The Tycoon and his Honeypot: The Tycoon Series, #1

By Linzi Basset

Brooklyn Hadley was dripping with sex and ambition. Mason Sheppard was a military-hardened man who valued honesty above all else. Neither had found true love, and Mason had no interest to be with only one woman.

Brooklyn was an intelligent, independent young woman, working her way through her education, too proud to accept money from her family. In her spare time, she drove racecars. It is here where fate decided to wind a web around their lives as Mason found Brooklyn bent over the engine of her red 1972 Chevy Camaro, tempting destiny and the men around her. He was one muscled hunk who couldn't resist the temptation.

His eyes started at her toes, working their way up her long honey-tanned legs to her firm ass cheeks, peeking out from the bottom of her too-short denim shorts. He knew there and then she was meant to be his. This was one honey pot he intended to dip into…often.

Would Mason's new executive administrative assistant cause problems? Would Brooke's new job get in their way? More importantly, would the renowned womanizing bachelor give up all the women that flocked around him?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Linzi Basset
• Release date: Jan 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393352570

Linzi Basset

“Isn’t it a universal truth that it’s our singular experiences and passion, for whatever thing or things, which molds us all into the individuals we become? Whether it's hidden in the depths of our soul or exposed for all to see?” Linzi Basset is a South African born animal rights supporter with a poet’s heart, and she is also a bestselling fiction writer of suspense filled romance erotica books; who as the latter, refuses to be bound to any one sub-genre. She prefers instead to stretch herself as a storyteller which has resulted in her researching and writing historical and even paranormal themed works. Her initial offering: Club Alpha Cove, a BDSM club suspense series released back in 2015, reached Amazon’s Bestseller list, and she has been on those lists ever since. Labelling her as prolific is a gross understatement as just a few short years later she has now been published forty-one times; a total which fails to take into account the three other published works of her alter ego: Isabel James who co-authors—nor does it include the five additional new works marked for imminent release. “I write from the inside out. My stories are both inside me and a part of me so it can be either pleasurable to release them or painful to carve them out. I live every moment of every story I write. So, if you're looking for spicy and suspenseful, I'm your girl... woman... writer... you know what I mean!" Linzi believes that by telling stories in her own voice, she can better share with her readers the essence of her being: her passionate nature; her motivations; and her wildest fantasies. She feels every touch as she writes, every kiss, every harsh word uttered, and this to her is the key to a never-ending love of writing. Ultimately, all books by Linzi Basset are about passion. To her, passion is the driving force of all emotion; whether it be lust, desire, hate, trust, or love. This is the underlying message contained in her books. Her advice: “Believe in the passions driving your desires; live them; enjoy them; and allow them to bring you happiness.” Follow Linzi everywhere: https://linktr.ee/LinziBasset

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The Tycoon and His Honeypot

The Tycoon Series

Book  1

A Romantic Suspense Novel

By

Linzi Basset

Copyright © 2021 Linzi Basset – All rights reserved

The Tycoon and His Honey Pot

Copyright © 2016 Linzi Basset

Editor: Julie Curry

Published by Linzi Basset

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, business establishments, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Linzi Basset has asserted her rights under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work. All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book/Book only. No part of this e-book/Book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without prior written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Warning: This book contains scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. This book is for sale to adults only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase.

Disclaimer: Neither the publisher nor the authors will be responsible for any loss, harm, injury, or death resulting from use of the information contained in this book.

CONTENTS

Author’s Note

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Excerpt: The Tycoon’s Blondie

Books written as Linzi Basset

About the Author

Stalk Linzi

Author’s Note

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading my stories.  My stories are filled with dominant Alpha males, who know what they want and take it, no matter the cost. All of them are all gorgeous, successful, rich and women flock to them. Their women are sassy, beautiful and full of spirit. Not necessarily one of the rich and famous, the ladies know what they want and work hard to achieve success.

My stories are steamy romance novels with a high level of eroticism, based on mature couples that are not scared to explore the sensual emotions they awaken in each other. Remember, these stories are mostly compressed into a very short time span, with lust and love that explode almost from the first page. In real life, always take care with your heart and emotions.

This is the story of Mason Sheppard and Brooklyn Hadley, the first of the planned Tycoon series. Please note this is a re-edited version.

