Read Lonzo: Book 2 (Tycoon Series Book 2) Online
Authors: Kat Madrid
Lonzo: Book 2 (Tycoon Series Book 2)
After All The Drama: JordLonz Finally Gets Hitched!
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
LOVEMATCH DIGITAL
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Lovematch/SD&M Publishing
SD Printshop, Capareda Street, Lagao, General Santos City, Philippines 9500
Copyright © 2014 by Kat Madrid
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
Cover designed by LM Digital
Acknowledgments
For the Almighty
For my parents and sibling
For the amazing LMD Pimp Squad
For E.M., for the all-nighters. I really owe you one helluva thank you.
For all the readers who took a chance
Chapter One
To the casual observer, they looked like newlyweds on their honeymoon
. They fit the fairy tale profile. She was Jordana Almueda, the famous supermodel while he was Lonzo Vitale, a billionaire who was also so panty-drenching gorgeous it should be deemed criminal.
Except that they were not newly-weds.
Nor were they a “real” couple.
Their arrangement was…complicated. And time-bound—for an entire month.
Two more weeks and this would soon be over.
But it didn’t matter.
At the moment, neither of them cared to remember.
She sensed him even before she felt his arms encircling her middle.
She smiled. She did a lot of that these past few days. She couldn’t stop herself even if she wanted to. The sun had settled inside her, making her burst out in radiant rays of happy bubbles whenever he was near. Or it surely felt something like that.
“I need you,” he said in that raspy voice that never failed to make her break out in goosies.
She dropped the dish towel from her hand before she turned to him, her eyes narrowing.
“We just did it thirty minutes ago, Lonzo!” she reminded him when he invaded her morning bath this morning and got her biting her knuckles to keep from screaming the house down.
He pulled her closer, making her gasp when she felt his veritable monster of a cock against her ass cheeks.
“You can’t be!” she squirmed. “Even boxers rest between rounds!”
He gave a rich, low chuckle. “Please,
bella
. Don’t insult me by comparing me to a jock. I’m Lonzo-fucking-Vitale,” he said without a tinge of modesty.
“Humble, aren’t we?” she said in her best ‘I’m not impressed’ voice.
“Is that a challenge I’m hearing, cara?” he asked before gently biting her earlobe. “Because I’m already up for it.”
She found herself giggling. The man really had no shame!
She shook her head as she continued with the charade. “Don’t you have a business empire to run?”
He continued to lace butterfly kisses along the line of her neck, “I delegate.”
She bit her lower lip to stop from moaning when he licked a spot behind her ear.
“Surely you have other things to do?” her question came out hoarse.
“You’re the sole item on my to-do list.”
How can she say no to him when he would say things like that?
When one of his hands slid beneath her skirt to inch its way up her thigh, she gave up all pretenses of indifference.
“We can’t spend the entire day in bed! We’ll end up with bedsores if this continues!”
“Who said we’re going to do it in the bedroom?” he asked.
“You can’t mean—”
“We’ll do it here. Open those legs wider for me, woman. Damn, I told you not to wear panties anymore when you’re…ummm…fuck, yes…you’re soaked through—”
Then she remembered they were in the kitchen and someone may…
“Lonzo, stop! Thio or anyone could—” she said as she tried to fend off his questing hand.
“Let them—” he replied, unperturbed. He continued to distract her by simultaneously nibbling her neck as he painted circles on the engorged button between her thighs.
“Lonzo!” she shrieked, horrified at the thought of being caught doing it in public. Then she tensed when one of his long fingers found its way beneath the elastic of her knickers. “We mustn’t!” she protested even as her head lolled back against his shoulder.
The wicked man just laughed. “Oh yes we fucking will.”
She made low, sobbing sounds when his talented fingers strummed her insides into submission.
“Lonzo, please…I won’t be able to hold my head up if—” she cried, attempting to protest for the last time before the cloud of lust took over her befuddled brain.
He caught her upturned lips as he grounded his hips from behind. He kissed her senseless for several minutes before he lifted his mouth.
“So, my little bella is still shy, eh? Don’t fret, Jordana…Thio and the rest of the household are busy at the vineyard. We have the entire house to ourselves,” he informed her.
“Oh.”
“Do you know what that entails?” he asked.
Her heart started to drum furiously inside her. Several ideas came into mind—too unchaste and wanton to reveal. “N-No.”
“No surface will be left unused,” he declared before she heard him tearing the seams of her panties. “Hold on tight to the counter top, Jordana. You're going to scream this house down…”
How can she say no to the wizard of ohhhs?
