Read Online Billionaire Romance Boxed Set (9 Book Bundle) by Julia Kent - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Julia Kent
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accustomed to waking alone, Jill’s side of the bed a cold
place, a sexual Siberia, but he had hoped to find Laura there this morning.
Making her breakfast and having her be his breakfast had been on his
mind as he’d faded off to sleep, cradling her in his arms.
Hopefully, she’d left a note. Maybe she needed to rush off to work. He
understood. It was hard to juggle shifts and bosses and –
His eyes stopped as they landed on a picture of Jill. Hawaii. About
seven years ago. Her skin glistened in her wet suit and she grinned a relaxed,
happy smile as the sun kissed her nose, Mike standing next to her, turned
toward her and showing the camera only his profile, face largely hidden. He was
a good foot taller than petite Jill. Their hair had lightened so much on that
vacation, though Dylan’s dark locks had stayed the same. By the end of the week
Jill and Mike were hooked on surfing, while Dylan…
His thoughts faded as the enormity of Jill’s death hit him. In some
ways, her death was still striking blows. Good ones. $59 million blows a year.
He, unlike Laura, would never have to worry about getting to work on time
again. Man, even letting himself think like that made him queasy. It was a
sick, sick way to become rich – losing your soulmate – and he was
still so angry at something – God? Cancer? Fate? His own helplessness?
– that he just wouldn’t quit the fire station, preferring to act like a
working class slob because until two months ago, that’s exactly what, and who,
he had been.
The masquerade of normalcy was important. Necessary. Especially now
that he was dating Laura. Until he knew she cared for him as the old Dylan
– before the trust fund – he needed to play it cool.
Sitting up, he stretched his arms over his head, willing blood to flow
into his biceps, triceps, popping his elbows and slowly stretching out his
neck. His hips ached just a little, the good kind of ache from a nice, deep,
intense session of lovemaking. He grinned, the smell of her still on his
sheets, her soft skin nearly still there, brushing against his chest. Laura was
soft and sweet and sighed like it was all some kind of dream, as if his touch
were new. He’d been tender with her, but detected a little something extra, a
naughty streak. He’d been right and reveled in the discovery.
If he texted her now would that be seen as too pushy? Too stalkerish?
Who cares .
Grabbing his phone, he dug out her number and texted: So you went
home and all I got was this morning boner. ;)
Silence. Give it five minutes, Dylan , he told himself. Standing,
he let the sunlight stream in through the window and wash over him, his naked
form tight with need. A bottle of lotion and a nice hot shower could kill off
his arousal. Even better, though, would be a date tonight.
Nothing. He knew it seemed way too desperate, but he looked up her
number and dialed. No answer. Not even a voice mail message. That was supremely
weird, because the only reason you couldn’t leave a voice mail on someone’s
phone was if they blocked you.
Cold rushed through his body, his flesh covered with goosebumps in
seconds. Blocked? Why would she block him? He took a really good look around
the room and let himself inhale, then exhale, a few times. Centered, he thought
carefully through the last twenty-four hours.
He had found her online. Asked her out. Scheduled a dinner at the
hottest restaurant in town. Found her attractive and the feeling mutual. Made a
move, invited her over, hand mind-blowing sex ( which he wanted more of )
and had fallen sleep spooned with her in his bed.
Waking up, he was alone. He texted her. He called her – and now
it appeared she had blocked him.
Blocked?
That had to be a mistake. He called again. It rang twenty-eight times
before he hung up. Where was Mike? Oh, that’s right – at his cabin. He
had decided to clear out so Dylan could have alone time with Laura. Except now
Dylan had tons of alone time – with himself. Not the
place, a sexual Siberia, but he had hoped to find Laura there this morning.
Making her breakfast and having her be his breakfast had been on his
mind as he’d faded off to sleep, cradling her in his arms.
Hopefully, she’d left a note. Maybe she needed to rush off to work. He
understood. It was hard to juggle shifts and bosses and –
His eyes stopped as they landed on a picture of Jill. Hawaii. About
seven years ago. Her skin glistened in her wet suit and she grinned a relaxed,
happy smile as the sun kissed her nose, Mike standing next to her, turned
toward her and showing the camera only his profile, face largely hidden. He was
a good foot taller than petite Jill. Their hair had lightened so much on that
vacation, though Dylan’s dark locks had stayed the same. By the end of the week
Jill and Mike were hooked on surfing, while Dylan…
His thoughts faded as the enormity of Jill’s death hit him. In some
ways, her death was still striking blows. Good ones. $59 million blows a year.
He, unlike Laura, would never have to worry about getting to work on time
again. Man, even letting himself think like that made him queasy. It was a
sick, sick way to become rich – losing your soulmate – and he was
still so angry at something – God? Cancer? Fate? His own helplessness?
– that he just wouldn’t quit the fire station, preferring to act like a
working class slob because until two months ago, that’s exactly what, and who,
he had been.
The masquerade of normalcy was important. Necessary. Especially now
that he was dating Laura. Until he knew she cared for him as the old Dylan
– before the trust fund – he needed to play it cool.
Sitting up, he stretched his arms over his head, willing blood to flow
into his biceps, triceps, popping his elbows and slowly stretching out his
neck. His hips ached just a little, the good kind of ache from a nice, deep,
intense session of lovemaking. He grinned, the smell of her still on his
sheets, her soft skin nearly still there, brushing against his chest. Laura was
soft and sweet and sighed like it was all some kind of dream, as if his touch
were new. He’d been tender with her, but detected a little something extra, a
naughty streak. He’d been right and reveled in the discovery.
If he texted her now would that be seen as too pushy? Too stalkerish?
Who cares .
Grabbing his phone, he dug out her number and texted: So you went
home and all I got was this morning boner. ;)
Silence. Give it five minutes, Dylan , he told himself. Standing,
he let the sunlight stream in through the window and wash over him, his naked
form tight with need. A bottle of lotion and a nice hot shower could kill off
his arousal. Even better, though, would be a date tonight.
Nothing. He knew it seemed way too desperate, but he looked up her
number and dialed. No answer. Not even a voice mail message. That was supremely
weird, because the only reason you couldn’t leave a voice mail on someone’s
phone was if they blocked you.
Cold rushed through his body, his flesh covered with goosebumps in
seconds. Blocked? Why would she block him? He took a really good look around
the room and let himself inhale, then exhale, a few times. Centered, he thought
carefully through the last twenty-four hours.
He had found her online. Asked her out. Scheduled a dinner at the
hottest restaurant in town. Found her attractive and the feeling mutual. Made a
move, invited her over, hand mind-blowing sex ( which he wanted more of )
and had fallen sleep spooned with her in his bed.
Waking up, he was alone. He texted her. He called her – and now
it appeared she had blocked him.
Blocked?
That had to be a mistake. He called again. It rang twenty-eight times
before he hung up. Where was Mike? Oh, that’s right – at his cabin. He
had decided to clear out so Dylan could have alone time with Laura. Except now
Dylan had tons of alone time – with himself. Not the
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