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My Best Friend’s Brother
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I can have any woman I want.
Until my sister’s best friend teaches me otherwise.
Sarah William’s the HOTTEST talk show host I know.
And she wants to interview me.
They call me the king of Wall Street – but I want to be the king of her ‘O’.
She’s smart, she’s spunky.
She’s my sister’s best friend.
But she doesn’t buy into my charm.
And that turns me on even more.
I’ll punish her for playing hard to get.
Deny her pleasure.
Until tears of frustration rise to her eyes.
Sarah Williams, I’ll make you mine.
And one night is all it’ll take.
***This is a full length 70,000 words novel with a happily ever after, no cliffhanger, no cheating, and plenty of steam. ***
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“Good afternoon, Dallas. Today, we have a very special guest here with us. Mason Baker, branded in the media as the second-coming of Steve Jobs, will be here with us today sharing his story, his success, and his secrets. Stick around because it’s going to be a doozy.”
“Sounds good to me,” my makeup artist said.
“You think so, Ang? I wasn’t sure if I should use his media persona in the opening or not,” I said.
“It’s what all the newspapers and magazines are saying about him. Can you believe his success? I think he made a deal with the devil,” she said and gave me a look.
“Have you seen his looks? I think he definitely made a deal with the devil.” I tried to hide the smirk playing at the edge of my mouth. Anyone with a pulse knew how fucking hot Mason was. Hell, he knew it too.
Angie and I giggled while she put on my makeup. In the three years I’d hosted my talk show in Dallas, she was the only veteran still here. ‘Does This Affect Dallas?’ was a show premise I had rolling around in the back of my mind for years before I finally pitched it to someone. All the talk shows nowadays were glorified gossip tables. I wanted something that would inform as well as entertain, a show that would dive into things that affected our beautiful city, breaking them down in entertaining ways to educate as well as distract.
And Mason Baker was just that.
“I can’t get over his dimples. I wanna poke my fingers in them,” Angie said.
“I could swim in those beautiful peridot eyes all day,” I said.
“And that thick, dark hair of his? Kill me in the face, please. I’d pay so much money to run my fingers through it.”
“His hair? I’d give anything to run my hands up those meaty arms of his. Did you see that picture of him in the media last week? Jogging around like he didn’t know the entire world was watching him?”
“Did you see the fucking video?” Angie asked. “The guy needs a damn jock strap.”
“There’s a video? Let me see.”
Angie put down the makeup and pulled her phone from her pocket. I watched the video and practically salivated, watching that cock swinging between his legs. The man was doing this on purpose. He had to be. No one made a hundred and fifty-seven million dollars in revenue their first year in business and didn’t understand he was being watched.
Then again, he wasn’t only known for his quickly-rising technology company.
“No wonder he’s a playboy,” I said, smirking. “That swinging cock could satisfy an entire block.”
“Then come back around for dessert,” Angie said, mumbling.
Out of all the interviews I’d done, I’d never been nervous. I had scored daily interviews with scandalous senators and had video interviews with some of the hottest names in Hollywood so they could talk about their charities. Anything that could educate Dallas and get them off their asses to help the world is what I focused on.
And Mason Baker’s product was no different.
His idea started with a social media campaign and the premise was simple, a device you could adhere to any surface to keep track of something. It came with an application you could put on your phone, tablet, or computer, and from there you could track up to thirty different devices. Thirty. You could stick it on the inside of your phone. You could wrap it around the keyring of your keys. It was pliable, bendable, waterproof, fireproof, and you couldn’t ruin it if you stepped on it.
The original campaign was set to raise two hundred thousand dollars, and it ended up raising almost four million fucking dollars.
All from donations.
The applications of this item were endless. You could put it on your car and track your car. You could put it on your children’s electronic toys and track where they were. Hell, you could put it on your fucking kid and track where they were.
The moment the product launched, it flew off the shelves, and it was Baker’s customer service setup that took the prize for that one. Complaints came flying in immediately from people who used it, and they used those complaints to tweak the product further. An updated product hit the shelves while those who complained about problems got a free upgraded replacement, and the product went viral.
Eight months into their official launch, they were trying to figure out how to ship overseas, and from there the rest is history. One hundred and fifty-seven million in flat-out revenue for their first year, and they’d only begun to scratch the surface.
It was absolutely incredible, and it was something that most definitely affected Dallas.
But those piercing green eyes and that muscular body. It was almost disarming how sexy this man was. Angie was finishing up my makeup while everyone started bustling around me, and that’s when I heard someone say it in the distance.