Juice: An Alpha Male Billionaire Romance - Part 5 (Juice: The Series)

Juice

An Alpha
Billionaire Romance

Part Five

Copyright © Juice
2015

By Victoria Starke

All rights
reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any
manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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, or
organizations is entirely coincidental.

This book
contains sexual situations and explicit language and is not suitable for readers
under 18.

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Bronwyn

“Everett,” I murmur, pulling me out of a light dreaming
sleep. Early morning sun fills the bedroom with a soft, yellow light, and I grab
for a spare pillow to hide my face. It’s too early. I feel hot and kick a leg
out over the covers. Searching my arm around, I pat the bed, feeling for him to
my left, but I find nothing. I feel alone.

“Everett?” I call again, this time intentionally, and hope
he’s somewhere close. I only hear an echo. No answer. This apartment suddenly
feels less like home when he’s not here.

I realize I’ve passed out naked from last night and enjoy
the vivid memory of him inside me, looking into the master bathroom’s shower.

Well, if he’s not here, I’m sure he won’t mind if I borrow a
shirt and boxers?

I tip toe into the enormous walk-in closet. It’s clearly a
custom-built accessory with under-lit shelves to the ceiling, a center island
chest of drawers, and a plush bench seat. I could live here. With my clothes,
of course.

My eyes creep around the space. I wonder if he has a camera
built-in? I won’t be long. The real prize is the discarded t-shirt. I grab it
and pull it to my face, inhaling a mixture of Everett’s of masculine deodorant
and pheromones. I pull the shirt over me and add a fresh pair of boxer shorts
with a funny print. I think I’ll wear this today. Walking out I catch myself in
the full length mirror, makeup smeared but smiling like a fool.

I peer out of the bedroom, again timidly. “Everett?” I call.
“Anyone here?” I’m talking to myself. But there’s a note on the countertop.

Out for a long run.
Eat something. Back soon. -E

His hand writing is rushed and scribbled on a torn piece of
graph paper. But it’s first thing he’s handwritten for me. I feel like a
teenager, heart brimming while holding this scrap in my hands. I’m falling hard.

Berries and other fruits sit in a bowl on the countertop. I
really just need a strong cup of coffee, and happily I spot a Nespresso machine
with a stack of colorful pods sitting alongside. I make a double.

The caffeine is beginning to kick in as I squint out at the
city’s park and buildings from Everett’s high rise view. Nope, this view still
isn’t getting old. I think I’m even getting my legs under me, even at this
height. Though the vantage is decoration enough, I turn around in a full circle,
looking over the medium gray interior of the place, and remark to myself on the
minimalist-chic style. That, or he’s just moved in. Either way, I need another
turn at that amazing shower.

I scamper into the master bath, close the door, and turn the
water to near searing hot. I know magazines tell you it’s not good for your
skin, but hot water just feels so damn good. I soak and lean my hair into the
waterfall. It seems with the two of us in here last night, I must not have had
the chance to properly wash my hair. Last night’s adventure keeping replaying
in my mind as I lather the lemon and sage scented shampoo into my hair. I fall
into a light hypnosis, standing and running the water over my head, cascading
in sheets over my face.

Everett

It’s quiet today. Everyone must be out of town. The
Hamptons, the Shore, Miami.

But I’m right where I want to be, pounding the park
pavement.

MOMA is in the rearview, I’m now cruising past the zoo, and
closing on the five mile mark. Pace is steady at a six minutes.

This is the best shape I’ve been since high school. For a
moment I hold a deep breath of cool morning air in my lungs.

I quicken my pace into a full sprint, ripping through the
gentle asphalt curves, as the Plaza begins to peak out under the tree cover. I
slow to a jog and take a few deep gulps of air.

I love this city.

I love the girl waiting for me.

I’m coming home for you.

Bronwyn

“Hello” a voice calls from inside the room, causing my heart
skips a beat.

“Um, who is it?” I call back meekly.

“It’s me, silly,” he says, peeking into the bathroom. “Mind
if I join?”

I laugh.

“I don’t mind at all,” I smile as he approaches the glass
shower in which I’m encased. He kicks off his running pants, and I notice he’s
already shirtless.

“No shirt today?” I ask.

“No, too hot,” he says, and I feel a twinge of jealousy
thinking of other people seeing him run half naked.

