the gorgeous librarian stopped and turned to me. Her cheeks were enticingly red, breasts heaving a bit from the exertion.

  “Here’s some material that might be useful.” She pointed to some books that had pictures of plump babies and women with haloes on them. After a look at the titles, I realized she’d misunderstood me in a big way. One of the books, The Passion of the Virgin Mary, clued me in on that real quick.

  But why was she blushing?

  There’s nothing embarrassing about the Virgin Mary.

  It could only be one thing.

  I’d gotten to her.

  Of course, why not? I’m an alpha male, a good looking motherfucker worth billions. And this little thing was here all by herself, every day for hours, reading books while dreaming about a real man. So to see me in the flesh was probably a jolt to the system, Red Bull and Five Hour Energy mixed in one.

  Please let this librarian be a virgin, was my prayer. If she is, I’ll donate to the next church I see. I swear.

  “Sir, is this okay?”

  With the question, I jolted. Oh shit, I must have been staring at her without saying a word. To make up for being a strange asshole, I randomly picked up one of the books off the shelf.

  “This should be great, thanks.”

  “Oh good. Glad I could help.”

  “You did, very much.” I fingered the spine of the book and looked her over again. My pole twitched once more. I could feel it drooling and rock hard in my pants. “What’s your name? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch it the first time.”

  Her brown eyes sparkled then.

  “That’s because you didn’t ask,” she said archly. Was she flirting with me? But then a real smile broke out. “My name’s Elizabeth but everyone calls me Beth.”

  Beth. How beautiful. Simple yet elegant, holy and dirty at once. Wasn’t there a Saint Elizabeth who gave birth to Jesus’s cousin?

  “Pleasure meeting you, Beth.” I let my tongue linger on her name. “Thanks again for your assistance.”

  “Happy to help,” she said with another shy smile. “Let me know if you need anything else,” she murmured before returning to her desk.

  I watched that departure every step of the way. My gaze was hot, and like she could feel it, the girl paused slightly to glance over her shoulder.

  Oh god.

  The sweetness in that gaze was overwhelming, pure innocence shining like a ray of sunshine.

  The only problem was that I didn’t deserve that innocence. I don’t deserve goodness, peace or tranquility. I’m a dark motherfucker, one who takes what he wants, no questions, no compromises ever. I come, I see, I conquer … and Beth was going to be mine.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Beth

  I flicked on the light by the door of my apartment, breathing hard.

  Damnit. Must be the bulb. I should call my super.

  But that would mean going back down five stories of stairs.

  Noooo!

  Because my fifth floor walk-up is bad. It’s fifty steps up and down every time I take out the trash, or do laundry in the basement. Every time I want to pop outside for a snack, or just drop by the drugstore, there was all that up and down.

  Uck.

  Some people would love it, scampering up the steps, arguing for the benefits of exercise.

  Not me.

  I’m a curvy girl, and while I like to stay in shape, it’s more about taking a stroll around the neighborhood or walking my neighbor’s dog Floofy. The thought of getting on an elliptical trainer or exercise bike filled me with dread. What do people think about when they’re on those things? Do they feel like rats, scampering endlessly in a cage? Uck.

  But here I was now, with no light.

  And going back downstairs was out of the question.

  Darn it. The bulb had flickered last night, but hung on by a thread. On my way to work, I tried to remind myself to go to the store for a new one, but it’d completely slipped my mind. It was the tall and handsome stranger who’d come in the library looking for books. He’d distracted me, it was his fault.

  I blushed at the thought of the commanding man, glad for the darkness although nobody was there in my little apartment to see my red face.

  Feeling around blindly, the keys jingled when I dropped them on the bookshelf. Slowly, slowly. Carefully, my hip bumped a piece of furniture, probably my gram’s rocking chair. And finally, I was in the kitchen. At least the kitchen light worked fine, and the bright halogen glare flickered on, making me squint.

  Uck, everything was green.

  At least that’s what it looked like in the flouresence, shadows dancing on the walls.

  But I sighed. It’s just a byproduct of apartment living. We don’t have much natural sun, so everything takes on the greyish-green hospital tinge at all hours.

  But at least the kitchen was clean and neat, just like I left it this morning. My stomach rumbled with hunger and I poked it ruefully. Be quiet, came my admonition. It was going to be ramen tonight. Again.

  Although I already knew it was empty, I opened the fridge. Maybe I should pray for a miracle like the Virgin Mary’s baby. Or for the tall stranger at work to notice me again.

  But it was going too far. That guy was so out of my league, and even if he wasn’t, there was no way I’d mess up my perfect job by trying to date someone who worked at Carlton Corporation. Where else could I work and be around books all the time, with barely anybody bothering me?

  No place, that’s where.

  So yeah, I’ve got to count my blessings.

  Because not only was the job perfect for a bookworm like me but as a part-time gig, I was able to keep going to the community college not far from my apartment. One day, if things went the way I planned, I’d go to a regular college and major in English. My dream is to graduate with a mortar board on my head, and a treasured piece of paper in my hand.

  Besides, there was something about going to work every day in that big and beautiful library that made my dreams feel even closer. Maybe it was because the CEO of Carlton Corp. was a self-made billionaire who’d started from nothing and climbed his way all the way to the top. Maybe some of that would rub off
on me.

  Maybe.

  I laughed aloud at the thought of someone as big league as Mason Carlton being an inspiration for my tiny dream.

  Yeah, right.

  He was a king, riding in a chariot in the clouds.

  By contrast, I was a mouse, tucked in between the aisles, swept beneath the rug.

  So with a sigh, I turned back to my dinner. After making myself some ramen—doctored up with sliced carrots and a shredded chicken breast—I sat at my rickety kitchen table and like every day after work, dissected my hours at the library.

  First, I couldn’t believe I didn’t hear the stranger when he walked in. Barely anybody ever came into the library, so any sound should have set off my alarms. But I didn’t hear anything until HE was standing in front of me.

  The man looked like a romance novel hero come to life with his broad shoulders and gorgeous mien. Those cool, blue eyes were like ice cutting straight into my soul, butterflies hovering in my stomach. Okay, not just hovering, full on flapping their wings, making me go hot and cold at once.

  “How can I help you?” came my awkward squawk. My eyes probably looked googly and big behind the horn-rimmed glasses, white-knuckled fingers clutching my book.

  Thank god the cover only had a picture of a flower on the front and not of the hot and sexy things inside. Because I read romance. A lot of it. A lot of books with pictures of Fabio on the front, blonde hair blowing in the wind. So thank goodness, this wasn’t one of those novels.

  But the man knew all the same.

  It was like he had x-ray vision and could see right through the flower on the cover to the words on the page, where the hero and heroine exchanged kisses, and then … you know. X-rated stuff. Triple X-rated in fact, NC-17 stuff that would make your mother blush.

  Because the corner of his lip quirked slightly, oh so attractive.

  And from that slight move of his sculpted lips, my mind went crazy. In the book, the naive young heiress was finally about to make love with the corporate raider who’d taken her parents’ company and now threatened her own wealth. And I’d just gotten to a juicy scene. A super juicy scene if you know what I mean, involving steely manhoods and his lips on her ….