The Billionaire's Obsession

Jack

It doesn’t matter that I’m back in my own condo. Thoughts of Charlotte follow me. I was able to handle the blue sundress, even if I had to admit how good she looked in it. Seeing her in that little excuse for a bathing suit was another story. When she let the black sleeve of the robe fall over her shoulder, I was not able to ignore it. Neither was my dick.

Worse, I think she enjoyed teasing me. She didn’t bother to fix it, then she came out in just that fucking bikini. If she hadn’t been so god damned sassy and if I didn’t hate her, I probably would have torn it off her with my teeth to devour her, filled that whiny, pouty mouth with my cock, then fucked her on the counter that she has so many damn complaints about.

Even though I jerked off before meeting Charlotte, here I am with a hard, nearly painful erection for a woman I can barely tolerate. Maddening. That’s the right way to describe Charlotte and this current situation.

But I don’t have to deal with her for the next few days. I get to ignore a wannabe celebrity with all the demands of a star.

I check the Facebook page over the next few days to make sure Charlotte stays quiet. Like magic, her comments are gone and no additional issues have come up for her which gives me a nice break. I can focus on the normal issues with running the condos, the restaurant, and the yacht club. Especially with some of the higher-end residents coming back for summer vacation.

I’ve taken on this responsibility for a short time while my yacht club manager takes a short break for a medical procedure. She was so worried that I would replace her. To put her mind at ease, I promised to do it all myself. I don’t mind. I like to stay in touch with everything going on here.

I shake hands and greet familiar tenants, upselling the restaurant—especially considering the new chef. After taking care of some boring work things, I decide to head to the restaurant to ensure everything is set up for the guests. It’s a Friday after all, and I plan to have plenty of business from tourists as well as my own tenants.

I park at the restaurant in the row of expensive cars next to the valet, always happy for an excuse to drive my Lamborghini. I get out and gently pat my car. The first big purchase I made after becoming owner here. A mark of determination bringing out the highest success.

I take note of the number of people milling around, then I notice Charlotte. Of course, she’s taking selfies. At least this time she’s fully dressed. She’s adorable in her nautical-themed outfit, like she’s ready to get on a boat. White high-waisted shorts that nearly reveal the bottom curve of her ass. Blue striped top that flashes some cleavage, with sleeves that won’t stay on her tanned shoulders.

Shaking my head, I ignore her and walk into the restaurant. I greet the chef and bartenders with a genuine smile. They go over some of the reports with me in the back and show me the updated menu for summer.

After giving my approval, I head out to the main seating area and bar to get a good lunch. Of course, there’s Charlotte. She’s talking with another person at the restaurant. I barely catch the end of the conversation.

“How long does it normally take to get help with things in the condos?”

“Well, Jack is pretty busy. I mean, to be the owner and the main point of contact right now must be hard for him.”

“Owner?”

“You didn’t know?” the woman asks gently.

“I thought he was just…” Her eyes search my face, waiting for the woman to go on. “Never mind.”

The woman takes her to-go order and heads out to the dock. Charlotte orders food and ignores me entirely. I give her a forced smile as I order a whiskey on the rocks. Pete, the bartender, gives it to me happily.

“A hurricane, please.” Charlotte asks. How appropriate a drink that is.

She has her ID ready, but Pete doesn’t ask for it. I smirk to myself as she purses her lips. She’s a gorgeous woman, but no one would mistake her for an underaged kid trying to get a drink.

Leaving the bar, she goes to sit alone at a table. I roll my eyes, and Pete nudges me. “Is that the bitchy one?”

“We shouldn’t talk about that here,” I say, but still give him a nod.

He cringes and sighs. “I’m guessing there won’t be a lot of tip money flowing.”

“Who knows? People can surprise you.” I try to give Charlotte that little bit of credit. She did manage to get out a thank-you without choking, after all.

I eat at the bar until Charlotte joins me. She sits down and faces me. I arch an eyebrow at Pete and he makes himself scarce, following up with others as they come in.

“Hello, Charlotte. How’s the A/C?”

“Frosty.” Despite the comment, I can feel her frustration. I take another drink before I face her. She purses her lips for a moment.

“Anything else that needs to be fixed?” I cock my head to the side imagining my dick sliding in and out of her cleavage.

“No.”

“I’m surprised you’re talking to me for any other reason.”

She takes a slow breath. “Maybe I’m feeling nice today.”

“Maybe?” I smirk. “Didn’t know that ‘nice’ was in your vocabulary.”

“Well, when I talk to people who are kind and don’t make an active effort to be condescending—”

“It’s because they’re paying you, right?”

“Why do you have to go there?” Her hand tightens around her glass. “Fucking dick.”

“Is there a problem with the food or something, Charlotte? I’ve learned you don’t have any need for me unless it’s to fix something that’s not up to your standards.”

“Don’t think you know me after speaking to me twice.”

“I don’t know you, but your impression has been clear. Do you need me to hop behind the counter and make your drink colder, princess?”

She hisses between her teeth, frustrated. “No. The food has been the best part of being here.”

“Thank you.”

“I wasn’t complimenting you.”

“As the owner, I take it as a raving five-star review.” I chuckle and face her directly. Even with her attitude, it’s fun to ruffle her feathers. When she’s frustrated, her cheeks flush and she says exactly what she means, no thoughts kept in her head. Even if it’s scathing. I lean into her. “So, thank you.”

“You own the restaurant too?”

“And the yacht club.”

She exhales sharply, clearly annoyed. She shakes her head, but doesn’t seem to have anything to say to that. Charlotte wraps her lips around the straw in her drink, and I feel lust slam into me again. Something about her mouth, even around something as innocent as a straw, gets me bothered.

“So, you like the restaurant? Have you checked out anything else?”

“The pool is a little warm.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t control the weather. I’m afraid you have to blame Mother Nature for that one.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s the slightest hint of a smile.

“But, based on what you wear to swim in, isn’t the warmth welcome? Because that bikini was so small, covering only the essentials and serving to tempt in any and every other way.”

She narrows her eyes at me and her hand clenches around her glass again. “You…” Another shake of the head and she takes a long drink from her glass. Exhaling, she looks at me again. “I tried to have a nice conversation with you, but apparently that is impossible. You’re an asshole.”

“But clearly one you want to know, if you were willing to try to talk to me.”

“I was. Past tense. Thanks for clarifying things.”

I don’t particularly like how that went, but watching her walk away, swaying her hips from side to side makes me grin. Sassy and pissy. Charlotte glances at me one more time before disappearing and shakes her head. I like that heat in her, the same heat I feel whenever she’s around.

Plus, it helps that she stays pissy with me. It’s a terrible idea to pursue a tenant. The angrier we make each other, the easier it is to stay away from her. The easier it is to distract her from the fact that I’m almost constantly hard when she’s close to me.

I nod to Pete and tap my glass. Time for round two.