Linzi

Chapter One

Asmile hovered over his wide mouth as he gazed appreciatively at the long, curvy legs and the half-moon butt cheeks that peeked out from a pair of very tiny denim shorts. The lean, yet curvy thighs and shapely calves ended in a pair of Cat boots.

She was bent over with her buttocks stuck up in the air, her head buried in the engine of the V8 1972 Chevrolet Camaro. Her deliciously sexy hips swayed on the beat of I like to move it that blared over the radio. The shorts pulled deeper between her butt cheeks when she leaned forward. He struggled to breath; his hoarse gasp echoed through the expanse of the workshop. He wasn’t surprised at the eager flex of his cock in his jeans.

She shot upright at the sound.

Ouch Damn it! She cried as she hit her head against the hood.

His lips curved upward in a delighted smile as she turned around. Her one hand rose to rub the painful throb on the back of her head. All his blood shot south so fast he felt lightheaded for a moment.

He started at her feet, up those amazing firm and long legs, hesitated at the V between her legs before they trailed higher. His breath wheezed out slowly as he devoured every luscious and inviting piece of skin that peeked from between the open edges of the white shirt. It was negligently tied low on her waist, leaving her torso and her firm round breasts, covered by a purple satin bra, open to his gaze. His smile broadened when he noticed her nipples tighten. He salivated at the thought of what they looked and tasted like.

Reluctantly, he forced his gaze from those delicious mounds to her coral colored lips. They were pressed in a tight line, but with a bottom lip that still puffed out lusciously. Her nose was sweet, small and sat below eyes that shot silver fire at him. Beautifully almond shaped, perfect white sclerae, surrounded gray eyes that had the appearance of polished silver, framed by thick, long black lashes. The just woken tousled style of her sun streaked dark-blond hair made him envision how they would look on his pillow in the early morning. She was all honey, from the top of her tousled hair to the soles of her feet. For the first time in his life, Mason was breathless.

His smile curved wider at the furious glare she shot at him.

Seen enough, mister? Her voice triggered a further surge of arousal to his cock. Soft, husky . . . sex in a sound.

Not nearly, honey. Care to show me more?

Her irritation was evident in the taut lines of her body. She felt anger surge through her mind. She hated men who undressed her with their eyes. She watched his eyes lower to her chest once again. She glanced down, suppressing a groan of annoyance. Her hands itched to rise to drag the edges of her shirt together. The buttons must have come undone while she was working. The shirt gaped open, unintentionally inviting his blatant stare.

She refused to let him embarrass or intimidate her. Her eyes involuntary ran down his muscled frame. He was tall, probably close to six feet two with black hair, cut short and spiky. Dark eyebrows curved slightly over eyes as black as the night. His straight nose was perfectly balanced over a wide, very kissable mouth with sensual narrow lips, perfectly in symmetry with a chiseled jaw above a strong wide neck. She drooled over his wide shoulders, muscled arms and chest that narrowed in a torso she was sure favored a six-pack. The thought crossed her mind that he must be a bodyguard or bouncer at a club. Her eyes shot back to his when she recognized the bulge in his pants. She cursed the heat surging to her core when his laughing eyes caught her stare.

His eyebrows rose, the sensual smile revealing a row of strong, white teeth. She ground hers in response.

Were you looking for something in particular? His broadening smile warned her what was coming.

Oh honey. . . I found a hell of a lot more than I came looking for.  

He sauntered closer until he stood a mere step away from her. She refused to cower in front of him and straightened to her full five-feet-seven. Her stare turned to a hostile glare.

Be assured, mister. You have found nothing that’s available!

His eyes lowered to her satin covered breasts again.

What― She gasped when he lifted a hand and flipped his finger against her protruding, tightly budded nipple. His eyes caught hers again, but his smile was no more.

Are you sure, honey?

She lifted her arms to ward him off. Her palms instantaneously heated when they fell against his hard chest. He stepped into her, wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his hips against hers.

Get away from me!

Her voice had lost its heat and came out in a breathless whisper. He whispered back, his breath hot against her lips.

Now, if your body gave me the same order, maybe I would . . .

He leaned closer; his lips feathered over hers. It was heat . . . hot, sizzling heat that shot through her the moment their lips met. He measured her lips with his; slowly caressing from side to side. He traced her pulpy bottom lip to nudge in between for entry.

