Playing for Keeps: The Sexy Billionaire Bad Boy Series, #4

Chapter 1

The room began to spin.  Every muscle in Hunter's body clenched.  He closed his eyes.  He held his breath.  And then, just as suddenly as he tensed up, he felt an incredible wave of relief.  Unable to keep the pleasure bottled up inside, he let out a roar.  He'd just met Harmony a few hours before, and he was damn glad he had, because fucking her felt awesome.

When the surge of his orgasm started to fade, he cracked open an eye.  There was Harmony, with her skirt pushed up and her mascara running, still grinding on top of him.  From the lazy smile on her face, he could tell she'd just had a powerful release of her own.

Damn that felt good! she shrieked.  You were even better than I expected you to be.

He smiled.  You weren't so bad yourself.

She didn't even slide off of him before she started patting her hair.  She had screwed him so hard and so fast that her hair was a mess.  Hunter didn't care, though.  Her hair had no bearing on all of the amazing things she'd just done to his cock.

Now that we know what a good chemistry we have, I want to ask you something, she said coyly, her eyelashes batting ever so slightly.

Knock yourself out, hot stuff, he said while still trying to catch his breath.

Before she let out another word, she slowly started to grind on him again.  He felt his dick perk up, and Harmony shot him a wink that told him round two was going to be even better.  He closed his eyes and enjoyed the ride.

Do you think you could put in a good word for my baby brother?  He's one heck of a first baseman.

Hunter's eyes flung open.  His cock jolted at the shock of her request.

What the hell did you just ask me?!

I know you're a big baseball scout, and Tyler's always dreamed of playing in the majors, so I just figured—

You just figured you'd bang me and then I'd be so overcome with lust that I'd get your brother a pro contract?

Don't make it sound bad.  Banging you is awfully fun, she said before starting to ride him a little faster.

Hunter didn't want any more of her or her wet pussy.  He lifted her off him, stood up, and pulled on his pants.

Sweetie, if he was good enough to play for the Dallas Coyotes, you wouldn't have to put out like a trashy skank.  Now get the hell out of my condo.

Harmony let out a huff, yanked her skirt back down, and stormed out of Hunter's bedroom.  As soon as he heard the front door slam, he punched the wall above his bed.

Damn it! he shouted, more out of anger than pain, even though his knuckles were throbbing.  Why does everyone have to be a goddamn user?!

Hunter was so tired of women who only wanted him because of who he was—a 23-year-old former major league baseball player who frequently landed in the tabloids and on all kinds of hot bachelor lists, who also happened to be one of the ultra-rich Montgomerys.  Even though an ankle injury forced him to retire at the end of his rookie season, Hunter's family fortune was one hell of a safety net.  Montgomery Oil was worth billions of dollars, which meant Hunter would never have to work a day in his life to afford a lifestyle that most people could only dream of.

Unfortunately, women all over Dallas knew that. 

They flung themselves at him every time he left the house, and as a result, he'd gotten pretty good at sniffing out the gold diggers.  That's why Harmony pissed him off so much—she'd fooled him at the bar.  She was good at the game, better than most of the women he dealt with.  She was a great fuck, but at the end of the night, she was just another slut who was in it for her own bottom line.

Hunter wiped the sweat off his brow.  He loved flirting with hot girls, and taking the chosen ones home was almost as good of an adrenaline rush as standing in the batter's box at Yankee Stadium.  He wasn't looking for Ms. Right.  All he wanted was Ms. Right Now.  But that didn't mean he was OK with being used and abused by every gold digger in Dallas.

Chapter 2

As much as Rick loved working in the Dallas Coyotes' scouting department, he hated walking by Hunter's office.  The rich brat never had to pay his dues like Rick had.  Hunter had spent a year playing centerfield for the Coyotes, and suddenly everyone thought he was baseball's gift to scouting.  Meanwhile, Rick had spent the vast majority of his 42 years with the Coyotes—first as a kid selling ice cream in the stands and eventually working his way up to an Assistant Scouting position.  He deserved a cush job and a corner office a hell of a lot more than some rich kid who didn't earn it—or appreciate it.

Ugh, 'Baseball's Billionaire Bad Boy' can kiss my ass, Rick muttered as he made his way down the hallway.

Every time Rick walked by Hunter's office, he thought about how good it would feel to watch Hunter get fired.  Not only was he a prick who thought only with his dick, but that spoiled son of a bitch also had the nerve to call him McRick.  It was a nickname that had spread like wildfire, a nickname that Rick absolutely despised.  For Christ's sake, he was a baseball professional, not some value meal at McDonalds!

Rick was letting the hate rattle around in his brain when he heard Hunter's voice coming from the other end of the long hallway.

Yeah, she had the nerve to ask me to put in a good word for her brother, Rick heard Hunter say.  Just the sound of his voice made Rick's neck muscles tense up.

