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Mr. Untouchable (Billionaires #2)

Mr. Untouchable (Billionaires #2)

Margarette Grey

Update: 2020-09-19

Chapter 1

  • Prologue
  • SCARLET
  • No one ever really showed they cared about me. I’m still my mother’s daughter. Here I was sitting alone at a corner, in a crowd of people I didn’t know, watching my mother and her new husband having their first dance.
  • She seemed happy; she deserved to be, because my father, who was supposed to take care of her, had left her. I didn’t even know what he looked like; he left Mom when I was conceived and we’d heard nothing about him since. Mom absolutely deserved happiness with someone who’d take care of her for the rest of her life. I was happy for her.
  • But why was I not happy for myself?
  • I’d thought my life would change because I would finally have a new family, but I was wrong. My stepbrother didn’t seem to like me at all.
  • His name was Lucas Alejandro—the only son of Thomas Alejandro, the billionaire owner of Alejandro Technologies. Luke was eight years older than me, and I thought that maybe we could not get along because of the large age gap. When Mom introduced me to him before the wedding ceremony, he ignored me as if I was invisible.
  • I spotted him—my twenty-six-year-old stepbrother—now sitting alone by the bar as he watched our parents dance. I could admit that he was probably the most handsome man I’d ever laid eyes on.
  • He had dark hair and compelling gray eyes, looking very formal and regal in his blue suit, pristine white shirt, and silver tie. He’d been his father’s best man today. Right now, he had a glass of liquor in his hand.
  • Maybe I should talk to him? We were family now, right? Even though I knew I wouldn’t live with them because I was flying out for Harvard tomorrow.
  • My heart almost jumped out of my chest when his gaze shifted to me and he caught my eyes. I felt suddenly warm inside, but my skin felt incredibly cold. I was confused by it.
  • I tried to smile back at him in return, and Luke was unsmiling but holding my gaze—then he sipped on his liquor. My cheeks heated, but a blonde woman approached him and his attention diverted to her.
  • I slipped another glance at the woman; she was definitely closer to Luke’s age. She was tall, super pretty, mature, and sexy. Was she his girlfriend? Was that the kind of woman he liked?
  • Wait, wait. Why did I care? I was not supposed to think like this towards my stepbrother.
  • God, but why was my heart disappointed at that? Was I getting a crush on him now?
  • I shook my head.
  • No. I wouldn’t see him at all for the next couple of years. After all, his father was sending me to Harvard and would support my education there. What more could I ask?
  • Well. Good luck to me.
  • LUKE
  • Cambridge was nothing more than the place my father threw me to spend the next three months of life. It was where I’d lost everything that shined brightly before my eyes, where I’d built my dreams that had then shattered into a thousand pieces.
  • Every friend I used to have in this dump was now an enemy. This was where “loyalty” and “compassion” were ripped from me.
  • To deal with everything once more, I should at least enjoy myself in every possible way. I’d booked a suite at the Ritz Carlton, where I was leaning on the bed, tangling my fingers in the hair of a woman devouring my shaft.
  • She was teasingly sliding her tongue around my tip. “Do you want it like this?” She looked up at me. I groaned and didn’t answer. I pushed her head down as she pressed her lips to cover my entire length. Over the past three hours, I’d bent her over the table and fucked her relentlessly.
  • It was satisfying, yes, but in the next few days, I’d have to find someone else.
  • And then she took me in her mouth again. The pleasure was building up in me; my legs stiffened and my body was telling me to let go. I slightly pushed her head to move her away, but she didn’t move. She went down deeper and sucked me harder. I scowled and tried to pull her off again, but it was too late. Thick spurts of my cock exploded into her mouth.
  • She looked at me hungrily, and then she swallowed every last drop.
  • Not bad.
  • When she was finally moving away, I sprang up and zipped my pants.
  • “It’s my first time swallowing, you know,” she informed me.
  • “You shouldn’t have,” I said coldly. I need to go.
  • “Shall we have dinner and then go on with a few rounds?”
  • I raised an eyebrow, confused. “I told you I never fucked a woman twice, but I did agree to sex that’ll make you forget every man who’d ever had your pussy.”
  • That was how exactly women wanted it to start. A senseless conversation, some sex, and at the end of the day she would begin to think there was something more. I was done with that.
  • “Can’t you consider since we’ve been talking for a few days? Examination week is coming, and I have no time to open my account to chat with you.”
  • Right, yes. I met her on Meet and Greet, an online dating site. Her profile said she was a professor at a university.
  • “No, thanks. I need to go somewhere else.”
  • “Hmm, why don’t we just tell each other something real? My real name’s Chloe, not Anna. I’m not a professor but an undergraduate from Boston University. I’m not really from Harvard. I drove several hours just to meet you, and I don’t give my real name to a stranger.” She smiled sheepishly as if her lies were something to brag about.
  • “What, you just screw with them, is that it?” I shook my head in disbelief. The fact that she lied about her name and school was a major turn off. “Are you going to stay here, or do you need fare for the cab?”
  • “How dare you?” She cursed at me, her voice rising.
  • “Is there something wrong with my question?”
  • “Wow...” She shook her head. “Someday, you’ll regret doing this.”
  • “Regret doing what?”
  • “This. Wasting a woman’s time, trying to look interested, fuck her, and then moving on to the next.”
  • “I never gave false hopes.” Where’s my wallet? Damn it.
  • “One day, you’ll get a taste of your own medicine,” she continued.
  • Oh, there it is. “You know what, Chloe, or whatever your name is, I don’t give a fuck what you think about my future.”
