Mr. Black: A Billionaire Romance, page 1
MR. BLACK
J.L. Perry
Contents
Blurb
Foreword
1. Ashton
2. Emma
3. Ashton
4. Emma
5. Ashton
6. Emma
7. Ashton
8. Emma
9. Ashton
10. Emma
11. Ashton
12. Emma
13. Ashton
14. Emma
15. Ashton
16. Emma
17. Ashton
18. Emma
19. Ashton
20. Emma
21. Ashton
22. Emma
23. Ashton
24. Ashton
25. Emma
26. Ashton
27. Emma
28. Ashton
29. Emma
30. Ashton
31. Ashton
32. Ashton
33. Emma
34. Emma
35. Emma
36. Ashton
37. Ashton
38. Emma
Mr. Edwards
Grayson
Finding Him
Note from the Author
Also By J. L. Perry
Connect with the Author here
MR. BLACK
J. L. Perry
Copyright 2024 J. L. Perry
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations, or places is entirely coincidental.
All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the author's express written permission. All songs, song titles, and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
Disclaimer: The material in this book contains graphic language and sexual content and is intended for mature audiences, ages 18 and older.
There is content within this book that may set off triggers click here for help.
Editing by Kay at Swish Design & Editing
Proofreading by Nicki at Swish Design & Editing
Cover Design by The Book Cover Boutique
This book is dedicated to my newest hero,
my princess, Brooklyn Paris.
Our sailor.
A protector of our land.
A servant called to battle when our country takes a stand.
We pray for your strength, courage,
and a heart that will forgive.
For peace and understanding in a world for all to live.
Your family’s prayers are with you,
no matter where you roam.
Please listen when you’re lonely and return safely home.
ASHTON BLACK, or as I like to call him, Mr. B. for Bossy, is fast becoming the bane of my existence.
After running into him, literally, he’s now popping up everywhere, and somehow managing to weave his way into my life.
He's rich, powerful, egotistical, smug, and so ridiculously good looking it should be illegal—he's way too hot to handle. I don't do hot, those types of guys are more trouble than they’re worth.
Although, I'd secretly love to do him.
We’ve kissed once, and it somehow led to me dry-humping his leg in front of the entire club. Oh, and did I mention I deep-throated his thumb within seconds of meeting him? It was before I even knew his name.
Apparently, I have issues… big ones.
He makes me do things I never imagined myself doing.
He makes me feel things I'm not comfortable feeling.
He may be used to getting what he wants, but he can’t have me. It just wouldn’t work, even if I wanted it to. Between us, we have more baggage than a carousel at LAX airport.
He's everything I want, but can never have.
Or so I thought.
Letting go of the hurt and learning to
forgive will not change the past,
but it will enhance your future.
Chapter 1
Ashton
“Yes, yes, yes…” Her cries echo around the room as long, red nails dig painfully into my back. We’ve been going at it all night. “Mmm… just like that… oh God, you’re so good at this.”
A cocky smirk tugs at my lips.
I’m better than good, sweetheart.
Fucking is my forte.
Her legs grip my hips like a vice as one of her hands slides down to my ass, squeezing it tight. The other moves up to cup my face, trying to pull me in for a kiss, but I jerk my head back.
I already told her—no kissing.
That shit is too intimate, and I don’t do intimacy.
I fuck hard, but that’s where I draw the line.
I know there’s more to life than meaningless sex, but contemplating anything other than this now terrifies me. I haven’t always been such a cold-hearted prick—I was once a fun-loving guy—but I’m not that man anymore.
Past circumstances have a way of changing you, hardening you.
Fucking you over.
Taking away your ability to see the good in people.
Robbing you of your trust.
The scars it left inside me run deep, so deep you’d need a miner’s permit just to find them.
When I feel her pussy start to spasm, my hands anchor on the back of her knees, pushing her legs further back into her chest.
That’s it, so deep.
My large frame looms over her petite body, and beads of sweat collect across my forehead as the droplets sporadically drip onto the pillow below. Drip-thrust-thrust-drip.
My cock slams into her at lightning pace making the headboard slam into the wall, over and over again. I’m not even sure if she lives alone, the place was in darkness when we got back here last night.
I continue my assault nevertheless, moving harder, faster, and deeper with every plunge, driving her home as she shudders through her orgasm. Her inner walls contract around my cock, and her high-pitched scream rings in my ears.
Pulling out, I tear off the condom. There’s a look of tranquility on her face as her legs go limp either side of mine. My head instinctively falls back resting between my shoulder blades as my hand wraps around the girth of my cock, pumping with long calculated strokes to spur on my own climax.
