Dirty Seduction: The Montgomery Billionaires, #1

COPYRIGHT

Copyright © 2024 by Juliette N. Banks. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced 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 review.

This book is a work of fiction and imagination. 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, events, or locales is entirely one of coincidence. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products and music referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication and/or use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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Author: Juliette N. Banks

Editor: Virginia Tesi Carey

Cover design by: EMCAT Designs

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Juliette is an independent author who has taken the romance genre by storm, writing hot heroes readers fall in love with.

Juliette also has a vast background in consumer marketing and previously published with Random House. She lives in New Zealand with Tilly, her Maine Coon kitty.

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Juliette N. Banks website

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BLACK HAWKE SECURITY

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The MARINE

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The MARSHALL – Coming Soon!

The RANGER – Coming Soon!

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THE DARK KINGS OF NYC

Dark Mafia Romance

The Darkest King - FREE

The Ruthless King

The Savage King

The Avenged King

The Merciless King

The Gangster King

THE DARK ALLIANCE SERIES – NEW

Dark Enemies to Lovers Romance

ASHES of SIN

ASHES of SAINTS

ASHES of CHAOS

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THE OBSIDIAN CLUB - NEW

Dark Billionaire Romance

Resisting Mr. Remmington

Obeying Mr. Kingsley

Taming Mr. Winters

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THE DUFORT DYNASTY

Steamy Billionaire Romance

Sinful Duty - FREE

Forbidden Touch

Total Possession

Desire Unbound

Dark Surrender

Ruthless Temptation

Naughty Festivities

Wicked Praise

Beautiful Ruin

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THE MONTGOMERY BILLIONAIRES

Steamy Billionaire Romance

DIRTY Seduction

DIRTY Temptation

DIRTY Player

DIRTY Billionaire

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THE MORETTI BLOOD BROTHERS

Steamy Paranormal Romance

The Vampire Prince - FREE

The Vampire Protector

The Vampire Spy

The Vampire’s Christmas

The Vampire Assassin

The Vampire Awoken

The Vampire Lover

The Vampire Wolf

The Vampire Warrior

The Vampire’s Oath

The Vampire’s Fate

The Vampire’s Obsession

The Vampire’s Storm

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The Vampire King

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Dear Readers,

You might not love Knox immediately, but I can guarantee you will, well before the end of the story.

Give him a chance to show you his depth and enjoy getting to know him like Payton does.

Juliette x

CHAPTER ONE

KNOX

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I hear the bathroom door open and drop my phone, glancing at the naked woman walking back into my bedroom.

Stacey Rodgers.

She’s one of the lawyers at Luxingtons, the high-end department store here in the United States, who stock our products. Our being Montgomery Enterprises.

Or more to the point, our brand Verity & Co., a fashion label which shares the same runways as all the big names in the industry. From men’s and women’s clothing to leather goods and perfume, we have luxury goods across the entire spectrum.

For those who can afford them.

My father, Ward, started the billion-dollar organization, and since I was a little boy, I have known that I would step into his shoes.

One day.

At twenty-four I’ve got many years ahead of me and I’m satisfied with my role as head of marketing. There is still much to learn, although I’d argue that my business and marketing degrees from Brown and shadowing my father from an early age has set me much further ahead than many my age.

My two younger brothers, Atlas and Levi and older sister, Bella, were much less interested in what Dad was doing. I remember Mom buying me a little briefcase when I was about five. I carried it everywhere. Inside I kept my GI Joe and a couple of toy dump trucks.

Serious business.

These days I spend the majority of my life in a suit—no briefcase or GI Joe—and the occasional sweats. A necessity when you’re six foot three and over two hundred pounds.

I’m not going to attract women like Stacey by letting all that muscle turn into a pouch. She and I have been flirting for months. When she flew in for the half-yearly review, I invited her back to my penthouse for a debrief.

I mean, she’s a beautiful woman and the tan from her recent tropical vacation made her tall, toned curves even more appealing. Plus, she’s a dynamite in the boardroom.