  • ***
  • YEARS AGO, this dumpsite was my favorite place. It was where I dreamt, hoped, fell in love, and spent days with the people I trusted. I created my own world with the people I loved, but all of it ended up a broken dream when I discovered the person I loved the most was fucking another man.
  • I wasn’t a dramatic kind of person—well, I was. I was sentimental, compassionate, and considerate—which I now despised about myself.
  • Fortunately, I was able to regain half of myself when Dad remarried. My stepmother, Gene, was a bit unacceptable at first. However, she showed me that I could trust another person other than Jake or Aries. And to end this fucking overview of my life, I liked the person I’d become. At least no one would dare get inside me again, see through me, and break my trust.
  • I’d been looking online for a woman to screw since last year. I found it entertaining and interesting, knowing that I could choose whoever I want to screw without commitments. I never trusted a woman online—all I wanted was their wet core.
  • I scrolled through my inbox and checked if I had emails from any women I might be able to meet this weekend.
  • I deleted the other uninteresting messages, especially fake profiles. Then, another email popped up. The message was from Ericka, and the only email I kept in my inbox for some compelling reason. She was twenty-eight, a Harvard graduate, working in an IT company in Cambridge. We’d been sending senseless emails for three months. She was fun to talk to, and she was sexy as fuck when she started the dirty talk.
  • I opened her message.
  • Subject: I need help
  • I need help with deleting your unlimited messages. What is this all about? There are tons of women to find in this app, and you’re supposed to be with one because it’s Saturday and yet here you are, interrupting me in the middle of my meditation. I badly need to loosen up since I’m supposed to finish my new Esri’s ArcGIS API-based project, but I’ve hardly started and your messages keep popping on my screen.
  • - Ericka
  • _________________________________________
  • Subject: Re: I need help
  • Well, I was waiting for you to finally open your account to tell you that I’m in Cambridge right now, just a few steps away from you.
  • Maybe this is the right time to finally show up. You’ve been teasing me for three months with your smart mouth.
  • Now, will you tell me where you are so we could talk face to face?
  • - Jax
  • _________________________________________
  • Subject: Re: Re: I need help
  • Well Jax, I already told you that I’m sharing a room with someone. There’s no chance we could meet. However, even if I’m alone, I don’t plan on revealing my face. It’s against my rules. I never meet a man from online.
  • - Ericka
  • Damn it. I tossed the phone on the bed. We met through an app, Pro-Express Chat, founded at Harvard. It was a simple social networking application that only allowed the user to chat anonymously. No profile pictures, feeds, comment boxes, or even blogs. Nothing. Just an inbox and a few details such as name and age, gender, relationship status, and occupation.
  • Every user must be a professional and a graduate of Harvard. Exclusively, you must be invited by the admins to be able to register. Either you were a doctor, professor, architect, artist, or a CEO (like me). I never wanted to try the app, but since I don’t mix any of my personal shit anymore, only interested in hard sex, I gave it a try.
  • The app was intended for professional chat only, but I say, screw the rules. My one protocol was to get their personal number so I could call them.
  • And I had Ericka’s number.
  • “Why don’t you just give me your address and your real name? I’m tired of just talking to you over the phone.”
  • She laughed deliciously. I just liked hearing her voice. “We’ll never meet. It’s impossible. Besides, I’m busy.”
  • “I don’t care anymore about your excuses. Would you like to know my address and my name? I just moved in.”
  • “I don’t know why you’re in Cambridge right now, but I’m not interested. I can’t lose a friend when all you ever want is one night. You’re going to throw me away, just like the others.”
  • “I’m very sure that it won’t be just one night for us,” I admitted. “I can make an exception since you’ve earned my trust.”
  • “Oh, really? This should be good.”
  • “Yes, so what is it? Tell me? I’ll be willing to come and get you.”
  • “I don’t think so. Hey, I need to go, Jax.”
  • “Wait! Okay. I’m giving you a week. If you really don’t want to meet up, I’m done talking with you.”
  • She chuckled. “I’m sure you won’t do that.”
  • “I am sure that I would.”
  • “No, you won’t.”
  • “Why not?”
  • “Because you like the sound of my voice.”
  • Yes, I did like the sounds she makes whenever she was begging me to make her come on the phone. She could make me hard just by listening to her voice alone.
  • “I’m pretty sure I like the sound of you, moaning.” I sighed. “Look, I can’t continue our friendship like this. I need to see you. One week, Ericka.”
  • “I can’t. I’m going to New York to see my parents this week. Did you remember? It’s been a long time since I last saw my mother.”
  • “That’s good then. I’ll put New York to my schedule this week, and then I’ll meet you. I’ll take you to New York.”
  • Silence.
  • “Ericka?”
  • “What? I don’t know. I can’t promise.”
  • “Listen to me very carefully. I’m very good at tracking people. I could find anyone in a blink, and the only reason I’m not doing it yet is because I respect that you’re not ready. But this isn’t going anywhere. I need to be buried inside you. I would like to hear you scream my name, my real name, and devour every inch of you. If you don’t say yes, I’m going to find you.”
  • I heard her breath skip. “Don’t you think that’s illegal?”
  • “I will take every risk.”
  • “Jax,” she called. “Okay, but not this week, maybe for the next two weeks. Please? This week is a bad time.”
  • “Done. Fourteen days and you will tell me your address. Fourteen fucking days, Ericka, or we’re done.”
  • “Okay! Okay! Stop intimidating me.”
  • “Good. That’s good then, Ericka. Good night.”