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  Quarantined With The Billionaire

  A Raunchy Lockdown Romance

  Melanie Bliss

  Copyright © 2020 Melanie Bliss

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Emma

  When I wake up that morning, I know that something’s wrong.

  Okay, so my head is pounding. My entire brain feels like a pile of melted mush. That’s probably not a good sign. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I’m hungover.

  Yuck. Memories from yesterday evening dance before my eyes, playing a horrible flashback reel of all my most embarrassing moments. I remember my roommate Victoria begging me to go out with her.

  “Let’s have one last bit of fun before we’re in lockdown,” she’d pleaded with me, thrusting a bottle of who-knows-what into my hands.

  I’m not usually the type to lose myself like that. Victoria is always trying to get me to drink with her and ‘have a bit of fun’, but somebody needs to be the sensible one. We’re both in our final year of college and there’s so much work we still have to do before we graduate. At least one of us needs to remember that.

  And yet something about her begging last night had gotten to me. Maybe it’s because of what I’d seen on the news… LOCKDOWN. CORONAVIRUS. QUARANTINE. It had seemed as if we were all about to be shut up in our houses and kept away from other human beings for the foreseeable future.

  So I’d said yes. A bit of fun couldn’t hurt anyone, could it?

  And I must have survived. That’s how I’m lying here, my eyes squeezed shut tightly. Even in the blackness, I know that the light from the morning will be too strong for me to handle… at least without my morning coffee to ease the pain.

  But I’ve been hungover before and it hasn’t been like this. I’ve never felt this sense of… ominousness. Like something terrible is about to happen and I haven’t realised it yet. I haven’t even opened my eyes yet, but I can’t shake it.

  Slowly and cautiously, I look up and take in what’s around me.

  Just like I’d suspected, I’m in a bed.

  But… it’s not my bed.

  And there’s a man lying next to me, his eyes closed in sleep. And he’s naked.

  Immediately, I clasp my hands over my mouth to stop the scream threatening to emerge.

  Oh my god. What have I done? Is this for real?

  This can’t be happening to me, I tell myself firmly. This isn’t me. I don’t just… end up in bed with strange men. Strange naked men.

  I look down at myself. To my absolute horror, he’s not the only one here currently stripped down to what’s natural. I’m completely naked. Instinctively, I pull the blanket higher in an attempt to preserve modesty… if I have any of that left.

  Thank god he’s asleep. I don’t know what I’d do if I’d had to wake up to anyone watching me. Maybe die of embarrassment?

  How am I supposed to get out of this situation? The naked man and I are only a few inches apart in bed. There’s a very real chance that if I try to move… I might stir him awake. And that’s the last thing I’d want.

  I keep my body entire still, pondering how to go about this. But… thinking is proving somewhat difficult.

  For one, there’s a naked man next to me.

  For two, this is a really stressful situation.

  For three? Oh my god, there’s a naked man next to me.

  He’s gorgeous, a tiny part of my brain speaks up without being asked. I scowl at myself, chiding my mind for thinking something so inappropriate when I’m stuck in danger, but… it’s true.

  I’m pretty sheltered. I’ve only really seen naked men before in TV and movies when they get to the steamy parts. But this has to be about as perfect as they come.

  He clearly works out. His entire body is made up of strong lines: strong cheekbones, strong arms, strong dents in his abdomen where his abs sit. There’s not a piece of him that doesn’t radiate power.

  Luckily, the small blanket we’re currently sharing is tactically covering other places on his body. Other important places. Yet my eyes are still drawn to below the man’s waist, where a glimpse of his tanned hips peeks out from beneath the sheet.

  What am I doing? Am I some sort of pervert?

  I give myself a mental slap. I have to concentrate. The important thing is getting out of this situation without causing a fuss. Carefully, I edge my way over to the side of the bed and-

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Busted. Oh god am I busted.

  The man is awake and looking at me. The involuntarily shiver that runs down my spine is almost violent in nature.

  “Um,” I say, “I’m just going to get up and-”

  “Lie back down,” he says firmly, pointing to the pillows.

  Holy cow. He’s not just telling me to do what he says… he’s ordering me.

  “Um, let me put some clothes on,” I squeak.

  “Clothes?” He shakes his head. “No, I’m not done with you yet-”

  ‘Done with me’? Then that means…

  “Last night,” I ask, my jaw dropping open. “Did we… did we…?”

  I can’t finish what I’m trying to ask. It’s too embarrassing. God, what would Victoria say if I told her that I might have accidentally lost my virginity to this strange, oddly beautiful naked man before me?

  “You don’t remember?” His brow furrows. “Really?”

  “Remember what?”

  “I don’t know how you could forget,” he says, propping himself up. The sheet slides down with him, revealing another few precious inches of his body. “Last night… the way you practically jumped me. The things you whispered in my ear… the way you begged me to take you back home…”

  I’m pretty sure my entire face has turned into a tomato with how red it is. “I didn’t- I wouldn’t-”

  “You are acting pretty differently now, though,” he says, looking me up and down. “I suppose it could have been the alcohol.”

