Billionaire Daddy’s Money Machine: A Dirty Money Role-Play Breeding Vacation Erotica

The crowd on Isla de Pandemonium’s infamous stretch of beach is always loud, but right now I can only hear her.

Kayla, my roommate and best friend.

She’s sitting in the white sand with her knees drawn up, drinking straight from a bottle of tequila, and she’s trying to whistle badly.

“Will you just try it, Matt? What’s a little bird shit, anyway?” laughs Kayla around the lip of the bottle, her black hair wild from the muggy breeze. “It’s not like we didn’t eat worse out on the rig.”

My Texas accent rears up alongside a smile as I pull on my tank top. “I don’t think I’ve eaten a bird turd since I was nine, darlin’, but be my guest. Give it a whirl.”

Across the fire, a tousle-headed Aussie snorts. “Couple of sick fucks we got here, Gloria.”

“The sick kind are my favorite,” leers the bartender we met earlier at the Pelican’s Nuts, giving Kayla’s defined shoulder a squeeze. “Anything goes with the Aussies, honey. Don’t be shy.”

Kayla peels her lips off the tequila and shakes her head. “You step out of line with him, I’ll have to steal his crutches and beat your bony ass, Gloria.”

In the pit of my stomach, I feel that there’s something I’ve been missing when it comes to Kayla. Something important not to miss when I’m planning on her—and only her—being my future. And in my steel-toed boots, my toes curl at the sentiment. She doesn’t talk about our arrangement in the future tense. Ever.

I take the bottle from her hands and drop down to join her in the sand, putting an arm around her. “Gonna be a shame to go back to our sad little corner of Corpus Christi, huh? This place is a motherfucking riot.”

“Fucking A,” says Kayla, and I feel her body relax into me. “Not that I don’t love being the only girl on an oil rig for weeks at a time. No camaraderie like oilfield trash stuck on a state-of-the-art monopoly board seven days a week. But I know I’m going to blink and find myself making babies and telling bedtime stories in the future. Not that I’m complaining. Don’t get me wrong. But I feel like the doorways to lame adulthood are slowly closing behind me one at a time. Mexico’s the last loophole.”

I take the bottle and toss back a swallow, letting the smoke of a nearby fire curl into my nostrils. “Nothing wrong with tying one on and getting weird in Mexico. Hell, you got Ozzie helping you out with that process.” I point to the crutches resting on her knees. “Kayla’s taking a break from ballet.”

My girl snickers and flips her hair off a tan shoulder. “I swore off dancing. It was getting in the way of my long-standing drinking problem, anyway.”

Gloria passes me a fresh beer. “You’re funny as hell, sugar. I’m going to give you a ten percent discount on every drink you order,” she tells Kayla. “Hey, you going to let me take our girl dancing later, Matt?”

“If you can pry her away from me, be my guest.” Warmth slides down my spine when Kayla shoots me a flattered look. “I already told you the rules of Isla de Pandemonium, right?”

She sweeps the hair off her neck and studies me through lazy, inebriated lids. “Sure did. No fathering village children, but aside from that, no rules.”

“This is true.” And yet, her mind has never been more fixated on me as it is here.

She can flirt her ass off, but there’s no denying the attraction between us—the taboo risk that’s taken on a life of its own and destroyed the others.

Kayla and I were supposed to be in this for fun, but it leads to snuggles and no condoms in the morning. It was only once, but it was enough.

There’s a low wolf whistle—that comes from Ozzie—and Kayla tries to return the favor but fails. “You got your pretty smile. That’s what keeps men throwing their jobs and money at you, right, Gloria?”

Gloria’s boobs squeeze against her tank top as she lets out a satisfied sigh. “You got me pegged, sugar. Otherwise, I’d have to work for a living.”

Kayla snickers, chilling out more than usual as we sit around our organic beach bonfire.

There’s sand in my boots, but I don’t mind. It’s hot, but she makes it hot. And when I think about how she’s going to be the last woman I love, she gets even hotter. And she’s getting ready to get up close and personal with me. Testing the waters until she’s ready to jump in butt naked.

I’ve got to be careful.

I let her have her freedom—indulge in procrastination, drag her feet with me, and take whatever she wants on Isla de Pandemonium. For now.

Gloria polishes off her piña colada and stands, lacing her fingers through Kayla’s dark hair. “Don’t you worry, cupcake. I’m going to drag you off to the undergrou