Page 5 of Untouchable Billionaire (The Hardcore Novels: Special Editions #1)

Pulling it out, I sit up and bring it to my eye to focus, then turn it on my subject, snap the last couple of photographs of her shoot, capturing the peacefulness of the moment.

Knowing it won't last, I sigh and lower it to hold in my lap.

Flipping through the pics, I scan the photos.

I got some good action shots, and a few perfect "O" faces.

I smirk. Wish I could have captured her 'Oh my god, you want me to suck that big cock?

' face. That would have been priceless. I chuckle.

She turned out to be an exceptionally fun fuck. I'll need to make sure to tell Adona.

The need to piss asserts itself, so I set the camera on the nightstand next to my phone, then toss the covers over her nakedness, and bend down to pick up the used condoms from the floor.

Her phone is lying next to them. I toss it on the nightstand, too, then go to the bathroom to relieve my bladder and brush my teeth.

When I come back out, I go to the bar, grab a water, then pull up a chair to hydrate while I wait for her to wake, dreading the next part.

She was fun, and as much as I would love to say the words, "Let's do it again.

" I can't. That would be a lie, and I'm not a liar.

I sit in silence, just watching her breathe, knowing the sad reality of my truth is that I don't do repeats.

I twist the top off the bottle of water and take a swig.

It would be so nice if I could just say, 'You were a great fuck, and I really enjoyed myself.

Thanks. Ciao.' Shake her hand, hug each other and leave with smiles plastered across our faces, but that never happens.

I put the top back on and stare at her without seeing her.

They always want to see me again. What can I say?

I smirk. I'm not just a good fuck. I'm a good fucker.

The whole package. I fuck their minds too.

Seduction is a true art form. Augustus taught me that.

I twist the top off, take several long swallows, then put the top back on.

I've had to hone my skill, not having the luxury of time.

I smirk again. They don't even realize I've begun their seduction the moment they enter the studio.

I learned quickly that it isn't always what you say but what you do that makes a woman feel special and works magic on her.

Getting inside her head, penetrating her mind, caressing her there, letting her feel you deep inside her subconscious, playing with her, then calling out her wild side.

All the while, your body language is dominating her from a safe distance, demanding her attention but not overwhelming her with your power.

Slowly giving her a little taste of that power but not commanding her yet.

Umm-hmm. I love that. Nothing is more satisfying than watching them melt before you.

When you start touching, commanding, tasting them, their wildness purrs, and that's when you start taming them.

That's a powerful drug! The look in their eyes when they have reached their limit, the way their bodies wither under you, needing what only you can give them. A screaming orgasm in both their head and their cunt, from your brain and your cock. Ummm. Ain't nothing better than that.

I twist the top off the water bottle, and drink half, and put it back on.

Fuck! I sound like a cocky son of a bitch.

But the brutal, hardcore truth is .... I am that good.

That's the real reason why they get all bent out of shape when they want to see me again, and I tell them I don't. I stare at the raven-haired beauty in the bed, then drain the water bottle and resist the temptation to squeeze it, knowing the noise would wake her.

I twirl the empty bottle around in my fingers instead.

Even though I'm alright with the fucking setup I have, it doesn't mean I'm not lonely and wouldn't enjoy a steady relationship, but I've always known I'm different, and finding someone different like me, is so far off the charts of possible, even a Vegas gambler wouldn't take those odds.

I've never felt that undeniable spark that drives a man to hookup with one woman in a steady, long-term relationship.

I thought I did the first summer I discovered fucking.

I hooked up with a girl whose name I can't even remember now.

I banged and banged and banged her, then banged her some more.

I grin. I thought I was in love, but I wasn't even in lust. I was just a horny teenage boy with an amped-up sex drive who was in love with fucking.

When she returned to college, I moved on.

At first, I tried the whole dating scene, and that was a fiasco.

The drama was off the charts and with no banging to ease the pain.

I chuckle, remembering a conversation I had with my sister, Ann.

"What's wrong with answering, 'Hell yeah!

' when she asks me, 'Does my ass look big in these pants?

