The Billionaire’s Big Bold Woman: A Single Father Instalove Romance (The Billionaires’ Club)

Jason Kirby is an asshole. We’ve been friends for two years, and he never once mentioned that his sister is an angel. I would remember if he had. I would have been jerking off to thoughts of her long before now if I’d known. Because goddamn, she’s pretty.

It’s not hard to see why my girls thought she was a princess. Between her blonde hair, big blue eyes, and that porcelain skin, she’s beautiful in a way that’s entirely unfair. Add in that playful smile and those dangerous dimples, and I’m fucked on a level I’m not currently capable of comprehending.

Literally, I cannot comprehend it. Because as she climbs from the car and I see her generous curves for the first time, a landslide roars through me, gaining steam with each passing second. The silky black top underneath the partially unbuttoned jacket accentuates her cleavage, sending beads of sweat sliding down my back.

My dick rages to life like a demon, making my pants uncomfortably tight. My heart lodges itself in my throat, thudding so hard I’m partially convinced I’m having a heart attack. Is that what happens when all the blood in your body suddenly rushes to your dick?

If so, it’s a hell of a way to go.

It’s also a damn shame because I haven’t even gotten inside her yet.

‘What the fuck?’ I mumble, shaking my head like that’s going to dislodge the thought. Except…I’ve been thinking the same damn thing since I set eyes on her fifteen minutes ago, and it’s only growing louder and more insistent. I’ve never felt anything like it, which is saying something because I was married for a decade.

Marion never made my dick hard like this though. Not even in high school. That probably should have been my first clue not to get involved with her, but I stubbornly stuck the course until she blew the damn thing up in front of me. It’s been two years and I’m still kicking my way free of the wreckage, trying to pick up the pieces as I go.

What she did…well, there’s a special place in hell for people like her, and the biggest furnace is reserved just for her. If Lucifer ever grows tired of his throne, she’ll be crowned his successor.

I don’t give a fuck about her trying to frame me for her crimes. Sure, it stung, but our marriage was over long before she dealt that blow. And frankly, I’ve taken harder hits in my life—like when mine and Ian’s parents died. But she didn’t just hurt me. She hurt my girls. She hurt my brother. That’s unforgivable as far as I’m concerned.

I should have seen it coming. The fact that I didn’t still fucks me up. How many times did she threaten to take the girls if I left? How many times did she use them to shield herself when I started asking questions? Every time, I let it go. I backed down, not willing to risk losing my girls. I convinced myself that the girl I knew in high school was still in there, that she was just struggling to adjust to being a mom and things would level out eventually.

Turns out, that girl never existed in the first place. Everything was an act with her. She hated me. She resented our daughters. She never loved any of us. Hell, I’m not even sure she loved herself.

But she isn’t my problem anymore.

Bank fraud, mail and wire fraud, securities fraud, conspiracy, embezzlement, and a litany of other federal and state charges will keep her in prison until she’s old and gray. More importantly, she’ll never see our daughters again. She’ll never keep me from them. She’ll never hurt them again.

I wish like hell it hadn’t gone down the way it had. I’ll regret that Ian got caught in the crossfire for the rest of my life, but I’ll never regret being free of Marion. I’ll never regret that our girls are free of her toxicity. They deserve a mother who loves them unconditionally. Marion wasn’t capable of that. I don’t tell our daughters that, though.

On the rare occasion they ask about their mom, I try hard to keep my opinions to myself. Even if she doesn’t deserve them, she’s still their mother. She killed any respect I had for her a long time ago, but the girls don’t need to know that. All they need to know is that they’re loved.

And they are loved. Isla and Bella are my whole world. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them.

Jenna slams her car door, recalling my attention.

Her tits jiggle and bounce as she walks toward me, her hips swaying in a way that’s far too enticing. I follow every shift, my dick aching for relief. It’s been a long damn time since he was in anything but my own hand. Years before my marriage ended. I swore I was done with women when Marion went to jail. But this one…goddamn this woman is tempting.

I want her in my bed, her hair wrapped around my fist while I’m fucking her from behind. I want those thighs wrapped around my head while I eat her tasty little asshole. I want to debauch her, defile her, fuck her until I’m sated. The way she keeps looking at me makes it clear she wants the same thing. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes climbing up and down my body like she can’t look away. The pulse in her throat jumps as if it’s trying to break free as she climbs the steps toward me.

I catch her scent as she glides closer and my stomach growls. She smells like the cotton candy the girls always get at the fair, only about fifteen times sweeter. I want to feel her dissolving on my tongue and slipping down my throat.

Fuck, do I ever.

But Jenna doesn’t strike me as a one-and-done type of girl. She’s the kind that slips beneath your defenses and wrecks you, leaving you hopelessly, helplessly addicted. If I get my hands on her, I already know I won’t want to pry them off again. I’ll want to keep her, make her mine. Which means I can’t touch her.

I’ve got two five-year-old daughters to think about. The last thing they need is to get attached to another woman who might not stick around. Even though Marion was a shit mother, the girls struggled when she went to prison. It’s been two years, and they still end up in my bed at least once a week. If I have to go away overnight, they throw a holy fit.

How would they react if Jenna and I dated, only for her to decide a single father and twins is more than she was prepared to take on? I love every hair on their perfect little heads, but I’m fully aware of how challenging they can be.

They’re precocious and wild and far too smart for their own good. They just started kindergarten and Isla’s teacher is already trying to talk me into skipping her ahead a grade next year, which I won’t do. Heaven itself would tremble in fear if we tried to separate her and Bella.

And Bella…well, every time my phone rings, I’m half convinced it’s the school calling to tell me she burned it to the ground. She’s a fearless, fierce little girl who is going to change the world someday. Or rule it with an iron fist. Either is possible at this point.

