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No Promises: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance by Michelle Love (5)

Love in a Day

A Billionaire Romance

One night, Mason Farmer and Faria Parek are late to the subway station and find themselves stuck in the middle of Manhattan. Due to the pouring rain, they find it difficult to find a cab. Their attraction obvious, they go back to Mason’s apartment, and a red-hot night of passion begins.

Over the next twenty-four hours, they spend every moment together and realize they are already beginning to fall in love – but then a random act of violence threatens to separate the lovers forever.

Will Faria and Mason survive to find their happy ever after? Or will a gunman’s bullet separate the young lover’s forever?

* * *

The Beat of Your Heart

This wasn’t just rain, Faria Parek thought as she ran down the Manhattan side walk. This was Armageddon, End-of-Days like rain. It fell in sheets, and coupled with the high winds, Faria was soaked through and shivering by the time she skittered down the subway steps.

She skidded to a halt as she reached the platform and found it…empty. What the hell? This was the Times Square station, one of the busiest on the line, it was never empty. Ever.

She glanced around and for a quick minute, the thought that maybe it was Armageddon or a zombie apocalypse seemed legitimate. She heard a tin can being dropped into a trash can along the platform and peaked around to see who was there.

At the other end of the platform, a young man was looking bored and impatient. He had wild dark curls, five days-worth of stubble, but Faria noticed the big eyes, the thick brows, the broad shoulders. He was gorgeous, but he was also dangerous looking, brooding, and she was down here alone late at night, and as badass as she considered herself, he was at least a foot taller than her five-five and could easily overpower her.

She looked away embarrassed as he met her gaze, but then she peeked back, he was still looking. Feeling awkward, she gave him a small wave, then felt stupid. He man hesitated then raised his hand too, an uncertain smile which lit up his face.

Faria debated for a second then started to walk towards him. Every fiber of her being was screaming at her not to go near this stranger but she had to know what was going on down here. She didn’t get to close though. “Hey.” Her voice cracked and she silently cursed herself. Don’t look vulnerable.

“Hey. You’re wet.”

For a second, Faria just blinked at him, then she started to giggle. The man seemed to realize what he said and started to laugh too. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. So stupid. Hi, I’m Mason.” He stepped forward and shook her hand, his green eyes friendly and warm.

“Faria.”

Mason was already taking his dark blue blazer off and he draped it around her shoulders. “Thank you,” she said, flushing as his fingers brushed her shoulders. As usual, she was dressed completely inappropriately for the weather – sleeveless t-shirt, blue jeans and sneakers. To her horror, as she glanced down, she noticed her nipples were entirely visible through her damp t-shirt, and felt even more grateful to this handsome stranger. He wasn’t just trying to warm her up.

“Do you know why it’s so empty down here?”

Mason shook his head. “I don’t. I only got here a couple of minutes before you, but when I saw, I didn’t want you to be afraid of the lone man so I thought I’d hang up here. I really don’t know what the hell is going on – there have been no trains since I got here and I can’t find anyone to ask.” He sighed, looking frustrated. “Did a Zombie apocalypse happen and we were the only two people not to hear about it?”

Faria grinned at him. “I was thinking the exact same thing.”

Mason laughed, a deep rich sound which made her belly flutter with something like desire. “Well, Faria, do you want to hang out for a while, see if any trains come?” He indicated the vending machine. “I can offer you a grape soda, a vintage year, I believe, and some delicacy known only as Le Twinkie?”

Faria grinned at him, liking his silly sense of humor. The brooding, menacing look was a million miles away now. “I’ll take the soda, but I’d rather lick one of the rails down there than eat a Twinkie.”

“Ah, a woman of fine taste.” He fed a dollar into the machine and handed her the soda can. “Thank you.” She could feel her face burning as their fingers brushed. God, he was sexy.

They sat down on one of the benches, Faria tucking her legs up under her. She tried to not get distracted by his long legs in his blue jeans, the temptation to run her hand down one of his strong thighs was palpable. “So, Mason, what do you do?”

“I’m an architect, family business,” he said with a smile. “You?”

“I’m studying at Columbia, music.”

“Singing?”

She shook her head. “Drums.”

Mason looked surprised for a moment. “Wow, that’s…well. That’s kind of hot. Let’s see your guns.”

Faria flexed her biceps. “Impressive.” Mason looked admiring. “But why drums?”

“Well, when I was younger, I was diagnosed with ADHD. Medication didn’t seem to work, then one day, my music teacher suggested I use up all that extra energy on learning an instrument. I love the tones, the timbre of different drums. And they transcend genre too…my musical taste is eclectic.”