  I am mortified. Beyond mortified. What must this guy think of me? And to think… I ‘jumped’ him? I can’t imagine myself doing anything like that. Not ever.

  I haven’t even kissed anyone before. Would drunk Emma really ever be so forwards?

  He stares at me, clearly thinking deeply.

  “Anyway,” he says, tapping impatiently on the pillow. “Lie down.”

  I frown. “Why?”

  “So I can finish what I started.”

  “You mean… last night, we didn’t…?”

  He laughs softly. “Oh, no. Not quite. You pulled us both into bed, stripped us naked, and then just passed out.” The man gestures to the pile of discarded clothing on the floor. It’s weird to see my underwear and delicate things intertangled with a man’s boxers. “

  Oh thank heavens. I can finally scrape back a shred of dignity. My virginity is still blessedly intact.

  But the man is still staring at me with watchful eyes. Eyes that seem to want something.

  And what’s he’s asking really sinks in… he wants me to lie down so we can make love.

  “I- I-” My voice comes out in a nervous stutter. “Do you mind passing me my clothes?”

  “You sure don’t want to lie down?” he asks, his voice cool and neutral. “You seemed pretty s
et on wanting it last night.”

  The man wants me. The thought sends a rush of something new and weird throughout my body, electrifying my every pore. He wants to make love to me right now. And all I’d have to do would be to let him.

  But none of this should have happened. Drunk Emma made a terrible decision, no matter how hot the strange man is or how tight his muscles look when he leans back with his arms up like he’s doing now.

  “This is a mistake. I’m not- I can’t-” I sigh, pointing to my clothes. “Please?”

  Mercifully, he scoops up my clothes from the floor beside him and throws them to me. His gaze feels like it lingers on my underwear for a second too long. I’m just thankful that I was wearing something nice last night - a dark red thong.

  As carefully as possible, I try to squeeze into my clothes without letting anything go on show. It’s tricky, considering the strange man keeps… staring at me. That would be enough to throw off anyone’s concentration.

  When I’m finally dressed, I still feel a bit exposed. I’m stuck wearing the tight-fitted black dress Victoria had forced me into last night. In a lot of ways, I’m showing more now that I was when I was covered by the blanket.

  “Have you seen my phone anywhere?” I ask the man, searching the room.

  He points to the dresser on the other side of the bedroom. Sure enough, my phone is there. It feels good to have it back in my hand. At least I can call someone to pick me up if I need to.

  I quickly unlock it, pressing my thumb against the fingerprint scanner. But the notifications that greet me aren’t quite what I expected.

  Of course, there’s the usual. My phone is always full of messages from Victoria about every subject under the sun. She’s an ambitious texter.

  VICTORIA: where r u?

  VICTORIA: emma??

  VICTORIA: did I see u with a guy lol

  But there’s also something else. A text message from a number I’ve never really received texts

  from before… A number my phone has auto labelled as the government.

  My heart drops as I read the message.

  “Are you reading it too?” the man asks from behind me. I turn around to see him clutching his phone, which looks far newer and shinier than mine. “A nationwide lockdown… that started this morning.”

  I look at the time. We’ve overslept, thanks to the late-night and the hangover. It’s already noon.

  “What does that mean?” I gasp.

  “It means we’re stuck here,” he says, frowning into his phone. “Stuck indoors - and isolated - for quite some time, I think.”

  My heart drops. “I have to get back home immediately.”

  I make for the door. If there’s anything else of mine here, I’m just going to have to leave it. There are more important things to worry about.

  “Didn’t you hear what I said?” he asks. “You have to stay here. The government has ordered a lockdown.”

  “That doesn’t mean I can’t go home,” I snap back. “I’ve just got to get back now, before it gets late.”

  “It’s too dangerous,” he shoots back. “It would take you hours to get home, anyway.”

  I blink. “Hours? Are you joking?”

  I don’t remember anything from last night, but… I certainly can’t imagine travelling for hours. I’d remember something like that, wouldn’t I?

  “We’re three hours out from the city,” the man says. “This is my private countryside retreat. You’ll be comfortable here… and safe.”

  “What the hell.” I put my foot down. “Who on earth has a private resort? Yeah, I don’t believe you. We didn’t travel hours to get here-”

  “We didn’t travel hours,” he replies simply. “We took my helicopter.”

  I almost laugh. Now he’s just being ludicrous. Nonsensical. If he’s going to lie to me, he may as well do it in a way that’s believable.

  I roll my eyes at the man. “Yeah right-”

  But then he stands up.

  The blanket falls off his body like a tidal wave crashing into the shore. He’s been naked the whole time, but now he’s standing like that with his full height towering over me. He’s tall. Definitely over six foot.

  Standing together like this, a spark of recognition hits me.

  “Wait…” I say. “You’re…”

  “You must know who I am, I expect,” he says, shrugging. “Do you understand now?”

