Page 3 of Her Older Billionaire

It wasn’t until I stopped for a quick nightcap before heading home that things changed.

I’ve never been big on fate or love at first sight, but it’s hard to argue with reality. Hannah is it for me—the woman of my dreams—curves for days, a gorgeous smile, and a vulnerability in her eyes that makes me want to physically demolishanyonewho tries to hurt her.

There’s no way I’ll be able to concentrate today. Normally, my home office is my sacred work space. I hate paperwork, so when I have to, I come in and put my head down until I get my shit done.

I’d originally planned to spend the day in my home office getting paperwork done, but that idea went to hell quickly. I haven’t been able to concentrate on anything but Hannah since I let her leave last night. It wasn’t until I got home that I realized I’d never even told her my name.

I’d texted her as soon as she left, “This is Beckham.” She replied with, “Nice to meet you,” and a smiley emoji. I run my hands through my hair again. I didn’t get where I am in business by waffling. No. When there’s something I want, I go for it.

According to my distractingly hard cock, I want Hannah.

All I can think about is how her luscious curves pressed against me. Her plump ass fit perfectly in my hands, and her tits…God, her tits. Those soft, heavy globes. I can’t wait to see her nipples, and introduce them to my tongue.

I loosen my belt and unzip my pants. Letting my thick cock spring free. I’ve never jacked off in my office before, but the thought of Hannah has me on edge. Precum leaks from the tip of my cock as I imagine her cherry red lips wrapped around my length

A knock on my office door interrupts my fantasy. I can tell it’s my daughter, Allie, though why she’s coming to me first thing in the morning is a question. She knows this is my working space. I quickly roll my chair forward so the desk hides my bottom half. Just in time, too, as she lets herself in without waiting for my answer.

“Hi, Daddy.” She enters the room and stands in front of my desk, but my attention is caught on the woman entering the room behind her. It’s Hannah.

Holy fuck. My daughter is Hannah’s best friend.

I knew she was younger than me, but I had no idea she and my daughter were the same age. Somehow, it makes her even hotter.

Years of practice keeping a straight face in business meetings hold me in good stead. Outwardly, I adopt a pleasant smile, while internally my mind races at a hundred miles per hour. As the owner of multiple million-dollar companies, I’ve learned to take an opportunity when it’s presented, and this moment, this woman, is clearly meant to be taken.

Hannah, however, looks like she’s about to panic. The urge to protect my girl takes over me, and I nod at her, letting her know I’ll let her take the lead.

I focus on the conversation where Allie finishes her introductions, “...and this is my father.”

“Hello, Mr. Pearce. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Hannah.” I can’t keep the grin out of my voice as I ask, “What brings you to our town?”

Allie interrupts, “Oh, Daddy, it’s the worst. Hannah just moved here. She had some housing plans, but they fell through. Now she doesn’t have any place to live.” A crafty gleam enters my daughter’s eyes. I recognize it because she got it from me, so I’m not surprised when she offers her proposal. “I was thinking she could stay with us permanently.”

Hannah's mouth drops open in shock as she stares at my daughter. It’s obvious that she and Allie didn’t discuss this in advance. Allie knows how to work a negotiation. She’s smart and savvy, just like me. She knows it’s almost impossible to refuse a kind offer face to face. And her plan fits into mine perfectly.

“We live just a few blocks from the local university. We have plenty of room.” Allie ticks each point off with her fingers. “Free room and board, I wouldn’t be alone in the house with only my grumpy father for company, and there are plenty of opportunities for work in the area.”

By the end of Allie’s speech, Hannah is rolling her eyes and biting back a grin. Allie walks to the bar and starts pouring herself a drink.

But I can’t take my eyes off Hannah. Everything about her—her smile, her curves, her sassiness—appeals to the deepest part of me. I give her what I hope is a considering look, but it’s really just an excuse to visually devour her. She’s wearing a pair of jeans that look like they’re painted on her curves and a white v-neck blouse. I want to rip all of it off so I can claim the goddess underneath.

My cock bobs under the desk, still free from restraint. With Hannah right in front of me, I can smell her sweet honey vanilla scent, and I harden like a steel rod. I firmly grip my length under the desk, slowly rubbing my hand up and down my shaft. I stare at Hannah until she looks at me. The heat flares in her eyes, matching the fires in my own. Her eyes widen as she notices the gentle movement of my arm and my bicep flexing. I watch a shiver travel from her neck to her toes.

My eyes never leave Hannah as I respond to my daughter with a gravelly voice, “I’d love to have Hannah come in our home.”

Now she’s in my territory, and I have no shame. Hannah is mine. She belongs to me, and it’s my privilege to protect her, provide for her, and satisfy her. And it’s only a matter of time before she acknowledges that she’s mine.

The girls leave my office. I lean back and close my eyes, a grin creeping onto my face. I visualize Hannah as I just saw her, standing in front of my desk, only now she’s stripping her off her clothes one piece at a time.

First the blouse, then the jeans, then anything else until finally she’s in front of me naked, her pussy gleaming with moisture. I squeeze my shaft tighter and pump even harder and faster, imagining licking her sweet honey. I come, grunting, barely satisfied. Knowing, this is the last time my cum will land anywhere but deep inside my woman’s womb.

Chapter 3

Hannah

I lie in my bed in the room Allie gave me and stare at the ceiling. It’s a nice ceiling. A billionaire’s ceiling. Beckham’s ceiling. Beckham’s room. Beckham’s bed. Oh God, don’t think about Beckham in bed.

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