Billionaire's Single Mom

"So, you came here with a boyfriend? What happened to him, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Oh, we're still together. In fact, I'd better let him know what time I'll be getting back home to him. He never cooks his own dinner, and I bet the house is a mess. He'll want to know when I'll be back to take care of everything. How much longer will this lesson be?"

"I guess it's over. Let's go back." Ethan looked strange, like he was disappointed or angry. He kick-started his bike to life and rode off into the distance.

It was too bad. I had enjoyed spending time with him, talking and sharing our stories. He made me feel interesting, and I loved the way his eyes twinkled when he laughed. I hated for this moment to end, but I knew Mick really would be helpless without me. Sometimes I felt more like his mother and housekeeper than his girlfriend.

Bewildered by Ethan's sudden curtness, I followed him onto the country road and back to the Speed Motorcycles corporate offices. Even though something was clearly bothering him, he still held back enough on the throttle for me to follow him without feeling rushed or strained, and when I started to lose control of the bike going over the storm grate entering the garage, he was immediately concerned.

"Are you all right?" he pulled up to a stop beside me.

"Yes, I'm okay. I remembered the technique you taught me for regaining control."

"Good, I wouldn't want anything to happen to my new cover model." He was staring into my eyes, and I got the impression I meant a lot more to him than that, although I didn't see how that was possible. We hardly knew each other. I'd been in a relationship with Mick for five years, and he wasn't that concerned with my wellbeing, so why would this man who was practically a stranger care so much about me?

We parked our bikes, and his assistant guided me back to the changing room to return the riding suit and put my regular clothes back on. When I came out, I disappointed that I never got a chance to say goodbye to Ethan. Somehow, I had half expected to see him waiting for me by the exit, but I don't know why he would be. He was an important CEO and owner of the biggest motorcycle company in the country, and I was nothing more than a struggling model.

Still, something told me that I would see him again before the shoot, and what surprised me most of all was how much I hoped it would be soon.

Chapter Five

Ethan

"What time is the cover shoot today?" It didn't appear anywhere on my itinerary for the day, and I couldn't wait to see Kayla again.

"Keith called it off. He said it's been pushed back to Friday," Angela said.

"He pushed it back again? Can't anyone in this damn company do anything on time?" I hadn't been sleeping well, and it was beginning to take a toll on me. The disappointing news that I wouldn't be seeing Kayla after looking forward to it all week pushed me over the edge into becoming a cranky asshole.

I knew it wasn't Angela's fault and I shouldn't take it out on her, but unfortunately for her, she was the only one in the room. Slamming my schedule shut, I snapped at her, "What the hell is the delay this time?"

"How should I know? Something to do with repairs to the studio. You seem tense. Let me rub your shoulders," Angela offered, but I avoided her manicured hands with a shrug.

"No thanks. I don't have the time. Tell Keith I won't accept any more delays. The shoot is being held on Friday, whether he's ready or not."

"Yes, sir," Angela said, but her voice was dripping with sarcasm and not respect.

"Did he inform the photographer and crew about the new shoot date?"

"Everybody knows except for the model. Apparently, the cell number she put on her résumé has been temporarily disconnected. Keith is wondering if we need to go with the second runner up."

"The hell we will. I selected Kayla Brandt and that's the model we're going with. I'll contact her myself if necessary."

I stormed from the office, leaving a stunned Angela in my wake. I felt like a shitheel for taking out my anger on her, but I couldn't help it.

Ever since I went riding with Kayla, I hadn't been able to stop thinking about her. I could hardly concentrate on work. I spent all my time reviewing her file over and over, just staring at her picture. I kept replaying the conversation we had under the oak tree over in my memory, hearing her laugh, seeing her smile, reliving the stories she shared, and the way it felt when her hand brushed against mine when we both reached into the bag of trail mix at the same time.

At night, my dreams were filled with images of her kissing me, putting her mouth on my dick, and making love to me. I imagined what it would feel like to put my hands all over her perfect body, and how it would taste to kiss those magnificent tits. I was obsessed with her, and I was counting down the hours until I could see her again, even if it was only in the context of a photoshoot.

She told me she had a boyfriend; one that she'd been seeing for five years. That was a long-term, committed relationship, and I knew I had no chance with her. What could I offer her besides a one-night stand? I was a firm bachelor, resolute against changing my ways. She was better off without me trying to get her into the sack. Still, I needed to at least look at her one last time, talk to her, and hear her pretty voice before I let her go from my fantasies. I knew I could never have her, but I could at least indulge in one last day with her as I watched her model for the cover shoot. Then, I could let her go in peace.

Only now, the fates were working against me as once again Keith had delayed the shoot, and now Kayla's phone number was out of service. It was more than I could take. I decided to drive to her apartment to tell her about the new shoot date. I would even pick her up in my car and drive her to the studio personally if it was the only way I could see her again.

I stormed down to the garage in the basement of the building and got in my bright-red Ferrari. I sped through the city streets of L.A. until I came to the La Heurta Vista apartments. They were dingy, with plaster falling off the walls and an empty pool out front sur

rounded by a gate that was half falling down. It was filled with leaves and plastic garbage bags and obviously hadn't held water in years.

I knew exactly which apartment was Kayla's, since I'd memorized her entire file, including her address, during my obsessive re-reading of it over the past two weeks. As I approached her door, however, I heard distinct shouts coming from inside.