My favorite type.

To break.

The corner of my lip twitches as I recall how she lost complete and utter fucking control just twenty minutes ago. I’ve been looking forward to the day she screamed my name.

She did.

Loudly.

I’m surprised you didn’t get us a hotel room, Knox, Stacey says, pulling her panties on.

I toss back the sheet covering my now soft member and climb out of bed. No need. I know you’ll be professional about this, I say, reaching for my briefs.

Most women I fuck are clear this is just sex. Raw, rough, and passionate sex. Nothing more.

Once or twice, I’ve got it wrong and had to have the talk. The one that goes something like; this isn’t going to happen. I don’t date. I fuck. I thought we were on the same page.

It always works.

Their pride kicks in and they give me a shrug muttering that, yeah, I just thought it was an enjoyable night and we could do it again.

Nope.

I don’t like leftovers.

Stacey, though, is highly focused on her career and climbing the ladder within Luxingtons. She has a reputation for being tough, and today that determination was focused on me.

It was sexy as hell.

Hence my hour-long erection and deciding to do something about it.

Now?

Now I want to open my emails and sip on a Macallan once she’s gone back to her hotel.

More than most, I’ve got a clear path for my future. In another ten years, or so, I’ll take over my father’s role as CEO and lead Montgomery Enterprises.

Already I’ve made an impression with the board and our partners. When I was appointed the director of marketing sales had been low. I know why. My mother had died a few years earlier, and we’d all struggled to come to grips with the loss. My father included.

That had reflected on the numbers.

Now, a few years on, we’re back in a strong phase and soon we’ll be launching our next Verity & Co. collection. It’s an essential season for the company to gain more ground on competitors who benefited from our earlier weak performance period.

That time is over.

We have a couple of months to get everything ready and I’m excited to really show what I can do.

What if I want to do this again? Stacey asks, doing up her bra.

My eyes drop to the lace, momentarily disappointed to lose sight of her deep pink nipples which had been pressed firmly into my sheets while I thrust into her from behind.

I’ll admit, I’m a breast guy. Which is why I’d moved her up the bed, then had her sit up and face the wall while I took a handful and continued to pound her ass. Palming the wall, I told her what a dirty slut she was and she fucking loved it.

I’ve yet to meet a woman who doesn’t.

I’m sure it’s because you need some excellent upper body strength to sustain it. That and you can lower your hand and stroke the clit, which is always a winning move if you’re ready for some clamping around your cock.

I’m always ready.

But do I think Stacey wants seconds? No, she’s testing me. We both got what we wanted. No heart eyes needed.

I’m not looking to fall in love.

Or commit in any way.

In fact, I don’t date. I don’t take women out to dinner. Or go to the movies. Or walk hand in hand on the beach and watch sunsets.

I fuck.

When I hit my thirties, I might feel differently about settling down, but that’s a few years away yet.

Right now, my priority is growing Ward Montgomery Enterprises—or WME as we call it—to double the size by the time I take the lead.

A bold target given it’s already a multi-billion-dollar company.

You won’t, I finally answer, sliding my gold Rolex back on and then walk into my wardrobe. I select a pair of Prada jeans and a black cashmere sweater then return to the bedroom to find Stacey dressed. I’ll walk you down. My driver is only a few minutes away.

I stop a foot away and study her reaction to the fact I organized the car while she was tossing the used condom in the toilet.

Yeah, I’m an asshole.

I’m glad we did this. She smiles.

I smirk. It’s been in the cards for a while.

Now leave.

Stacey reaches for her purse, and I guide her through my multimillion-dollar Philadelphia penthouse apartment. She turns and places a hand on my lower abdomen, and I feel like she’s breached my personal boundaries despite having her lips around my cock an hour ago.

Or it might’ve been two hours. She had good stamina; I’ll give her that.

Stay up here, Knox. I can ride in the elevator on my own. I’m a big girl.

Then I’ll see you at the next review in six months.

