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  • Marrying the Wrong Twin: A Billionaire Marriage Mistake Romance (Baby Fever Book 4) Page 2

Marrying the Wrong Twin: A Billionaire Marriage Mistake Romance (Baby Fever Book 4) Read online

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  Last time, he’d sent Adare to buy a huge software company, a matter my brother had managed to screw up substantially. I thought Dad had learned his lesson about sending his youngest son to deal with business issues but who could say for sure? All I could do was wait until Adare returned home from this private lunch and I could grill him.

  Don’t get me wrong—I loved my brother. How could I not? We were basically the same person, after all. I just knew I was far better at life than he was.

  Carlie spread her hand over my back and dug her nails into the warm flesh, causing me to scowl.

  “What was that for?” I demanded, shaking her palm off my naked skin.

  “I was just trying to get your attention,” she purred, unfazed by the fact that I was irked. She was used to me which I then realized was not a good thing. She’d been spending far too much time in my bed.

  “I’ve gotta go,” I muttered, eyeing her meaningfully. She was in my bed, after all but she didn’t move.

  “Nope,” she replied lightly. “Not until you make me come.”

  In spite of myself, I felt a rush of heat flow through my body and I studied Carlie through my peripheral vision.

  There was a reason she’d lasted so long in my bed—she had the endurance of an ox and the body of a goddess.

  It made it that much easier to ignore both her face and her vaguely vexing personality. I didn’t give her a chance to speak again as I wrested her naked figured back to the eighty-count Egyptian cotton sheets, my hand falling around her throat to keep her from uttering another word as my mouth worked down her lithe body.

  My tongue lashed out to taste the stale salt of her body as I moved my abs down her frame and toward the spread vee of her middle. She was ready for me as always but as I lapped at her, my cock growing harder, my mind was still distinctly on what Adare and my father were discussing.

  Dad better not have overlooked me for something merger related, I thought, massing Carlie’s windpipe with strong fingers as my mouth suctioned around her clit. I felt the vibration of her moan against my palm and it served to make my dick rock solid.

  My nose nuzzled into her musky center, my free hand reaching upward to play with the sopping mess that seeped from between her legs. I slipped two fingers inside, my breath quickening against her as I felt Carlie tense beneath me.

  In and out I fucked her with my manicured digits, each thrust bringing her closer to the brink and Carlie struggled to scream against the tension on her throat.

  The heat of my balls forced me to focus on what I was doing and put my family on the back burner for a moment.

  I loosened my grip around her throat and carefully shifted my body around, straddling her as I flipped my body one hundred and eight degrees. My cock slid across her mouth and I never lost my groove over her drenched lips.

  Eagerly, Carlie reached up, taking me fully into her mouth and it was my turn to groan with pleasure as her wet mouth sucked me back.

  God, she had the mouth of a Hoover, her lower lip grazing my sack as she began to match the rhythm of my fingers inside her.

  “Fuck!” I muttered and the sensation of my words caused her to buck up wildly against me and spasm, spraying her hot orgasm into my face.

  I lapped it all up but I didn’t stop. It had been my intention to fuck her but she was doing such a good job, taking my sack in with the rest of my unit, I didn’t move from working at her pussy.

  Her walls closed in around my fingers and the little cries that wanted to escape her lips didn’t make it anywhere but back down her own throat, alongside of my engorged hardness.

  Shit…I was going to come too but my ego wouldn’t let myself until I’d gotten at least one more out of her. I didn’t want to hear any complaints from Carlie after I’d blown and I could feel her ready to spill again.

  My face was soaked in her release but my tongue worked almost maniacally as I steeled myself against climaxing.

  But it was all too much and I couldn’t hold back anymore, not when I was being vacuumed up by her.

  With a long grunt, my balls tightened and released, my seed spilling into her at exactly the same time as Carlie came for the second and then third time.

  There is it, I thought smugly, my arms wobbling at the pressure of holding myself up in the reverse sixty-nine position.

