Just This Once: The Big Apple Billionaires Series, #2

By Evelyn Jeannie Hall

Over a year ago, Lacey and Zane enjoyed a scorching one-nighter. While memorable, that's all it was ever supposed to be. But a month after that, they wound up having a second go-round. And that time was even hotter than the first.​

Now, since they share the same circle of friends and colleagues, they're forced to interact on the regular. After backsliding into each other's arms again, they make a fun—yet clandestine—no-strings-attached arrangement.

Once those strings start to tangle, though, things get complicated. When unforeseeable events threaten more than just their relationship status, their situation goes from a lighthearted romp to something far more serious, forcing a decision neither of them ever thought they'd have to make.

Will they choose to face this hard decision together, or will they be permanently ripped apart?

WARNING: This story contains a heroine with a faulty brain-to-mouth filter, scads of dirty language, a hero so ripped he could be featured on a comic book, and lots of graphic love scenes—including one with a window seat, an exposed fifth story view, and a wet top.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evelyn Jeannie Hall
• Release date: Jun 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9798223466635

Book preview

One: Eavesdropper

MARCH

Lacey Farrell flicked her bamboo blinds to the side to squint out into paradise. No, literally, this was paradise. With a capital P. When people thought of that term, this image sprang to mind. Sparkling turquoise water. White sand beaches. Emerald green palm trees swaying softly in the breeze. Overwater bungalows on stilts. Warmth, sunshine, and wide cloudless skies for as far as the eye could see.

It was almost otherworldly being here in the Maldives, a tiny island chain off the coast of India.

But since this was where her older sister Katrina wanted to have her wedding, here Lacey was. Not that Katrina was much older than her. She, Katrina, and her other sister Elizabeth were identical triplets, so the gaps in their ages amounted to mere minutes. Ten, in the case of Katrina, since she’d been born first. Fifteen for Elizabeth, since she’d been born last. So, yes, that made Lacey the notorious middle child.

She’d lived up to the rep when they were kids, going out of her way to capture as much of their single mother’s attention as possible. Lacey had always been the loudest triplet. The one with no discernible brain to mouth filter. It’d been her way of standing out from the pack, which could be particularly difficult when your sisters looked exactly the same as you did. But today—and this subsequent week of her spring break—wouldn’t be about her. This time would be all about Katrina and her beloved groom.

Lacey watched as said groom and his best man appeared on the raised plank path that connected each of their individual bungalows and caught a snatch of their conversation. Fortunately, the water meant their words reached her even though they kept their voices low. Lacey considered herself a professional grade eavesdropper. She didn’t even feel guilty about it.

Not usually, anyway.

You ready for all this? Zane Morrison, the best man, asked, stroking his goatee as his dark shaven head shined in the sunlight.

Getting married? Of course, Benji Torres, the husband-to-be, sounded one hundred and fifty percent confident.

I just mean the formalization of everything. The legal ramifications. Any decent lawyer would probably advise you to sign a prenup.

Benji brought them to an abrupt halt, his tone incredulous. "A prenup? Are you loco? This is Kat. Why would I ever need a prenup?"

There’s a pretty significant disparagement between your two income levels. That’s all I’m saying.

Zane was mentioning prenuptial agreements? What the hell? Based on Benji’s reaction, he agreed with her.

I would give Kat anything and everything, his normal smooth baritone staccato-like and choppy. I thought you understood that.

Only then did Zane backpedal. Naw, man. I do. I was just... He made a spinning motion with his hands. You know, playing devil’s advocate.

Picked a shitty time to do it.

I know, Zane dropped his head forward, his tone sincere. I... shouldn’t have brought it up.

For a long moment, the two men stood there regarding one another. Finally, Benji slapped his hand on Zane’s back. I realize you’re trying to look out for me, and I know your own marriage didn’t turn out like you wanted it to. But not every woman is Aliyah.

Lacey had never heard the name Aliyah before, and she’d had no idea that Zane had ever had a wife.

Thank Christ, Zane muttered. Then, he seemed to shake off whatever bug he’d had up his butt. I know you’re right. I know Kat is awesome. And I’m sorry for ever saying anything.

You gonna be all right this week?

Yeah. He rubbed the top of his bare scalp. Then, he lifted his chin and changed the subject. So, still gonna dance at your reception?

Sure. Dancing’s fun. Why wouldn’t we?

