Page 33 of Beauty & Chaos

She kisses me. “You won’t be interested.”

“How do you know? You haven’t asked what I do.” I lift a brow. “Unless you googled me. Which, if you’re a journalist, I guess you did.”

“You guessed right. Travis David Warner. You own the chain of Alliance golf courses across the country. You’re not married, have no children or siblings, and have a net worth of one point five billion. Mostly made up of land, property, and stocks.”

She’s right, the land my golf courses sit on is worth a lot. Many with ocean views and all in prime locations to attract the customer base we have.

“Impressive.” My lips twitch. “What else did you find?”

Suddenly I don’t want her to know about the Alliance Club. It shouldn’t matter because she’ll never connect me with the man I once was, but that isn’t why I don’t want her to know.

Owning an adults-only club comes with its own judgments, and despite the fact I’m lying naked with my cum pouring out her pussy, I don’t want her knowing that place is a part of who I am.

I guess I want her respect.

Weird.

The Alliance Club is not easy to find—membership is by invitation only—but she’s an investigative journalist, so it’s possible she will at some point.

By then, Brook will have done her part in my plan, and I’ll have walked away.

It’s much more important that she doesn’t find out my true identity. She cannot know I am Leo Taylor’s son.

“You’re single, don’t have much of a public profile, and were in your mid-twenties when you created the golf courses.”

“Correct.” I wrap one arm behind my head and lean back against the pillows.

I wait for her to mention the club.

“Pretty boring really.” Her fingers trail down my chest.

“Most women are excited to meet a billionaire. Aren’t you going to ask me to fly you to the Hamptons in a chopper?”

“No, I’ve done that.”

She’s not watching as I smirk.

“Holiday in the Maldives?”

“I prefer to ski.”

“Switzerland then.”

She glances up just before reaching my cock and grins. “That would definitely be a date, so no thanks.”

I grab her hand and place it on my chest, suddenly wondering why she is so against dating. I’d go so far as to say I was worried. “Who hurt you, Brooklyn?”

She pulls away and starts to climb out of bed.

I let her go.

“I’m single, so all of them, obviously.” She laughs while pulling on her dress, and it’s fake as hell.

Am I going to be the next asshole that hurts her?

Another reason to do this fast and not get too close. It’s not what either of us wants.

I tuck my other arm behind my head. “I enjoyed tonight.”