  Only when I was sure she had expelled every last drop did I unlatch my lips from her and fall to the side in a huff of air.

  “Shit, Rust,” Carlie purred. “You’re getting better with age.”

  The moment of pleasure I’d experienced vanished and I whipped my head up to glower at her.

  “I’m thirty,” I snapped. “What the fuck does that mean?”

  Carlie giggled, apparently dismissing my ire and stretched.

  “It was a compliment,” she replied. “Nothing to get pissed about.”

  Why do I waste my time with these little girls? They’ve got nothing to offer but sex and they always annoy me.

  “I’ve got shit to do,” I grumbled, pulling up the sheet. It shifted Carlie to the side slightly in the process but she still didn’t move.

  “Just give me a second to catch my breath,” she said as I grabbed the clothes I discarded all over the floor during the night.

  Carlie had already overstayed her welcome but I didn’t want to be a total asshole so I didn’t respond. Instead I threw on my boxers and sauntered toward the en suite to shower. I hoped she’d be gone by the time I got out so I decided to take my time.

  I turned on all eight jets in the steam shower and relished the feeling of the hot water penetrating my muscles from all sides. I’d worked out hard last night, finishing the session with a sparring match, which had left my body aching. Coupled with the marathon sex and the drinking, I was surprised I was still able to stand.

  I probably should have opted for the jacuzzi but it was too late.

  Anyway, I’d need to use my legs at some point that day. It was my intention to be downstairs when Adare got home. I wanted to talk to him about lunch with Dad. It was unlikely that Morris would return to the mansion so early on a workday so I’d have some time alone with Adare. Or at least that was my hope.

  I washed my dark blond hair with extra vigor and I realized that I was getting a wind of adrenaline.

  Why do I still let Dad’s mind games bother me so much? He only does this because he knows it irks me.

  What was more troublesome was that Adare didn’t seem to care. I could almost hear my brother sighing, exasperated, in my ear.

  “He’s old, Rust. Just let him think he’s powerful and forget about it.”

  It was easy for Adare to say because he believed that when Dad finally did kick the bucket, he’s leaving us equal shares in his company. Even if I accepted that as fact, which I wasn’t even sure was true, it made me angrier.

  I was the oldest. The company should be mine. Adare didn’t have the backbone to run things the way I could.

  It wasn’t trying to eliminate my brother or steal his inheritance from him. I could name him CFO or something trite to keep him placated but at the end of the day, I was the one who was best suited to get his hands dirty inside Sphinx and Sons.

  Dad had sheltered Adare, I was sure. I knew the ins and outs of the pharmaceutical industry better than anyone. I was well aware of how gritty and dark it could be. Adare had no idea what was involved, at least not like I did.

  He’s too soft for this. I’m doing him a favor by boxing him out.

  “Babe?”

  Carlie was knocking on the door and I sighed.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m going to head out.”

  “Okay.”

  “Text me later!”

  I didn’t respond, mostly because I had no desire to lie to her.

  Don’t hold your breath, I thought but Carlie was probably already posting a pic of herself on Instagram, not waiting for me to answer.

  I waited until I was sure she was gone before reluctantly turning off the
taps and reaching for a thick, cotton towel to wrap around my sturdy waistline. Droplets of water spilled down the bronze of my skin and I peered at my angular face in the mirror.

  Without meaning to, I found myself leaning in to study my face closer. Were there lines around my eyes that I hadn’t seen before? I squinted slightly, my green eyes narrowing to check out the marionette lines around my mouth.

  What marionette lines? I hissed at myself, loathing how vain I was being.

  Damn Carlie for putting the idea of age in my head.

  But I couldn’t fault her, not entirely. Ever since my thirtieth birthday, two months earlier, I had been plagued with this sense of doom.

  Everyone was married by now, weren’t they? At least had a couple kids?

  Maybe I was still reeling from the visit that my friend Jude and his wife had paid me a couple days prior. Their kids were so damned cute—also twins but a boy and a girl.