' That was a fucking compliment. Not an insult.

" Ann started laughing, and I got pissed off.

"What? It was. She has a big ass, and it's great! "

"Aurei, girls want it curved."

"That's fucking right! I want her ass curved too!"

"No, no."

"Yes, yes!"

"No, Bro. They want the truth curved, not straight line like that."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Girls want you to tell them. 'Your ass is perfect.'"

"I did!"

"No. You told her that her ass was huge!" She rolled off the bed laughing at me.

"It is!" Now I'm laughing too.

"Girls want you to lie to them with the same lies they are telling themselves."

I stopped laughing and thought about that. "Fuck that shit! I ain't no damn liar."

"Well, you don't have to lie, really, just learn her language."

I gave her a classic 'what the fuck does that mean' look.

She dies laughing again. "Just never tell another woman as long as you live that their ass looks big, and you'll be ok."

"Ok, but if she wants to know how it looks in those pants, what do I say?"

"Just tell her, her ass is perfect."

"THAT I can do!"

"We'll work on your curved delivery later."

I flipped her off and walked out, then tossed over my shoulder. "I ain't lying!"

I could hear her feet running at me. I braced myself and caught her as she jumped on my back. She dared me. "Last one to the creek is a rotten egg." I threw her off, and we raced to the barn, then on our horses to the creek.

I stand to pace the floor, dreading the music that I'm about to face, then her phone on the nightstand rings, and she sits up, dazed. It rings again, and she looks around. I watch silently as she pats the bed and asks herself in Italian where her phone is.

Hair messy, makeup runny, she looks radiant, but I know better than to grab the camera now and take a picture. She would freak for sure. I answer in English. "It's on the nightstand on your left."

She looks at me like I have grown two heads, so I walk over and pick it up, then hand it to her. Finally, she focuses, then smiles a lazy, satisfied smile up at me. "Grazie, Mister Big Man. What time is it?"

When I tell her, I stand back and get out of the storm's path.

She blinks rapidly as she absorbs this news and logs it mentally into her calendar, then her eyes widen, and a look of sheer panic spreads across her face.

She flings the covers off, begins rattling off in Italian how she is late for a gig, then sprints to the foyer where her clothes are.

As she dresses, she calls her agent back and leaves a message.

"I'm on my way. Do NOT replace me. Ciao. "

I stroll in as she is putting on her coat and pulling her hair out. She stops, eyeing my nakedness, and smiles, then bounces up to me and puckers her lips.

"I have to hurry, Americano, but thank you for that fucking of a lifetime." She giggles as I place my lips on her waiting ones. "Let me give you my digits. We can hook up again, no?"

I'm silent. The moment of straight-line truth is here. It won't do any good or ease the pain if I tell her she was an exceptional fuck and truly fun, so I just shoot her down. "No."

"No?" She stops, blinks rapidly, then backs up with a confused look on her hurried face.

"That's correct. There are no repeats."

"Ugh!" She yells. The shock of being dumped, added to her panic of being late, sends her out the studio door.

She takes the time to slam it with force before she rushes down the stairs, cursing the entire way.

I stroll out to the balcony to watch her run to her car.

She stops on the sidewalk, looks up, shakes her fist at me, and screams one more perfect English parting shot. "You're an asshole!"

"Yeah. I am. Ciao." I tell the sports car as it peels off. "Well, that went better than usual," I tell the empty studio as I walk back in. Picking up my camera, I take the digital card from it, mark it, then walk through the bedroom to my editing island and put it in the hard drive to upload.

Walking back to the bed, I flop down, pull the pillow under my head, and grab my phone. I call Darren.

"Aurei! Hey, Bro. What's happening?"

"Ah. Not a whole helluva lot. What's up with you?"

"An investment opportunity has come calling."

"Give me the pitch."

"A few years back, I was talking to a Frat brother who owns Been Jammin' in Vegas.

He told me he had discovered a dancer who had an unusual idea that turned out to be a gold mine.

He called her his million-dollar baby and that she was a bonafide superstar.

