Tough Luck: A New Adult Billionaire Romance (The Vegas Billionaire Obsession Series Book 3) (5 page)

Drew

The rest of the day with Max was enlightening. Not only was I quickly learning the ways of wealth according to Max, but in a strange way, I got a little closer to the father I never knew until he died. One thing I quickly grew to appreciate was that Max was a decent man. He was my brother. I had a brother! I was still coming to terms with that.

I remember wishing for one when I was younger, and my mom only had girls after she had me. I was fiercely protective of my sisters and all my family. This curveball, however, was such a strange irony—losing a father and gaining a brother.

As we sat in the suite for a drink before dinner, I thought a few things needed to be said.

“Max, you know, I get the feeling we’ll be spending more time together, in the business at least, and well, as brothers.”

“Yes. It’s been wild so far, finding out about you.”

“No doubt. So far, I can’t think of a better scenario for a—a reunion, so to speak. We could have been polar opposites, you know?”

“Of course. I had seen you on TV after I found out about you, and had no idea what to expect. It was a little funny, to be honest—I had seen you on the news before all this, and it never dawned on me. But then, once I found out, and really looked at you, it was obvious. We look almost exactly alike. And we both look just like Dad.”

“Yeah, it’s hard to believe. When you phoned and invited me to Vegas with you, I wasn’t sure what to think either. I mean, sitting where I am, and knowing that our dad threw you a curveball too, well, I guess you could have taken this curveball in his will badly, or at least, differently.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, having to split your inheritance with me—a complete stranger. I don’t feel I deserve a penny of it, for the record.”

“I don’t think of it that way, Drew. The way I see it, it’s your birthright. And in some ways, Dad, and maybe your mother, or my mother, for all I know, robbed you of its enjoyment for all these years.”

“I appreciate you feel that way, Max. I’m still processing it. I don’t even know what he looked like, you know? It’s a lot to take in. Anyhow, as we’re here in Vegas and our schedules aren’t too tight, can you tell me about him?”

“Sure.”

“Tell me what he was like. Not the kind of details I can google.”

“What do you want to know?”

“For starters, was he born into wealth?”

“Not at all. In a nutshell, Dad was a capitalist—pure and simple. He grew up in the mean streets of inner city New York. They had it hard. He would say living in New York was worse than fighting in a war zone for the Army. From there, he moved to Dallas and got his first gig working the offshore oil rigs. Somewhere in those early days, he got to working for an oil magnate. That was in the seventies.

Maybe that guy took him under his wing. I don’t know for sure, but from then on, he put every penny he earned into oil stock. There’s a whole slew of articles online about the story, but the gist of it is, he got wind of a disagreement among the board members and took out a massive loan to buy up more shares. Six months later, a hostile takeover quadrupled the stock value, and he sold all his shares.”

“Isn’t that insider trading?”

“No. Not at all, for three reasons. First, he wasn’t a major shareholder and not serving on the board, so he had no control of decision-making. Second, he had been buying the same stock for years. And third, he wasn’t officially tipped off on when to buy or sell. He was all about gut instinct. When he finally did sell, he was a multi-millionaire in the early eighties. From there, he invested as a minority partner in smaller oil firms’ explorations, and put the rest into aircraft manufacturing. He would always say the Gorber’s have oil and risk-taking flowing through our blood.”

“That’s incredible. And what was he like?”

“He was a good father, if that’s what you’re asking. He traveled a lot, but tried to be there for the big milestones. There are some shorter articles about him being a bit of a ladies’ man in the eighties.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. And he’s been married three times.”

“That explains a lot.”

“I think your mom was his second wife. My mom was his third, and she had her hands full with him. I don’t believe he had any kids in his first marriage. At least, he never confessed to it, and no one ever showed up out of the blue.”

“That’s crazy. So what did he enjoy doing?”

“He loved golf, the oil business, and his family.”

“Did he have other siblings?”

“Yes. Four tough brothers in New York. All reasonably successful. I met two of them at Dad’s funeral. And I had spent a summer with another back when I was a teen. You’ve got a lot of second and third cousins up north. Well, we do.”

“Some of them must know about me…”

“Maybe.”

“What do you remember most about him?”

“I’ll tell you two things. One thing that I loved about him, and the other that I hated. I hated that he had no appreciation for the arts or philanthropy. One example. A classic. I had asked him to make a contribution to my symphony a couple years back, right? You know what he said to me? He said,
What’s the ROI, Max? Tell me the ROI.
I mean, it’s a miracle I learned to play at all. Thank goodness my mother balanced him out. And he never gave to causes. The man would probably only donate to the poor if they were standing right in front of him. He had it tough growing up, so he showed no pity to anyone who couldn’t rise above their bad circumstances. No empathy there at all.”