Privately, Lacey had laughed over this little development. Neither Katrina nor her groom had ever been the most graceful of humans on a dancefloor despite Benji’s athletic propensity to study mixed martial arts. They were more likely to look like a couple of frolicking seals than the winners of Dancing with the Stars.

And attempting to step lively on sand? This really could turn into a slapstick comedy scene. Of course, if the two fell over each other, they’d probably just start making out right there amongst the seaweed.

Wait... Did the crystal-clear waters of the Maldives even have seaweed?

Zane went palms up to his buddy in surrender. Didn’t say you shouldn’t. Just don’t expect me to join in.

You have to, man. Kat wants everyone to dance, and the bride gets what the bride wants. The best man grunted something Lacey couldn’t quite hear. Apparently, the groom couldn’t hear him either. Say again?

I said, I. Don’t. Dance, the best man spoke up, enunciating every syllable.

Bro, this won’t be some high-pressure environment. This wedding will consist of nine people. That’s it. And most of the time we’ll all be out there cutting up and acting silly. Don’t worry if you don’t have the moves.

I didn’t say I didn’t have the moves, asshole, Zane’s tone was jocular, but Lacey couldn’t forget how tense he’d been just moments before. An edge of something Lacey couldn’t quite identify remained in his voice. Hesitancy, maybe? Aggravation? Besides, I could out-dance you even if I was blindfolded and missing a leg.

Fuck off, Benji told him good-naturedly.

The two men began to banter back and forth, and Lacey relaxed. Typically, it took a lot to piss off Benji, and up till now, everything she’d seen out of Zane had shown him to be even more laidback. Which proved to be a good thing since Zane looked intimidating as all hell.

Appearances were misleading in his case, though. Despite his six-foot three height, heavily muscled body, and imposing, two hundred plus pound frame, the guy was a big teddy bear. He also happened to be a demon in the sack. A delightfully gifted demon, in both size and technique.

Lacey knew that from personal experience.

She let her mind drift to the night she’d discovered this interesting fact. Well, okay, one night and one afternoon. Their initial go-around had occurred the evening of the triplets’ first Thanksgiving in New York. Benji had invited the three of them over, and as Benji’s colleague and best bud, Zane had been in attendance, as well.

And since her weakness had always been tall, dark, and handsome—yes, archetypal as hell, but truthful nonetheless—when he’d flirted with her, she’d covertly flirted right back. Well, mostly covertly. At least until Benji’s father had crashed the proceedings with his pregnant date, causing waves of tension to suck the glee out of a fun shindig.

Still, once their party broke up to go their own separate ways, instead of going back home with Elizabeth, she’d hopped into Zane’s black Range Rover. He’d whisked her off to his Central Park West condo where they’d pulled an all-nighter, and not the studying kind.

The vast breadth of his shoulders had made quite an impression. So had the memory of her wrapping both hands around one of his biceps, only to discover he was so fucking built her fingers didn’t connect. His abs reminded her of a xylophone. Or the clichéd washboard.

But his eight-pack was totally for real. She’d never slept with a man who could’ve legitimately rivaled both Marvel and DC superheroes in his level of overall fitness. She’d also never been with a man who’d been that well...

Hung.

It’d actually caused her some trepidation at first.

Of course, he’d proven himself to be more than capable of knowing how to fit inside her without causing even the teeniest sliver of discomfort. They’d smooched like adult film stars once he’d pulled into his parking garage, then barely made it through his apartment door before stripping off naked. He’d dragged her to his bed with all this passion but had then slowed down to be careful during their first joining.

It’d been quite lovely, actually.

Less than a month later, they’d hooked up again. Though that time had been more about need and desperation on her part. She’d required an escape, and Zane had willingly provided her one.

So she now had two episodes worth of erotic imagery, and she’d been using it as daydream fodder ever since.

It also came in handy when she spent special one-on-one time with her vibrator.

Granted, it’d been difficult to be in the same room with him and not openly goggle at his male beauty, particularly since so many tawdry memories accompanied seeing him again. He smelled incredible, too, like sandalwood mixed with freshly laundered cotton, and whenever he was within her proximity, the scent took her right back to those wild times. So, she’d actively avoided him.

Cue the constant awkwardness she’d been subject to any time they’d been around one another since.

