Blue Collar Billionaire: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 73) Read online

  BLUE COLLAR BILLIONAIRE

  AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE

  _______________________

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 73

  FLORA FERRARI

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  A Man Who Knows What He Wants Series

  Blue Collar Billionaire

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  Series

  Newsletter

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © 2018 by Flora Ferrari.

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS

  Book 1: Baby Lust

  Book 2: Veteran

  Book 3: Built

  Book 4: Bambino

  Book 5: Rescued

  Book 6: Leader

  Book 7: Professor

  Book 8: Burned

  Book 9: Worldly

  Book 10: Pistol

  Book 11: Policed

  Book 12: Driven

  Book 13: Lucky 13

  Book 14: Lumberjacked

  Book 15: Protector

  Book 16: Carpenter

  Book 17: Italian Stallion

  Book 18: Gardener

  Book 19: Budapest Billionaire’s Virgin

  Book 20: Billionaire’s Babysitter

  Book 21: Cocky CFO

  Book 22: Fireman’s Filthy 4th

  Book 23: Mechanic

  Book 24: SEAL’s Secret

  Book 25: Police, Pooch, and Smooch

  Book 26: Fireman’s Fake Fiancée

  Book 27: Billionaire’s Virgin Ballerina

  Book 28: Bitcoin Billionaire’s Babysitter

  Book 29: Veterans Day Daddy

  Book 30: Cowboy’s Christmas Carol

  Book 31: Police Officer’s Princess

  Book 32: Statham

  Book 33: Bodyguard

  Book 34: Greek God

  Book 35: Billionaire Single Dad's Babysitter

  Book 36: Mountain Man

  Book 37: SEAL’s Justice

  Book 38: Royal Romance

  Book 39: Doctor Mountain Man’s Special Delivery

  Book 40: Crocodile Dan D

  Book 41: Mountain Man’s Secret Baby

  Book 42: Doctor Bad Boy’s Secret Baby

  Book 43: Cop’s Babysitter

  Book 44: Nanny for the Cop Next Door

  Book 45: Small Town SEAL’s Saving Grace

  Book 46: Cop’s Fake Fiancée

  Book 47: Billionaire’s Nanny

  Book 48: Cowboy’s Babysitter

  Book 49: Steamy

  Book 50: Brother’s Best Friend

  Book 51: Possessive Professor

  Book 52: Firefighter’s Babysitter

  Book 53: Soldier’s Secret Baby

  Book 54: Ward’s Independence Day

  Book 55: Doctor Next Door

  Book 56: Possessive Policeman

  Book 57: Coached by the MMA Fighter

  Book 58: Boss’s Babysitter

  Book 59: Virgin in New York

  Book 60: Rock Star’s Baby

  Book 61: Possessive Protector

  Book 62: Possessive Australian

  Book 63: Best Friend’s Brother

  Book 64: Possessive Cowboy

  Book 65: Summer Romanced

  Book 66: Possessive Prince

  Book 67: Lovers’s Enemy

  Book 68: Cop’s Best Friend

  Book 69: Possessive Firefighter

  Book 70: Football Next Door

  Book 71: Doctor December

  Book 72: Possessive Canadian

  Book 73: Blue Collar Billionaire

  BLUE COLLAR BILLIONAIRE

  Blue Collar Billionaire is one way to describe my dad’s best friend.

  The older man I’ve been saving my first time for is another.

  He’s the first and only man I’ve ever felt anything for. Boys my age just don’t do it for me.

  And as a younger woman there’s a lot I can learn from this older man, but first he needs to learn just how I feel about him.

  When I start college and find my tiny apartment needs some repairs, my dad calls him to fix things…but what my dad doesn’t know is that I’m fixated on my dad’s best friend, the one who suddenly calls me “his.”

  And when he gets down on his knees to fix my leaky faucet suddenly I’m the one having dreams of getting on my own knees and fixing the other swollen pipe that looks like it’s about to burst.

  But will my dad explode when he finds out what’s going on between his daughter and his best friend?

  And will my dad’s best friend a.k.a. his blue collar buddy try and convince my dad that what we have is real…or convince me we’ve made a big mistake?