“But in the same vein, he treated his employees like gold. And anyone who showed the smallest bit of motivation, he supported them like they were his kids. I’m surprised his will didn’t have a clause about the company staff, to be honest. You would have gotten a kick out of this. Over five hundred of his workers wailed at his funeral. They couldn’t say enough good things about him. All in all, he wasn’t perfect, but he was a good man.”

I paused, thinking about everything Max said. I still couldn’t shake the burning question. “Why did they keep me from him? I know you don’t have that answer, but God, why did I have to find out about him after he was gone?”

He didn’t answer. I didn’t expect him to. I’m sure he had asked himself the same thing a few times more than I did, given he learned about me on from his dying father. Our father. He rested a hand on my shoulder, and there wasn’t anything more that needed to be said.

“We should probably head out for some dinner, don’t you think?”

“Yeah. Yes.”

“Are the ladies coming along?”

“Let me text them and see.”

I sent a message to Leslie and she answered a few minutes later that they were still out shopping. She asked if we’d wait an hour for them.

“Can we hang tight for an hour or so?”

“Sure. Want to come try your hand at poker with me and my buddies in the meantime? It’s a lot of fun!”

“Thanks man. I play a mean game, but I’m not—I didn’t really budget for that on this trip.”

“Sheesh, you keep forgetting, Drew. Money’s not an issue. Just charge it to the room, bro. What, do you need some cash to walk around with?”

He got up and went to his master bedroom and came back with a large, legal-size envelope. It was one of those black plastic ones that expanded at the bottom, with the button-and-string closure; something I saw often at the station. He handed it to me, but I couldn’t take it.

“No man, I can’t take money from you like that.”

“Come on, Drew. This is half yours. At least. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

He held out the envelope until I reluctantly took it.

“Alright. But I’m paying all of this back.”

“Suit yourself, Drew.”

I peaked in the envelope. There was a thick wad of hundred dollar bills and several stacks of Caesar’s Casino chips. I pulled one out. Each chip had a five hundred dollar value to it. There had to be over one hundred thousand dollars in that envelope, in chips alone. That was a heck of a lot more than what I earned at the station.

“Oh, wait. There’s one more thing. Just a second.”

He hurried back to his room for a moment and returned with what looked like two identical business suits in dry cleaning suit bags.

“I think we’re the same size. Here, put this on. Now let’s go kick some poker ass.”

***

Agreeing to go along with Max’s idea turned out to be brilliant. Until then, I had never played poker for real money. From the second we sat at the private table with Max’s friends, the poker Gods smiled down on me. Either that, or those men had sorry ass poker faces. I had nothing to lose, so I bet more than I folded, was aggressive when it came time to lead the hand, and never chased the pot.

By the time we had finished playing for an hour, I think I doubled or close to tripled what had originally been in the envelope. Max was more upbeat about the fact that I had beat his buddies.

“You handed out a serious ass-whooping at the table, big brother. I could learn a thing or two about Texas Hold ’em from you.”

“That was probably beginner’s luck. I’ve never played for real cash, and I don’t think I ever will.” 

“Why not? You were great back there.”

“When it hit me that I was playing for real money, I was sweating bullets.”

“Shit. I thought that was part of the act, Drew.”

I held out the envelope to hand it to him and he put a hand up to refuse it.

“There’s no way I’m taking any of it back, Drew.”

“It’s your money.”

“You won most of it fair and square. Keep it.”

“I can’t Max. I just—I can’t.”

“Well, just give it to that guy over there,” he said, pointing to a random man walking towards us in the distance. “I’m sure he’ll accept it.”

“Come on, Max.”

“No, Drew. Take it. I’ve got another two envelopes just like that upstairs. I play poker when I’m in Vegas. I win sometimes, I lose sometimes. But that money in the envelope is mostly yours. You sat at the table and played like the devil. It was a real treat to watch. That alone was worth it.”

He insisted so I just gave up and kept it. Some of what he said made sense, but the contents of the envelope was more than anything I had or expected to have, given the outcome of the divorce. So I swallowed my pride and accepted it.

“So Drew, why do you carry all this cash in a regular envelope like this? Isn’t there a case you could use? Something more…sleek?”

“Whoa, buddy. No. That’s something I learned from Dad. Bright shiny objects are no good when you’re carrying that kind of money. It’s best to be low key and hide it in plain sight. Don’t worry, grasshopper,” he joked. “I’ll teach you how we billionaires roll.”

