Billionaire Overboard Read online

  BILLIONAIRE OVERBOARD

  BLAKE FELDMAN

  CONTENTS

  I. SHIP 1

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  II. SHIP 2

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  III. SHIP 3

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  IV. SHIP 4

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Part I

  SHIP 1

  Chapter 1

  Lawson

  "Excuse me, I think I'm in this row."

  I looked up from the book I was reading on my Kindle app and almost dropped my phone. Standing over me was six feet and three inches of one of the hottest men I'd seen in my life.

  "Yeah, sure, let me get out of your way." I stood and let the guy into my row.

  "Thanks," he said, a light pink blush touching his cheeks. He bent over to stow his backpack under the seat in front of him, letting me admire his body without being caught. His back muscles were visible under a partially transparent white shirt listing various tournaments. It said that he was from Indiana.

  "Here for Spring Break?" I asked.

  "Yeah, I'm supposed to meet my mom. She went on a cruise with my sister, but I wasn't off yet. So we're all meeting in Tampa when the ship docks and my sister will head home."

  "How old are you?" I didn't know if he was legal. The shirt probably meant that he was in high school.

  "I'm 19. I have a few weeks left in my senior year, so I have a bad case of senioritis."

  I smirked. "I remember what that was like." I scratched my eyebrow, thinking about what it was like to be in the closet back then. I'd only played tennis, so I didn't face the same pressure as someone in a more high profile sport, but I remembered the pressure of being in Catholic school and not being able to say anything. All I had were illicit conversations over AIM with people I'd never meet in real life. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had thought about AIM. "Try not to get in too much trouble."

  He laughed. "Mom would never let me get too wild. She wants me to stay at home while I go to IU."

  "Oh, you're staying in state?"

  "I'm a National Merit Finalist, so I could go wherever, but IU offered me a pretty good deal." He shrugged. "It beats graduating with six figures of debt and trying to find a job right away. IU has a pretty good study abroad office, too, with a lot of programs. I figure that I'm going to try to get out of the country as much as I can. I'm sick of cornfields and cow pastures. I've been on a few cruises with my mom through the Caribbean, so I have a passport, but I want to..."

  "Be on your own." I nodded. "I get it. Growing up in the Midwest can leave you with a bad case of wanderlust."

  "Yeah." I didn't know if the pink in his cheeks was from opening up to a stranger or the fact that I just said "lust," but I'd take what I could get.

  "What brings you to Tampa?" he asked, running a hand through his brown hair.

  "Work," I said, even though that was a very succinct explanation. I had a few meetings with old buddies in town, the kind that I did partnerships with. We'd drink good whiskey and talk about the old times. "I went to USF, so I like visiting sometimes."

  "That's cool," he said. "Where do you live?"

  "Kind of a personal question, isn't it? We don't know each other's names." Now his cheeks were tomato red. The red cheeks made him look younger, if that was even possible without getting into too young territory.

  "I'm sorry, I..." he stammered.

  "Just teasing," I said, which made him turn even redder. "I'm Lawson from Boston. Cape Cod, really."

  "Oh, that's cool," he said. "I'm Albert. Al, I guess. My mom wants me to go to MIT, but I've already said that IU is my first choice, so..." he trailed off. "I visited but it didn't really seem like much."

  "And living in the middle of cornfields and cow pastures did?"

  His face darkened for a minute and I smiled to show him that I was kidding. "I'm joking. I went to IU for a summer language workshop during grad school. It's kind of a ghost town, but it was fun. My friends and I would drive up to Indy on Saturday nights and crash on someone's couch."

  He got his smile back. "I know that it's kind of isolated, but I think it's the best place for me."

  "What are you studying?" I couldn't seem to read him at all.

  "Chinese."

  "Kind of unusual." For a young kid, I couldn't imagine anything worse. It took a lot of time for monolingual English speakers to learn Mandarin.

  "I've taken Mandarin for four years," he explained. "So it's what I know and what I'm best at."

  "You've won awards in it, haven't you?"

  He gaped at me, his jaw slack. "How did you know?"

  How could I explain to him that I innately understood the pride that he'd taken in his ability to learn Mandarin? His high school would've built up his expectations so that he thought he was the best at it. I didn't know if his first Mandarin college class would burst his bubble, but he wasn't likely to hold onto that idea all the way through. I shook my head, but I didn't let him see it. I remembered what it was like to be in high school and believe that the whole world was open to me.

  "What do you do?"

  "I'm in real estate. Boring stuff, really."

  "Oh." I could tell that he was going to fumble the conversation, because nobody really liked talking about real estate unless that conversation made them money. "You said you went to grad school," he continued. "What for?"

  "A degree in Korean literature."

  He did his fish impression again, which made me conceal a smile. "You didn't choose Chinese?"

  "Listen, kid," I went, "I almost tanked my first semester when I was taking Mandarin. Everyone told me that the Chinese were going to take over the world and that there'd be a lot of jobs for people who spoke Mandarin. You know what I learned?"

  "What?" he said, tilting his head.

  "Mandarin is horrible. And there are more English speakers in China than there are in the US."

  He blinked at me. "But..."