  I nod. I do understand now, even though this is the craziest situation I’ve ever been in. I’ve seen this man’s face before. He’s not just a nobody.

  I’m stuck in quarantine with the ultra-rich, ultra-famous billionaire playboy Lucas Washington.

  Lucus

  Her mouth drops open.

  There’s a look people get when they recognise me, one of surprise and awe. Like they didn’t really believe I was a real person until they saw me in the flesh. And she certainly is seeing me in the flesh.

  I watch in amusement as her eyes wander down my body, and then dart back up in shock. Is she blushing?

  I smile. She’s definitely cute, and even more so when she’s flustered apparently. And quite a tease too, apparently, given last night.

  As she stammers for a bit, I take pity on her. “I’ll give you a moment,” I say. “Let me go make us breakfast. I’ll be just out the door.”

  I leave without dressing, a slight smile still on my face.

  As I close the door, it turns into a full-on grin. This is going to be an interesting day.

  Of course, I knew that the quarantine was coming. You don’t make as much money as me without making a few contacts in the government as well. Once they had slipped word to me that they were going to lockdown the country, I realised something: I was going to be terribly bored.

  No international holidays, no parties, and no women. Not even any work to do, if I sunk so low as to be desperate enough for that.

  That’s when I realised I needed a companion. At first, I’d thought of picking up a few friends and women and partying our way through the lockdown, but I knew that wasn’t the best move. The last thing I needed was the drama that came with that, and no way to escape. No, what I needed was just one woman.

  One woman to please me and to service me as I needed.

  My father might almost approve, I was practically settling down.

  I crack some eggs and mix them up. Scrambled eggs on toast would do, it was quick and easy. A little salt, a little pepper, and into the frying pan. I pop some slices of bread into the toaster and wait.

  I’d had the foresight to ensure my country retreat was well stocked. It was going to have to be, given we could be here for months. I’d made sure there were enough food and supplies for a whole year for two people. It sure was lucky I could cook, otherwise the second person here would have had to have been my chef, and frankly, the thought of being locked up with the uptight Frenchman was not particularly appealing.

  Not compared to the deliciously buxom alternative.

  As the eggs cook, I look at the bedroom door.

  How long will she last? How long will it be before she is begging me to take her, just like she had been last night?

  I’m not going to force her, or get her drunk or anything. That is distasteful. No, this little game of mine has rules. It is a fair competition and there will be no cheating. I am going to have her, sure, but only once she chooses. And she will.

  I stir the eggs in the pan, they were nearly done.

  My goal is simple, and there is just one question left: when will I have her?

  Usually, that’s barely a question. Women literally throw themselves at you when you’re as rich, famous and, dare I say, sexy as I. But this one, she was different. Sure, she’d begged for me to bring her home, and we had kissed a fair bit in my helicopter, but once we’d gotten back here it was different.

  She’d dragged me to the bedroom, and stripped us bare. I remember her on top of me, grinding me, kissing me. I remember her pulling my hands onto her breasts.
I remember her moaning, lightly, and the look in her eyes, pleading me to take her.

  But then there was hesitation. A pause in the momentum. I’d told her it was alright, we could slow down if she wanted.

  She’d nodded, and before I knew it she had snuggled up next to me. She mumbled something and then promptly fell asleep.

  Asleep. It would almost have been funny, if I hadn’t been incredibly hard and worked up. I’d wanted to push her over, and take her, but she’d just looked so calm, asleep in my arms, that I just let her sleep.

  I take the toast out of the toaster, butter it, and pour the eggs over it. A little garnish, another dash of seasoning and I was done.

  “Breakfast’s ready,” I call out.

  For a moment, there is silence. I wonder a little if she’ll come. Then I smile at the joke. She will be, sooner or later.

  Then the door slowly opens, and she emerges.

  In the light of the morning, I find myself faintly in awe of my own self-restraint. How on earth I managed to sleep naked next to such a beauty without fucking her, I can’t believe.

  “Morning,” I say with a smile. “You have me at a slight disadvantage, I didn’t quite get your name last night.”

  She blushes again. “Sorry, I’m Emma. I don’t usually-”

  “It’s alright,” I say. “Come, have some breakfast.”

  She sits down, and nibbles at the corner of a piece of toast. The next thing I know, her mouth is full and her plate is half empty. Clearly Emma was hungry.

  It’s good she’s eating, she’s going to need the energy.

  She’s back in her black dress from last night, and damn. It’s tight, short, and reveals exactly how perfect her body is. It was a good choice. No wonder she had caught my eye last night.

  She seems to have moved past my lack of clothing. Either that, or she hasn’t noticed, given we both are sitting at the table. Normally, I would have put a dressing gown or something on, but that would kind of ruin the point of her being here.

  As she continues to eat, I think. We’re going to be locked here for months, and as much as I’d considered letting my little game run on for a few days of teasing, after last night I don’t think I could stand that.