Leslie

We met Drew and Max on time, showing off our new dresses, and had a lovely dinner at a nearby seafood restaurant. Max and Drew looked exactly alike. It was surreal, seeing them dressed in similar suits, and with matching smiles and dashing good looks. Max invited the three of us to a helicopter tour of the Hoover Dam and Grand Canyon the next day. There was more than enough time to make the tour and be back for our flights home, so we excitedly agreed. 

I was sadly disappointed when I realized we had missed the start time of Celine Dion’s show, but Max mentioned he knew her well, through his symphony acquaintances—how crazy was that!—and promised he would make an introduction the next time we were in Vegas. I made a mental note to make sure I made it back, even if it was just to meet her.

The four of us left the restaurant and took a short limo ride with Max to one of the popular magic shows on the Strip. While Monica made casual conversation with Max, Drew and I caught up on how our days went. He looked so good, all I could think about was what we had done in the limo last night. I was tempted to lean up and kiss his lips, but he was being a gentleman as we weren’t alone, so I did what I could to keep my hands, and lips, to myself.

After the show, we ended up at the LAX nightclub inside the Luxor. The place was pretty classy, the music was pumping, and I finally had a little alone time with Drew, if you could call being seductively pinned against a wall with a thousand party goers around you, being alone.

He pressed his lips to mine and the vibration of the bass compounded through our eager kiss. I was wet with need before I knew it, and told him I wanted him, practically begging him to take me back to the room before Monica or Max could notice we were gone. I felt bad as we were leaving, but as I looked around for them, I saw they were surrounded by men and women all wanting to rock their hips with them. Standing together the way they were, they were showstoppers.

We hailed a cab outside and before long, were furiously stripping off each other’s clothes in Max’s living room. Drew lifted me up in his arms and carried me to his bedroom.

***

Drew

I woke up on Sunday morning, and looked over at Leslie as she slept. I had promised myself I would tell her everything before the trip was over, and that time was here. Breakfast. We would talk over breakfast, and she would have the day to think it through before the three of us flew back to Las Vegas. Max needed to meet with his reality show producers, so he was returning to Dallas on a flight during the week.

As I looked out the window to start crafting my explanation, Leslie pulled me back into bed.

“Good morning, sexy,” I whispered, accepting her kiss.

“Morning.”

“Slept well?”

“Yes, when we weren’t busy not sleeping,” she teased.

“Want to do some more
not sleeping
?”

“Why do you think I pulled you back in bed?” Her voice was soft and sultry.

“Mmmm,” I moaned as I pulled her on top of me and kissed her deeply. “I think I can try to figure that out.”

“Good, baby,” she said as she lifted herself up and reached her hand underneath her to free my cock. Seeing her act this boldly, this sure of herself, it was all I needed to make me hard. I reached up to her breasts and massaged them with both hands, thumbing over her hardened nipples as she lowered herself down my shaft.

Her moans grew louder, and she arched her neck backwards as she rocked her hips to feel me deep inside. Her hands trailed over my ripped torso, sending my desire into overdrive. I pulled her shoulders down to me and my lips finally found hers again for a fierce kiss. My tongue glided down her neck, biting gently on her collarbone as she bucked her hips harder to hit that spot that made her scream.

My lips reached her nipple and I blew a soft breath before latching to her hardened buds. She melting against my every move. Her hands snaked around to my back, and I could feel she was close to coming. Her hips moved wildly now, and her clit rubbed against my lower abs. I grasped her ass cheeks and pulled her hard toward me and her body quaked through her orgasm. The walls of her channel rippled and tightened against my shaft, and as she came, she unleashed my climax. I gave two sharp thrusts inside her. and flooded her with my hot release.

Her body relaxed, but after a few minutes she started to rock her hips again. She wanted more. And I did too. I cradled her back and turned her over.

“Tell me what you want, Leslie.”

She groaned but didn’t say anything.

“Say the word,” I ordered, gently kissing her on one corner of her mouth and trailing to the other corner.

“Please,” she whimpered.

“Please what? Beg me.”

She moaned. “Please…Please…Drew.”

“Please, what?” I pulled out and held my cock at her entrance, staring into her dreamy eyes. “What do you want me to do?”

“Please fuck me,” she moaned, gripping me at the hips.

“How do you want me to fuck you Leslie?”

“Over there,” she answered, pointing weakly at the sun-lit, floor-to-ceiling windows of my room. I didn’t expect her to ask for that, but if it was what she wanted, I had no qualms about helping her live out her Vegas voyeurism fantasy.

