The Billionaire's Bet

  “Not looking so bad yourself,” I shot back with a smile, hoping my cheeks weren't as red as they felt.

  I'd been nervous about my dress, thinking it would be too simple for an event thrown by a family who could charter jets. Tiffany helped me pick it out a few months ago when I worked a business convention at Rock Bay, assuring me that this sort of simple sheath dress would work for dozens of different occasions and that one could never go wrong with black. Paired with a simple gold necklace and matching earrings, I hoped I looked elegant and purposefully understated rather than too poor to buy something by a big name designer.

  My stomach was doing flip-flops by the time we were seated, and I tried to convince myself that Dorian hadn't moved my chair just a little closer to him when he pushed it in. Still, as I sat through the speeches, I found myself occasionally glancing over at him, tracing the strong line of his jaw, the curve of his lips. His lashes were longer than most men's, but they didn't make him look feminine but softened his cheekbones instead.

  He caught me looking when it was his father's turn to speak and gave me a small smile. I managed one back even as my stomach fluttered. An image flashed through my mind, a fantasy I hadn't dared to allow come to the surface. One of the future, sixty years from now, when Dorian and I sat at the head table while our children and grandchildren offered us congratulations. Our hands linked, every inch of us declaring that we were as much in love as ever.

  No matter how hard I tried pushing it back, it wouldn't let me go, flitting through my head even as I tried my best to eat and drink, to make small talk. Fortunately, everyone seemed content to fill the silence themselves, and no one really noticed that I wasn't doing much talking.

  As soon as the dance floor opened for the evening, almost half of the people around me immediately got up and made their way toward it, the energy in the room crackling as couples spun around while I watched enviously. I loved dancing, especially at weddings, and I'd seen my fair share working at Rock Bay. Something about them just filled me with hope, despite the fact that my own marriage had ended badly.

  Suddenly, Dorian grabbed my hand and stood. I gave him a startled look, but his expression revealed nothing.

  “Come on,” he said.

  I didn't need any more urging. I shot up, following behind him as he led me, hand in hand, to where people were already swaying to the dulcet tones of Frank Sinatra. I wondered if he'd seen the longing on my face, or if he'd already intended to ask me. Like it was expected of him or something.

  “I wouldn’t have pegged you as much of a dancer,” I admitted as he pulled me to him and clasped one of my hands at shoulder height.

  His eyes betrayed a mirth that his lips did not. “My parents forced Enzo and me to take dancing lessons when we were kids. They said it was part of our education as dignified young gentlemen.”

  “Did it work?”

  “See for yourself.” He guided me between the other couples, not missing a single step. For someone so tall, he was even more graceful than I would have guessed.

  “I meant the dignified young gentleman part,” I corrected, laughing as he spun us around until we were half in the shadows.

  He winked, that smile finally reaching his lips. “See for yourself,” he repeated.

  We fell silent as we continued to dance. It was an enjoyable sort of silence, though. It wasn't that we didn't have anything to say to each other, but rather that we were just enjoying each other's company. Or maybe he knew as well as I did that if we started talking, there were things we'd feel compelled to say, and it would ruin the moment.

  So we didn't talk. I didn't know what was going on in his head, but in mine, I was focusing on the feel of his hand on the small of my back, heating my skin through the delicate silk of my dress. Or I was thinking about how perfect it felt to have his fingers wrapped around mine. Or that amazing scent of his.

  Eventually, however, my heels got the better of me, and even the prospect of continuing to be held in Dorian's arms couldn't keep me on my feet. “I need to sit for a minute.”

  He nodded and led me back to our table. I hadn't gone with my flats today since I could wear four-inch heels with Dorian and not tower over him, but now I wished I hadn't.

  As we sat, I felt our little isolation bubble follow us. Even though I was enjoying myself, I didn't mind that it now all seemed separate from us, like we weren't really a part of it, like we were on the outside looking in. It felt like there was actually an us, that we were more than just two virtual strangers brought together by chance. I knew the feeling wouldn't last, that we'd have to go back to our normal lives, but I intended to enjoy it while I could.