  "Are you going to do what everyone else does? Are you a follower?"

  I could see him turning it over in his mind. "No, but..."

  “You want to be a lemming? Listen, kid, if you spend the rest of your life doing what other people want you to do, you're going to end up in a place that you won't like."

  He blinked at me like an owl. I flashed a grin. "Other people could include me. You can tell me to fuck off."

  Giving him permission to give me the finger made him feel better. I could see his shoulders relax and his posture grow less defensive. "No, I won't tell you to fuck off."

  "I have a lot of friends who are in middle management now. They went to school, got a good degree, and got a 9 to 5. And now they have a wife and kids, plus a mortgage that keeps them in that same job. And they don't have time for dreams anymore."

  He didn't meet my eyes and looked down at my watch. "Are you one of those people?"

  "I don't have a wife and kids, if t
hat's what you mean." I adjusted my Patek Philippe watch on my wrist.

  "It looks... expensive." He cleared his throat. "I mean, if that's what you're into."

  "A watch just tells time. And I think you might be surprised by what I'm into." I gave him a wink, then I watched as he struggled to decipher whether I had a deeper meaning. I did. I wanted this nineteen-year-old boy to go somewhere that we'd have a little privacy and do things that would expand his horizons. But I still had a streak of decency in me, so instead I decided to loosen up. I got the attention of a flight attendant. "Can I have some Jack, please?"

  "Right away, sir." She came back with those mini-bottles of alcohol, which I threw down the hatch. I might be ruthless when I went after what I wanted, but even I had some morals. This teenager was not a good idea. Stripping him in the forward bathroom reserved for first class and bending him over would be hard in such a tight space. But the mental image of his ass when he bent over was making me uncomfortably and visibly hard. I took a magazine and opened it up, covering my erection.

  "You like reading about gardening?" Al asked.

  I mentally cursed. "Yes." No. Fuck. If I put down the magazine, he was going to notice that his proximity was getting me hard. I had no business corrupting some innocent kid. He was still in high school, which made it even worse. I kept pretending to read it, even if I had a black thumb. I saw him reach into his pocket to bring out his cell phone and use Instagram. Making sure he couldn't notice, I looked at what he was looking at. His entire feed was full of naked men. Now, maybe he just had a lot of male friends who happened to be models. But my bet was that he was gay. My gaydar wasn't perfect, but I had a strong feeling that I could reel him in. The real question was just how I expected to do that. He said that he was meeting his mom. I needed to find out if he had time before that happened and if I could take him home with me. I'd cancel drinks with my buddies in a heartbeat for some afternoon delight.

  I leaned my head against the seat and closed my eyes, letting the magazine drop straight into my lap. I thought about the ways that I'd seduce him or convince him to give me a shot. He was far too young. If I were sober, I’d stop myself. The Jack made it seem like a really good idea, though.

  Chapter 2

  Albert

  Fuck, his cock was huge. I didn't know if it was how the magazine had fallen, but it looked like he had a huge boner that was tenting the magazine. And when I leaned forward to get a better perspective on what was going on in his lap, I saw that it was massive, wider than a Coke can. He was probably dreaming about his hot girlfriend. I bet that he had multiple women who'd chase after an obviously successful businessman who looked like that. I looked at his fancy watch again. He lived in a different world. The only reason that I was in first class was because my mom had used her bonus mileage to purchase an upgrade for me. I didn't even know why she'd done it.

  I knew that the guy next to me was probably straight as an arrow, but the sheer girth of his dick somehow was getting me hot and bothered. I'd only seen things that size in adult videos, the kind that I had to lock my bedroom door to watch when I was sure that Mom was gone. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, reaching for a magazine of my own. I only wished that the guy in a suit next to me was into guys. I wondered what it would feel like to wrap my lips around it. My boner pulsed, confirming that it would be a great idea to suck a stranger's dick in my mouth. Mile high club. Classy.

  I had such bad senioritis that I hadn't started writing my final paper for my English literature class. I knew that I should've already started, but I hadn't even cracked open the book. Since I was too hot and bothered to fall asleep like my seat mate, I opened the Kindle app on my phone to start reading it. I got through two chapters before I had to pee. I was not looking forward to walking through the cabin with my boner sticking out. I secretly tucked it into my waistband. I didn't want to wake up my neighbor. I tried to step over the stranger's lap, but I ended up falling straight into his lap and waking him.

  Instead of cursing me out, he joked, "There are worse ways to wake up than with a hot guy in my lap."

  I could feel my cheeks getting hot. Instead of just staying in my cheeks, though, my blush want to my forehead and my neck. I wanted to die. "I'm so sorry, I wanted to get out and I didn't want to wake you up."

  With a wink he said, "I didn't mind that kind of wakeup call."

  My heart was pounding a mile a minute. I forgot about my full bladder as I digested what he'd said. He was gay. He said I was hot. I mean, he was probably gay, right? I walked into the forward cabin bathroom, still thinking about it even as I washed my hands. How could I tell him that I wanted to... I didn't even know what I wanted to do.

  Someone knocked on the door. It was probably someone who needed to get into the bathroom, so I dried my hands and opened the door. "I didn't mean to take so long. I'm sorry."