“Fuck,” I grate out through a clenched jaw as my release shudders through me, spurting all over the smooth skin on her stomach.
I never come inside them anymore.
Never.
It’s another one of my rules. The last thing I need is some gold digger looking for an easy ride, claiming I’ve knocked her up. Been there, done that. I’d never knowingly put myself in that position again.
Hence my six cardinal rules. Rules I now live by.
No exchanging of last names.
No kissing on the mouth.
Never bring a woman to my house.
No more than one night.
Always wrap it—I mean always!
And never lose my load inside them.
It’s what I need to do to protect myself.
Scooping up the box of tissues she dumped beside her bed earlier, I pass them to her.
“Mind if I use your bathroom?” I ask.
It’s time for me to leave.
“Sure, go right ahead.”
I lock the door behind me because I’m not looking for company. Reaching into the shower stall, I turn on the faucet. My focus is on cleaning up and leaving. I grimace as I step under the spray because the water—from where her nails have torn into my skin—stings.
Pumping body wash into my hand, I lean my head back, trying to clear my frantic mind. The hot water flows through my short, dark hair and down over my weary muscles as I slowly inhale and then exhale. Rinse and repeat.
The towel is draped low around my waist when I re-enter her bedroom. She pushes herself up on her elbows as her hooded eyes follow me across the room. My cock twitches when she licks her lips, spurring me on for another round. But, my time here is done.
I collect my clothes before letting the towel shamelessly drop to the floor.
She drinks me in. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” she says. “Why don’t you stay? Maybe we can grab some breakfast together, then spend the rest of the day in bed.” She arches a perfectly sculptured eyebrow, trying to entice me.
“Sorry, babe. I can’t.”
“Can I see you again?”
Here it comes.
She knew the deal going in.
I hate how some of them agree to my terms all the while thinking they can change my mind—like they have some kind of magical pussy that’s going to erase my past. It would take more than a good lay to do that.
Ignoring her, I slip into my boxers before stepping into my jeans and approaching the bed. “I’ve got to go,” is all I say, bending down to place a chaste kiss on the top of her head.
Her face drops, and I feel like an asshole. There are times the man I once was threatens to shine through, even though I make sure they’re clear on where they stand coming into this. “Thanks for last night, though… it was good.”
I throw the word good back in her face.
What else can I say?
Standing to full height, I punch my arms through the sleeves of my shirt and slip into my shoes before turning and walking toward the door.
“The pleasure was all mine,” she purrs to my retreating back, and a satisfied smile tugs at my lips.
I rake my fingers through my wet hair as I step off the elevator and walk through the foyer of her building. Deep down, I hate the cold and cynical person I’ve become, but I refuse to let this shit eat away at me, my past does a good enough job of that.
It’s not like I gave her a promise of tomorrow.
I push those thoughts to the back of my mind, burying them deep, and by the time I hit the sidewalk making my way back to my car, all is forgotten.
Over the years, I’ve become a master at this.
Easy come, easy go.
I slide my phone from my pocket when it dings, rolling my eyes when I see it’s from my mother.
Mother: Don’t forget dinner tonight, darling. The Hendersons are bringing their daughter, Willow. You remember her, don’t you? She’s perfect for you.
My jaw ticks as I read her message.
Ashton: I’m not interested in Willow, mother! I’ll see you at six.
When three dots dance at the bottom of the screen as she types her reply, I switch my phone to silent before shoving it back into my pocket. I’m not in the mood for her matchmaking today.
“Mmm.” The sensual moan stops me in my tracks. It’s a sound I’ve heard many times in the bedroom, but not while I’m walking down the main street in broad daylight.
My head snaps up just in time to see the woman before me take another bite of the donut in her hand. Her eyes are closed as if savoring the taste of the small, sugary morsel in her mouth. “Mmm,” she hums again, and not only does that sound make my cock twitch, but I find myself grinning.
Who knew eating a sweet treat could be so erotic?
Her eyes remain shut, so I use the advantage to drink her in. She’s tall and slender with tanned, shapely legs that seem to go on for days. Her curved hips only accentuate her tiny waist. My gaze flickers over her flat stomach, then pauses momentarily on her impressive rack that’s straining against the material of the tight white top she’s wearing. I see a hint of lace through the thin fabric. Her brown hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, and her long dark eyelashes fan out against her flawless skin.
The morning sun that’s peeking between the tall buildings is illuminating her. She looks angelic, but no pure thoughts run through my head as I watch her, only sinful ones. My tongue juts out, gliding along my lower lip. I’d love nothing more than to hear her make those sweet noises as she’s pinned beneath me while I’m buried balls deep inside her.
