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  Reno. Alright, I can put two and two together. Prostitution is legal in Reno and this guy thinks he can get me to just drop everything so I can get in bed with rich old guys for disappointing sex and some money.

  “I’m sure you’re thinking the worst of this offer, but I do hope you’ll think it over. If you’re hesitant on it now, I advise you sleep on it. A beautiful woman such as yourself can make haul in a lot of money in no time at all working with us.”

  In order to get some concrete answers on whether or not I’d be getting involved in prostitution, I ask the old man outright. “This is prostitution, isn’t it?”

  He hangs up. I look up and see that every pair of eyes in the cafe is looking back at me, everyone curious as to what was being said to me on the other end. And with that, I pay for my food and exit the cafe.

  Then I receive a text. No, a link to some website.

  The Gentlemen’s Club of Reno.

  A noise comes out of me that could be considered a mix between audible disgust and incredulous laughter. It’s exactly what I thought it’d be. A snobby whorehouse for decrepit rich guys buy sex. Although, it says here that some men don’t go looking for sex, but someone to treat or spend time with, platonically.

  That doesn’t sound nearly as repulsive.

  As Clyde said, I am in a bit of a pickle financially. If I have to spend some time making old rich men feel wanted to make some money, that wouldn’t necessarily be the end of the world. Quite the opposite. I’d be that much closer to reaching my goal. And worse comes to worst, I’ll be able to use that money to fund whatever venture I choose to pursue that doesn’t involve a daycare.

  There would be more benefits to seeing what Clyde has to offer in terms of money. The thought of him offering anything else makes me sick.

  I open my texting app and send Clyde my response.

  When’s the flight?

  Chapter 8

  Tessa

  Nothing is more humbling to me than my inability to lie. It’s always been a weakness of mine. People can see a lie coming out of my mouth from miles away and it always bites me on the ass.

  Knowing this, I made sure that I never lied to Devyn in person about my sudden business related trip to Nevada. She begged me repeatedly to let her in on what I was planning but I intentionally kept it vague, but positive. To keep our spirits up. Lord knows we need to keep our spirits up.

  I’ve driven through Nevada in the past. Never enjoyed the sights, but from what I was told by my peers, there wasn’t much to see other then the Las Vegas Strip and the Grand Canyon. Just a lot of ghost towns and supermalls, an odd juxtaposition. Little did my peers know that in the heart of Reno was a humble little country club and business known as The Gentlemen’s Club. A place where one could stop by after receiving their yearly tax returns to treat a lady of the red light variety to a nice night out or a quick roll under the sheets.

  As soon as I step into the place, every head turns to me. Old men dressed up in penguin tuxedos looking me up and down. Scantily dressed women smiling seductively at me. It was an odd experience, to put it lightly.

  “I’ll take it you’re Tessa Chambers.”

  The crowd of employees and patrons disperses to reveal a buxom lady donning the most extravagant dress I’ve seen outside of an awards ceremony.

  “What a pleasure it is to meet you, darling. Come with me”, she whimsically chimes as if she’s about to spring into a Disney-style musical number.

  She holds my hand daintily and leads me through the glorified whorehouse and into an overly perfumed room near the back of the building. The lady shuts the door behind me and drops her cheerful facade so quickly it almost gave me whiplash.

  “Look here, honey. If you’re going to come in dressed like that, come in through the back and change into something more… elegant. Sexy. Jeans and a hoodie don’t exactly get our older patrons riled up”, she explains in a much more boorish voice.

  I apologize and explain that I wasn’t given any solid instructions on how to act or what to do upon arrival.

  “Don’t worry about it. This time at least. Just change into something hot and come back so I can give you the rundown on how you can make the most money while you’re working here”, she says. “Name’s Doris, by the way. But you have to refer to me as Madam out there, alright?”

  “Hold on”, I stammer. “I never agreed to start working. I thought I was going to get an explanation as to—”

  “Let me stop you right there, honey. If you’re here, you’re going to work. Otherwise you can hit the skids, and your little ‘tard kids will spend their lives bouncing from hospital to hospital, being ignored.”

  “Do NOT call them that”, I demand with gritted teeth.

  Doris’s face cracks into a smile. “Struck a nerve, did I? Look, girlie, you want your school back? You’re going to need money.”

  I shake my head. “You don’t know what I need. It’s not just money.”

  She leans over to whisper something in my ear. “You’re very naive if you think that money can’t get you everything you need. Ever heard of a bribe? Come on, honey, use your brain here and PLEASE don’t waste my time.”

  Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this book, please leave a review. If you would like to join my ARC team and receive free advanced reading copies of books, please send a screenshot or link of your review to [email protected].

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  Thank you for your support and for reading this book. Love, Eva

  Snow Job: Stranded with a Possessive Billionaire

  Copyright © 2017 by Eva Luxe; All Rights Reserved.

  Published by Sizzling Hot Reads.

  Chapter 1 – Kurt

  There was a light blanket of snow falling as my personal jet was about to take off for my business trip. The sky looked bleak and gray, and the forecasts were predicting more snow. I began to wonder whether my pilot, James, might call off the flight due to safety concerns.

