Chapter Forty
Ethan
"Smile for the camera," someone said. I put my arm around Kayla and I stared into the lens with my best grin as she smiled radiantly beside me. The view of the ocean was behind us, with the sun starting to set on the horizon, creating a stunning background for the perfect picture.
"Perfect, thanks." The photographer looked at the image on his digital camera, and nodded with satisfaction. "This will be the new cover of Speed Magazine."
"I don't think so. I'm not the model; my wife is." I swiped at him, trying to grab the camera, but he moved just out of my reach.
Joey was one of Kayla's favorite photographers and followed her everywhere. She was as used to having her picture taken as she was breathing air, but I found it a little harder to get used to.
"That's what makes this perfect," Joey said in response to my objection. "The owner and CEO of the company Ethan Colson celebrating his one-year anniversary with the love of his life, supermodel Kayla Brandt-Colson. The two of you are one of the world's hottest couples and the media will eat it up.
“People will be clamoring to read next month's issue of Speed Magazine when they see this image of you and Kayla cheek to cheek on the cover. Now give me one more shot, this time of the two of you kissing."
"No way; our intimate personal time is private. No photography. Now get out of here before I'm forced to fire you and take your camera," I shouted out, but there was no anger in my voice, just love for my wife.
Joey was right; the public craved images of us together, and since we kept our private life well-guarded, images of us as a couple were rare, making them even more sought after. We had a contract with Joey that we would buy any photographs he took that we didn't want to go public. It kept him loyal to us and gave us control of all photos seen by the public.
"How do you deal with having your picture taking all day? It's exhausting," I said to Kayla as I leaned back into a reclining chair on the beach and a waiter brought us each fresh drinks.
"It can be, but that's why I'm careful to book plenty of relaxation time between photo shoots." She grinned at me, and her smile was even more radiant than it had been a moment ago.
Being with just one woman made her even sexier to me than a string of one-night stands. I knew Kayla's body better than anyone and could make her orgasm with just a touch. Nothing could be hotter, and as impossible as it was, I swear her breasts seemed to have gotten even bigger and her hips were definitely rounder. She was becoming softer and more voluptuous, and I wanted to make love to her constantly, and she responded to my touch with the same passionate desire. A full year into our marriage, and we were still fucking like newlyweds.
"What do you want to do for our anniversary tonight?" I asked her. "The sky's the limit."
"Well, you've already brought me here to this tropical island. We're staying in our own private bungalow right on the beach, and this morning, we made love under a waterfall in that secluded lake we found hidden in the jungle. We were serenaded by parrots and wild birds, and then served this fantastic lunch of fish caught fresh from the ocean this morning. What more could a girl want?"
"There has to be something special you want to do," I insisted. "You worked so hard last month, I only saw you a few days. You're becoming as bad of a workaholic as I used to be. I want to make sure you don't forget how to relax and have fun."
"Oh, don't worry about that. I plan on taking lots of time off very shortly. We'll spend days hanging out in the park, taking long walks, and just enjoying life."
"So, why were you working so much? I know that the year we were engaged, your modeling career far surpassed just being the ad-campaign girl for Speed Motorcycles. Within months of our engagement, you were being asked to model for the covers of major magazines and posed for some of the top companies in the country.
“Major corporations would fly you around the world, and offered you huge salaries, to pose with their products or to put your face on their magazine ads. Your rise to fame was unprecedented."
"That still drives you crazy," she teased me, and I leaned over from to chair to swat her ass playfully in mock aggravation. She raised up her ripe buttocks, allowing me to make contact with her round cheek, and when it vibrated under the impact of my palm, we both felt a thrill.
"No, it doesn't. I'm secure enough in my manhood to let my wife thrive. Besides, I'm proud of you."
"So why are you going on about it?" she taunted, making me grin. She'd gotten up from her beach recliner and straddled me on mine so she could tickle my chest with her manicured fingernails.
I put my hands on her waist and slid them up her pale body to cup her breasts. Fondling them gently, I said to her, "Because, you've been able to set your own demands and work schedule for almost two years straight now. You've always been really good about keeping your work schedule within reason so we'd have enough time to spend together. Having you out on photoshoots all day, every day for nearly a month was tougher on me than I'd like to admit."
