 by Tory Baker.jpg)
Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 178(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 178(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
When a friend asked me to hire his youngest daughter, I had reservations. Yet, I needed a secretary. So, I said why not. Sometimes being a good guy backfires on you. This is definitely one of those times.
Fawn is younger than me—way too young. She’s also a walking fantasy that tortures me daily with images running through my mind of all the dirty things I want to do to her.
I need her so much I can taste it. I try to resist, but once I see the hunger in her beautiful eyes, it’s over, just like my bachelor days.
She might think I’m playing games. She’s wrong. I’m claiming her as mine…
Forever.
Welcome to the Billionaire Playboys, I know, I know. You're thinking "playboys" no thanks, that’s not for me. That’s okay because that’s not what this series it’s about. It’s about Four Brothers, Parker, Ezra, Boston, and Theo. These Alphas work hard and play harder. Especially when it comes to making their woman fall in love with them. In each story in this series you'll get an Alpha Hero, an independent heroine, and a guaranteed happily ever after.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Prologue
SLY
Two Months Earlier
“Come in,” I tell the closed door of my office. The thick heavy door is a newly welcomed addition, providing quiet from the busy hallway. Employees coming and going, plus the rare appointments I do take waiting outside my walls, as well the constant chatter made it inconducive to talking on the phone with all the noise. My current secretary, Yolanda, is retiring. The woman is older than me by nearly twenty years, can run circles right around me, and is the only person who can boss me around who isn’t family, blood related or not. Yolanda is a damn fine woman, dealing with the shit she does at Sterling & Associates. We’re losing one fuck of a rockstar. Putting up with me is hard on a good day. I’m bitterly aware of my workaholic ways, my singular focus when I’m on and off the clock. Hell, I’ve got a divorce to prove how much I love my job. Winning a high-profile case gives me more than money—it gives me a Goddamn boner.
Which is more than my ex-wife did. Don’t get me wrong; she’s not completely at fault. Being saddled with someone like me is not for the weak minded. Once two people who would scratch an itch, Leslie and I went into our marriage for a mutual benefit. We got married in order for me to make partner at my last practice, and she agreed for the money and prestige that came along with my last name. Three years later, she hated me, and we both grew bitter toward one another. Neither of us was in love with the other, and the sex had long since dried up, as well as the attention Leslie needed and deserved. Our marriage wasn’t worth salvaging. While she enjoyed the benefit of being Mrs. Sterling and the money it came with, Leslie wanted more—more attention, more of a husband that I wasn’t willing to give her, and she wanted the next big dick with more zeros in his bank account than I did at the time. I wasn’t innocent in our relationship. It’s why when I came home with divorce papers, giving her a healthy settlement, a quick divorce, she took it and ran.
My friend Jack Peterson, the one who’s become a traitorous prick with his recent phone call, helped me out when I needed him most. I hadn’t heard from him in years, each of us working in a different area, him as an influential family attorney, me more in the corporate arena. That didn’t stop him from calling in a favor, one I owed him since he wrote an iron-clad divorce settlement, papers so rock solid Leslie couldn’t come crawling back years later crying poor and begging an attorney to take her case and try to squeeze more money out of me. Yeah, I’m a jaded prick. Fucking sue me.
Jack did his job so well that Leslie made out better than most trophy housewives would have, with money and a home in upstate New York. Since she couldn’t call bias and a judge couldn’t either, the minute the ink dried on our divorce papers, I was formulating a new plan entirely. One that included leaving the law office where I crawled my way up from the bottom of the totem pole to the very top. I’m not ashamed to admit I hated walking through the doors every day, hated answering to a boss, and hated the way my skin would crawl with each mandatory meeting. I would much rather work for myself. It was a simple plan that manifested from the ground up, which in turn meant I was starting my own firm. It took twelve years to get Sterling & Associates to where it is today, employing more than one hundred employees. And each one knows my door is open should they ever need to ask for advice on a case or to talk out a problem.
“Mr. Sterling, Fawn Peterson is here for her first day of training.” Yolanda opens the door. I glance away from the files I’m currently combing through on my desk, an acquisition in the works for my friends at Four Brothers. When I look up, she’s not at all who I was expecting. She’s a vision of temptation, a forbidden morsel, and I’ve barely gotten a glimpse at the brunette beauty. Jack, her father and asshole of all assholes, is an average man. His daughter, on the other hand, is not. I stand up from my place behind my desk, chair backing up as I do, and button my jacket, a damn good thing, too. One damn look, and wouldn’t you know it? My cock decides it’s time to make his presence known. Never mind the fact that I jerked off this morning, attempting to tame the beast while allowing the anger at myself for going too long between finding relief in a different sort of way. My schedule makes even an hour of downtime nearly impossible.