She let the blinds slide back into place as he and Benji approached so there would be no chance of her being seen. This had been the main drawback to her short-lived affair with Zane. Due to one, Zane being Benji’s best friend, and two, he, Benji, and Katrina being equal partners at their co-owned financial firm, it’d meant that Lacey crossed paths with him repeatedly. Every time she did, she felt embarrassed. Like floor, please swallow me up embarrassed.

She never should’ve gone there, especially not that second time when she’d felt so vulnerable and upset. Most irritating of all was that she’d known better but had dived into the friend of a friend pool anyway. Twice. Now, he’d be the BFF of her brother-in-law.

Ugh.

Not that he hadn’t been cool about it thus far. Zane hadn’t made any inappropriate jokes or acted weird anytime they’d shared the same space. Nope. Not once. In fact, any time they did have to interact, he treated her with polite cordiality. Which was great except for the inner doubts it brought to the surface of Lacey’s psyche. Did their time together not have the impact on him that it’d had on her?

Apparently not.

She wished she could take it all back.

For multiple reasons, she hadn’t broadcasted her poor decision-making skills. The only person aware she hadn’t come home Thanksgiving night was Elizabeth, and fortunately for Lacey, her youngest sister had been a bastion of discretion. To Lacey’s knowledge, neither Katrina or her hubby-to-be knew anything about her and Zane’s sex fests. And considering Benji’s new penchant for overprotectiveness where all three Farrells were concerned, she thought it best to keep it that way.

Once the two men had vanished from view, she gazed outside at the rest of the resort again.

Back home in New York, the temperatures had plunged to a frigid twenty-eight degrees as the city rode out a late season snowstorm. While here, the mercury hovered between eighty- and eighty-five-degrees morning, noon, and night. Their quaint conclave of thatched roofs consisted of eight individual units surrounding a common building where there were hot tubs, a spa, a gym, and a restaurant with a full-service staff available.

Luxury at its finest.

As she changed out of her nightgown in preparation for what was certain to be a busy day, she visualized this next week to be everything she and her loved ones hoped it would.

Now came the simple matter of making sure it actually happened.

Two: Wouldn’t Be Going Back for More

Zane entered the dining area of the resort’s common building right behind his best bro. The delectable scent of Mas Huni wafted over to him, a local Maldives breakfast of smoked tuna that had been shredded and was served with grated coconuts, lemon, and onions. They’d had it yesterday morning, too, and since it was low carb, high in protein, and seriously tasty, it was perfect for him.

He noticed his buddy’s bride flitting around the place like a hummingbird on crack and stifled a chuckle. Kat had grown more and more uptight the closer their wedding encroached. Tonight would be the rehearsal dinner with their nuptials taking place tomorrow evening at sunset. Since the sunsets around here were downright spectacular, Zane knew everything would turn out magnificently, even if the double-tiered wedding cake fell into the sea.

He feared Kat wouldn’t take such a complication in stride, though. In fact, based on how pinched her features looked and the depth of the lines marring her fair forehead, he knew she wouldn’t.

Benji, I can’t find my shoes, my earrings, or my panties.

The groom’s focus went to the same place Zane’s did. Your panties?

Yes, she said, wringing her hands. Like, she legitimately mimed wringing out a sponge. Zane studied her as she did it. He’d heard the expression but never witnessed someone legit making the motions. And if I can’t find them, it’ll ruin everything.

Benjamin took his wife-to-be by the shoulders as if to steady her. Kat, it’ll be okay. Don’t worry.

But... I want everything to be perfect.

It will be, her groom insisted. Since we’re planning to take pictures in the surf, anyway, do you even need your shoes?

"Yes," she said with what Zane considered unnecessary vehemence. Kat had this tendency to switch over into micromanagement mode when stressed. He’d noticed it while working side by side with her at their firm. Under less harried circumstances she was sweet as pie, though. All the triplets were.

Listen, if you can’t find them... Kat interrupted her groom with a high-pitched noise somewhere between a huff of indignation and a shriek. "I mean if we can’t find them—because we’ll all look, of course—I’ll just carry you out to the beach tomorrow. It’ll be good practice for when I bring you over the threshold."

She wrinkled her nose. But what about the earrings? They’re sapphires so they’re my something blue.

But there are sapphires in your engagement ring already. Can’t they be your something blue?

The bride ignored this.

And the panties are my something borrowed.

No one but me will even notice if you’re not wearing panties and... Benjamin leaned towards her and whispered something in her ear.

Zane was sure whatever his friend had said was of the X-rated variety, but instead of laughing like she usually did, Kat smacked his arm. That’s not funny.