“That’s cool. Do you play in an orchestra or a band?”

“A band. The Poison Trees. We play small club venues, bars, local festivals.”

Mason nodded. “I’ve seen you, actually, last year at TribecFest.”

Faria grinned. “That was us. I had a blast that day.”

“You were amazing, blew everyone away. So, metal, is that your favourite genre?”

She shook her head. “No, my favourite drum to play is the Tabla. It’s an Indian classical drum. I’m part-Indian, you see, and I love anything from my culture. So, when I had the opportunity to learn the instruments, it was a no-brainer.”

Mason was gazing at her and for a moment, she wondered if she was rambling on. “Sorry, am I hogging the conversation?”

“Not at all, I was just thinking I’d seen you before – apart from the gig, of course. You remind me of someone I knew when I was younger, but…never mind. So, the Tabla, is that played with sticks?”

Faria smiled at him. “No, fingers and palms.” She tapped out a rhythm on her knees to show him. “Whatever way you strike the drum, it creates a different sound.” She rested her hands on her knees. “What about you? Is architecture your passion?”

“It is…hold on a second.” Mason leaned forward and peered down the other end of the station. Faria followed his gaze and saw a station worker approaching them. They both stood and waited for him.

“Hey, folks, sorry, we’ve had a flood down in the tunnels and the whole system is out. My deputy was supposed to post a notice after we cleared everyone out earlier, but he slipped on the steps and knocked himself out. So, I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“No problem,” Mason said, “We’ll go grab a cab.”

Faria smiled at the station officer. “I hope your deputy is okay.”

“Mostly hurt his pride I think, but I’ll pass your best wishes along, thank you. Good luck getting a cab. Listen, I may have an umbrella in the lost and found. You could borrow that – if you don’t mind bring it back.”

“Perfect, thank you.”

On the street, Mason held the umbrella over them both. His shirt was quickly soaked through and Faria looked guilty. “Here, have your jacket back, you’re getting…wet.”

They both chuckled, feeling like kids, but Mason shook his head. “No way, I’m fine, little one.” She really was a sweetheart, he decided, as they both huddled under the umbrella, looking for a yellow cab with its light on. He’d tried to hide it, but he’d been floored by her beauty. Long, thick lustrous hair the color of mahogany, large brown eyes with thick dark lashes. Her lips were driving him crazy, full and a dark rose pink. She huddled in closer and he risked putting his arm around her. He looked down at her with a question in his eyes and she nodded as if to reassure him. “Body warmth is the way to go to beat hypothermia,” she grinned.

The trouble was, the closer she got, the more his body reacted. He could feel the beginnings of an erection and prayed she couldn’t feel it and think he was a creep. He distracted himself by looking for a cab. “Where do you live in the city, Faria? I we can only get one cab, we should share, or I could walk you home.”

She grinned. “It would be a very long walk. I live in Pomonok. You?”

He felt a little embarrassed. “Upper East Side.”

“Fancy.” But she grinned.

Mason hesitated. “Look, this is going to sound…odd, but if we walk to my place…I could give you dry clothes, somewhere to shelter until we can call a cab or Uber. Say if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

Faria studied him for a long minute then nodded. “Okay. Promise you’re not a serial killer and that you won’t keep my corpse for a trophy?”

For a moment he was startled, then he threw his head back and laughed. “I swear to God I’m not and I won’t. I will corrupt you by feeding you pizza at three a.m. though.”

“Deviant.” Faria grinned up at him and Mason found his body respond to that smile. In a second, everything changed. Their gazes locked and then he was kissing her, feeling her press her body to his. When they broke away, they were both breathless. “Mason,” she whispered, “I don’t think it’s pizza you’ll be corrupting me with.”

God damn it. His cock was pressing painfully against his jeans then. “Beautiful girl…how fast can you run?”

Faria grinned. “Pretty fast…catch me if you can.”

She took off and, laughing, he followed, catching her at the end of the block. He smiled down at her. “Just remembered you don’t know where I live?”

“Pretty much.”

They walked the rest of the way, holding hands. Mason almost shook his head at the suddenness of this situation, but in his bones, he knew it was fate. He was meant to meet this lovely girl.

At Mason’s apartment, Faria followed him into the large living room with wall to floor windows that looked over the city. “Wow.”

Mason didn’t turn the overhead light on so she could see out without reflection. She went to the window and placed her hands flat against the glass. Mason watched her for a moment then walked up behind her and slid his hands around her waist. Their eyes met in the reflection in the glass. Mason stroked her belly, feeling the soft curve of it under damp t-shirt. Faria moaned and leaned back into him. God, she wanted this man. She’d never had a one-night stand before but Mason was special. She wanted him, next to her, on top of her, inside her. She turned in his arms and he bent his head to kiss her again, this time lingering over the embrace, his lips perfectly fitted her hers.