  *Blue Collar Billionaire is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

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  CHAPTER 1

  Ariella

  “You want me to call Beau?” my dad says. “He can fix anything.”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” I say just before my front teeth come down on my lower lip.

  It was because I had the exact same thought before I called my dad, but I didn’t have his number nor the guts to make the call.

  Plus how suspicious would that be? Just calling your dad’s best friend out of the blue to come over to your small, cramped, overheated studio apartment to fix my futon which also would double as my bed this first semester.

  But fortunately my dad made the call and now here I am, my face glued to the window, waiting for Beau’s truck to show up. And by window I mean the tiny little thing that’s barely two feet high and a foot and half wide that serves as my only source of “fresh” air, sunshine, and a glimpse into the outside world.

  But I didn’t enroll at U.S.C. to have fun. I’d come here to study architecture at the school Architectural Record named as the fifth best in the entire country. And I’m here because of him.

  Beau is an unassuming billionaire, with a b. He’s been in the construction business here in L.A. since he was just a kid. He started working summers laying asphalt with my dad when they were in high school. It was just to earn some extra money back then, but when my dad went on to college Beau stayed in the blue-collar business but moved vertically into
real estate construction and then commercial real estate where he made his fortune.

  And working with his hands and his body made him something else…the cities most eligible, hottest, and ripped bachelor. The guy practically works out for a living, preferring to get out there with his crew every day versus sitting around in an office and counting all his money.

  And I still remember the feeling of those giant, calloused, muscular fingers when he shook my hand after I offered it when I thanked him for the word he put in for me with the dean at U.S.C. The application process there is tough. I tried the early application process but hadn’t heard anything. I casually mentioned it to Beau when he was over at our house one day and literally the next morning the FedEx guy is knocking on my door asking me to sign for a letter.

  Inside? A personally signed acceptance of my application and welcome from the dean himself. Talk about a man who has friends in high places.

  And that’s the way Beau is. When I thanked him he pretended he had nothing to do with it and told me the timing must have just been a coincidence. He complimented me on my hard work and told me I must have gotten in on my own merit.

  I sure did work hard, but the truth was I surely got in on his merits and not just my own.

  And the following morning I received a second FedEx letter, which I also had to sign for, which said they’d reviewed my financial aid package and I’d be receiving a full ride scholarship.

  Thank you, Jesus! Scratch that. Thank you, Beau!

  He’s still acting oblivious anytime I try and thank him for what he did.

  But with L.A. experiencing record heat, and my apartment without air-conditioning, will he act oblivious to another small problem I’m having.

  The washing machine is broken and today was supposed to be laundry day. Instead of wearing something appropriate I’m going to be forced to wear my white spaghetti strap top that might just be a little too sheer and my short shorts that might be a little too short.

  I guess we’ll find out when he gets…

  I see his truck at the curb and he’s out of it in a flash, with a tool belt around his waist and a whole bunch of muscles under his white T-shirt.

  I feel my heart rate kick into overdrive and I push back from the window. I don’t want him to see me waiting for him like that. I don’t want him to know how anxious I am about seeing him for the first time without anyone else around.

  And I’m not sure I’m ready for him to know how I feel about him and just the kinds of thoughts that entails.

  Knock! Knock! Knock!

  I hear those thick knuckles of his rap against the door and now I’m practically hyperventilating.

  Stay cool, Ariella. Relax. He’s just here to get you in bed…I mean take a look at you in your bed…I mean fix your bed.

  This is going to be way more difficult than I thought.

  CHAPTER 2

  Beau

  I knocked way too hard.

  She’s going to know. She’s going to read my enthusiasm for her and know that ever since she came to me for help her senior year I’ve looked at her in a totally different way.

  Before she was always just my best friend Aaron’s kid.

  But when she asked me for help with “the real world,” it signaled something different to me.

  It told me she was crossing that threshold from adolescence into adulthood. She would be leaving home soon and going out there to fend for herself.

  But little did she know that would never be the case.

  I’ve got her back and dammit if I don’t want a whole lot more…as in all of her.

  She thinks I put in that word for her at U.S.C., but I’ve been playing it off so I think she’s not sure.

