Home > His Baby, Her Billionaire (Her Billionaire Series, #1)

His Baby, Her Billionaire (Her Billionaire Series, #1)
Author: Sloan Storm

1

 

 

The Destroyer (Dalton)

 

 

“Look at that one.” Mack gave me a half-snort, pointing at the all-girl pickup volleyball game taking place in the sand across from us. We had no idea it was a nude beach when we’d taken up our position an hour earlier. The girls arrived not long after we did. Not too far, but close enough to get an eyeful. With a chuckle, the rest of his thought tumbled out. “One of these things ain’t like the other.”

I pretended to be surprised. Caught off-guard at the free-spirited display of round, pert tits and shapely asses bounding in all directions.

Only I wasn’t.

She caught my attention long before he’d ever said a fucking thing.

And it wasn’t because she flaunted what her momma gave her.

It was because she didn’t.

While the other girls had no qualms about going topless, she kept those beauties hidden away, tantalizing me behind a thin layer of hot pink lycra spandex. Her blond tresses bounced with each step she took, shimmering in the dusky glow of the sun’s dying rays. To my eyes, she was a fair-haired mermaid siren, free and full of fire, like the ocean itself couldn’t contain her spirit.

Zero chance in hell I’d say that to Mack.

Fuck no.

I growled and raked my hand through my hair, struggling to fire off a comeback. Mack gave me a sidelong glance, cutting in before I could choke one out.

“Bet she’s got the sweetest tits of any of ‘em.”

We’d been through it all, Mack and me. From those hellish early days at Coronado, to Afghanistan, Africa, and every other dark and cruel corner of the globe. There wasn’t a place we hadn’t fought, bled, or lost a brother. Always the same. Always together.

Long after our discharge, that still hadn’t changed.

One thing that never got between us though, ever, was a woman. I wasn’t about to let that happen now. Not with three weeks of R&R ahead of us on these sun-drenched Italian beaches. He’d have plenty of chances to get his dick wet, but not with her.

“Don’t worry about it,” I bit off, arching an eyebrow at him. She was mine to claim. “You won’t be finding out.”

Mack eased back in his chair, nudging the blacked-out shades up the bridge of his nose until his pupils disappeared from view.

“That a fact, Destroyer?”

Destroyer, as in Dalton The.

He’d given me the nickname years ago when we were on leave in Thailand. The details don’t really matter. Suffice it to say, it pays to be an American at Chaweng Beach. There was a time when that moniker meant something to me, just like being a SEAL. In some fucked up way it added another useful layer to my identity. Gave me something in adulthood to smooth over the sloppy finger-painting of my misspent youth.

“It is,” I replied, not bothering to correct him. With closed lips, I glided my tongue across my teeth before I continued. “I’ll get a look at those babies before the sun comes up. You can take that to the bank.”

Looking away from him, my gaze snapped her way once more.

Caught her looking.

Eyefucking me again.

Between the places Mack and I traveled, and my wanderlust years spent roaming before that, I’d seen what American girls were capable of when they thought no one was watching. By the looks of things, she was the only red, white, and blue babe among them. Judging by appearances, the rest of them were locals, I guessed. Cute, a couple even worth a second look, but a far cry from her ethereal beauty.

“Mmm, hmm.” Mack gave me a grunt.

“What?”

He didn’t bother to look at me. “I dunno might wanna be careful with that one. Looks like jailbait if you ask me.”

I glanced at her taut curves, imagining how they’d feel on my fingertips. My nostrils flared when I thought of drawing close to her neck, inhaling the scent of sun, sand, and sex for the first time.

“Not worried about it. Anyway, who’s asking you?”

He kept going. “Got a feelin’ that one could be trouble. No piece of ass is worth the millions it might cost you if it goes sideways.”

My face tightened with a grimace. I never shoulda told him about the money. Not that I didn’t trust him with my fucking life, but some secrets are better off kept that way. While he flapped his gums, I kept my eyes glued on my quarry. In all these years, not a single chick had cashed in. Why the hell would this be any different?

“Whatever,” I grumbled.

“We just got here, dude. What’s the rush?” He emphasized his point. “Three weeks. Plenty of time to chase tail.”

“Who said I’m rushing? When the time is right, it’s right.” Between awkward slaps at the volleyball and fits of giggling, she kept glancing my way. It was on. “And anyway, she’s ready.”

He gave me one last shrug. “Your funeral.”

I had to know more about her and wouldn’t take a step off this beach until I did. He could lounge around that five-star palace and his half of the Presidential Suite until the sun came up for all I cared. Lifting my hand to my chin, I stroked the stubble and considered my plan of attack.

Once that volleyball game ended, I’d approach her with a cold one and let the fates take it from there.

 

 

2

 

 

Captain America (Taylor)

 

 

We’d just finished another game when she walked over to me, her heels twisting in the sand with each step.

“Are you having fun?”

I looked at Antonia’s friendly face. A smile tilted the edges of her lips as she fought with a wisp of her windswept, dark hair. She wasn’t a friend though. Not like the ones from back home anyway. I mean, it was a stretch to even call her an acquaintance.

After all, we’d only met twelve days ago.

“Yes.” I returned her genuine smile with a forced one of my own. At least my mouth could still make the motion. “But I think I need a little break. Gonna take a walk.”

Antonia’s hands rested on her hips. “Do you want me to come? Go with you?”

“No, you stay. Have fun. I won’t be long.”

If I was being honest, it was the last place I wanted to be.

She hadn’t mentioned a word about it being a nude beach, only that we’d be playing volleyball, not looking at strange men’s…

Whatever.

I wasn’t surprised. I’d been to my share over the past couple of summers - Spain, Greece, Portugal, and now here. In all that time, I’d never worked up the courage to do it. Sometimes I came close, feeling a strange sense of jealousy at the apparent lack of discomfort others had with their own nakedness.

Or maybe they had plenty of it and just didn’t care.

Growing up around it probably didn’t hurt either.

Only I hadn’t.

The closest warmish beach was nearly a thousand miles from home. Last I checked there weren’t too many nude bodies frolicking in the Snake River, unless the coroner’s office was busy dragging them out.

I fingered my bikini strap for the eleventh time or something.

Should I?

It’s like every time I’d considered it, this image of Mom would flash in my mind. I’d see her running straight for me, an oversized towel fluttering behind her like a cape while she clung to it with a tight-fisted grip. That was right before she’d tackle me to the ground, practically swaddling me with it, like I’d coming running out of a burning building.

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