We politely smile at one another for a final moment as I hold the door open. Then Stacey is gone.

Click.

Jesus, I hope she doesn’t share bedtime stories with Selena, her senior manager. I fucked Selena six months ago when she was in Philly for the last review.

I’m a private man. Who I sleep with is no one else's business, but being part of a wealthy family means people think they have a right to know. Especially the media.

Then there’s my father.

Ward had seen Selena and I chatting after our meeting six months ago, and apparently picked up on our chemistry.

Good night last night? he’d asked me the next day.

Yup. I sat opposite his huge oak desk, sipping my coffee while Ward swirled his ink pen around his fingers.

Deceptively casual, as I’d quickly learned.

So did you fuck Selena Warner?

Jesus.

What? I choked on my coffee, coughing as I wiped my shirt and blazer. Fortunately, I have a closet in my office with several spare shirts, suits, ties, and shoes.

Answer the question, Ward pressed.

Christ, Dad. Yes. I used a rubber. What’s the problem? I had asked, irritated.

Does he think I’m fucking fifteen?

Shaking his head, he leaned back in his chair. If you don’t know the answer to that, I’m even more disappointed. Lexington’s are an important retailer for us.

His comment had fucked me off even more. I mean, welcome to the twenty-first century, Dad. How did he think people met? At damn work. Among other places.

People fucked, they dated, and one day got married and made little humans together.

Is it on the news? No. Does anyone here know? No. I widened my arms. Selena left happy, so I don’t know what the issue is.

He’d sat staring at me with those disappointed eyes, but I’d made it clear to him that he had no right to dictate what I did with my cock.

He was my father.

He was my boss.

But what I did in my personal life, as long as there was mutual consent and it didn’t interfere with business, was none of his business.

However, I’ve been a lot more discrete with Stacey, and the dozen other women since then. I’m confident he hasn’t noticed.

Would he feel the same if I started dating one of them? No. Well, sorry Dad, but wining and dining women and all that charming stuff is for other men.

I fuck.

I fuck rough and hard.

CHAPTER TWO

PAYTON

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Where are my damn shoes?

I spy them under the chair in my bedroom and dive for them. Then hop on one foot as I pull on the black pumps, and race across the other side of my bedroom, reaching for my purse.

I slept in.

To make things worse, today is the first day of a new job. And I need this job. Or rather, I need to keep this job.

I fell asleep without setting my alarm last night, so was blissfully dreaming about lying on the beach in the Bahamas when I suddenly bolted upright.

I don’t know what woke me, but I’m grateful.

Now I have exactly ten minutes to get to my workplace. The good news is I live in an apartment building about seven blocks from the StoryCraft offices. The bad news is my hair is still a little damp and I haven’t had any coffee yet.

I tug on my black blazer and yank my shoulder bag over my head. Then grab my tinted lip gloss off the dressing table and race out of my bedroom.

The first thing I did when I woke was push the button on my De'Longhi coffee machine, so the delicious aroma has filled my apartment. One day I’ll own a Keurig, but not until after I’ve paid my student loan.

So approximately seventy-five lifetimes.

Or so it feels.

It could be worse, I remind myself. Much worse, and it still could be. If I lose this job, my father will make me pay back half of my marketing degree (he paid the other half) and the first year of law school.

Yale Law School - I’ll let you do the math.

That was the deal.

A renegotiated deal.

I changed degrees, and he was highly disappointed in me. Let me backtrack a little. Both my parents are lawyers and we all thought I would be too. Now Dad is a judge and when I told him I didn’t want to continue, I think it broke his heart a little.

But my father is not a soft man, so his reaction was a surprise. Oh, I knew he’d be unhappy, which was why I spent months keeping my thoughts to myself and then when I finally decided and told my then boyfriend, Asher; I was extremely nervous.

More on him later.

When I confessed, they were shocked and asked a lot of questions. Including what I wanted to do next. When I said marketing, Dad didn’t look impressed.

Hey, I could have said I wanted to be a stripper, I said with a cheesy smile.

