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  All Shook Up

  Irresistible Billionaires

  Ashley Bostock

  Copyright © 2018 by Ashley Bostock

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of 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 products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, and/or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and owners of various products references in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of any and all trademarks in this work of fiction are not authorized or in any way associated with, or sponsored by the owners of said trademarks.

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-948402-06-4

  All Shook Up

  Written by Ashley Bostock

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  Photography: CJC Photography/ Chris Correia

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  Cover Model: Tanner Chidester

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  Cover Design: Bookin’ It Designs

  Mom

  You’re always on my mind.

  Contents

  Not To Miss!

  Cole Carrington Exclusive Interview

  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

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Afterword

  Ashley’s Playlist

  Also by Ashley Bostock

  About the Author

  Not To Miss!

  Would you like to have a free copy of Wet - the first book in my Love in Lone Star Series? With that, you also get One Summer Night and All I Want For Christmas if you sign up for my newsletter.

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  Website: www.ashleybostock.com

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  Cole Carrington Exclusive Interview

  1.Do you prefer a suit or jeans and a t-shirt?

  Always a suit and tie. It’s more professional. It’s a power move.

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  2.What’s your go-to adult beverage?

  I don’t drink much. When I do? Beer is fine. Or Jack and Coke.

  * * *

  3.Are you an early riser or do you sleep in?

  Early riser…I wish I could sleep in.

  * * *

  4.Top or bottom?...or behind?

  Any way that’ll make her come.

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  5.Favorite movie quote?

  From Shawshank Redemption: Guess it comes down to a simple choice really. Get busy living or get busy dying.

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  6.First thing you notice about a woman

  Her smile.

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  7.Work out then sex OR sex then work out?

  Sex then work out.

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  8.If your life was a movie, what song would be on the soundtrack?

  Takin’ Care of Business. Michael already picked that? Screw him. Fine. Dream On by Aerosmith. Although Takin’ Care of Business is better. Why did he get to pick first?

  * * *

  9.Are you a tits or ass kind of guy?

  Ass

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  10.Do you prefer matching bra and panties on a woman?

  I cringe to think otherwise.

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  11. Finish this sentence: Business is __________.

  Business

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  12. Do you post pics of you and your dates on social media?

  I don’t do social media.

  Chapter One

  Jillian Winters knew by the tight, strained expression on Tasha’s face, that something was up. The older woman nibbled on her thumb as she made her way past the barely-there lingerie which filled most of the store and the small corner of ‘Pleasurable Selfies’ which was enough to keep any woman like Tasha as far away from the boutique as one could get.

  She headed toward Jillian who stood behind the counter folding her newest shipment of women’s stockings. A flicker of apprehension tore through Jillian as she thought of any news Tasha might be delivering.

  Tasha owned the building that Jillian rented for her boutique, The Peekeasy, and the older woman rarely—if ever—made her way into the store if she didn’t have to. She was the epitome of conservative and a firm believer in being discreet about what one wore beneath her clothes.

  Jillian smiled. “Tasha, I’m surprised to see you. Is everything okay?”

  Tasha rested her elbows on the white countertop and leaned in, her voice just above a whisper. “I had to sell, Jillian. I’m sorry. The new owner will be here any moment and I rushed over to give you time to process the information.”

  Jillian stopped mid-fold, unable to fully grasp what this meant. “The building? Oh, Tasha. Why? I had no idea it was for sale.” Still trying to process the information, something else occurred to Jillian. “Wait. You sold me with it, right? As in, the new owners will still honor my lease?” Her heart dropped full-speed into her stomach while she waited for Tasha to answer.

  “Of course.” Her ex-landlord chuckled. “Part of the agreement was that he takes your lease. He will decide whether or not to renew it, keep in mind. You and I have been going month to month since March.”

  “What? No, we haven’t. I mailed you the signed lease back. I have a signed lease for another nine months!” Jillian’s voice rose as she felt her world crashing down around her. Don’t panic. Not yet. It was close, she was on the verge of a full meltdown. But surely there was some misunderstanding.

  “I have no current lease, Jillian. Only the one you signed in March 2014 and that expired in March of this year. You’ve been month to month ever since.”

  “Why wouldn’t you have asked me?”

