Her Two Wilde Billionaire Bad Boys (Wilde, Nevada 3)
Page 3
“Why? Can you honestly say you like your name? Charles Henry Covington?” He sent the pigskin back to his friend, the man who had been by his side since college. “That name is for someone with a stick up their ass. Doesn’t fit you, Chuck. Not one bit.”
“Same old argument, Lance. You know it’s never going to change my mind.” Chuck lifted his beer can, and in his poor attempt at a British accent, said, “I actually am quite fond of my name, sir. Charles Henry Covington comes from a long line of bluebloods.”
He held his glass of scotch. “More like a line of misfits and horse thieves.”
They laughed and took long drinks from their beverages.
Another major bump from the turbulence caused their drinks to spill.
“Damn, what a waste of good scotch.” Lance grinned as he wiped up the mess.
“How long has it been since we’ve been to one of Michael Chamberlain’s infamous parties?”
“Almost a year.” They’d been fast friends with Michael. Unlike Lance and Chuck, the fellow billionaire had been born with several silver spoons in his mouth.
“Didn’t he hit on you first, Lance?” Chuck liked to tease almost as much as he did.
“Of course he did. Look at this body, buddy. Who wouldn’t?”
Chuck laughed. “Me, for one.”
“You’re not gay, but if you were, you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off of me, I’m sure.”
“Are you interested in my hands?” Chuck grinned broadly. “Are you coming out of the closet after all these years, Lance?”
“Yeah. Right. In your dreams. If I were gay, you’d be the last person I’d want to go to bed with.”
“You couldn’t handle what I’ve got between my legs, buddy.”
They loved teasing each other. Always had. It had begun shortly after the first time they’d shared a woman’s bed. Now, sharing women was the norm for them, as was ribbing each other.
“You forget. I’ve seen your junk, and I wasn’t impressed.”
“I’ve seen yours, too, Lance O’Little.”
“Ten inches of all-American man meat.”
Chuck shook his head. “More like nine, maybe nine and a half, for you. I’m ten.”
“Shall I get the ruler out again?”
He and Chuck were like brothers in every way. They’d founded and built up their software company right after college. When O’Leary Global had purchased Archer-Covington Technology, they’d become billionaires at the ripe old age of twenty-four. Now, five years later, they were headed into their thirties.
“Any ideas what you want for your birthday, old man?” Lance had been trying to come up with something that would impress Chuck and pull him out of his gloomy mood of late. “You’re not giving me much time to get you a present or plan an event. You’ve only got a month left in your twenties.”
“And you turn thirty a month after me, old man. I will let you know when I come up with something I want.”
They continued tossing the football in silence for a while.
“You know, Chuck, when you can have anything your heart desires, most things lose their appeal.” For the past year or two, boredom had become the norm. Nothing held any luster or surprise. Even the parties, no matter how lavish, were dull and gray. He and Chuck had reached for the stars and had succeeded. But now, with no dreams left to pursue, he felt lost and adrift. He was pretty sure Chuck felt the same. “Sometimes, I miss the old days.” Not just sometimes. All the time.
“I agree, buddy. Maybe my present from you could be an additional donation to our foundation?”
“That’s a great idea, Chuck.” He was proud of their work with the homeless and orphans. “I’m thinking a cool million. Maybe we could expand the focus of the Archer-Covington Foundation.”
“To what?”
“To help men with tiny dicks get help.”