CRAVED (By the Alpha Billionaire #1)
Read CRAVED (By the Alpha Billionaire #1) Online
Authors: Rossi St. James
CRAVED
by the Alpha
Billionaire
ROSSI ST JAMES
COPYRIGHT 2015 ROSSI ST JAMES
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher or author. If you are reading this book and you have not purchased it or received an advanced copy directly from the author, this book has been pirated.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or, if an actual place, are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
DEDICATION
To my dogs, Sunny and Cloudy, for letting me bounce ideas off you when I write myself into a corner.
Rossi
OTHER BOOKS BY ROSSI ST JAMES
DESCRIPTION
Maisie James has just seen the unthinkable. Walking in on her boyfriend of five years plowing her stepsister, she’s never felt so betrayed. All she wants to do is forget.
And billionaire Sawyer Thomas knows exactly how to make that happen. The problem? Their fire and ice chemistry, the fact that they come from completely different worlds, and the fact that they’re complete strangers.
Four days. That’s all he needs to make her forget the pain that courses through her veins like an incurable disease. Four days to make her forget what happened. To make her forget her name. All she has to do is get on that plane.
But what’s stopping her?
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Part 1 of 3 in a new mini romance serial. Contains cliffhangers. Parts 2 and 3 to be released in rapid succession. Approx 50 pages. Intended for adults only due to sexual content.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
ONE – MAISIE
TWO - SAWYER
THREE - MAISIE
FOUR - SAWYER
FIVE - MAISIE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PREVIEW – BIKER STEPBROTHER #1
MAISIE
None of what happened that night was my fault.
I couldn’t help that hours earlier I’d walked in on my boyfriend of five years fucking the living daylights out of my stepsister. I couldn’t help it that I immediately proceeded to drive to the only bar in our one horse town that just so happened to be connected to the only hotel in town that just so happened to be housing a man from out of town who looked an awful lot like Ryan Gosling.
I also couldn’t help it that said Ryan Gosling twin was hitting on me something fierce. Or a least it felt like he was. I’d been drinking since the moment I sat down at the scratched wood bar.
“I’m going to go ahead and stop you now,” I said, trying not to slur my words after my second double vodka. “You’re really hot and all, but I’m not in the market for whatever it is you’re peddling right now.”
He inched closer to me, a slow smile simmering on his impossibly kissable lips. “You don’t have the slightest clue what I’m
peddling
.”
“You just got done telling me that you’re some fancy pants businessman from New York City who got stranded in our little one stoplight town because your private jet is having mechanical problems,” I said. “So you’re staying here for an indeterminate amount of time, and you’re bored. You want a hook up. I can read between the lines. I may be drunk, but I’m not stupid.”
I slammed the rest of my drink and sat the glass down on the table, silently deliberating about whether or not I needed another. The room was slightly off kilter, but I fully intended to drink until I numbed the pain and forgot what it looked like to see my high school sweetheart’s pale white ass bobbing up and as my spread eagled stepsister screamed out his name in pleasure.
And then he had the nerve to finish inside of her before I had a chance to bolt out of there. The vision of his clenched ass cheeks and strained neck as he moaned like a wild animal while simultaneously releasing himself inside her was forever burned into my mind.
I shook my head, as if that could rattle the memory out of there. It seemed weird that I didn’t cry. Not once. I didn’t shed a single tear. Maybe I didn’t love him as much as I thought I did? It was being lied to. That’s what stung the most.
“Louie, another vodka tonic, please!” I called out.
He prepared another drink for me and slid it my way. “You going to stay the night, Maisie? You’re in no condition to drive home.”
“Maisie,” the businessman said slowly. “That’s your name.”
I’d refused to tell it to him earlier.
“Thanks a lot, Louie,” I mumbled. I took a sip of my fresh drink and let it burn as it trickled down my throat. “So what’s your name? Since you know mine now and all.”
“Sawyer,” he said. “Sawyer Thomas.”
“Oh, wow, just like that now we’re on a second name basis,” I said, eyeing him up and down. “That’s smooth. Still not telling you mine though.”