They keep me busy. So, it’s better all around if I keep my damn hands to myself while Jenna is here. Sooner or later, my dick will give up the good fight and accept that he’s not getting in her…right?

Fuck, I hope he does. Otherwise, it’s going to be a long, painful day.

‘This place is so beautiful,’ Jenna murmurs, giving me a sweet smile when she finally reaches me. She looks around us in wide-eyed wander. ‘It’s like a fairytale castle.’

‘It’s a bitch to clean,’ I mutter, which is true. The girls run through this place like two tiny hurricanes. Trying to keep up with them is an exercise in futility. I’m old and out of shape. So, I don’t try to keep up with them. I just wait until they finally pass out, and then try to repair the damage before I carry them to the car and take them home.

We live not far from here, but spend a good portion of every day with Ian and Holly. During the week, the bus drops them at Holly’s office after school, and then Holly brings them home with her until I’m finished for the day. The girls spend two weekends a month with Marion’s parents. We spend at least one day of every other weekend here with Ian, Holly, and Finn. He’s a year old and the girls are obsessed with him.

Jenna makes a sound that’s a cross between a giggle and a snort. ‘You couldn’t pay me enough to live in a house like this,’ she admits. ‘Just thinking about all those stairs makes my feet hurt.’

‘The stairs are the best part of the house,’ I say with a chuckle. ‘The girls go down easy after running up and down them all day. It makes bedtime a helluva lot easier.’

‘They’re so cute!’ Jenna gushes, flashing those dimples at me. ‘They look just like you.’

‘You saying I’m cute, dimples?’ I tease.

‘Um, I…’ she stutters, her face turning bright red.

Christ, she’s sweet.

When I chuckle, her eyes narrow on me, fire flashing in them.

‘Fishing for compliments already?’ she asks.

‘From you? Always.’

She eyes me for a minute, trying to decide if I’m serious or if I’m just fucking with her. Truth is, I know what I look like, and it’s not hammered shit. But not even a good suit hides a dad bod, and I’ve definitely got one of those going on. Aside from a late-night dip in the pool, most of my exercise these days comes from chasing the girls around, cleaning up after them, or running around one of my construction sites. The gym equipment at home rarely gets used.

‘You’re sexy as hell, Mac,’ she says, her shoulders going back. ‘But I think you already knew that, didn’t you?’

She’s gorgeous, sweet as hell, bold, and willing to call me on my bullshit?

I’m officially fucked.

I take a step toward her, getting right up in her personal space.

She doesn’t move away. She sways toward me.

That cotton candy scent swirls around me, clouding my mind. I bet she tastes just as good as she smells. Especially in that sweet spot between her legs. Would she be as bold with my hand around her throat and my marks on her ass?

‘Anyone ever told you not to poke a bear, dimples?’

‘Yes.’ She tips her head back to look up at me, her eyes squinted against the sun. ‘But you know the best thing about being a grown ass woman, Mac?’

‘What’s that, princess?’

‘I get to make my own rules.’

Fuck. Me.

I take another step toward her, so close I know she feels my erection against her belly. I certainly feel it. And Jesus, she’s soft everywhere. Her body fits against mine like it was made to be there. I grit my teeth, resisting the urge to back her up against the wall, boost her up into my arms, and dry hump her like my fucking life depends on it.

‘When you’re in my bed, I’ll be the one making the rules, Jenna,’ I say, tipping my head down until my lips are a mere breath from touching her ear. ‘And baby girl? You will obey them.’

‘Who says I’ll be in your bed?’ she whispers. Her voice shakes ever so slightly, letting me know she’s not nearly as composed as she’d like me to think. She’s turned on, off-balance.

Good. Because she’s got me in the same state.

‘Those hard nipples and wet little cunt do,’ I growl in her ear. ‘You can lie to me if you want, but your body speaks the truth, princess. You want me. And when I get you in bed—when not if, Jenna—you won’t be saying no. Your mouth will be too full.’

She gulps audibly, the pulse in her throat racing.

I brush my lips across the soft plane of her cheek. ‘Get your sexy ass in the house before I do something we both know you aren’t ready for me to do to you yet.’

‘Li…’ The tip of her pink tongue peeps out of her mouth to skate across her bottom lip, wetting it. ‘Like what?’ she whispers then.

I groan, no longer sure which of us is going to cave to this first. Her? Me? Fuck. She’s got me tiptoeing on razor wire here, ready to backflip off into whatever this is and wherever it leads. I’ve always had self-control. But she’s testing its limits. The ground is eroding beneath my feet, threatening to send me plummeting into something I’ve never experienced before. Ever.

Where the hell has this woman been my entire life?

My cell rings before I can answer, startling us both. Jenna jumps backward as if it’s a bomb ready to detonate. I growl a curse and yank it from my pocket, cursing again when I see that it’s my new business partner, Justice Foster. I’ve been waiting for him to call. But I’m seriously tempted to ignore him just to get a taste of this bold little angel.

‘Yo-you should answer that,’ she says, her eyes wide and dilated, dazed.

I can’t wait to see just how dark I can make them. Later. Right now, I need a minute to contemplate how absolutely fucked I am…and to process how little that bothers me. I think she needs a minute too.

I meet her gaze, silently letting her know this conversation is far from over. When her eyes meet mine, her teeth sink into her bottom lip. She doesn’t say anything, and neither do I. I don’t think either of us need to put it to words. But she nods once, letting me knows she hears me loud and clear. She knows she’s mine. I see it written all over her face.

I stare at her for another second, just so I can bring every minute detail to the surface when I’m fucking my hand to thoughts of her in the bathroom later.

And then I take Justice’s call.