When it comes to the survival of the richest, hundreds have no worth. Thousands are mere pocket change. And millions are nothing more than a beginner’s stepping stone.
But when it comes to blistering hot passion, money doesn’t always speak the language of love. There’s the billionaire boss who falls for her sinfully gorgeous employee. And the rich construction worker whose world changes after a hot encounter with a girl from the other side of the tracks. Dollars can’t be turned to hearts.
Follow the characters of these five intertwined novellas and discover that you can’t put a price tag on romance.
All bets are off when finding love is worth more than millions, and risking it all might just be worth it.
Because in this world… it’s all about the billions, baby…
from The House Always Wins by Catherine Curtis
Well, this is going to be interesting. I’ve never been mistaken for a stripper before. I wonder how many strippers wear $3,000 suits. When I saw her sitting at the bar I could tell she was different. Most women that gorgeous are looking for a sugar daddy. She seemed to be looking for an escape.
I almost walked away, but then her friend left her, and I had to get closer. Part of me wanted to wrap my hand into her long blond waves and taste those ruby lips. Part of me just wanted to save her from my asshole bartender.
Then I sat down and she practically requested I fuck her. Well, she requested a man who would be interested in giving her an orgasm. Same difference. I was about to tell her she was in luck when she brought up the bathtub. It was the perfect opening.
But she thought it was a line. And she thought I was a stripper. And apparently a stripper is a better option than, well, me.
How the fuck I’m going to keep this charade going, I have no idea. I just know that I’m not going to give up until I have her naked under me. She is going to get that orgasm, several if she will sober up. Which means we need food.
When we make it outside the bar I catch a glimpse of Matthew across the floor and when he sees me he starts in my direction. Shit. In about 15 seconds my days as a stripper will be over. I pull my phone from my pocket.
“Excuse me for a minute. I just need to check in. I’ll just be right over here.”
I’m not sure the beautiful blonde in front of me will really wait, but if Matthew starts talking it will all be over, so this seems like my only chance. I pull up his name and press call and watch to see if he will pick up. When he pulls out his phone I can see the confusion in the deep crease of his forehead, but he at least stops to answer.
“I need you to do something.” I start before he has a chance to ask any questions. “See the blonde in front of me? Her name is Layla. I need you to find out what room she is in. Then I need you to upgrade her to a suite. Whichever has the biggest bathtub.”
“OK.” He raises and eyebrow in my direction. “Is there a reason you are telling me this over the phone?”
I turn around and catch Layla watching me. Her cheeks flush a pretty pink and she drops her eyes to the floor. So fucking beautiful. I will have this woman. Tonight. I turn away from them both and continue my conversation to the wall.
“Because she can’t know it’s me. Make something up. Broken water pipe. Cable’s out. I don’t fucking care. Just move her and tell her it’s compliments of the house.”
“Ummm. Giant bathtub. Got it.”
He may think I’m insane but he’s not going to call me on it. He’s worked for me too long.
I almost walked away, but then her friend left her, and I had to get closer. Part of me wanted to wrap my hand into her long blond waves and taste those ruby lips. Part of me just wanted to save her from my asshole bartender.
Then I sat down and she practically requested I fuck her. Well, she requested a man who would be interested in giving her an orgasm. Same difference. I was about to tell her she was in luck when she brought up the bathtub. It was the perfect opening.
But she thought it was a line. And she thought I was a stripper. And apparently a stripper is a better option than, well, me.
How the fuck I’m going to keep this charade going, I have no idea. I just know that I’m not going to give up until I have her naked under me. She is going to get that orgasm, several if she will sober up. Which means we need food.
When we make it outside the bar I catch a glimpse of Matthew across the floor and when he sees me he starts in my direction. Shit. In about 15 seconds my days as a stripper will be over. I pull my phone from my pocket.
“Excuse me for a minute. I just need to check in. I’ll just be right over here.”
I’m not sure the beautiful blonde in front of me will really wait, but if Matthew starts talking it will all be over, so this seems like my only chance. I pull up his name and press call and watch to see if he will pick up. When he pulls out his phone I can see the confusion in the deep crease of his forehead, but he at least stops to answer.
“I need you to do something.” I start before he has a chance to ask any questions. “See the blonde in front of me? Her name is Layla. I need you to find out what room she is in. Then I need you to upgrade her to a suite. Whichever has the biggest bathtub.”
“OK.” He raises and eyebrow in my direction. “Is there a reason you are telling me this over the phone?”
I turn around and catch Layla watching me. Her cheeks flush a pretty pink and she drops her eyes to the floor. So fucking beautiful. I will have this woman. Tonight. I turn away from them both and continue my conversation to the wall.
“Because she can’t know it’s me. Make something up. Broken water pipe. Cable’s out. I don’t fucking care. Just move her and tell her it’s compliments of the house.”
“Ummm. Giant bathtub. Got it.”
He may think I’m insane but he’s not going to call me on it. He’s worked for me too long.
💕 Always double-check the price before you buy 💕
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