She takes a step forward, closely followed by another. Her eyes still haven’t opened, and I stand there staring as I await the inevitable. Her lips part once more, ready to take another bite, but she’s so lost in the moment, she walks straight into me.
Her eyes spring open. “Watch out,” she huffs as she stumbles backward. Reaching for her, I grasp her elbow to steady her. My attempt to save her from falling has resulted in her donut crashing to the sidewalk below.
The devastation on her face is visible as she stares at it, and for an instant, I feel bad for her. But, by the time her caramel-colored eyes meet mine, the sadness that was swimming in them moments ago is now replaced with fury. For some reason, that emotion has the smile on my face growing.
“Now look what you’ve done?”
“What I’ve done? I saved you. Maybe try opening your eyes while you’re walking next time, sweetheart.”
Her eyes narrow, and my amusement grows.
“Do you think this is funny, you… you… egotistical so and so?”
I almost laugh at her comment.
Almost.
“What in the hell is a so and so?”
“I was trying to be polite,” she bites back.
“Don’t hold back on my account.”
“Fine, I won’t… you egotistical, arrogant… umm…”
“Umm, what?”
“Bastard! Happy?” A gratified smugness appears on her pretty face. She’s cute.
“Whoa,” I say, holding my hands out in front of me. “It’s just a jelly donut, sweetheart. No need to be a bitch about it. It’s not like I knocked your firstborn child out of your arms.”
She gasps blinking in disbelief. I probably shouldn’t have called her a bitch, but she started it.
Minutes pass as we remain in a silent standoff. There’s something about her that stumps me. What, who knows? Probably because it appears she can’t stand the sight of me. I’m not used to women taking an instant dislike to me. Her snarkiness it’s oddly refreshing.
My eyes flicker over her face, taking her in, and I swear all the air leaves my lungs—she’s beautiful.
Reaching out, I take a swipe at the small patch of powdered sugar on her cheek, bringing my finger to my mouth.
“Mmm…” I mimic her sound from earlier. “Delicious.”
Her eyes widen as her fingertips glide over the spot I just touched. “Stop… stop calling me sweetheart,” she stammers, clearly affected by what I just did and unable to think of anything more intelligent to say.
“Okay, babe. Sure thing.” I throw in a wink for good measure.
She squares her shoulders, placing her hands on her hips. “I’m not your babe, either.”
Her tough persona is failing miserably. She’s simply adding to her adorableness. My eyes dip to her plump lips, lips that I’m pretty sure are aching to be kissed.
Well, in my mind, they are.
“You have some…” I trail off, pointing to my mouth.
When her tongue darts out, I smile, but she misses it completely. Taking a step forward, I place the pad of my thumb on her bottom lip, dragging it down slightly as I go. Her breath hitches. I draw my arm back, but she reaches out and snags my wrist before I get a chance to taste her again.
A strangled groan bubbles in the back of my throat when she yanks my hand toward her face and encloses her mouth over my thumb.
My entire thumb—deep throating it.
I inhale a sharp breath when I feel her tongue lightly swipe against my skin, licking the jelly before drawing back. Her eyes are locked with mine as her full lips slowly withdraw down the entire length, finally releasing my digit with a pop.
Fuck!
Maybe I’ve underestimated this woman.
“Delicious,” she breathes smugly.
Touché.
The corners of my lips turn up when her face shifts to a pretty shade of pink. I get the feeling she just did something completely out of character for her.
“You like that,” I whisper, leaning into her personal space. Her sweet vanilla scent envelops me. “I have something else you can suck on if you’re interested.”
She gasps again.
When I pull back, I arch an eyebrow, and her eyes widen like saucers. I chuckle when the hue in her cheeks intensifies.
This is fun.
She drags the corner of her lip between her teeth, nibbling on it.
I want to bite her lip too.
Her gaze once again drops to her donut, and I hear her sigh as her shoulders slightly sag.
“It’s just a donut. Here …” I reach into my back pocket pulling out my wallet, “… I’ll pay for another one.”
Her gaze flickers back to me. “You don’t understand, I can’t just buy another one.”
I hold a twenty-dollar bill out in front of me. “Take it.” She simply stares at me, making no attempt to accept the money I’m offering. “I insist,” I state more forcefully.
“Bossy much.” Her comment makes me chuckle.
Bossy is my middle name.
Well, not really, but it should be. Being in control is what I crave. It’s my way of compensating for the power I lost over my life a long time ago.
She glances over her shoulder, blowing out a puff of air. “They’d be all gone by now.” I follow her line of sight and see people lined up outside the bakery further down the street. I’ve never bought anything from there, but I have noticed the long lines before today. “There were only a couple of the jelly ones left.”
“How about a different flavor?”