  I didn't get anything else before a big body was pushing me against the wall, locking the door behind us, and tilting my face up for his kiss. His tongue invaded my mouth, like he was a dying man trapped in a desert and the only source of water available was inside of my mouth. I felt my knees go weak as he pressed just the right spots inside of my mouth. I couldn't breathe at all, but maybe I didn't even want to.

  I grabbed his ass and pulled him closer to me. I could feel his giant dick pushing into my stomach. I rubbed against it like I had wanted to when I saw it below the magazine.

  I heard someone knocking on the door. "Excuse me! I really need to go."

  "Busted," I whispered to Lawson.

  "I have a bad stomachache," Lawson said. "I'm going to be here for a while. You need to go to the other lavatory in the back.”

  I heard a huge sigh. "Fine."

  "Too close," I breathed. "We need to get back to our seats. I'll go first." Pushing past his big body in a very cramped space, I wiggled out into the aisle. I hoped I didn't look like I'd just been making out with a stranger. I ran my hands through my hair and made sure everything was in place as I sat down in my seat. I was sure that the blush in my cheeks didn't look suspicious to anybody. Right. I could see the lady in the row across the aisle smirking at me, but she wasn't saying anything. She was holding a Kindle Oasis in her hand, so she'd been busy enough while I'd been otherwise occupied.

  A few minutes later, Lawson sauntered back into his seat. He looked like all he'd done was find a tissue to blow his nose. Every hair was perfectly in place. He picked up the gardening magazine that hadn't been very effective in concealing his erection before dropping it. It slid in front of my feet.

  He pulled up the armrest. "Excuse me," he murmured as he leaned over. I could see the back of his head. I could see that he was "bracing" himself with a hand between my spread legs. He was supposedly picking up the magazine, but he seemed to be taking his time with it. And the hand that was between my legs was cradling my erection, which made my hips surge. I hoped that nobody could see us. I had to admit that the fear of discovery was turning me on.

  He got back up. "Thanks for letting me have what I needed."

  "Uh huh," I said. I wasn't at my most coherent after someone gripped my cock, especially someone I'd met today. I wasn't really out of the closet. I grew up with a fervently religious mom and went to youth group every week, rain or shine. I was waiting until college to try to explore. It was looking like I was going to make things happen today. I didn't know how I felt about having the decision removed from my hands. It wasn't my first kiss. I'd dated a bunch of girls in high school. I hadn't settled down with any of them. I had a dumb reputation as a player, because I dated girls for a month or two before moving on. But they didn't have anything that I actually liked. I'd had my first kiss because a girl got handsy with me after homecoming and pushed me into a dark corner where nobody could see her shove her tongue inside of my mouth. I hadn't known what to do. She felt like she was actually eating me, like Bast in the first chapter of one of Neil Gaiman's books. She was really pretty, don't get me wrong, but she just didn't do any
thing for me, even with her hands down my pants. I'd pushed her away and jumped in my car. I tried to tell myself that I was bi because I still dated women, but I was just kidding myself. Even the prettiest girls at school didn't do anything for me, and I’d run through far too many of them.

  "I have an apartment that's not too far from TPA. You wanna come over for a snack? I can ask my concierge to order a pizza and keep it until we're there."

  "A concierge?" I was flying in first class next to someone who'd had his hand on my dick and lived in an apartment that had a concierge.

  "Yeah, there's an app for that."

  "Uh, sure."

  "Pepperoni ok?"

  "Yeah." It was like hanging out with someone after lacrosse practice but weird because it was going to be sexual. And unlike my awkward and unsatisfying fumbles with girls, it'd be real this time. I didn't know if it would last past the next few hours, because I had to meet up with my mom and do what I came to Tampa for. But I had only planned on staying in a Starbucks near the restaurant where I was supposed to meet my mom. I had time to kill. I watched him open up an app on his phone and request food. What would it be like to live that kind of life, where people's whole jobs existed to make yours easier? I wished that we had a concierge at home. I guessed I had a mom, but I didn’t know if she actually made my life easier.

  "You do that a lot? Get your concierge to handle this for you?"

  "Normally it's my assistant, but she's back in Boston." I swore that his eyes twinkled at me. "And she's a nag, so she makes me eat vegetables sometimes."

  I laughed, feeling my heart jolt weirdly in my chest. His smile was making me feel things I never felt before. In high school, I wasn't going to explore with anybody. If it got out that I was gay, I was going to be kicked off of the lacrosse team and my mom would completely freak out. It was cool to go to a religious high school in some ways, because we didn't have to exactly follow the state curriculum, but it sucked in other ways. In public school, I'd have more protection. But with the way that the American laws worked, religious freedom meant that I could get kicked out for being gay. It was just the way that it was. And here was this sexy stranger, so eager and ready to take me home with him. I'd make sure to text my best friend about meeting someone. For most people, their cell phones didn't work in the air and it wasn't possible to text people. But I had Project Fi through Google and my Internet connection let me text her, although I could've easily done it through Facebook Messenger as long as I didn't mind Zuckerberg and his drones doing ads based on my messages.