A loud crash outside the garage door pulled them apart. They stood staring at each other, breathing harshly. She finally came to her senses and pushed him away to stomp around the Camaro.

I think you better leave!

His hot gaze travelled down the length of her and slowly back up, smiling at her nipples that were still straining against the satin bra. He turned and sauntered to the side door from where he’d entered. He smiled at her over his shoulder just before he disappeared.

Till we meet again, honey.

It sounded too much like a promise for Brooklyn’s peace of mind.  She grabbed the edges of her shirt together and furiously buttoned it up.

Cocky jerk!  

I SEE BROOKLYN IS IN a mood again, Michael, Lucas Gibson said with a chuckle. He watched the anger flash over Michael’s face every time the driver of the Camaro raced around the track and did something ridiculously irresponsible.

I’m going to wring her bloody neck!

Still as violent as I remember. I thought you started to mellow with age?

Michael’s back stiffened at the gruff voice that rasped behind him. He noticed the surprise in Lucas’s eyes followed by a wide smile as he stormed past him. He turned to watch him embrace the large, dark haired man in a bear hug. He shook his head, smiling broadly. He took his turn and hugged his old friend.

Hell and high water! I never thought I’d see you today! It’s about time you hauled yourself out of that office and joined the world of the living!

If only all of us could have a carefree existence such as yours. How the hell are you, Mickey?

Couldn’t be better, especially now that I know I aged better than you did.

They sparred back and forth until a screech of tires forced their attention back to the track. Michael went pale.

Is that bloody woman crazy?

He tucked the earpiece back into his ear and shouted into the receiver end. Get off his ass, you idiot! If he brakes, you’ll be gone!

Mason’s gaze followed the red Camaro around the track. His eyes strayed in search around the pits for any sign of the hot woman he’d met in the garage. He laughed when Michael slumped into a chair, his head in his hands.

You seemed slightly troubled my friend . . . and ageing by the minute.

Michael speared him an annoyed glare, jumped up and stood staring at the track again. Mason looked at Lucas questioningly, who just shrugged with a smile.

It’s his own fault. He allowed her to start racing and now he has to suffer the consequences. On days like this when her temper is up, she borders on being reckless while he grows gray hair.

Mason frowned. Her?

Bee! If you don’t back off his ass RIGHT NOW, this is your last race! Holy Shit! BEE! Michael shouted at the driver.

The Camaro was a hair’s breadth away from the Bentley in front of it. Mason winced when the Bentley slammed on brakes, expecting the Camaro to crash into it, but clearly the driver expected it and continued to push the Bentley relentlessly. Only when they neared a sharp curve in the track did the Camaro back off slightly. With a screech of tires it shot past the Bentley on the wide side when it took the curve, hugging the inside of the track.

From that point the race was over. The Camaro sped away from the Bentley at such speed it appeared to come to a standstill.

Mason laughed and slapped Michael on the shoulder. You don’t seem to have much control over Bee, my friend.

He growled and waved at him to follow, grumbling as they went: The day she ever listens, is the day hell freezes over.

They waited for the Camaro to come to a stop. Lucas assisted the driver to climb from the window. He returned the exuberant hug she gave him the moment her feet touched the ground.

Michael was still angry and said to Mason, You can have her! I’ll be happy to pass her on to you . . . she needs someone to master that willfulness of hers.

Her?

My bloody sister. You need a damn hiding, Bee. How the hell will I explain to Mom that you had an accident on a race track when they don’t even know you own a bloody racing car?

She removed the helmet. Mason’s heart stopped as he watched the luxurious tresses tumble over her shoulders. Goddamn! The hot honey pot was his army buddy’s sister. He smiled crookedly.

She turned around to charm her brother with a smile but froze when she came face to face with the jerk from the garage.

Calm down, Michael. I won, didn’t I?

It’s not about winning. You could’ve been killed. What the hell was the matter with you out there?

Her glare fell on the grinning jerk next to him, the message loud and clear. She snubbed him and turned to Michael.

Michael, really; do you have to carry on like that in front of strangers?

Michael looked around with a frown. His glare swung back to her, at which Mason burst out laughing.

Michael’s, What strangers? and her Stop laughing you jerk!, were uttered at the same time. Michael stared at her in shock.

Bee! Have you lost your manners along the way as well?

She blushed, angry that he berated her like a teenager in front of the muscled, hot and steamy brute that had kissed her socks off not so long ago.