"Sorry, but I needed to get in as much work as I could before my body starts to change and I can't model anymore. This last month may mark the end of my career for quite a long time."
"What are you talking about? Is this because you’re getting older? Don't worry, sweetheart. The shelf life of a model is short, but it's not that short. You still have plenty of years left to enjoy your career."
"Oh, I know that. But if I lose my skinny body, then I won't be as marketable. Besides, I don't think I'll want to work anymore, at least not for a few years. I think I'll want to stay at home, like my mother did."
"Don't tell me you’re burnt out on your career already? You've only been doing it a few years and you act like you really love it. Some days when you come home from work, you're smiling so big, I wonder if I shouldn't be jealous that you love your career more than you love me."
It was a joke and she giggled. Tickling my chest again, she said with a smile, "Don't worry, I don't love anything more than you. It's just that I'm pregnant."
"What?" I sat up straight so suddenly, I nearly knocked her off my lap. "I don't think I heard you right. Say that again."
"I'm pregnant." She was absolutely beaming as she smiled at me. I'd never seen her looking more radiantly beautiful.
"Are you sure? I thought you were on the pill." I gaped like a moron.
"I was, but it's not a hundred percent effective. I went to see my doctor when I had the flu last month, and she told me that it was morning sickness. I was six-weeks pregnant."
"Why didn't you tell me?" I was still in shock and didn't know how to feel.
"Because I knew you would worry and make me quit my job."
"Damn right, I would. You can't be on your feet all day in harsh weather conditions with nothing on but a bikini, keeping your weight down by starving yourself. My baby needs good nutrition, and his mother needs to pamper herself and relax." I was instantly protective and felt a glow in my heart I knew was pride and pure love.
"So, I told my agent, and he got my clients to compact their photo shoots into a one-month period of time. I was able to complete all the work I had committed to for the rest of the season in just four, short weeks, and now I'm officially on hiatus. I won't be accepting any new modeling jobs until after the baby is born, and maybe not at all."
"You're really doing this?" I could hardly believe how rapidly our lives had changed, and she nodded her head. I could see from the smile in her eyes and the glow in her cheeks that she was really happy, and I was, too.
Just over two, short years ago, I'd thought I was living the dream life with my secretary blowing me under my mahogany desk in my billion-dollar company offices, but I'd never been more wrong.
True happiness wasn't money, empty affairs, or even success. True happiness was this right here: having found someone you love who loves you, too, and turning that passion into a baby to raise and love together.
As I kissed Kayla with the tropical beach behind us and felt the love we had for each other envelop us, I knew that at long last, I had healed the wounds of my youth and was truly living the dream every man wanted, and I was going to enjoy every moment of it.
BAD BOY BILLIONAIRE
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams
BAD BOY BILLIONAIRE VOLUME I
Jack
There was a gentle breeze blowing as I poured the champagne into tall flutes and handed them to the two bikini-clad girls tanning on the deck. The captain had anchored the boat in a quiet spot just off the coast of Santorini, and I was enjoying the sun and sea with my companions. We were about to head north to Athens, where we would celebrate my thirty-third birthday with a party that would keep the whole city talking for months.
"Jack, I'm out of champagne again," the tanned blonde pouted as she held out her glass. She was the heiress to a Greek shipping fortune and, as a result, was very spoiled, but I enjoyed her company—and her body.
"Well, that will not do at all, will it?" I said as I pulled the bottle of Cristal out of the icy bucket and refilled her glass. "You must stay hydrated, mikri prinkipissa!"
"I'm not a little princess," she giggled as she sipped the cold, bubbly liquid. "I'm rich, but I'm definitely not royalty."
"I am!" the brunette next to her piped up, "and I'm out of champagne, too!"
"What an affront to the crown!" I cried. I hit the button that connected me to the staff below deck and said, "Another bottle of Cristal for the ladies!"
"Right away, sir," the voice replied and, in moments, a staff member dressed in pure white emerged from below, carrying an ice-cold bottle of champagne wrapped in a white napkin. He waited for my nod before popping the cork and sinking the bottle deep into the bucket of ice.
