Cassandra Dee [Dee - Falling For My Enemy

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Falling for My Enemy: A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance

Morgan: I was hired to be a stewardess by the big bad billionaire himself, Stone Evans. I thought hed be another entitled jerk with too much money. But instead, the man is mouthwateringly gorgeous, with sculpted abs, a bronzed chest, and a giant weapon. But the billionaire makes me a naughty offer: my body, in exchange for information. Can I resist?

Stone: In the world I come from, corporate espionage is the norm. We all have spies planted with our competitors in order to cut dirty deals and gain the upper hand. But Morgan changes everything. Suddenly, the curvy girl makes me think twice. I want to bend her over backwards and make her take it all, hard and fast, but can I when the beautiful girl may be a spy?

Hey Readers Morgan and Stone are sheer filth when it comes to games of love and war. Their chemistry heats up the sheets so much that youll need a fire extinguisher just to keep from combusting. As always, an HEA and no cheating and no cliffhangers. Enjoy! Xoxo, Cassandra

C ome on Morgs, itll be fun, my friend Evelyn wheedled from the screen of my phone. I looked at my mom who lay on the floor of the apartment, her prone form stretched on the shabby floor.

Go, go! Sandra spoke weakly, gesturing with her free hand. Im fine here by myself.

No Mom, I cant, was my hushed whisper. I dont want to leave you here alone.

But Sandra wouldnt hear of it. She turned my way again, gesturing weakly.

Sweetheart, its Friday night, and you should go out. Besides, Im just doing my back exercises on the floor with this instructor on the TV, she said, pointing to our boxy set where an aged woman moved slowly, stretching her arms high towards the ceiling. Its nothing crazy. Go and have a good time.

I sighed because Sandra is all I have, and Im all Sandra has. Its always been my mom and me against the world since the very beginning. My dad has never been in the picture, and we used to live with my grandma in a cramped one bedroom. But fortunately or unfortunately, my mom has a bad back. It causes her excruciating pain, and she gets disability for it. That money keeps us alive, and its what got us the rent-controlled apartment we have in Queens. Of course, I live in Manhattan in a shabby shared apartment now, but I still think of this place as home.

As a result, going out isnt a priority for me, not when my mom takes dozens of medications a day and is unable to get out of bed sometimes. Id rather make sure shes as comfortable as possible, rather than partying and living it up like a normal teen girl.

But my mom wasnt having it.

Go! was her entreaty with a half-hearted smile that turned into a wince. Ill be fine. Youll only be gone a few hours. Live a little, sweetheart. Ill be okay.

Besides, wheedled Evelyn from my phone, my new boyfriend is going to meet us. Nick Prescott. Youll like him, she chortled. I wish you could meet him too, Mrs. Nelson! she sang, craning her head and waving to my mom from the screen.

Both Sandra and I laughed then because Evelyn can be ridiculous. My friends just like us: Evelyns family doesnt have much and we make do with what we have. But Evelyns come up with an idea: she wants to date wealthy seventy-year-olds because after they get married, the old guy will die, and leave her his fortune. Its morbid in my opinion, but its what Evelyn wants, and what my friend wants is what she gets.

Come on, my buddy entreated again. Youll like Nick, I promise.

My mom and I laughed again. This Nick person was probably eighty years old and using a walker, but who am I to judge? Besides, getting out could be fun. I hadnt been social in a month at least, and this could be a much-needed change.

I nodded.

Okay, okay. Where should I meet you?

The Firehouse, she proclaimed proudly. Nicks taking us there.

I gasped, eyes going wide.

But thats real expensive, was my hesitant reply. Drinks there are fifteen bucks a pop. You know I cant afford that.

Evelyn laughed again. Seriously Morgan, you think I havent thought of that? I cant afford it either. Nicks going to take care of it all, we wont have to spend a cent, she proclaimed proudly.

Sighing, I agreed. Again, Evelyn has a way of dating guys who are old as Methuselah and rich as Midas. A fifteen dollar drink likely wasnt going to make a difference to someone with a bulging wallet. Hanging up, I wandered into my room, staring into the tiny closet.

Wear something pretty! called my mom from the living room, wheezing as she did a series of slow leg lifts. Stretching and keeping conditioned is supposed to help with her back, so Sandras meticulous about getting through her hours of physical therapy each day.

I will, was my low mumble. Dont worry.

And slowly, I pulled on my one acceptable outfit. It was a plain purple cocktail dress that hugged my curves, emphasizing my hourglass figure. The fabric was tight, and I sighed as I looked into the mirror. As usual, I was busting out in a semi-embarrassing way.

Stay, I commanded my big Double Ds. Dont embarrass me. Dont wiggle and jiggle like marshmallows, was my entreaty.

But my body will always be my body, and I was born a big girl. Some ladies start as thin children, and blossom when they hit puberty. Not me. Ive always been curvy, and now at eighteen, its obvious. I have girls that sway and hips that knock like theyre doing a constant rhumba.

But its okay. I dont get out much, so its not like there are any guys pounding down my door asking me on dates. In fact, the opposite. There are no men period. Its just me and my mom most Friday nights. Thus, Sandras entreaties for me to get out of the house to meet people and socialize before I become a potato.

But now, standing in front of the Firehouse, I was intimidated. The club probably wasnt a crazy place because we live in a quiet little corner of Queens, New York. But partying isnt my normal thing, and the blaze of flashing lights and line of people out front unsettled me. A man rushed by, making me grab my purse strap in fear. Had I just been robbed? But no, its just how people are in a club environment, rude and pushy as they barrel towards the front of the line.

Suddenly, Evelyns voice cut in.

Hey Morgs, she sang, prancing up to where I stood behind the velvet rope. Come on out from behind there. Nicks a VIP and can get us in.

Tentatively, my hand reached for the velvet rope, but a bouncer beat me to it. Believe it or not, he wasnt here to kick me out. He was here to help me skip the line.

After you, ladies, the bear-like man growled. Courtesy of Mr. Prescott.