  But then I heard him say, “Are we all set for takeoff?”, right before I saw his head poke out around the open door of the cockpit. I nodded my head at him, and, shifting his gaze from the air traffic controllers frantically running after an escaped luggage cart, he smiled back at me, probably to reassure me that everything was okay, because he knew me so fucking well by now.

  I, Kurt Roberts, was a modern-day mogul, and therefore I was used to jet setting around the world. But that didn’t mean my stomach didn’t still churn a little bit with nervousness each time the plane took off, especially when the weather looked questionable, like today. I couldn’t help but worry that the plane would crash and that I would meet my unfortunate demise.

  A man like me was used to getting everything I could possibly want, but that didn’t mean I didn’t have a healthy fear of my own mortality, the perpetual extension of which was one thing money still couldn’t buy. At times like these, though, I just told myself to grin and bear it, like any other billionaire would, instead of letting my humble roots get the best of me.

  Mine was a true rags to riches story with a twist. At age 43, I had the distinction of being one of the world’s wealthiest men. My corporation was worth billions, with my net worth increasing by the minute. I had access to the finest things that life had to offer and by all outside perceptions, I appeared to have it all.

  And I had, at first: a loving wife, a doting daughter, a wildly successful business that I started myself when I was just a teenager, and every creature comfort imaginable. Our family portrait had graced the cover of every prestigious magazine in the country.

  Everything was perfect until it wasn’t. I remember vividly that day when ev
erything fell apart. I had been unusually stressed and needed a break, so I decided to book a week-long cruise for my ex-wife and I to relax. After having my assistant work out the details, I bought a bouquet of roses and chocolates and headed home to surprise my ex-wife and start packing for our romantic getaway.

  When I got home, I was met with a surprise of my own. Finding the walkway from the front door lit with candles and soft jazz music lilting through the air, I had excitedly begun undressing, making my way to the bedroom. It had been so long since my ex-wife and I had done anything romantic or spontaneous and I had begun to worry that our marriage was dying.

  But, I loved my wife and was committed to making a wonderful and loving home for her and our daughter, despite whatever distance might have been coming between us. It was one of the reasons for my romantic gestures and trip plans— I had started to worry that I had been neglecting her due to working too much, and wanted to make up for it.

  There was no way that I could have anticipated opening the door to our bedroom only to be greeted by the chiseled, clenched glutes of our personal trainer, Steven, as he gutted my screaming wife, while her high heeled feet were dangling over his ripped, muscular shoulders.

  Even now, although I told myself I was fucking over it, I found my fists clinched reactively at the memory. Or maybe they were clinched at my fear of this airplane taking off in this weather and then crashing.

  The chirping ring of my cell phone broke me from my thoughts and back to reality.

  “All phones must be turned off!” James called from the cockpit, as if he didn’t have to tell me this every time we took off.

  “Sorry, James. Just let me take this last call and we can be on our way,” I told him.

  Seeing “Crestwood Academy” pop up on the screen had made my heart sink a little. I had a nagging feeling that this will not be a good call.

  “Hello, this is Kurt Roberts.”

  “Mr. Roberts. Yes. Hi,” came a hurried, shrill voice on the other end. “This is Principal Marion from Crestwood Academy. I’m so glad that I could catch you. Your secretary said that you might have been gone already. It’s about Olivia.”

  “Oh, my God! Is she okay?” I flew into a mild panic.

  A dejected sigh responded to me on the other end.

  “Oh, she’s perfectly fine. Probably extremely pleased with herself at the moment, by the look of her. Your daughter called her teacher the ‘c’ word. Again, Mr. Roberts. And when told to take a time out, she let out a slew of other vulgar words that I dare not repeat in this or any other company, frankly. She has the look of a saint with the mouth of the Devil. Now, I’m not sure what type of language you or your wife use at home…”

  Her voice trailed off, as if she was waiting on me for an answer. But, after not getting one, she continued. “But, you have to understand our position here. If nothing changes very soon, we will have no choice but to dismiss Olivia from our academy. Since Christmas break is starting, we will see if things improve next semester. Otherwise, we’re at our wits’ end. I am so very sorry.”

  I hung up my phone, turned it off, and tossed it into the empty seat next to me. There was nothing that I could do from thousands of feet in the air and just as many miles away, anyway. I’d have to let Ravka, my nanny, deal with it until I get back. Hopefully, I’d have a plan by then for how to approach things with the academy. At least, as the teacher pointed out, winter break was starting, so things couldn’t get any worse there during my absence.

  Mainly, though, I was worried about poor Olivia and why she was acting out like this. She’d always been a sweet but somewhat sullen girl, a bit overly sensitive, but not some spoiled, cursing brat, so I was sure the divorce was having its effect on her.

  Anyone on the outside looking in would think that with all my entrepreneurial prowess, with hundreds of employees at my beck and call, handling a 7-year-old would be a cake walk. But, the truth was that the lifestyle I’d been able to afford my family was made possible by my business, one that I worked tirelessly to build from the ground up and that kept me away from home more than I might care to admit.