  Jude had razzed me about the whole settling down thing but it was easy for him to say—he was always on the road and Geneva, his wife, was perfect.

  Was that what was bugging me? My mortality?

  It’s not like I had considered marriage seriously. Why would I? I enjoyed the single life. The idea of settling down with one woman was neither appealing nor deterring. I could think of just as many pros as I could cons.

  That said, it would be a plus for the company if the CEO showed stability with a wife, wouldn’t it?

  That was me, always thinking about what was best for the company—even if it meant sacrificing my singledom.

  I snorted to myself, wondering when it was I had gotten engaged. Anyway, who would marry me? Carlie?

  The snort became a laugh and then a slight shudder at the idea.

  Instinctively, I pulled myself up. Adare was home—I could sense him. Call it twin intuition or whatever but even without hearing him come in, I knew I was right. I hurried from the bedroom, running a hand through my still-wet hair in a half-hearted attempt to brush it. Hastily, I threw on a pair of blue jeans and a navy-blue t-shirt before stuffing my feet into a pair of socks and Nike kicks.

  I almost ran directly into my brother as I threw open the door to my suite.

  “Oh!” Adare gasped in shock even though I was sure he had felt me there as much as I had him.

  “Hello brother,” I drawled lazily, trying not to depict my over-eagerness to learn what had happened at his luncheon.

  “Are you just getting up?” Adare asked, his eyebrows raising in slight surprise.

  “No,” I replied honestly. “I’ve been up for a while.”

  I just haven’t gotten out of bed.

  “Oh.” Adare turned back toward his room as if the conversation was over but I wasn’t done with him.

  “Where are you going?”

  Adare cast me a wary look.

  “I’m going to shower and change.”

  It was my turn to be surprised. Suddenly, I could feel the uncertainty in my twin.

  “Shower?” I repeated. “Did Dad make you feel that violated?”

  Adare didn’t crack a smile and my own faded slightly as I tried to read the expression on his face.

  “What happened?” I demanded and Adare exhaled, slumping against the wall near the double doors of my rooms.

  “I…” He seemed conflicted as to whether or not to say anything.

  “Dare, you can tell me.”

  He raised his emerald gaze to meet and match mine, an indecipherable expression on his face.

  “It looks like I’m getting married, Rust,” he mumbled.

  A wave of shock encased my body and I struggled not to show my dismay in my face.

  “What?”

  He shrugged and nodded.

  “To whom?”

  Adare grunted slightly and looked away.

  “The daughter of James Preston.”

  My heart began to race as the words sunk into my soul. How long had Dad been trying to merge with JRP, James Preston’s conglomerate? Years, decades maybe.

  Looks like he’s finally found a way to make that happen.

  I knew what this meant.

  It meant that my fight for company control was over.

  Dad had chosen Adare.

  And I had lost.

  2

  Asha

  It was almost six o’clock but my day wasn’t anywhere close to being finished. I knew I should probably consider eating something but I was far too involved in the paperwork in front of me to break my concentration.

  It wasn’t until I heard a knock at the door to my office that I looked up and clued into the fact that the sun was fading into an early dusk beyond the high windows.

  “Come in,” I mumbled, turning my eyes back to the Mac PC on my desk.

  “Ms. Preston, can I get you anything before I go?” Terry asked from the doorway. She paused before adding, “Maybe something to eat?”

  The offer was tempting and I found myself staring at her.

  Food can wait. Work first.

  “No,” I said. “I’m leaving soon.”

  It was a lie. I’d probably end up sleeping at the office again. I wanted to ensure that our marketing and budgeting was on point for the following week on two of our major umbrella companies. It wasn’t really my job but I liked to oversee and foresee problems before they arose.

  JPR would be mine one day and then I’d have no choice but to oversee everything anyway. May as well get a head start on matters now.

  I probably had weeks to worry about those particular issues but I wasn’t taking any chances.

