Mr. Bossy Billioanaire and I

It was considerably easier than she had anticipated.She walked right in behind Helena, Pamela, and Nancy. Tyler was easy to notice, sitting in the family room's primary chair.She spotted that a huge, heavy square coffee table, surrounded by comfy seats and a sofa, had been stripped of everything and shone like a little stage.Amaya followed Helena's lead and tossed her black trench coat, along with the other girls' seasonal clothes, over the edge of the couch.It was my first bachelor-thingy event. This should be intriguing. She expected them to start dancing right away, but instead they were brought drinks and introduced. Everyone just gave their first names. She followed Helena's lead once more and addressed herself as Daisy. And she requested a glass of water rather than anything alcoholic. They were also given gorgeous, sparkling dark theme masks with feathers, and Amaya realised this bachelor party had a theme. Between platters of spicy chips and dip and trays of cookies, fancy

How does she manage to undermine my resolve, anyway? Chase thought to himself as he went back into his room. He discovered her passed out and snoring, but he thought it was charming, and to his surprise, he found her fascinating. Chase sighed and went to the living room again; however, this time the room was filled with the echoes of laughter and the clinking of glasses, and amidst the merriment, one figure remained motionless beneath the balcony. "Tyler, wake up," Chase said. Tyler lay sprawled on the soft couch, his limbs splayed haphazardly, in a state of deep unconsciousness. The chaos of the party seemed to fade away as concerned whispers filled the air. "Chase, is he okay?" one of his cousins asked. "I hope so." Friends and acquaintances gathered around, their expressions a mix of worry and amusement. Some nudged Tyler gently, hoping to rouse him from his slumber, while others exchanged bewildered glances. It was clear that this unexpected turn of events had captured ever

Chase couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement and anticipation as he watched her confidently shed her inhibitions, revealing her alluring form. "I've never been with a woman with the same charisma as, you know," Chase murmured. "Really?" Well, that was surprising, Amaya pondered. "Yes." "Hmmm, oh well, I'm flattered." Her effortless ease and genuine sensuality were a stark contrast to the facade Chase had encountered so many times before. With each movement, she exuded a self-assuredness that captivated him, making his heart race and his desire intensify. "So, the kiss?" He asked with a longing gaze. "Yes, the k-kiss." She smiled invitingly. The soft glow of candlelight bathed the room, casting a warm, intimate ambiance that seemed to mirror the connection growing between them. As Amaya reclined on the couch, her body delicately outlined by the flickering flames, Chase felt an irresistible magnetic pull towards her. "You are amazing." His eyes traced the contours of her

When Amaya awoke, she didn't know how much time had gone by, but she knew the quilt had slid off her shoulders and she was chilly. The fire had been reduced to embers. The room was nearly completely dark. “Shit…shit!” She yanked on the quilt, got a bit more out from beneath Chase's prone body, and then began when she heard his voice. "Um—Daisy? Are you awake?" She was unsure. "Hmmm yes..." He rolled over and shifted his weight so they could cover themselves with the blanket while sleeping on the faux fur rug. "Good. Are you okay?" Chase inquired. She could sense the trepidation in his voice. "I'm fine; how about you?" In response, an arm wrapped around her waist and drew her close against him. "What do you think?" he said quietly. He was aroused again, hard and eager, she realised. She kissed him after searching for his face in the darkness. He replied. She discovered that because they'd been so prepared previously, it took a lot less playtime to get both of them ready. E

Six years later, "I'm sorry, sir," Chase's secretary remarked, his demeanour purposefully reserved, conveying the whole gamut of his emotions.Chase Johnson dispersed them.And until they suited him, he was not a man who normally accepted the presence of sentiments. Or helped him in some manner."I have taken the liberty of collecting yet another pool of candidates," Gabby continued in the same tone, for he was not the type of secretary who was hesitant to convey his ideas, sentiments, or thoughts, no matter how they were disguised. "As the previous several have met with disfavour," Chase knew that.He stood at the glass divider that divided him from the rest of his sleek, contemporary office, not at the window that looked out over one of Rome's richest areas. It was the ideal antidote to the fussiness and weight of Roman history that pervaded the rest of the city.Chase was all too familiar with the three-thousand-year-old city, from its hidden streets to its most famous piazzas. He