I told him if he came across another opportunity like that one to give me a call. " He pauses. "He called yesterday."

"I'm listening," I tell him.

"This same dancer has been offering a niche service for a select few, very exclusive clientele for years, and she has some serious repeat offenders.

She came to him with the idea of expansion a few months ago because it's growing faster than she can keep up with and maintain her other obligations. " He pauses again.

"I'm listening. What is it?"

"She calls it 'Fucking Fantasies.'" He pauses for effect.

I nod my head at the boldness of the title. "Wow. That's straight line. I'm all ears now."

Darren chuckles. "Bart said anything this girl does makes money.

She's like a money magnet, and a business guru all rolled into one.

He says she is really intelligent and has an intuitiveness that's impressive, but he didn't go into the nitty-gritty of what she actually offers in this niche service.

He's keeping that under lock and key for now.

Since you're familiar with Vegas, I thought you might be interested and have some insight or at the least ask you to find out more for me. Do a little digging. I'm interested."

"Sure. I'll check her out for you. What's her name?"

"Seary. Have you heard of her?"

"Hmm. Can't say that I have, but I don't run in those circles.

I know people who do, though. I can check her out for you.

What's the deal your buddy, Bart, is putting together?

" I put my feet on the floor and my elbows on my knees and listen to the offer as he discusses the details of the deal.

"Sounds like the investment is solid. When do you need an answer on the dancer? "

"Right away. He's gathering the initial capital investors now."

"Ok. I'm actually on Thanksgiving leave at the moment. I'll fly out and evaluate her. I need to touch base on my properties anyway. Do you want me to check in with Bart while I'm there?"

"No. Just spy on her and give me your honest opinion, if you think she's a winner or not, and if you're in or not. I know the deal is a good one."

"Affirmative. I'll let you know by the end of the week."

"Appreciate it."

"No problem. Ciao."

I hang up the phone and immediately begin texting my team.

Antonio:

Change of plans. Charter a plane to Vegas as soon as possible.

Mia:

I won't be coming by the office after all. Forward the contracts. I'll review and return them from here. Have you heard anything on the issue in North Dakota? Make sure we don't lose that bid. Also, I want to review the list of charities this year and the dollars allocated for each.

Adona:

Cancel the remainder of the girls. I'm good for now.

Kip:

I'll be flying into Vegas in the morning. What are the chances you can get us a couple of tickets into Been Jammin'?

Maria:

I'll be flying in tomorrow. Would sure appreciate it if I discovered some leftovers waiting for me in the refrigerator.

Adona responds first:

Is everything good?

Yes. Leaving Rome. No complaints. She was fun.

Good. I thought you would like her. She is still new to the business. A fresh face. Let me know when you need my services again. You know you are one of my special clients.

Then Kip:

Text me when you're an hour out. I'll pick you up from the airport. Made reservations at the club. Looking forward to the show! Watching strippers never gets old.

Then Antonio:

You'll be flying JetAir. Leaving in two hours.

I update Angelo:

I'm flying out in two hours. Please pick me up at my apartment in 30.

Angelo answers:

Roger that, Boss. On my way now.

Maria sends:

Can't wait to see you! It's been too long. I'll have your favorite waiting. Safe travels.

And last, Mia answers. Her text is a chapter in a book, so I flip through it. Scanning it for anything that must be handled now. Nothing that can't wait until I'm in the air.

I head to the bathroom to shave then shower.

Lathering up, I stroke my face with the razor and think about the concept of a Fucking Fantasy business in Vegas.

All the ideas that come to mind make me realize how uniquely qualified I am to evaluate this particular business venture.

Hasn't that been what I've been doing? Having different kinds of sex with different women, experimenting, and enjoying all they have to offer? I smile at myself in the mirror.

I'm looking forward to learning more about this business opportunity.

I turn the shower on and step in. Sticking my head under the hot water, I close my eyes and think about nothing.

Letting the wet warmth clear my mind and regenerate my body.

When I step out, I get dressed in a pair of comfy gym pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt, then pack, throw on a hoody, and leave the apartment.

Angelo is already waiting on the street for me.