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The Tartan Billionaire
by
Em Taylor
Blurb
The first time I met Calum Stewart, I barrelled into him in a coffee shop. I nearly scalded the poor bloke before he yelled at me and I ran out the shop.
We met a few hours later at a consumer panel. It was his app that I had been testing. His app I’d been slagging off in the queue in front of him at the coffee shop.
He knew I had no money and now he had a proposition for me.
Yeah right. I thought that too.
Seems we’re both wrong about the hunky billionaire.
Soon I was part of his life and sooner still it was all turning to dust.
Can a billionaire really do happily ever after?
We met a few hours later at a consumer panel. It was his app that I had been testing. His app I’d been slagging off in the queue in front of him at the coffee shop.
He knew I had no money and now he had a proposition for me.
Yeah right. I thought that too.
Seems we’re both wrong about the hunky billionaire.
Soon I was part of his life and sooner still it was all turning to dust.
Can a billionaire really do happily ever after?
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Excerpt
Ten minutes later I emerged from the bathroom, in my long flannel pyjamas, bunny slippers and a big terry-towelling robe. My face was clean of makeup and my hair was tied back in a braid. It had been slow going as it always was when I was tired. The simplest of tasks took forever. I was forgetful and would get distracted so easily. Water was running in the kitchen and I went in to see what the noise was.
Calum had his sleeves rolled up and he was doing some of the dishes. He had the dishwasher half stacked but seemed to be washing up as well.
“What are you doing?”
“Dishes.”
“You can’t do that?”
“We need plates and glasses for the pizza and coke.”
“But you’re loading the dishwasher too.”
“Yeah. I was being helpful.”
“Calum, you shouldn’t have to do these things.”
He turned and faced me folding his wet arms across his chest. “And what if I want to do it, Lena? What if I see you’re struggling, don’t have a lot of support and think that a couple of minutes of loading your fucking dishwasher isn’t too much to ask of someone who’s lived a pretty fucking charmed life?”
I stood gaping at him. “But you barely know me.”
“Do I need to know your inside leg measurement and your granny’s maiden name to want to just make your life a wee bit easier, Lena?”
“Why do you want to help me?”
“Because you’re sweet, funny, clever and I get a hard-on just looking at you.”
I snorted. “Okay, so you had one this afternoon, but that could have been caused by anything.”
He took the four steps that separated us in a second and held my hand to the front of his trousers. It was hard as a rock and it was some fucking size too. “This is all on your account. The only reason I’m not doing anything about it is you’re so damned tired, I can’t be sure you’re making a rational decision tonight. Therefore, it’s pizza and Netflix for us and blue balls for me. I’m happy with that, just so I get a bit more time to get to know you.”
“And what if I don’t like you?” I said, petulantly.
“Well baby, I’d wonder that myself, except for the way you're stroking my cock through my clothing.” I looked down and sure enough, I was practically giving the poor sod a hand job. “Best let go or we’ll both be in an awkward state, eh?”
“Sorry.” I let go and bit my lip. He lifted my chin up to him and smiled.
“Never be sorry for doing that. Your hand feels so good on my dick. Now go to bed.”
He used the wet tea towel to swat at my thigh. I squealed though there was no likelihood of any pain since I had layers of clothing on. I hurried to bed anyway. This wasn’t turning out so bad after all.
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Em can be found at:Facebook. https://www.facebook.com/EmTaylorRomance/?fref=ts
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Twitter. @emtaylor_3
Amazon https://www.amazon.co.uk/Em-Taylor/e/B00GVEG83M
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