  Then it hit her, toppling into her like a falling brick wall. Tasha had been planning to sell. Having committed to any tenant for another year wouldn’t make her selling offer as strong. This was Jillian’s fault. She should have followed up with Tasha. Damn it, why hadn’t she? Jillian knew she hadn’t received the signed lease agreement back from Tasha and had simply chalked it up to Tasha’s refusal to step foot inside her boutique. A tense silence filled the room. Tasha patted the counter in a conciliatory manner.

  “When I sent you the agreement and never got it back, I decided it was best to sell. It worked better for me if you were on a month-to-month basis.”

  Well, at least she was honest. Refusing to go down a path she couldn’t fix, Jillian attempted to put her head on straight and think through what this meant for her. To think through the pounding in her head. The vomit trying to escape from her stomach.

  “Who is the new owner? What do they plan to do with the space?” Jillian asked as calmly as she could.

  “Cole Carrington is the new
owner and I can only imagine that he wants it for its ideal location,” Tasha said.

  “Who’s Cole Carrington?” Jillian asked. As if she’d asked for a wish and a genie was granting it, Jillian’s shop bell rang as the wooden door swung open. She knew instantly that the man taking up the entire space of the doorway, wearing a black tailor-made suit was the one and only, Cole Carrington.

  The air around her crackled as he took in his surroundings and Jillian wondered what he was thinking as he checked her store out. His eyes roamed over all the shelves and tables where every kind and color of lingerie was on display. The man acted as if neither woman was standing there as his head tilted one way and then another way, sizing up her inventory.

  He gazed at the few racks that displayed babydolls and bodices, and an overwhelming sensation traveled through her chest and straight down to the pit of her stomach. The blazing sunlight made it hard for her to get a really good look at him, but his presence alone was enough to make the small hairs on the back of her neck stand tall.

  “Mr. Carrington, I was just explaining to Jillian that you’re the new owner.” Tasha filled the silence as she walked away from Jillian toward Mr. Carrington. The door swooshed shut, the bright light no longer blinding her. He looked at her. Their gazes locked from across the room, maybe time stood still for a moment—she couldn’t be sure.

  He bent his head toward Tasha’s ear and whatever he whispered—well, Tasha turned to Jillian, waved awkwardly and hustled out the front door, leaving Mr. Carrington and her alone.

  He was tall and well-built—enough so that Jillian momentarily panicked at the idea of being left with the stranger. But when he sauntered closer to her, not up to the counter like a customer would but around it so he was basically next to her, she forgot everything as she fell into the depths of his mysterious green eyes. Green eyes so vivid, they were almost unreal.

  “Hi.” She spoke in a near whisper, her throat suddenly too dry.

  “I gather you’re the owner of The Peekeasy?” He pulled some papers from his fancy leather folder and began reading them over. Jillian took the opportunity to study him. He had a strong jaw, a small cleft in his chin and perfectly shaped eyebrows. The smattering of facial hair along his chin, up his cheeks and around his decadent mouth were barely evident—merely hinting that the day was almost over. She swallowed as quietly as she could, imagining what the smooth skin of his face would feel like against her fingertips. His hair was like any other shade of random brown but somehow, it was a stark contrast against the mossy green of his eyes – green eyes that matched his tie perfectly.

  She was admiring the full Cupid’s bow of his lips when his mouth quirked into a slight grin. “Am I right?”

  Jillian’s gaze traveled slowly from his mouth to his eyes. “About what?”

  “The owner? You rent this place?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’m Jillian Winters. Owner of The Peekeasy,” she answered proudly. She slid her hand out in front of her in a polite gesture. His gaze drifted to her outstretched hand before he set the papers on the counter and gripped her palm. It was a gentle handshake but managed to leave her trembling. His fingers were long and thick as they held her smaller, dainty ones. The two of them gazed at one another longer than necessary and once again, she felt like she was being drawn into his eyes by some magical force. She inhaled deeply, pulling oxygen into her lungs.

  The man was…breathtaking.

  “Cole Carrington. Nice to meet you. I see that you’re on a month-to-month lease.”

  “Apparently,” she said dryly.

  He looked around her store again. His eyes warmed as they settled on the Pleasurable Selfies corner. Unlike Tasha, he took his time perusing the items on the shelves—waterproof vibrators, edible panties and boxers, flavored lubricants, handcuffs, party favors—his gaze traveled in slow motion as she watched him take in every single piece of merchandise.