  She thinks I wanted to help her out, and I absolutely did. She deserved that much. I know how hard she studies. She’s always got her nose in a book and if you ask me she just needs a chance to show the world what she can do. This is my profession after all and I recognize talent and drive when I see it…and she’s got both in spades.

  And she’s got a whole lot more these days, as in a lot of curves I never noticed. A way of speaking that’s well beyond her eighteen and a half years. And what’s most important is she’s got my name written all over her.

  She’s mine. She may not know it yet, but I do. And it’s just a matter of time until the whole world knows, but I’ve got to do this right. I’ve only got one shot to make this work and I’m not going to blow it.

  And part of having that chance is the selfish reason I helped her get into U.S.C. I want her close to me. I want to be able to keep an eye on her at all times.

  And when something goes wrong, like it did today, I want her, or in this case her dad, to call me first to come by and make everything right. To be able to wrap my arms around her and tell her everything is going to be okay and then to make it okay. That’s what I want to do for her, and not just now but always.

  She’s just starting life out in this big bad world alone. I won’t allow that. I’ll be here to be her rock and this is my first opportunity.

  The door springs open and my mouth practically bounces straight down to the front step and then back up again slapping me in the face.

  She’s got on a tiny, white, form fitting top and I swear I can make out the outline of her areolas…and that’s just from my peripheral vision.

  It takes the will of a million of the strongest men all at once not to let my gaze drop from her eyes.

  And her eyes are so damn beautiful, like when you go diving off Catalina Island and then look up from the depths as the sun shines through the water. That blue and that piercing.

  And speaking of piercing I swear her nipples are about to cut through that thin fabric that makes up that thing that’s serving as a top. If I took it and wadded it up I swear it wouldn’t be much bigger, or thicker, than a handful of Kleenexes.

  And underneath that top is definitely a handful. Is she still growing? I thought girls developed earlier and were done by the time they finished high school.

  I guess she didn’t get the memo, and I’m second-guessing as to whether now is the right time or not to tell her just what’s on my mind.

  I told myself I would on the drive over here, but I don’t want her to think this is something based on lust.

  I want her to know this is real. This is something I’ve thought through, or at least as much as I could. How can you think your way through something that comes to you so naturally? Something that you desire so much that it consumes your thoughts all the time?

  In all my years I’ve never hit my finger with a hammer. Not once. Since that day we shook hands? Five and counting.

  At the gym I’m setting new personal records in all my lifts. I’ve just got so much energy right now that I literally can’t burn it off. I can work a full sixteen-hour day and still need to go to the gym to push iron plates around.

  And when I get home I don’t sleep. I just lie there, with a massive erection, wishing she was there with me so I could take her for the first time and move my hips in rhythm sending my big, hard rod in and out of her until we climaxed together and I filled her with my seed so she could have my child.

  And when I finally do pass out, usually around three thirty or four in the morning, who do you think I dream of?

  Yeah, she’s in my head twenty-four seven all right.

  And now I have to wonder if she’s playing mind games with me answering the door dressed like that.

  The erection that I have every damn night in bed is pushing against my Levi’s so hard right now I know there’s no way she doesn’t see it. No freaking way.

  This is so wrong and showing up like this with a massive hard-on is so inappropriate.

  And that’s not even considering the fact that I’m literally twice her age or that she’s my best friend’s daughter.

  I should just turn around right now and walk back to my truck and go.

  There are so many reasons why I should but there’s one reason why I wo
n’t…why I can’t.

  Her.

  “Hi,” she says.

  “Ariella,” I say.

  Nothing but silence.

  “Thanks for coming,” she says as she extends her hand again.

  My mind flashes back to that first handshake, which was the first time we ever touched. It seemed so simple and so innocent, but it was anything but.

  That was that spark that started this fire and I know if I take her hand now that fire is just going to continue raging out of control.

  I say “if” as if I have a choice. I long for her touch, to feel her skin against mine again as I extend my hand and right on cue I feel a shot of electricity shoot through my body that’s stronger than that time I stuck my finger in the wrong socket. That was a month ago and also a consequence of daydreaming about her.

  Her hand is so tiny and delicate and it fits completely inside mine. I think I could probably fit both inside one of my hands if I tried, but I’m really thinking of fitting something else inside her right now.