The Price of Scandal (Bluewater Billionaires)

by Lucy Score

I loved a woman who dressed for her own pleasure. I was as equally attracted to long legs in short shorts as I was to sedate business suits. I had a thing for unbuttoning buttons and revealing what was underneath.

He stepped out and into my space. I stood my ground but made no effort to tear my gaze away from the soapy cock between his muscled thighs. If I had to be murdered in my own home by a naked crazy man, at least he was the embodiment of the perfect male form.

Jane ninja rolled into the bathroom from the terrace, landing in a crouch and pointing her stun gun at the naked man. “Wow.” It was as effusive as Jane got. “Focus more on the criminal aspect than the dick, Jane,”

Her anger was… entertaining. And a little arousing. I’d expected a prim and proper, polite hostess. Finding a temperamental woman instead was a bonus.

Jane was cagey, rude, and unapologetic. I liked her immensely.

By the time I was done cracking her lovely, hard-shelled exterior, I had a feeling the world would be falling for Ms. Emily Stanton. I just had to figure out where exactly she kept her humanity hidden.

“You look excited,” I observed, slipping my phone into the pocket of the lab coat. She bit her lip in adorable nerd-like excitement, and the attraction went from a zing to a thump.

“You can slap me after, I promise,” he said just before his lips brushed mine.

“We can’t do this again,” I told him. “Your advances are officially unwelcome.” “Yes, that’s the message I got loud and clear,” he said lightly. His thumb skimmed under my lip, and he looked at me almost fondly. “Get that look off your face immediately,” I commanded. He grinned and my knees nearly went out from under me. A smiling Derek Price was dangerous, a weapon of mass destruction.

Emily’s only outward tell of her growing frustration was the flaring of her delicate nostrils. I admired her control as much as I craved the opportunity to rattle it.

Oh, yes. If the prim and proper Emily Stanton was tantalizing, this unedited, confident version was irresistible to me. I was going to make a very big mistake, and it was likely going to be quite costly. I’d enjoy every second of it.

Emily looked as though she were about to break her mother’s nose. As a precaution, I took her hand and squeezed. She bared her teeth in what might have passed for a smile. If the individual were stupid. And inebriated. Or face blind.

There was nothing delightful, or even reasonably socially acceptable, regarding my feelings toward her. I wanted to tear her dress from her. To shove my hands into her hair, raining down pins. I wanted to destroy every wall she’d ever built until there was nothing between us. I wanted to watch her come. Watch her let go. Be human. I wanted her to let me possess her.

He didn’t kiss me back like a gentleman. No, Derek Price slammed my back into the front door. A beast off his leash.

“What’s this?” I asked, taking it. I flipped it over in my hand. It was a single dose of Imodium. “Just in case,” he said. “How did you…” “Do you really want to talk about it?” Derek asked, his eyes on the road. “God, no!” I was humiliated. Humbled. And something else. “You can trust me, Emily Stanton, formidable boss, beautiful billionaire, and real live human being.” It wasn’t flowers or a love note but diarrheal medicine that made my heart do a slow, inevitable flip-flop in my chest.

“Antidiarrheals and men’s underwear,” she mused. “You give the most interesting gifts, Price.” “You can buy yourself all the baby-fist-sized diamond pendants in the world, love. I’m wooing you by showing I have your every need covered,”

Champagne and comfort food and a ruined six-thousand-dollar cocktail dress. That was Daisy.

“I’m pretty freaking great, Price.” “In that case, I think we need to schedule a meeting,” he said. “About what?” “About the prospect of a joint venture.” “We’re already fifty-fifty partners.” He squeezed my arms. “Marriage, Emily. I want to marry you.”

I grabbed Trey by the arm, and he took a swing at me. “He swung first,” I said conversationally. And then I plowed my fist into Trey’s washboard abs and followed it with a swift uppercut to his Instagram-famous jaw. He crumpled to the carpet, deflated and defeated. Entirely unsatisfying. “Byron,” I said as I walked past the man. “Price,” he grunted back.

“Calm the fuck down, you fuck,” Byron shouted. A computer monitor flew through the broken glass next. “Now can I?” Jane asked. “Be my guest,” I said, stepping out of her way. I walked out with the delightful sound of Trey’s shrieks and Jane’s maniacal laughter ringing in my ears.

Jane finally got to use her stun gun!

“Are you proposing to me with a prenup? Because if so, I really expected something more stylish.” “You were expecting my proposal?” he asked, eyebrows winging up in innocence. “I woke up two months ago with you measuring my ring finger.”