  When he turned toward her, she felt as if he’d pulled away every facade of herself. She was completely exposed. Not like the naked exposed where one dreamt about being on stage in their underwear in front of their peers. But the kind where, with that one single glance, he could look into her heart and read into her soul. To simply know her deepest, darkest secrets as well as all her desires in that one brief moment. That he and he alone, could give her every fantasy she’d ever imagined.

  “According to the terms of your lease, the landlord has to give you forty-five days’ notice whether or not said landlord is going to renew.”

  She blinked, pulling herself together. Who was this guy? “Yes,” Jillian answered. “Please tell me you aren’t here to terminate it? You just bought the place.” She didn’t know Cole, but she knew the look of remorse and if she had to guess, it was a look he mastered well. Her heart slammed into her chest. Her entire life—her hopes, her dreams, her aspirations to be the next big thing—all started sliding slowly on the whirl cycle down the drain. Noooo. Please, no. Her throat was thick as she tried to swallow.

  “I’m sorry. I will not be renewing your lease.” He said it with such finality and in an all-business tone, Jillian didn’t dare ask him to change his mind. This was it. Her life was crumbling before her. Every tear, every sleepless night, every damn back ache she’d gotten from turning The Peekeasy from scribbles on paper into a store, was being ended by one swift and powerful move from the new landlord.

  She was in such a state of shock that when he turned away, she didn’t follow. She simply stood, staring at his large, suit-covered backside—a mighty fine one—but she wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of that. No. Not when he just turned her life into an upheaval. How was she going to find another empty retail site like this in forty-five days? Not to mention the fact that she was in Lower Downtown Denver where the prices of rent were sky-rocketing by the Nano-second. There was no way her clientele would step foot in something less than desirable. Commerce City? Not going to happen.

  Her bank account was not nearly where she wanted it to be which meant she was going to have a more-than-difficult time finding anything similar, not to mention suitable, compared to what she had now.

  His shoes knocked slightly against the wooden floor boards as he looked around. He’d already seen the place, hadn’t he? What was with the extra attention to detail? His hands smoothed over some of the antique-white cabinets and shelving, as if he were trying to figure out what he could change about the place. Jillian straightened her back, forming the words in her head that she needed to get out.

  “Listen. Please don’t kick me out. This is my dream,” Jillian said as she rushed to stand next to him. With one of his hands, he reached out and touched the smooth lines of a cerulean G-string. His long fingers glided between the fabric, slowly stroking over the satin triangle where he then gently smoothed it down until the thin strip that started the “string” in G-string slid between his thumb and forefinger, like he had all the time in the world.

  If that attention to detail didn’t turn any woman on, what would? Her eyes narrowed, hating the unexpected arousal between her legs. “Don’t touch those.”

  He glanced up at her beneath his long lashes. “I can’t touch?” he drawled, his mouth turning up slightly at the edges.

  What was with this man? All her hard work was vanishing into thin air and the man that was holding the purse strings—or in this case, panty strings—was eliciting all sorts of erotic desires from her with three single words.

  “They’re panties.”

  “G-strings. I’m familiar with what they are, Ms. Winters.” His eyes raked over her body as heat marred her cheeks. As if he was assessing whether she was wearing a G-string herself.

  “Yes, of course.” She cleared her tight throat. “I’m sure you’re very well familiar with what they are.”

  He moved on like that around her store, touching shelves and fixtures, fingering lingerie and smelling perfumes while she followed along like a lost little puppy. He was obviously used to getting his way—too arrogant fro
m it too—and she was tongue-tied, still reeling about how she could convince him to allow her to stay. He stopped at the Pleasurable Selfie corner and she nearly toppled into his backside.

  “I just…Look, Mr. Carrington. I can’t leave this place. I won’t be able to find anything comparable in this area. My store won’t survive. My clients will not follow me if the location isn’t superb.”

  “The quality of your products suggest otherwise,” he said. He picked up a pair of handcuffs and turned the key. The cuff clicked open in the silence and something inside of her quivered with arousal. Where was her music when she needed it? Perhaps her body wouldn’t be so attuned to the man if there was music to fill the void.

  “Thank you,” she said. “But you don’t understand. Even if I were lucky enough to find a location in this area, I don’t have the financial resources required to start something new. Not in a place as nice as this.”