True to his word, they christened every room
and surface. And some. For someone who held on to her v-card for a long time, she found herself making up for lost time, addicted to his masterful touch. In the span of several days since their ‘renewed’ arrangement, they had made love at every opportune moment. She stopped counting at twenty.
It became evident that his impact to her life went beyond the four corners of the bedroom. Oh, at first it was hardly noticeable. Like tiny pebbles being dropped one at a time in the pond of her subconscious; it collected and slowly chipped its way on the protective walls she placed around her heart.
With every minute she spent around him, her fascination grew.
She saw how he genuinely cared for Thio Fredo. He fussed and worried over the old man. Oh, they would argue vociferously over nothing and the smallest of things. She was quick to learn that it was an Italian trait—yelling and screaming one moment and then laughing out loud in the next minute. But amid the caustic comments and arguments, there was true, honest-to-goodness love between the two men.
She was also surprised at how he was held in high esteem by the other members of his uncle’s household. He treated them like family and looked after their interests and that of their extended families.
“Aside from giving the workers a portion of the profits from the vineyard, he made sure they have insurance and that their kids could go to school with assistance from the VI Foundation,” Thio Fredo imparted.
“How come that’s not searchable on Google?” she asked.
He was the subject of countless magazines and newspaper articles. How come this wasn’t reported by the mainstream media?
“He dislikes publicity. He didn’t like to broadcast when he’s helping out. He said it’s tacky.”
He was portrayed as a brilliant, enigmatic billionaire playboy. But that was a one-dimensional characterization—he was so much more than what he chose to show the world.
She began to loosen up whenever they were together. She cracked up at his dry sense of humor. The man was a quick wit that she had to come up with a couple of wisecracks of her own. She looked forward to their banters, which more often than not were sexually-laced and a prelude to more pleasurable activities. But hey, she wasn’t complaining.
She couldn’t recall smiling or laughing this frequently before.
But it was the little gestures that made her wish this ‘arrangement’ was more than what it really was.
Like holding hands. They have been sexually intimate for weeks but that simple act presented a different kind of intimacy that she found hard to explain. She could also tell it was something he too wasn’t used to because the first time he did so it was under the dining table, away from the view of everyone where he drew lazy, electrifying circles on her palm.
But he got over that pretty soon. Now they openly held hands like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was either that or he had his arm over her shoulders or resting on the curve of her hip. At first she was a bit self-conscious at the curious stares they got from the people at the vineyard but she eventually got over all of that when it became evident that his people seemed pleased at them being a ‘couple’.
He had an adventurous streak which was infectious.
When she mentioned in passing that she didn’t know how to ride a bike, he took it upon himself to teach her the following day. He wasn’t too far behind to catch her as she was learning how to balance herself on two wheels. By the end of the day, they were seen riding around the property.
He acquainted her to the intricacies of wine-making and the kind of wine that this particular part of Tuscany were known for.
“Montalcino is considered the birthplace of Brunello wines. It’s a sought-after red wine,” he explained to her as they walked over his uncle’s fields one morning.
“Why is it sought after?”
“It requires a long aging process and uses only one type of grape, the Sangiovese variety,” he replied as he pointed at fragrant, purplish grape varieties being grown on the vineyard.
“How long?” she asked, her face rapt with interest.
“About forty-eight months minimum. They are aged in oak casks that we source from Slovenia. It transfers a little oak flavor.”
“Wow. Overall, the process lasts almost half a decade!”
“Which explains why it’s so expensive,
cara
. Growers like my uncle can’t mass produce these wines. Montalcino has a wine consortium which helps keep prices at a premium,” he added.
As they walked toward a row of the newly-planted Sangiovese vines, she caught something that made her stop mid-stride.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“What is what?”
“Why am I really hearing classical music in the middle of a vineyard?”
“Oh, that. It’s Mozart. An American university convinced Thio to install those bloody speakers in the middle of this particular plot—” he confirmed, pointing at the strategically-placed speakers.
“I’ve heard of pregnant moms listening to classical…but grapes? That’s a first,” she said, perplexed.
“I kinda like it that your firsts are with me.”
Her heart swelled.
Lonzo grinned. “It’s part of a scientific research. They want to determine the benefits of subjecting vines to sound waves.”
“And are there really benefits?”
“You’d be surprised. Initial results suggests it makes the vines stronger and makes the ripening process of the grapes shorter. Of course, it also drives away pests. They simply can’t stand Mozart—” he said, his face deadpan.
She eyed him suspiciously. “Is that so?”