“I want you all to myself,” I say, and immediately wish I
didn’t say it aloud.

“You have me. All of me,” he says, now embracing with me in
the shower, naked.

He kisses me and instantly quiets my mind of any thoughts
other than the moment we’re having together. His body is warm and alive from
the exercise and his muscles look even more full than usual.

“God, you look amazing in here,” he says, his admiring eyes
looking me up and down. “I have to have you-” he says and I feel those large
hands again tighten around my arms. My eyes widen into his, seeing a fire lit
within them. His member is hard and pushing against my belly. He pulls my hand
onto it, and kisses around my ear sending shivers up and down my body.

“I need you again, I need to feel you come again,” he
whispers into my ear. I instinctively turn around and guide his manhood between
my legs. His massive size presses against me and his hands are now at my hips,
pulling me closer as I lean forward. His erection slides back and forth at my
opening, teasing my clit.

“Yes,” he moans and wraps his powerful arms around my body,
firmly grabbing my breasts and rolling my erect nipples. He continues to slide
at my entrance until it shifts and slides inside in one motion. He fills me and
I sharply inhale a breath. Though my body craves him, his size catches me by
surprise every time. His fingers dig into my hips. He pumps in and out of me in
smooth, long strokes. Our bodies pulse in a rhythm.

“I was thinking about fucking you my entire run,” he says
loudly. The thought excites me. Am I really on his mind as much as he’s on
mine?

“Yes, Everett…you can fuck me any time,” I pant and brace
myself against the shower wall. Even moments after we had sex last, I’m always
ready for more. I always want to be around him, him inside me.

 “Come for me, Bronwyn, come now,” he commands, and I let
go. My orgasm flushes through my body in wave after wave of pleasure. I tense
around him and feel him get even harder inside me. His cock is hitting me hard
and some pain mixes with the climax. My legs tremble and I feel him begin to
shoot inside me.

“Yes,” he exclaims and holds me tight as he joins me in
climax. My eyes are shut tight a moment. I wish I could be here in this moment
forever.

I feel him relax and pull me towards him again. I stand and
turn around to face him. Looking up to him I see his eyes even more intense,
staring at me deep and more focused than ever.

“Bronwyn,” he says, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”
My skin tingles at the word. Love. Did he really just say that? I just stare.
He’s left me speechless again, like the first night we met. Did I hear him
right?

“I think I love you too,” I say, burying my face into his
muscled chest. I hold him tight, not wanting to let him go. I feel my emotions
rising in my core, my throat. I can’t hold back.

“I’m sorry,” I say looking down now, and starting to cry. I
can’t tell if it’s tears or water from the shower. He gently cups my chin and
pulls my face to look into his again.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“It’s just-” I begin with thoughts of self-doubt flashing in
and out of my mind so fast I begin to get dizzy.

“No one has ever said that to me”

“I’ve never said it,” he says with his eyes full of emotion.
We kiss again, under the warm and comforting water.

This bathroom is outfitted like a four star hotel. Stacks of
fresh, clean towels fill the shelves. I grab two big ones, one to wrap myself,
one for my hair.

“Do you do the laundry?” I ask Everett, joking.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he calls back, exiting the bathroom
naked, and treating me to a view of his cute butt walking away.

“How do you keep up with this place?”

“I have a staff. Actually, her name is Theresa. She’s the
best. You’ll meet her if you dawdle here long enough,” he says eyeing me as I
sit on the bed.

“Anyway,” he says, “I want to discuss the business.”

My heart jumps. His investment in my business, our business,
what does this all mean?

“I know I’ve been at times a distraction, and I want you to
get back to what you do best,” he says, taking my hand. “Promoting
Namaste
.”

A smile spreads on his face, and I mirror him. I can’t
believe he’s talking to me this way, and giving me encouragement.

“I want you writing again. Every day. The company blog is
the best promotional tool we have at our disposal, and I want you leveraging
that to its full potential. Can you commit to that?”

“Yes sir!” I beam.

“Bron, we’re partners in this, call me Everett. Only sir,
when I’m fucking you,” he says and pushes me onto the bed. His physical power
is so overwhelming. His voice is at once joking and serious.

“Ha!” I giggle and though he just had me, I feel an urge to
have him again. I could spend every moment with him and never tire.

