Billionaire Season 3: Summer Ablaze (Billionaire Season Trilogy) by Kimball Lee

Eight
     
    The intimate wedding ceremony at Greenlea Plantation wasn’t quite as intimate as William the third had led his son’s to believe. There were hundreds of guests and almost as many cars so Walden ended up running over a few of the privet hedges that had been specially clipped into the shape of wedding bells for a lack of any other place to park. Thankfully he had given the Maserati to Eleanor Selig and purchased a four-wheel drive Ford truck, so although the decorative shrubs were ruined his vehicle wasn’t.
    “Your new stepmother isn’t gonna be too happy ‘bout those fancy hedges, boy, but I never did care for them in the first place. Besides, I don’t give a damn what that crack-ho thinks, do you know she had the gall to think she could run me outta my home” Mae said, waving her arms to indicate the plantation house.
    Walden zigzagged through the plethora of cars on the driveway and hurried up the steps to plant a big kiss on her cheek. “You are too much, boy,” she said, blushing, her hand fluttering to her lips to hide an adoring smile.
    “She’s stupider than she looks if she thinks you can be forced to leave this place. And what the hell, you don’t even know the meaning of crack-ho, where’d you hear a word like that?”
    “From you, you filthy-mouthed child, now I got things to tend to. Seems like every Tom, Dick, and Harry turned out to witness this circus. ‘Scuse me now, I got to check up on your daddy, he’s been hittin’ the whiskey pretty hard all day. Not that I blame him, that Hannah, she is a piece of work, umhmm, born to money but walks and talks like cheap dime store trash.”
    “You kill me, Mae. Where is the virginal bride? I’ve got a wedding gift for her,” Walden said, and Mae cut her eyes up toward the top of the stairs then shook her head, crossed herself, and went out the back door muttering every curse word she could think of.
    Walden bounded up the stairs and burst through the door of the master bedroom where Marilyn was cinching her daughter into a white lace corset.
    “Goodbye Marilyn,” Walden said, holding the door open for her as she ducked under his arm and huffed out. Hannah tilted her head playfully and shot him a grateful smile.
    “Why don’t you marry me Walden? Your daddy has about worn me out with that bottomless bottle of Viagra he bought on the internet. I swear to mercy he ought to have keeled over by now and they don’t do him a bit of good anyway, his dick’s as limp as a wet rag. Come here and give me some sugar, sugar!” She said, strutting toward him with a look of superiority while her nimble little fingers unlaced the corset so that it slipped to the floor and she stood before him in nothing but a garter belt, white stockings, and stilettos.
    “I usually draw the line at defiling a bride on her wedding day but I have a feeling you’re not ever gonna make it to the altar, chere,” he said, running his hands over her thin frame, his thumbs circling her sharply jutting collarbones, then teasing her erect nipples as she cursed and pressed his hands into the tender flesh of her breasts. “Hannah, Hannah—didn’t that smartass lawyer tell you that all the money you’ve got your sights set on is tied up in trusts for Warfield descendants? And don’t start in about having babies, the old man’s memory is a tricky thing, I don’t think he remembers that my mother insisted he have vasectomy after I was born.”
    Hannah winced as if he’d struck her for about half a minute, but then she regained her arrogant composure, slapped his hands away, dropped to her knees and quickly unzipped his fly. Her eyes flashed up to his, daring him to stop her, but he didn’t, he peeled off the jacket of his tux and let her slide his pants down just far enough so that his cock sprang free. She was always caught off guard by the size of Walden’s cock: It was sizeable even when he wasn’t aroused and when he was, it was scary big and made her mouth