Right after you had sex?! Rick heard James, another scouting assistant, ask incredulously.

Dude, I was still in her! Hunter exclaimed.

Damn! James yelled.

As soon as Rick turned the corner, Hunter's and James' faces turned bright red.

How much of that did you hear, McRick? Hunter asked.

More than I wanted to on a Monday morning.  Having a little trouble controlling the ladies, Hunter?

I just need a hot chick who doesn't come with any drama, Hunter sighed. 

Don't we all, Rick snorted before turning and walking into his office.

What an asshole, Rick thought to himself.  Hunter had the opportunity of a lifetime, and all he could think about was hot chicks.  Who shouts about fucking in the middle of the hallway on a Monday morning?!

Hunter Montgomery, that's who. 

Hunter should have been talking about work.  Rick would be if he had all of the responsibility that Hunter did.  Hell, Rick would've killed for Hunter's job.  He would've given it the respect it deserved.

The only potential bright side?  Hunter was an immature brat who, hopefully, would crash and burn soon.  After all, Hunter's wild party lifestyle didn't exactly mesh with the professional, family-friendly, respectable behavior that the Dallas Coyotes demanded of their employees.  Maybe he'd been able to get away with that kind of crap when he was a superstar player, but now that Hunter worked in the Coyotes' executive office, he'd have to settle down.  Rick couldn't imagine the big wigs letting shit like this continue for very long.

As soon as he sat down in his chair and turned on his laptop, Rick felt a flash of inspiration.  Why wait for Hunter to screw himself out of a job?  Why not help the process along?  After all, the sooner Hunter Montgomery was gone, the sooner Rick could have his job.

Pretty good thinking for a Monday morning, Rick muttered to himself.

Chapter 3

All thoughts of Harmony the skank went flying out the window as soon as Hunter saw a beautiful woman walking through the second-floor hallway in the Coyotes' executive office.  She was thin with a small waist, and her legs seemed to go on forever.  She was wearing navy blue dress pants that hugged her curves, without being so tight that it looked like she had to jump off the roof to get them on.  He looked at her long-sleeved white shirt and saw that her chest was big without being too big, which Hunter liked.  The gold diggers always had a chest full of silicone.  This girl was different, though.  She looked genuine.  She looked focused.  When she absentmindedly ran a finger through the long brown hair that flowed past her shoulders, Hunter's heart started to race. 

Who the hell was this chick?!

Hi there, he said confidently, ignoring the fact that he had just stepped in front of and interrupted Ralph, the Dallas Coyotes' CFO.  "Do you work here?

As of today, yes, she said with a big smile.  I'm Taylor Moore.  It's my first day in the finance department, and Ralph is giving me the grand tour.

Excellent!  I'm Hunter—

Montgomery.  Hunter Montgomery, she interjected.  I know who you are.  Your magazine cover is all over the building.

Hunter had thought it was nice when Happening Texas magazine wanted to do a cover story on his transition from baseball player to baseball scout, but he never dreamed it would come in so handy.  Just from looking at her bright white smile, it was obvious that Taylor was excited to meet the cover man in person.

It was an honor to have them do the story, Hunter said, trying to sound humble.  After all the interviews he'd seen his dad do over the years as the head of Montgomery Oil—not to mention all of the interviews he'd done when he was playing for the Coyotes—Hunter knew it was important to be down-to-earth.  Of course, it wasn't always easy to feel that way when your family was worth billions of dollars.

I'd much rather learn about you, though, Hunter continued.  How about I finish giving you the grand tour on this beautiful Monday morning?

I think Ralph's got it under control, Taylor said with a chuckle.

Hunter was so taken with Taylor that he'd forgotten all about Ralph until she mentioned his name.  He turned around and saw that Ralph was standing a few feet away, talking on his cell phone.  Hunter decided to strike while the iron was hot, before Ralph finished his phone call.

I'm way more interesting than he is, Hunter whispered.

Taylor laughed.  I believe that.  After all, I saw you win the 'Major Player' award in one of the tabloids.  Apparently, the ladies think you're very interesting, she said with a wink.

Hunter groaned.  He hated that title even more than he hated being called Baseball's Billionaire Bad Boy.  Yes, he may have played the field, but he hated having it sound cheap and dirty.  He wasn't some kind of love-em-and-leave-em scumbag.  Apparently, though, the tabloids just couldn't resist churning out exaggerated stories about the billionaire ex-baseball player. 

Oh you know how the tabloids are.  Always trying to start trouble, he said, hoping he played it off well.  Maybe we should go get a drink after work tonight, and then you can see what a nice guy I really am.

That's very sweet of you, but I don't think so, Taylor said.  Oh!  Ralph's waving me away.  Hunter, it was great to meet you.  I'm sure I'll be seeing you around.

She rushed off before Hunter could say anything else.  He was pissed—not at her, but at the reputation that had scared