“So, not to break the mood,” he says, “but I want you to do
something. Something big.” I look into his eyes eagerly.

“Quit your job at Dunbar, and commit to this full time,” he
says, eyes unblinking.

“God,” I say, looking to the side, “I would love to.”

“What are you worried about?” he asks.

His question sends me back to that terrible day I was pulled
out early from school, the day my father died. Thoughts swirl and rest on the
uncertainties I’ve carried with me since. I knew ultimately I was responsible
for myself and others could leave at any moment. The last conversation with my
mother flips into my consciousness. It was at least six months ago, when I told
her I was moving to New York. On the surface she was encouraging, but every
question was followed up with a contingency of ‘when you move back home…’ But
every day here, this feels more like home. Every day with Everett, feels more
like I’m in the right place. Quitting my job, my last shred of security and independence
would put me at his mercy.

“I want to,” I start, “but what does that mean for me? I- I don’t
know how to run a company,” I stammer, looking away.

“Yes. Yes you do,” he says in a gruff tone, then stands and
walks off. I immediately regret revealing my self-doubt. Deep down, I feel this
is everything I wanted, but my mind still feels terrified, and I’m worried I’m
already failing.

How can I run a company with Everett, really? He’s a
billionaire. A billion. Would he even listen to my opinions on the business?

“So, again, what’s holding you back?” he asks, now from the
kitchen.

“Nothing,” I lie and scratch at my legs. He appears again at
the doorway, with a bottle in hand. Its dark green contents reveal it’s
Awake
,
our morning tonic. The bottle looks tiny in his hand. He cracks the top and
takes a huge gulp. He looks like a paid spokesman, not the main investor.

He watches me intently. “Do you feel uncomfortable?” he
asks, noticing my nervous tics.

“A bit. I mean, yes, I am,” I struggle finding the words to
express to him the torrent of thoughts swirling in my brain. Leaving my job,
falling in love with a dominating man, and feeling I may be losing my own
identity have me on the edge of a meltdown.

“Listen,” he says and places his large and strong right hand
under my chin and thumbs my lower lip while leaning in toward my face. “As I
was building my company,
Pulsr,
deep down I knew I had no idea what I
was doing.” I look up and his eyes unfocus and gaze off into that memory.

“But,” he says, again training his eyes on mine, “I have
enough regret to fill a lifetime. My rule now is to never leave anything on the
table, to try everything and fail hard if need be. I want you to take the same approach.
If you fail, we fail. It’s okay. But, together we’re going to make this real.”

That spinning feeling I get watching Everett speak starts to
happen again, but this time my heartrate is accelerating, and I feel better.
He’s right. I’ve been my own worst enemy. I talk myself out of doing exciting
and dangerous things. Now is the time to change that.

“Yes, ok. I want to do it. Whatever you say!” I say smiling
into his eyes. I surprise myself with the even and confident tone in my voice.
He matches me and grabs me suddenly. I shriek as he lifts me off the floor. My
head leans back and I look up to the ceiling. I fall back to him and hold onto
his muscled body. I feel so safe here.

“Good,” he says, putting me back on the bed. “I also have a
plan for national distribution, boutique gym partnerships, and promotional
events here in New York. First, though, you’re writing every day.”

“Yes, I’m onboard,” I staring into his eyes. Everything he
just said sounds scary and much bigger than myself, but his face says he will
be guiding it every step of the way.

* * *

“Figures,” Barry says, not looking up from his laptop.

I’ve just dropped the news I’m officially putting in my two weeks’
notice and my heart is pounding through my blouse.

“Where are you going anyway? Don’t tell me Whittaker
snatched you up. He’s always looking for hot piece of ass paralegals.”

Ugh.

“No,” I shoot back, staring daggers, “I’m starting my own
business.” As soon as I say the words, I wish I had it back. Barry doesn’t
deserve to know anything about me now or the future.

“Ha! You think
you
could run a business? With what
money, what experience?”

“I have a partner,” I say, and turn my back to this scum I
still have to call ‘boss’.

“Oh really? Probably some rich guy that just wants to fuck
ya.” I cringe and ball my fists, bolting out of Barry’s office. Every snide
comment from that shrill voice is like nails on the chalkboard. I have to leave
or I’ll throw his beloved coffee in his face.