I got off the bed and picked her up. She was still weak and gathering her strength. I carried her to the windows and lowered her to stand before pressing her up against it.

She tugged at my shoulder when I spread her legs and dropped to my knees. “No, Drew. I want your cock inside me right now. Please.”

I stood up and gave her what she begged for. I picked her up again, gently resting her back against the window. She her wrapped her legs around my hips, nudging her hot pussy against my throbbing cock.

“Please come inside me now,” she whispered her soft demands.

With a strong thrust, I filled her, impaling her to the root.  She hissed and wrapped her arms around my neck, finding the support she needed as I drove into her softness and got closer to another crescendo. She used her torso to lift herself up and down my shaft, grinding down harder every time. I reached a hand around the back of her head and stroked the hair at the base of her neck.

“Oh God,” she cried, pressing back against the window as I eagerly pushing her to her brink. Her body tensed up and seized as she came again.

“Yes, Drew…” she whimpered, her tender voice helping me to my own release.

I kissed her as my guttural groans howled out, possessing her through and through until I exploded into her. Her body slumped into mine, arms clinging to me as she molded to my body. We were both panting when I carried her back to bed and fell in beside her.

***

I opened my eyes and most of the morning had already gone by. Max had mentioned we needed to be ready by noon for the helicopter tour, so I ordered room service, had a shower, then came back to wake Leslie. I was avoiding the inevitable. If I allowed another day pass without telling her, things would only be worse.

“Leslie.”

I shook her shoulder gently when she didn’t answer.

“Leslie, you’ve got to get up now.”

She turned slowly toward me. “Hey.”

“Hi gorgeous. We need to get ready.”

She woke up stretching from another short sleep. She smiled and wrapped her hand around my chest.

She then pulled back and her eyes raked over me. “You look so sexy, Drew. I can’t look at those abs without getting aroused.”

I didn’t know what had come over her, but I loved it. Overnight, she had become a sex goddess who couldn’t get enough of me.

I laughed, suddenly feeling a little nervous. “I’m not just a piece of meat,” I joked. “Come on, get up. Get in the shower. Breakfast will be here soon.”

She smiled and rolled to her back to sit up. “Hmm… breakfast. Sure. I’m starved, actually.”

After her shower, as she found her clothes and got dressed, her phone rang, but she couldn’t get it out of her purse in time. The voicemail chimed shortly after. She stood beside me and checked the messages, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss me as she listened. Her face suddenly changed as she focused in on the call.

“What’s wrong, Leslie?” My body tensed up with worry.

“Brad.”

“What did that jerk do now?”

“Hear for yourself.”

“Hey, babe. Why aren’t you answering? I thought when you read my text message, you would see how much I miss you… how much I need you. Don’t make me beg. I want to see you again. I love you and I can’t stand being without you. Call me! We need to talk.”

I was angry by the time the call disconnected.

She sighed, shaking her head.

“Your ex is clearly not ready to give up.”

“I don’t know what else to tell him. He won’t listen.”

“Maybe I should talk to him,” I offered. He might have kicked my ass once before, but if he was pursuing Leslie with this much persistence, I was willing to be her buffer.

“No, Drew. I think I’ll just make a formal complaint if he keeps it up. Maybe I can file for a restraining order.”

“Whatever you do, you need to be careful. The way he sounds on this voicemail, there’s no telling what he’ll do if you keep ignoring him.”

She nodded and continued dressing.

Breakfast arrived shortly afterward, and as the server brought the rolling trays into our room, Monica wandered in.

“Morning lovebirds,” she sang.

Leslie came out from the bedroom at the sound of her best friend’s voice. “Hi Monica. Have breakfast with us. That’s okay, right Drew?”

I was hoping to talk to Leslie during breakfast, but with Monica around, that wasn’t going to happen anymore. “Definitely. There’s more than enough for the four of us.”

“Thanks!” Monica said, sinking in front of the dishes laid out on the dining table at the far corner of the room. “So what’s the plan for the day, Drew?”

“Well, after we all eat, Max has that tour he’s like us to join him on, and there’ll be maybe a couple of hours before we need to get to our flight back.”

“Sounds like fun,” she answered, helping herself to items on the fruit tray. “Where is Max, anyway?”

“I’m around,” he answered, sauntering out of his bedroom in a robe. “Good morning everyone.”

The four of us ate some breakfast, and the ladies left to get dressed and packed in their rooms. We were getting dangerously close to the end of the trip. Leslie had not demanded to hear anything after we made up on Friday night, and I had not forced the issue. We needed to talk, or it could get too far. The last thing I wanted was for Leslie to hate me for not being upfront with her.