He raked his fingers through the side of his sandy brown hair, his hooded hazel eyes honing in on me like two sexy, concentrated lasers. Through my inebriated state, I couldn’t tell if he was amused, intrigued or annoyed with me. Maybe it was a little of everything.
“I don’t want to have sex with you,” he said.
I cocked my head to the side, my lips spreading into an amused grin. “Way to be blunt.”
“You’re a little mouthy for my taste,” he said. He turned away from me, focusing on the T.V. above the bar that played highlights on some sports channel. The glint of his diamond cufflink caught the pale bar light above as he spun his drink with his fingers.
“You probably like ‘em quiet so you don’t have to hear them complain about that poor excuse for a cock you’re packing,” I said. My cheeks reddened. I never spoke to strangers that way. It wasn’t my nature, and I was raised better than that. I was drunk. I was angry. I was taking everything about my shitty day out on this very attractive man who just so dared to make small talk with me at a hotel bar.
Sawyer turned around slowly, an incredulous look on his face. “Wow.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, my hand rushing to his shoulder. “Really. I’m so sorry. That was completely uncalled for. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”
I wanted to leave. I wanted to pretend that I hadn’t been an annoying, drunk bitch to this poor stranger. I wanted to go home and forget I’d ever stepped foot inside the Moonlight Lounge connected to the local Best Western. But I couldn’t leave. I’d been drinking heavily all night, and Louie wouldn’t allow it.
“Excuse me,” I said, grabbing my purse and stumbling out of the bar. I made a bee line for the hotel lobby where I promptly reserved a suite and headed to the elevator. I fully intended to take off all my clothes, soak in a hot bath, wrap myself in a fluffy, white robe and order a pizza. If I was still coherent after that, I’d probably raid the mini bar.
I found my room and pulled the keycard from the paper envelope.
“So we meet again.”
I turned around to find Sawyer directly behind me, his own keycard in hand as he walked to a door just one down from mine. We were staying right next to each other.
My cheeks flushed ten shades of crimson. I’d bolted out of the bar to get away from him. It was just my luck that we’d be staying in neighboring rooms.
“What’s up with this shrinking violet act all of a sudden?” he said with a smirk. “You make one remark about my cock, never having the pleasure of seeing it I might add, and all of a sudden you run away blushing?”
“Look, I said I was sorry. I’ve had a really horrible day. Can you just cut me a little slack, please? Maybe pretend we never met and go on your little way?”
“And there she is again,” he mused. “Mouthy Maisie.”
I rolled my eyes.
“I’ll have you know, my cock is huge. And I know most guys say that, but mine really is. But you’ll never know that, Mouthy Maisie, because you’re a lot of talk and no action. I can tell.”
“You don’t know a damn thing about me,” I said, crossing my arms and squaring my gaze with his. I pushed away any and all thoughts that crept into my mind about his cock and how big it was. Or wasn’t.
“I know you talk too much,” he said. “You didn’t shut up at the bar for two seconds, rambling on and on to the bartender like he gave two shits. I know you walked in on your boyfriend pounding your stepsister. I know you came here because you’re trying to forget about what you saw, as if alcohol was the perfect solution.”
He huffed like the arrogant asshole he seemed to be.
“Okay, Sawyer, what’s the perfect solution then?” I asked. “What could possibly make me forget about everything I saw earlier today?”
He walked up to me, steady like a freight train, until our mouths held in limbo mere inches apart. The faint musk of an expensive cologne permeated off his warm skin and into my lungs. I swallowed the lump in my throat but it came right back.
“Me,” he said. He lifted his hand to my face, twirling a strand of blonde hair around his fingers. “I could make you forget he ever existed.”
My heart drummed in my chest, and I closed my eyes for only a minute. I wanted to forget. I wanted to forget my ex ever existed.
“I don’t fuck strangers,” I said, though secretly the idea of it excited me. I’d been with Luke since high school. He was the only thing, or dick rather, I’d ever experienced. “I told you that at the bar.”
“I wasn’t offering.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“I was just making a statement.” He shrugged and headed back to his door.