  Plus it kept my mind occupied and that was exactly what I needed. It wasn’t like I had anything else to do anyway but go home and stare at the walls of my under-decorated apartment and wait for the next workday.

  “Are you really leaving soon?” Terry asked directly and I met her stare.

  “Probably?” I offered, cracking a smile. It hurt my mouth vaguely and I wondered how long it had been since I’d used the expression.

  How many days I have been holed up in here?

  “It’s not my business, Ms. Preston, but speaking from personal experience, I find that the more I push myself, the worse things flow together. Taking breaks will help clear your mind.”

  She was right—it wasn’t her business but I knew she was worried about me. Or at least as concerned as an employee could be about their boss. Terry wasn’t a friend of mine any more than anyone else I knew.

  I’d been a lone wolf for so long, I had forgotten what friendship felt like.

  “Thanks for the advice, Terry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Terry balked slightly and looked at me.

  “Oh…did you need me tomorrow?” she asked. My brow furrowed at the question but Terry rushed on to explain.

  “It’s Saturday. I-I can come in if you need me,” she rushed on quickly. “It’s just that it’s my youngest’s birthday on Sunday and there are fifty people coming. It’s prep work but if you need me for a few hours…”

  I raised my hand to get her to stop talking and shook my head sheepishly.

  “I completely lost track of the days,” I confessed, laughing shortly. “No, I don’t need you here tomorrow. Enjoy your weekend.”

  Terry eyed me uncertainly and didn’t move.

  “Are you sure I can’t get you something before I go?”

  “I’m fine, Terry. Thanks though.”

  She nodded and reluctantly spun away, leaving me alone in the office to resume my duties.

  On cue, my stomach growled and I groaned to myself.

  I’d put the idea in my own head and now I had no one but myself to blame for being hungry.

  Flopping back in the chair, I considered my food options, turning slowly to stare out at the fading sunlight on the Los Angeles horizon.

  I hated the city with every fiber of my being. What was I still doing here?

  It was a conversation I often had with myself but not one that ever granted me a genuine answer.


  For almost ten years I’d been caught in this endless loop of wanting to run and resigning to my fate.

  It was clear which side was winning.

  My cell vibrated on my desk, shattering the reverie which threatened to overcome me. There was no point in playing the “what if” game with myself. I had already given in to the life my parents had plotted for me. I was a full and willing participant now, no matter what I lied and told myself when I was alone.

  That was why it was so difficult to take a break from work, to face the emotions I’d tried so hard to stifle despite my outward appearance. The nights were long and lonely and I had no one, not one soul in the world to cry upon.

  I hardened my jaw. I didn’t need anyone. I had work.

  I snatched up the iPhone XS Max from the glass desk and answered it before I could change my mind. She’d just keep calling until I did.

  “Asha Preston.”

  “Clearly, darling,” my mother sighed. “You do not need to answer the phone like that when you know I’m the one calling.”

  “What is it, Mother?” I was in no mood to discuss decorum with her.

  “Your father and I are downstairs. You will join us for dinner.”

  It wasn’t a request and I bristled.

  “I’m swamped with work, Mother. Another night.”

  “It is not up for negotiation, Asha. This is a business meeting.”

  Well that was hardly a shock. I couldn’t think of the last time I’d sat down to a “family” dinner. Even the holidays were littered with associates and subtle talks of stocks and marketing.

  Had there ever been a time when “family” dinners meant anything other than mergers and acquisitions of sorts?

  “I didn’t think that it was anything but a business meeting, Mother. That doesn’t discount the fact that—”

  “Ash?”

  She’d handed the phone off to my father. Typical Collette behavior. She couldn’t even see through a two-minute conversation with me.

  “Father.”

  I could hear him cringe through the phone. Sometimes I think he longed for the days when I called him “Daddy” but those weren’t apt to make a comeback any time soon. Both James and Collette had hurt me too deeply for me to forgive in this lifetime.

 

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