So, Mason my friend. This is my very rude and willful sister, Bee. My offer still stands. You can have her. She sure as hell doesn’t listen to me.

Brooklyn’s mouth dropped open. You know this ass―man?

Lucas draped his arm around her shoulder, pointing toward Mason. Yep, our Platoon Admiral when we were in the army. The best man there is to have by your side. Meet Mason Sheppard.

She startled visibly. Her voice was soft when she asked, You’re Mason Sheppard?

He nodded. His smile spread in enjoyment at the red flush that bloomed over her cheeks.

I don’t remember you ever mentioning a Mason . . . what do you mean he can have me? She sputtered at Michael.

You’ll remember him as Mace, Michael said gruffly. I’m done Bee. You’ll not come near this track in that car again. Not until you can prove to me you are responsible."

Now Mickey, don’t be like this. I was just a little . . . uptight.

Then you should know better than to get in a car to race. You’re not a child anymore. You keep telling me that. So, act like a grown-up.

Mason realized she was getting angry and stepped between them to prevent a full-on war.

Michael, thanks, I think I’ll take you up on the offer and take her off your hands. Seeing as I was the reason for her being uptight in the first place.

They both swung around to look at him. Brooklyn with an outraged gasp and Michael with a raised eyebrow. Mason just grinned.

Coming, honey? He drawled with a raised eyebrow in her direction.

I’m not your honey.

Ah. But you surely taste―

Very well! I’ll go with you, she hastily interrupted before the impudent jerk made their first meeting public―to her brother of all people. He, of course, watched the interaction between them with interest.

Mason took her by the hand to drag her along with him. Brooklyn had to run to keep up with his long strides as he started toward the restaurant.

Slow down. I don’t have stilts for legs.

He slowed. His gaze slowly travelled up and down her legs.

No, you’re right. They’re too shapely for that.

Brooklyn settled in the booth where he’d led her to in a secluded corner in the restaurant. The irritating grin that she was starting to resent, curved his lips upward.

I so hate that smile of yours.

He laughed aloud. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his feet out under the table. Brooklyn tried to avoid it but gave up when he clamped her feet between his ankles. The sigh that escaped her lips dragged like slow treacle.

And I so would love to see yours. Are you always this grumpy? Or is it just me that brings it out in you?

You haven’t exactly given me anything to smile about since you grabbed me in the garage.

Honey, trust me, the day I grab you, you will know.

You’re awfully presumptuous.

Am I? Or am I just honest about what I want from you?

She blushed. For once he looked at her without his usual grin. She noticed his eyes weren’t black, but a dark, ink-blue color, with very slight silver speckles around the irises.

Mason’s eyes held hers captive. He took her hand in his and tugged on it until she had to lean over the table. He slowly pulled her fingers into his mouth, sucking and licking on the tips. A surge of heat shot from her fingertips all the way to her loins. She squeezed her thighs tightly together in an attempt to gain control over her increasing arousal.

Her breathing puffed from her lips as he continued to feast on her fingers.

You can’t just . . . you― She yanked her hand from his grasp to end the torturing pleasure.

Honey, you’ll learn very quickly I can―

And stop calling me honey.

His gaze caressed the enticing cleavage that was visible where her driving suit was carelessly zipped open. He leaned forward to pull the zipper further down until it gaped open all the way to her waist. Her nipples were taut nubs against the purple satin bra.

But you’re honey all over and I intend to dip into that honey―

How dare you. We don’t even know each . . .

He flicked a finger over a budding nipple and then pinched it. Softly at first and then slightly harder. She gasped. Mason’s cock twitched as he watched the pulpy richness of her bottom lip disappear between her teeth.

Brooklyn didn’t know what was worse. The agony of the pain in her lip or the pleasure from his ministrations.

He slowly closed the zipper. His voice was hoarse with the soft vow that flowed through her mind.

You can just as well stop fighting it. You, honey pot, are meant to be mine and I’m not a very patient man.

Chapter Two

Brooklyn stared at the reflection in the mirror. She grimaced at the reflection of a young woman with hair twisted it into a tight knot at the top of her head. It was so tight it pulled her cheeks and eyes out of shape.

She quickly put tawny colored lenses over her silver-grey irises before placed a pair of clear glass spectacles with thick frames on her