“I need to be inside you,” he murmured, making her pulse race, her blood pump furiously in her veins. Her cunt trembled with desire.

“Fuck me against the window,” she said, and with an animal growl, they began to tear each other’s clothes off, casting the damp clothing to the floor. Mason retrieved a condom from his pocket, and Faria helped him slid it on.

There was no waiting; Mason lifted her easily and impaled her on his cock. Faria gasped as the thick long shaft filled her, them Mason was pressing her back against the glass, fucking her hard, Faria clawing at his strong, firm back muscles. Mason’s mouth was rough on hers.

They moved together, finding their rhythm easily and when they tumbled to the floor, Faria straddled him, riding him hard. Faria threw her head back as she came, her body juddering and shaking, Mason bucking under her as his climax took him.

Faria moved off him and he gathered her to him as they recovered, panting for air. Faria kissed him lightly. “Oh, we are so going to do that again.”

Mason laughed, his damp curls sticking to his face. “Hell, yes we are.” He stroked her face. “So freakin’ beautiful.”

“Right back at ya.” Faria tucked her head into his neck, kissing his throat as she did. “Ever felt like you’ve known someone forever when really, you only just met?”

“Not until tonight. Faria, it’s Saturday tomorrow, and I don’t know your plans, but I’d love to spend the day with you.”

Faria felt a thrill go through her. “I would like that.”

Mason smiled – god, the man was devastating. “In that case…” He slowly got to his head and lifted her into his arms. “I’m going to take you to bed now, and kiss every inch of your beautiful body.”

He laid her on the bed and gently pushed her legs apart. Her body was incredible, all curves, and caramel soft skin. His lips found her inner thigh a he made his way towards her sex and as he gently parted her labia with his fingers, he saw the rich red peach of her cunt. “You’re so pretty, baby.”

He took her clit into his mouth, lashing his tongue around it, teasing, nibbling down on it until Faria was thrashing beneath him, coming over and over as she cried out his name, then he launched his diamond hard cock into her again, pulling her legs around him, entranced by the sight of his cock delving deep into her. They fit together so perfectly, he wondered at their perfect symmetry. His olive skin next to hers. Her long dark hair clouded around her head on the pillow, her large brown eyes shining up at him. That luscious pink mouth open as she gasped her excitement. “God, Faria…”

He came as she did, their gazes locked. He stroked her clit, making her orgasm again. He never wanted to stop touching her. He laid down next to her as they recovered, but found neither could keep their hands off each other.

Hours passed, they talked, made love, and son it was impossible to believe that they had known each other for less than a day.

As day broke over Manhattan, Mason stroked her face. “Faria, I know this is ridiculously fast…but I cannot imagine my life without you now.”

Faria smiled. “I know what you mean. It’s…” She paused considering then laughed softly. “A fairytale.”

Mason laughed with her. “That’s exactly what it is.”

Faria straddled him, bending down to kiss his mouth. “I’m going to rise you so hard, baby.”

And she kept her promise, impaling herself on his cock and fucking him, moaning as his cock slammed deep inside her until they were both shivering and coming.

Finally, just before noon, they were laying quietly together, holding hands when Faria’s stomach gave an outraged grumble. “Dear god, belly,” she said, looking down at it in mock-outrage. “Way to choose your moment.”

Mason chuckled. “To be fair, it is time I fed you. Thing is, I don’t have anything. I could order in. Pizza?”

Faria considered. “You know what I suddenly have a craving for? Cereal.”

Mason looked surprised then grinned. “Then cereal it is. There’s a bodega on the corner, I’ll go down.”

“I’ll come with you.”

They dressed in still damp clothes, but Faria saw her t-shirt was still see-through. Mason pulled a grey-marl tee from his closet. “Here, it might be a little big but it’s clean, I promise.”

Faria thanked him and slipped it on. The t-shirt clung to her large breasts but fell loosely over her belly. Mason helped her knot it up under her breasts, then ran his finger down the exposed skin of her belly, notching the tip of his finger in her navel. “Sexy girl.”

They kissed again, then Faria gently pushed him away. “We’ll end up right where we started if we do that. I need food, man. Gimme.”

Mason laughed and they walked hand-in-hand to the elevator. For the first time, Faria seemed to notice her surroundings. Mason’s building was one of the high-end, million-dollar apartment blocks and for the first time, he saw her look nervous.

“What is it?”

“I didn’t realize you were so…um…well, upper class.”