"But I'm still empty," the brunette pouted.
I grabbed the bottle and refilled her glass, smiling as she tugged at the strings that kept her bikini bottoms up on her hips. Both girls had long since removed their tops, allowing me to admire their oil-coated breasts. This offering seemed to be leading somewhere else entirely.
"You're a very naughty girl, prinkipissa!" I playfully scolded her as she tugged the thin strip of material away from her body and tossed it at me.
"You have no idea, Jack," she purred. She and her blonde friend leaned forward and grabbed my hands, pulling me down between them on the lounging bench.
Before I knew it, they had stripped me of my swim trunks and were taking turns wrapping their hands around my stiff shaft as they kissed me and pressed their naked bodies against mine. I gave in to their ministrations as I lay back and watched their glistening bodies move over mine. These tanned nymphs always managed to find my weak spots and exploit them, much to my delight—and often theirs.
Just as the blonde was about to take me deep into her mouth for the second time, a staff member emerged from below deck holding a phone.
"Sir, you have an urgent call," he said as he managed to keep his eyes above the action happening on the lounge.
"Can't you take a message and tell them I'll call back?" I said, irritated, as I watched the brunette princess playfully fight for her oral rights.
"It's your mother, sir," he said. "She said it is urgent that you answer the call. No matter what you are doing."
"Son-of-a-bitch," I swore under my breath as I pushed the girls aside and pulled my shorts back on. The one thing I knew about my mother was that she never cried wolf. If she said it was urgent, then it was urgent.
I descended the stairs and entered my office where the phone sat waiting for me. I took a deep breath before I picked it up.
"Hello, Mother," I began.
"Jackson Fitzgerald, you need to come home," she said solemnly. "I need you here, now."
"What's wrong, Mother?" I asked, playfully adding, "Can't the king fix things for you anymore?"
"Your father is dead, Jack," she said and then went silent.
"Wait, what?" I replied, unsure that I'd heard her correctly. "I thought you just said Pop is dead."
"I did," she replied. "He died this morning on his way to meet with some new investors."
"You're kidding me, right?" I said, trying to process the news, "He can't be dead. He's the healthiest man alive. He's obsessive when it comes to his health!"
"I'm sorry, Jack," my mother said, "I know it's your birthday and that you had a party planned, but we need you to come home right away."
"I'll get there as soon as I can," I said, adding as an afterthought, "Are you okay?"
"I'm . . . I'm . . . I don't know what I am," my mother said, sounding small and scared. "I didn't expect this."
"I'll get home as soon as I can. I promise," I said, trying to reassure my mother from thousands of miles away. "Where's Lincoln? Why isn't he there with you?"
"He's in California on a big case," she said quietly. "He said he'd try to get home by the end of the week."
"Son-of-a-bitch," I cursed under my breath.
"Jackson Fitzgerald!" my mother scolded. "Do not say those words! They are vulgar!"
"Sorry, Mother," I apologized, but I wasn't sorry at all. I was pissed at my brother for not hopping on the next plane back to New York to be with our mother as she grieved. "I'll get to Athens and catch the next plane out. Probably in the morning."
"Hurry, Jack," she pleaded. "I need you here."
"I'm on my way, Mother," I said then added. "I love you. I'll be there as soon as I can."
"I love you, too," she said, before hanging up.
I instructed the captain to pull up the anchor and head for Athens. Then I walked back up to the top deck where the two girls had resumed sunbathing. They both looked up expectantly, ready for me to rejoin the fun.
"C'mon, Jack!" the blonde called. "We kept your spot warm!"
I looked at the beautiful, naked bodies lying on the chaise lounge in front of me. I pushed my shorts down around my ankles and slid in between them.
"Have your way with me, girls," I said. I cupped the blonde girl's breast while the brunette princess straddled my hips, giggling as she began rocking herself to an orgasm of unparalleled intensity. I let go and pushed my sorrows aside as I gave in to the hedonistic pleasures of the girls' bodies as the yacht sped toward the mainland.
Reality could wait until we arrived.