Baby, Don’t Go – Beach Babies Read Online M.K. Moore

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 6
Estimated words: 6086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 30(@200wpm)___ 24(@250wpm)___ 20(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

Baby, Don't Go - Beach Babies

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

M.K. Moore

Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
B097Q3BYPL
Book Information:

Cain Adams
Beautiful Georgia Stockridge, of the New York Stockridge's, has decided to summer at my resort. With her comes a large entourage and more paparazzi than I've seen. Her innocence is a direct contradiction to her public persona. I knew she was mine the moment she breezed into the lobby. Getting her was half the battle, how do I get her to stay?

Georgia Stockridge
Key West is gorgeous and so is the owner of the resort I'm staying at. After bonfires and sooo many drinks, (sex on the beach with the little cocktail umbrellas) I have an amazing parting gift to take with me as my parents try to make me do something to better our family.

Join me in Key West as Cain & Georgia fall in love in the hot, hot Florida sand.
Books by Author:

M.K. Moore



Chapter One

Cain Adams

From the balcony of my suite on the top floor of my resort, I look out at the ocean and breathe in the salty air. It’s early, about six-fifty, but the sun has already risen. I’ve been up since five and already worked out for the day. This is the first time I’ve been able to get down here all year. I’ve been stuck in our corporate office in New York. The Adams Hotel Group has hotels worldwide, but our first one, this one, is my favorite. My great-grandfather opened it in 1928, and we’ve only grown since then. Rumor has it that Ernest Hemingway stayed in this very suite when he frequented the Keys in the thirties. I don’t really believe that, but people do say it.

My brother, Abel, and I are spending the week training two new managers for this location. Usually, this wouldn't be a part of our job description, but both of the southeast training managers are on maternity leave, so I jumped at the chance to spend a week in the Florida sun and sand instead of the concrete jungle of Manhattan. We arrived late last night and came straight to the hotel. I took my room key and crashed hard, but my internal clock had me up and ready to go at five. I went down to the gym, not surprised to find it empty so early in the morning.

A quick shower and a light breakfast later, I am behind the concierge desk training Brindy, a twenty-something who worked her way up from housekeeping in a very short amount of time. She listens intently as I explain SuperNova, our state-of-the-art internal network, to her. From SuperNova, we can make or cancel reservations in any of AHG’s one hundred and thirty-five locations across the globe. I designed it myself, and I am immensely proud of it.

“So, we can enter reservations into the system for Hotel Morocco should we need to?”

“You can, but I doubt you will ever need to do that unless you are setting up a guest’s next stay at their next destination.”

“Okay, so Island Oasis is the tab where I’ll spend most, if not all, of my time?”

“Correct,” I answer. She’s getting the hang of this faster than I thought she would.

“Awesome,” she says, writing down some notes in the notebook she came prepared with.

Moving on, we cover the rest of day one’s lessons. At noon, I look up from the computer when the brass bell that sits on the counter dings and suck in my breath.

Georgia Stockridge is standing in front of me. The Vixen of New York, socialite Georiga Stockridge. Beautiful, unattainable Georgia Stockbridge. I’ve never been this close to her before. The fact that we’ve never met before surprises me since we are in the same social circle and frequent the same events and parties. The only reason I can think of is that I am nearly twelve years older than her—thirty-four to her twenty-two. However, the number one rule of working in hotels is never fuck the guests. I am about to throw that rule out the window.

“Hello. Are you checking in?” I ask. The receptionist stepped away to answer a personal phone call, so it’s just me. The woman standing in front of me slides a piece of paper over to me. Opening it, it’s a printed reservation confirmation from the website.

“Yes. Have we met before?” she asks, lowering her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose.

“We haven’t, but I do believe our mothers belong to the same Women’s Guild. Cain Adams,” I tell her, extending my hand out to her. “Welcome to the Island Oasis.”

“I’m Georgia,” she whispers.

“I know who you are. I have your reservation, Ms. Monroe,” I say, winking at her. “How many keys do you need?” She blushes. Surely to God, this woman has been flirted with before. I busy myself with programing her room key.

“Just one for this room. My assistant is checking in the others.”

“Others?”

“I believe we reserved three rooms, but I am not sure.”

“Not a problem. We’ll get you squared away.”

“They aren’t coming until tomorrow. I needed an entire day to myself. I am so overwhelmed, and I don’t know why I am telling you this. You don’t care about me or my reasons for needing a vacation.”

“You’d be surprised what I care about, Georgia,” I practically growl.

“I really don’t understand why they are so interested in me. I don’t do anything.”

“I am sure they have their reasons.” She looks fed up with life, and I’d do anything

“Don’t you own this hotel?” she asks suddenly.

“My family does.”

“And you work here?”

“No. I work in New York normally. Just doing some training.”

“I see. How long are you here for?” she asks, running her fingers from her right hand over the ones on her left one.


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