Mason threw his head back and laughed. “Believe me, Faria, I’m no such thing. Look, there’s money in architecture in this city and I got lucky. I’m originally from Poughkeepsie, the only son of a school teacher and a town clerk. I just found my passion in something that pays well.”

He cupped her face in his hands. “But I’ve never felt richer in life than in the last few hours. Money is nothing when I have you in my arms.”

Faria melted in his arms and they embraced, kissing until the elevator delivered them to the ground floor.

Manhattan was busy on the Saturday afternoon, and as they walked down to the bodega, they saw a melee across the street – two groups of protesters yelling at each other. Mason could see a bunch of skinheads being aggressive towards a bunch of women and started to head towards them but then the police came and dispersed the group.

One of the skinheads noticed Mason and Faria and nudge his friend. Mason instinctively knew what they were seeing – the white man and the Indian girl. Bastards. Mason deftly steered Faria to his other side, shielding her from their view, but thankfully, they turned away. He breathed a sigh of relief.

In the bodega, he and Faria lingered indecisively over the kind of cereal she wanted. “My kid brain is saying Lucky Charms or Frosted Minis,” she said and he loved the way she was taking this so seriously, “but my adult brain is saying oatmeal or something with…nuts.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him. “You know, for energy.”

Mason grinned but then a very tiny woman tapped him on the arm. “Excuse, sir, would you mind reaching up for me and grabbing some of those Lucky Charms for me?”

“My pleasure.” He handed the woman the box of cereal and she smiled at both of them.

“Lovely boy. You hang onto him, Missy,” she said to Faria who beamed at her.

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t.” She squeezed Mason’s hand and he smiled down at her.

They finally settled on oatmeal, then went to pay.

As they approached the cash register, Mason saw the two skinheads enter the store and look around. He knew instinctively they were looking for he and Faria. One of them spotted them and nudged the other. The apparent lead skinhead walked over. He nodded at Faria.

“What are you doing with her?”

Mason squared up. “How is it any of your business?”

He didn’t like the way the man was looking at Faria, a mixture of hatred and lust. Mason stepped in front of her. “Back away, man. Right now.”

He felt Faria’s hand slip into his and squeeze it. She was telling him she was okay. The other skinhead was bothering the clerk behind the register. The lead skinhead turned to speak to him but the other skinhead pulled a gun and waved it around.

It all seemed to go in slow motion then

The bodega owner was reaching for something behind the bar and Mason shook his head at him. Just give him the money, dude. Your insurance will pay.

But the bodega owner didn’t listen. He suddenly yanked out a baseball bat and brought it down hard on the robber’s arm. Mason heard the bone crunch at the same time as the skinhead dropped the gun.

The lead skinhead picked it up, gave a strange smile and to Mason’s horror, aimed it at Faria. “Fucking Indian whore…”

The sound of the gunshot in the bodega was deafening. Mason saw Faria buckle as the bullet hit her directly through her navel and blood spurted from the wound. The skinhead dropped the gun and ran, with her partner staggering after him. Someone screamed. Faria wobbled then began to sink to the ground.

“No, no, no…no!” He caught her as she crumpled, her eyes closed. “Please, someone help us, she’s been shot…”

This couldn’t be happening. He looked around wildly, pressing down hard on the wound, keeping the precious blood inside. The women they’d smiled at earlier was pale white, but she was talking into her cellphone. “Yes, we need ambulance and police, please hurry, a young girl’s been shot.”

Mason concentrated on Faria then, seeing how pale she was, her caramel skin wan and yellow. She was losing blood way too fast. “Hang on, baby, please…for me.” With his free hand, he felt for pulse and to his horror, he could not feel one. “Keep your heart beating,” he yelled at his love, “come on! Like the drums, keep the beat going…baby, please.”

He looked at the woman. “Here, please help me. I need you to press on the wound, keep her blood inside. I need to pump her heart.”

They worked together until the first responders arrived, then Mason let them take over. He listened with his eyes closed.

“She’s got a pulse, but this blood loss is bad. We need to get her to the E.R. stat.”

Mason raveled with her in the ambulance but at the hospital, Faria was taken straight into surgery and Mason was left to wait. As the receptionist asked him for Faria’s details, he realized he didn’t know her last name, her age, her family

“I’m sorry,” he said, feeling hopeless. “We only just met.” He sighed and closed his eyes but then something occurred to him. “Listen, I know she is studying at Columbia in the music department. I’ll call them, see if I can find out anything.”

To his frustration, the clerk at the administrator’s office would give him the details. “Okay, that’s fine but would you please call the hospital and give them her details? She’s been shot.”