Well, at least you don’t want to be a comedian, Dad deadpanned.

Are you sure about this? Mom asked.

I nodded.

I’ve been miserable all year, I told them. My grades are suffering, and I can’t see myself being a lawyer.

There are a lot of things you can do with a law degree, my father tried.

Dad. I... It’s not who I am. A marketing degree is a great foundation if I want to work for a good company or start my own business one day.

And do what?

I threw up my hands. I don’t know. I’m twenty! I cried. Just because you knew what you wanted to do. Most people don’t.

She’s right, Jerry, Mom said in support.

His frowning face watched me for a long time before the ultimatum arrived.

Fine. But here are my terms, he said.

Did I mention my father was a judge? He wasn’t about to agree and let me walk away lightly. I had known this, but I was still surprised by what came next.

"Do your Bachelor of Marketing, but you must remain at Yale. Your mother and I will pay for it, but if you don’t complete it, you will pay back the entire amount and the first year of law school."

My mouth fell open.

I’d always believed my parents were paying for college. They told me they would, and I worked hard to get into Yale.

Plus, Dad said. When you graduate, I want to see you stay in a job for two years. You need to stick to something.

Oh, come on, I cried, looking at my mom.

That’s the deal, my father had continued.

This isn’t encouraging her, Jerry, Mom had finally piped up in support.

He grumbled, then started on his fingers. Guitar, hip hop dancing, photography – and do you know how much cameras flipping cost? – and what happened to becoming a fitness trainer? Then you finally agreed to study law.

In my defense, no one had told me how early trainers started in the morning. I don’t rise before the sun. Not for anything.

Not even coffee.

I don’t have the flexibility for dance. You should really take some responsibility for that. After all, I’m half your DNA.

Again, thank goodness you aren’t looking at stand-up comedy. Yet. His brows lifted.

I flopped back on the sofa.

Great. So finish my degree and I have to stay in my first job for two years, I clarified. "If not, I have to pay it all back, including the first year of law school.

With interest, Dad said, standing.

What?

Mom patted my leg. We are not charging our daughter interest. Darling, you need to think carefully before you make this decision.

You know, this is part of me figuring out who I am as a person. It’s normal.

Christ, next she’ll tell us she wants to be a shrink. Dad walked out of the room shaking his head while Mom and I began to giggle.

"Laugh away, but I’m not funding any more of this finding yourself rubbish. That’s on your dime now," he called from the hall.

Then his head popped back around.

Finish your marketing degree, Payton. Do at least two years in a job, then I’ll wipe your debt. Until then, you’re liable. Can I assume you learned what that means while you were studying law at damn Yale?

More giggles.

I hear you, Daddy, I replied. I promise.

I just want you to stick to something. He shook his head. You’ll be surprised what you learn about yourself when you are forced to commit.

I hated that he saw me as some flake, when I really was just trying to figure out what I loved. Mom and I had talked for an hour after and she said she believed in me.

So I’ve been on a mission to prove to my father I could do this.

I graduated and then found a great job in Philadelphia. A year into the job, when I was nearly free of the financial burden hanging over my head, the PR agency sold and most of us were made redundant.

I freaked out.

The first thing I did was head home to speak to him in person.

Dad, I didn’t resign, so this doesn’t qualify as me quitting, I’d argued. After all, I’d been raised by two lawyers so I knew how to defend myself.

In my family's kitchen at least.

I accept that, Jerry Mills had said. Find another job in thirty days and I will overlook this small blip.

I will, I said. So, one more year.

No. The clock starts again at day one, Dad said, and even my mom looked shocked.

What? No, that’s unfair, I cried.

Life is unfair. Stay in this new job for two years. That’s the deal. Dad shrugged.

I had started to think repaying him was the easier option. Then I remembered how many hundreds of thousands of dollars it was and zipped my lips.

In any case, I had needed a new job so it was a moot point. Finding one that I loved and wanted to stay at for two years was the challenge.

Last week I had finally found something.