Billionaire's Seduction: BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE (Alpha Billionaire Romance Collection) (BBW Pregnancy Marriage of Convenience)

Billionaire's Seduction: BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE (Alpha Billionaire Romance Collection) (BBW Pregnancy Marriage of Convenience) by Betsy Poole Page B

Book: Billionaire's Seduction: BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE (Alpha Billionaire Romance Collection) (BBW Pregnancy Marriage of Convenience) by Betsy Poole Read Free Book Online
Authors: Betsy Poole
could just go in the corner or something?”
    “What are you sick, man? We’ve gotta work here,” this coming from a guy who just told me he burns people alive in this building. ”Like I said, just hold it.”
    I was hooded again and stood up by the two sets of gentle hands that originally led me into the building.
    “Hey, man, could you tell Junior something for me when you get back home?” He said, his voice seeming to come from a long distance away from me.
    “Sure.”
    “Tell Junior that if he don’t shut down those labs he’s running, I’m going to come up there and cut off his dick and make him eat it. You make sure to tell him that.”
    “Yeah, will do.”

The ride back to the liquor store was just as long a drive out to the warehouse, and I can tell you, with as full as my bladder was, I think I may have preferred the bruiser had hack me up opposed to having to feel my guts sloshing around for an hour. The van dumped me in front of the liquor store and I dashed in and asked the cashier of I could use the toilet, and he, of course, told me that the bathroom was for employees only. So I did the only thing I could do, I dashed around the back of the store, unzipped and let it fly.
    While I was pissing, a little old black lady came up to me bundled up in three different soled and stinking coats despite the 100 degree temperatures. She stared right at my business the entire time until I finally acknowledged her and she asked me for a dollar.
    With my dick still in my hand, I fished around in my pockets and shoved a couple of twenties into her dirty hands.

With the cartel contacts being a dead end, I had to turn my attention to The Stills family out in Carefree.
    Honestly, I should’ve just packed my bags and headed home after my meet up with Junior’s cartel boys, but I knew the real reason Junior sent me out here was to establish a connection with whoever was manufacturing the green drug, and my best bet was the Stills, especially since I discovered that young Michael was not only a doper, but also a chemistry major who most likely had the know-how and the ability to create the drug. I knew it was a long shot that his parents would have any knowledge that their kid was involved with drugs of any kind—the parents are always the last to know in these kind of situations—but it was worth a shot. Besides, at the very least they could maybe point me in the direction of friend’s who might still be in the area, and maybe those kids would know a thing or two.
    But first, I needed to unwind a little bit. After killing the entire stock of booze in my minibar—screw it, Junior was picking up the tab, so I might as well swill the $16 mini-bottles of Grey Goose—and then decided to head down to the pool/bar area of the Valley Ho. I, course, hadn’t brought any swim trunks, so there was no way I was going to be climbing into the pool, but the bar was still swarming with hard bodies. And, of course, I was wearing an Armani suit, which reeked of cash to throw around, so I thought my chances of hooking up were pretty high. In fact, I was 100% sure I would be bringing back a young lady back to my room.
    The pool was just as jumping as the day I checked in, and I immediately hit bar. I decided to stick with vodka since that was what I’d started out with back in my room. $24 for a Grey Goose martini (By the way, the hotel bar only stocked Grey Goose. It was their well vodka, which was fine by me) and I had them charge it to my room. Within three drinks, an innocent young blonde who was bursting out of her string bikini sat down next to me and started pawing through her thick, slightly damp hair and batting her eyes at me. She was young, and if I had even been remotely close to sober, I would’ve blown her off. You see, I’m not a complete sleaze despite everything I’ve told you so far. I do have standards, and those standards are that I usually only date women my own age. The same rules apply to when I’m just

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