It’s kinda funny.

Benji, this is important. She didn’t do it, but her posture was that of someone about to stomp their foot in temper. Zane had never seen Kat like this. Christ, weddings could get women riled up. Aliyah had... Nope, better not go there.

Instead of attempting to persuade her verbally anymore, his buddy did something Zane never would’ve considered. He kissed the holy living hell out of his bride. Right there in front of everyone. It wasn’t a chaste, holy matrimony type of kiss, either. It was a no holds barred, let’s-go-back-to-our-room-and-hump-each-other-like-bunnies-till-we-see-stars kiss.

Damn.

At first, Kat went rigid, but within seconds, her man had her in the palm of his hand. That was impressive, truly. Benjamin had taken the woman he loved from a category five hurricane to a tropical storm. Hell, he’d taken her all the way down to a gentle rain. By the time his friend broke their lip lock, Kat looked visibly dazed. Zane would have to remember that tactic for the next time a woman started to lose her shit at him. Not that it happened much anymore.

Even since his ex-wife had gone out of the picture a few years back, his life had stayed relatively peaceful.

And speaking of women, one specific copper-haired goddess entered the room, making every smidgen of his attention zero in on her. Lacey Farrell stood in the doorway, her ocean blue eyes fixated on the engaged tangle that was her sister and his best friend.

For God’s fucking sake, I’ll be glad when you two tie the knot so the horniness will calm into more ambient levels, she blurted out, and Zane hid his smile behind his hand at her bluntness. The woman didn’t mince words, that was for damn sure.

For heaven’s sake, Lacey, Elizabeth chastised her. Could you at least lower your voice? The whole staff is gawking at you.

Zane glanced around to see the youngest triplet was right. Every single person dressed in beige linen shirts and khakis were staring at Lacey with wide eyes. He wondered if this might be their main source of entertainment; tourists who made some sort of spectacle out of themselves. Not that he judged Lacey for her behavior. Fuck, no. He got a genuine kick out of observing her to see what she’d do next.

He’d gotten a kick out of anticipating her next moves in bed, too.

But he brushed that memory away. He really didn’t think getting a hard-on around the wedding guests would be something he’d ever want to live down. He did keep his eyes on her, however. The woman was a glimmering jewel, a real standout. He couldn’t believe he’d had so much trouble telling her apart from Kat and Elizabeth the first time he met her. He’d never mistake her for either of her siblings now.

Not with that Marilyn Monroe-like beauty mark right above the left side of her lip. Not with the bold way she held herself. Not with that effervescent vibe she continually gave off. Not with that mouth of hers. An image of her mouth around his dick sucking for all she was worth intruded, and again, he forcibly thrust it away.

Shit, now he was thinking about thrusting. Just his luck.

That was the thing about Lacey. Customarily, he had no problem being one and done with a woman. In fact, he preferred it. Back at his former investment firm, he’d hooked up with one of the executive assistants downstairs and had no compunctions whatsoever about being courteously aloof to her from then on. And he’d interacted with her daily. To any outsider, they must’ve seemed like any other pair of coworkers despite having spent a few hours sans clothing together.

Yet he found this so much more difficult with Lacey. It took every bit of his concentration to pull off the whole, we only know each other because we run in similar circles routine. He didn’t know precisely why he couldn’t keep his mind off her, but it was super inconvenient. Though the plunging neckline of her top—in an aquamarine color that matched her bright irises—along with her short shorts sure didn’t help matters.

She peeked over in his direction and pinpointed his face. This fascinated him because she hadn’t done it in an accidental manner, like someone simply scanning the room might. No, her gaze had gone from Benjamin and Kat directly to him. Like an axe kick in the MMA ring. Or an armed missile. But he wouldn’t let this throw him. He couldn’t. He made a point of being cool as a cucumber as often as humanly possible. So, he cast an easygoing smile at her. He even added in an unconcerned wink.

Morning, Lacey.

Morning, Zane.

Goddamn, but he loved it when she said his name. Somehow, it always sounded different coming from her lips. Like she put a tiny bit more emphasis on the Z. Zzane instead of just Zane. It was sexy as all fuck. Of course, it’d been even sexier when she’d screamed it at the top of her lungs as she rode him like a prized stallion.

Shit.

Her fieriness and absolute lack of inhibition had revved his engine something fierce. She was so fucking fuckable. But he didn’t do repeats. Especially since he’d