  I couldn’t help but think that maybe my ex-wife would have stayed faithful to me if I hadn’t had been so focused on work. But, maybe not. She was probably just an awful person who still would have decided that she “didn’t want to be tied down,” as she said, by a husband and a child. She probably would have still run off to Vegas to live out her lifelong fantasy of being a stripper and living with a struggling pool boy.

  I forced myself to quickly dismiss the thought that I could have avoided my current reality—one where my wife had run off, leaving me alone to raise a small child while fighting to maintain my place as one of the top business leaders of the world. I didn’t want her anyway— any woman who cheats on me is gone to me, anyhow, and I wanted to keep her just as far out of my mind as she was out of my life.

  At least I had my prominent position, my money, and most importantly, my beautiful daughter in my life. It’s not as if I was left completely without any recourses after losing the love of my life and the mother that my child so desperately needed.

  I knew that Olivia was only acting out in anger because she missed her mother. She cried for months after her mother left. That very night, Olivia begged her mother not to leave. She promised to be good and even offered to give up her iPad and other electronic devices if it would mean keeping her mother home with her. Her mother ignored her pleas, silently whisking around the house as if her daughter wasn’t there, grabbing whatever her feeble arms could carry, rushing off to her new life.

  I had tried to take Olivia’s, then 5-year-old, mind off the horrible event by taking her to Disney World, but not even Mickey Mouse in all his whimsical glory could cheer up my heartbroken child. It was almost like the day that she entered school, she became set on making everyone as miserable as she felt inside.

  Her first school, Madison Christian Academy, kicked her out only after a week because she cut off a small piece of another girl’s hair with a pair of scissors. She claimed she thought they were playing hairdresser, but the teacher thought it was malicious. And I can’t say I’m even sure who I believe because Olivia was going through an understandably dark time. Olivia needed a mother and I needed a loyal woman by my side to help run my kingdom, but neither of us have gotten what we deserve out of life.

  For Olivia, I wasn’t sure what the cure was— nothing could replace a child’s mother and that’s something I struggled with daily. But as for my own personal situation, I’d decided to make lemonade out of lemons and settle for random hookups with sexy women whenever I pleased.

  I’d had them in my board room, their long legs spread wide on the conference table. I’d had them in swanky hotel rooms, as they’d happily lapped up the cum I’d shot into their mouths. I couldn’t help but smile as I glanced at the small bathroom next to the cockpit, remembering a few times I’d had a girl pressed uncomfortably against the wall there while I’d given them every last inch of myself. All ten inches of it, to be precise.

  But, then, that was it. If I’d ever spoke to them again, it had been to let them know where I’d sent a missing earring or a forgotten sweater. It was never a call to repeat our hook up, no matter how hot and steamy it was. I got bored easily and I was convinced that all women only wanted me for my money and could never be faithful. My hefty monthly alimony payment to a woman who never bothered to see me, or our daughter, was evidence of that.

  But, I refused to let it make me bitter. All I could do was learn from my mistakes, which I have been doing. Soon after the plane took off, I leaned back trying to will myself to think happier thoughts.

  “Your whiskey, sir,” came a sweet voice hovering over my shoulder, as if its owner could read my mind and knew exactly what I needed at just that moment.

  Looking up, my eyes fell on the pretty, new flight attendant that my assistant had found. Dressed in a navy blazer and white shirt that hugged her coke bottle frame perfectly, she
reached over to hand me my usual drink.

  “Thank you,” I said, unable to help myself from smiling despite the phone call I’d just received and the dismal mood I was in.

  I also couldn’t help but look at her seductive body: from her almond shaped eyes, to her perky chest, to her shapely hips, to her supple, smooth legs. She licked her moistened lips in a way that made my imagination run wild.

  I imagined taking her to a fine restaurant, wooing her over dinner, slipping my fingers into her wet fold discreetly at the dinner table, and then taking her for a ride in my limo, where I’d pound her pussy until it was raw.

  My dick stood at full attention just thinking about it.

  “You’re welcome,” Dana replied innocently. Except, her tone belied her supposed innocence.

  She sauntered away, giving me one last look— for now— at her luscious rear end.

  My mind began to drift off as I imagined all the different positions that I could have her in. I’d like to bend her over the chair in front of me and stretch her pussy open wide before entering her. I’d like her to sit on my lap like a stripper giving me a dance while bouncing up and down on my cock. The possibilities were endless, and I was wanting to do whatever it took to get with this girl.

  But, I was quickly snapped back to reality when the plane began jolting from a pocket of turbulence. My white-knuckled grip on the arms of my chair grew stronger with each jarring shake.

  “No need to worry,” came James’ soothing voice over the intercom. “We’re just experiencing a little turbulence. This snow picked up a lot more quickly than expected. It appears we might be entering a blizzard.”

  “A blizzard?” I asked, letting my mouth fall open.

  “Nothing I can’t handle,” he said, but his tight grip on the plane’s controls said otherwise.

  Great.

  Here I was thinking my only problems were a daughter getting kicked out of another school, and a hot flight attendant I’d have to use every ounce of willpower to keep my hands off. Now, it looked as if I had much bigger matters to be concerned about now— such as whether I’d even survive this flight.