The clerk sounded shocked, then a little more sympathetic. “I will call them, Mr. Farmer. I hope your friend is okay.”

Friend. Faria was more than a friend to him, he knew that without a doubt. In less than twenty-four hours, this little girl, beautiful girl, had become his future. He loved her. He loved her with all his heart.

After what seemed like hours, the surgeon came to see him, along with the administrator. “Mr. Farmer, we’re telling you this because it seems Miss Parek doesn’t have any living relatives in New York and you appear to be the closest to her. We’ve operated and managed to stabilize her, although she has lost a lot of blood, and she’s very weak. Her abdominal artery was damaged but we’ve managed to repair it. The next twenty-four hours will be critical.”

Mason, shell-shocked and covered in Faria’s blood nodded. “It was a hate crime,” he said in a cracked voice. “They didn’t like seeing a white man with a woman of color. So, they shot her. They’d never met or spoken to her before in their lives. How could they hate her so much? How fucking sick is that?”

The doctor and administrator exchanged a glance. “Mr. Farmer, I think we should check you out. We can get you a cot in Miss Parek’s room, so you can stay with her. We’ll get you some clean scrubs to wear.” He patted Mason’s arm, his expression kind and sympathetic. “You can be there when she wakes up. And she will wake up, Mr. Farmer. We’re doing everything we can.”

Mason fell into a fitful sleep eventually as the night drew on, but every time he heard a noise, he would wake, hoping it was Faria. As dawn began to break, he finally heard the sound he was waiting for.

“Mason?” Her voice was soft, gravelly, but to him it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. He went to her side immediately.

“Baby? Oh, baby, thank god…thank god…” He stroked her hair back from her face and she smiled as her eyes focused on him.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much, Mason.”

Tears were pouring down his face. “I love you too, by god, I am so in love with you.” He pressed his lips to hers, hesitantly at first in case she needed oxygen but she kissed him back with passion,

“Don’t cry, baby. I’m going to be okay.”

Mason stroked her face. “They told me you don’t have any family, so that’s why they let me stay.”

Faria nodded. “It’s true, I am alone.”

“Not anymore. Not anymore, Faria, my love.” He kissed her again and felt her sigh at his caress. “Marry me.” He hadn’t planned to say the words, but as soon as they came out, he knew it was right and when she smiled a beautiful smile back at him, her eyes filling with tears, the moment she whispered “Yes”, he thought his heart might burst from happiness.

Five years later…

“And tonight, it’s my honor to introduce the newest recipients of the Grammy for Best Newcomers, the all-female rock group, The Poison Trees. Miranda, Lisa and Faria, welcome…”

“Mommy, you’re on tv!”

Faria grinned, swinging her daughter up into her arms and tickling her. Holly screamed in delight and showered her mother with kisses. “Did you win a prize, Mommy?”

“She sure did.” Mason, a very proud husband, walked into the room, their son riding on his back, yelling a war cry.

“Mommy’s got a Grammy!” Billy shaped his hand into a rock sign and yelled again. He was wearing his favorite Poison Trees t-shirt.

The family tumbled onto their large couch and cuddled up to watch the television repeat of the awards show. They were in their Colorado getaway lodge, high in the mountains, a roaring fire inside, deep drifts of snow outside. They’d flown here directly after the awards on the Sunday night, anxious to get some family time together before Faria had to go on tour again.

The lodge, designed and built by Mason, was built to be family friendly instead of luxurious and cutting edge and Faria had loved it the moment she saw it. It had been his wedding present to his wife, newly recovered from her shooting as they wed quietly in his home town of Poughkeepsie. His family had welcomed Faria as if they had known her forever and Mason knew that his mother, especially, felt she had the daughter she never had now.

Billy was born nine months after the wedding, a traumatic pregnancy as Faria was still recovering, but she had refused to postpone motherhood because of it. Billy was born healthy and yelling and was followed two years later by Holly, who idolized her big brother.

For Faria and Mason, theirs was a perfect partnership, equals in everything, and even more passionate each passing day. Their love for each other was reflected in their love for their children – and their dog, Heinz – the perfect little family.

Now, as they huddled together on the couch, wrapped in snuggly woolen throws, watching the television, Mason leaned over and kissed his beautiful wife. “I love you and I’m the proudest husband in the world.”

Faria beamed at him. “Thank you, baby. I couldn’t have done any of it without you and the kids. You have given me all the love in the world and I adore you.”

Billy was watching his parents as they kissed. “Mom, Dad…tell us the story of how you met again.”

Mason and Faria exchanged a look and a smile. “Well,” Mason began with a wicked twinkle in his eyes, “one night in Manhattan…there was a zombie apocalypse…”

The End.

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