I swiped my keycard and entered my room, unable to ignore the warmth and wetness invading my core.
For five years, I’d been Luke’s loyal, devoted little girlfriend, patiently waiting for the day he’d finally decide to pop the question. My one carat, princess cut ring was just waiting at the jeweler downtown on the square. Someday he’d buy it, he promised, always stringing me along.
I loved the shit out of him. Then again, so did everyone else. Including my stepsister, Sara. He was magnetic, charming, gorgeous, and it turns out, a royal douche bag.
I flipped on the light to my hotel room, my eyes immediately honing in on a door in the middle of the wall. My room was connected to the businessman’s room. I bit my lip, my hand traveling down between my legs with the kind of the tingle and warmth only a forbidden, inhibition-free night could relieve.
A deep breath sucked in through my lips, and I closed my eyes. By the time I opened them, I found myself standing in front of the door that lead to his room. I unbolted my side and knocked.
TWO
Sawyer
Her mouth. Her juicy, plump, heart-shaped mouth. The things I could do to it if she’d only shut up for a minute. That girl rambled on at the bar, and because I had nothing better to do, I chimed in on her conversation. I wasn’t sure what planet she was from, but where I came from that didn’t equate to wanting to fuck a girl.
I smirked. She was pretty, like a small town girl who didn’t realize just how pretty she actually was compared to the rest of the world. Fuckable mouth. Hips I could grip. A nice, round ass to slap. Long, wavy blonde hair perfect for pulling. I’d bet my private jet company that she’d never fucked anyone the way I could fuck her.
But she’d never know. Physically she was my type. She was the type I
craved
. The type I’d cross oceans for, and I had before.
But that sassy mouth.
I removed my cufflinks and sat them on the counter by the bathroom sink, unknotting my black silk tie afterward. A light rapping on the door brought my attention out of the bathroom and directed towards a door by the dresser I hadn’t noticed before. Apparently our rooms were adjoining.
I flipped the lock and pulled the door open. Mouthy Maisie stood, coy and quiet, on the other side.
“I want to forget,” she said. Her round, aqua eyes seemed to silently plead and apologize all at the same time.
“Told you. You’re not my type.”
Her full, bottom lip pouted out. “Really?”
“Goodnight, Mouthy Maisie.” I grabbed the edge of the door and began to close it, but she reached her hand out to stop it. “Yes?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye with the back of her hand. For a split second I saw vulnerability written all over her pretty face. “Never mind.”
“You really want to forget?” I asked.
She nodded, worrying her lip.
“Sober up,” I instructed. I glanced down at my watch. It was only nine o’clock. “If you’re still up by midnight, knock on my door. I don’t fuck drunk women.”
I shut the door and stripped down to my boxer briefs, stretching out on the king sized bed and relaxing across from the drone of late night T.V. I hoped my plane would be ready by the next day. I wanted to get back to New York. The Best Western in BFE, Missouri wasn’t really doing much for me. I craved the stimulation of the bright lights and big city I called home.
I opened my eyes as an infomercial blared on the T.V. I must have fallen asleep. My eyes squinted across the bed towards the red LED alarm clock. 2:31 A.M.
Your loss, Mouthy Maisie.
I tried to fall back asleep, but it was as if she were suddenly an earworm. Stuck in my head. The fact that she turned me down the first time, when I hadn’t even offered, coupled with the second blatant disregard was like an unfamiliar slap in the face. That never happened. Women never turned me down. They threw themselves at me, and when I was done fucking them, they begged for more.
Then again, people knew me back home. Everyone in the entire Manhattan area plus all the boroughs knew I was billionaire Sawyer Thomas. Out in BFE, Missouri, I was just an asshole with a private jet. I supposed that made it slightly harder to get laid.
I tossed and turned, falling in and out of sleep until six in the morning, when I finally gave up and headed downstairs for a “deluxe” continental breakfast. I couldn’t wait to dig into microwaved French toast and flaccid strips of reheated bacon.
The second I rounded the corner towards the dining area, I saw her. A mess of blonde bedhead piled high on top of her head and wearing her jeans and blouse from the night before, it was her.