  The lights dimmed, and the songs slowed until the night began to draw to a close. I was exhausted, and it didn't look like I was the only one. All around the room, people were slowing down, loosening ties, and removing shoes. At first, I kept mine on since my hostess job had trained me to battle through the pain no matter what. But after a while, I quietly slipped them off under the table, feeling like a total rebel.

  Dorian leaned closer, his voice low in my ear. “Giving up on your shoes?”

  “Just for a little while,” I replied sheepishly. “They made my toes feel like they were broken. Much better now.”

  “Does that mean you'd be good for another dance?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to figure out if he was joking or not. But Dorian wasn't much of a joker.

  “Okay,” I said and pointed a finger at him. “But if you step on my toes, there'll be hell to pay.”

  He chuckled, and the sound went through me. “Duly noted.”

  His hand closed over mine, and he led me back onto the floor. There were a few couples left swaying, but it was almost like we had the whole place to ourselves. He pulled me close, sliding his arms around my waist, and I wrapped mine around his neck, leaning my head on his chest. We swayed together lazily, and nothing else in the world existed but us. No matter what happened in the future, I would always have this perfect evening.

  “Have you enjoyed your time here so far?” Dorian's breath tickled my neck.

  “More than I thought I would, if I'm being honest.” I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He was smiling down at me, and my stomach did a happy flip. I didn't know if it was the music or the smile, but something made me add, “You're not at all what I expected when I first met you, you know.”

  “Neither are you.”

  He held my gaze, pupils so dark they ate up the majority of his irises. I wanted to ask if that was a bad thing, because I knew from my end, it definitely wasn't. I kept my mouth shut though, not wanting to take the risk that I wouldn't like what he had to say. I didn't want anything to ruin what we had right here.

  “Let's go back to the table,” he said suddenly, taking a step back from me.

  I tried not to let it bother me that his response when we were having a moment was to move away. “Yeah, sure.”

  I reminded myself that he didn't owe me anything, that we'd made no promises to each other. Hell, we hadn't even had a date. Just a kiss and some looks, some easy-to-explain-away touches.

  Back at the table, I sat down, but Dorian didn't.

  “Don't go anywhere,” he instructed, stalking into the other room.

  I watched him go and tried not to feel dejected. Had I done something wrong? Said something I shouldn't have? If I'd offended him or made him think that I expected something from him, I needed to know so I could make it right. I had more on the line here than a little bit of embarrassment for an unrequited crush.

  The seats on either side of me didn't stay unoccupied for long. Before I had the time to feel conspicuous for sitting here alone, the seats were filled by two distant cousins. They weren't siblings, but cousins to each other as well. The woman with short, dark red curls was Charisma Nichols, the man was Kendall Myers. Kenny, he told me when we first met. I hadn't really talked to them much, but now they seemed eager to talk to me.

  “It looks like both
the Gianelli brothers are pretty sweet on you,” Charisma said, sky blue eyes twinkling. “You're a lucky girl.”

  Something about these two didn’t sit right with me. I wasn't sure whether it was because they seemed like the types who were always in other people's business, or if it was just a bad vibe I got from them. Either way, I would have preferred if I'd been able to make an escape, but I didn't want to be rude.

  “If you're interested in what your cousins are thinking, you should ask them,” I said.

  Kenny laughed, but there wasn't any real humor in his blue eyes. “Is that why they like you? Because of your discretion? Or because you're...generous?”

  I glared at him. It seemed my previous impression that he had a mean streak was an accurate one. He wasn't very subtle, but I wasn't sure if he was just crude, jealous, or trying to get a rise out of me. No matter the reason, I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of an over-the-top response.

  “I don’t think it’s any of your business.” I kept my tone cool. “I don't know how things work in your family, but I don't think I'd take it too well if my cousins were trying to get information out of my date.”

  Charisma chortled. “Hear that, Kenny? She doesn't want to talk to us.”

  I gave them a tight smile. “I just think that a person's business is their own. If you want to talk about something else, I'm all for it.”

  “We get it,” Kenny said, his tone deceptively light. “Just a word of advice, though, those guys are no good.”

  I didn't know either man well enough to have a solid opinion on that particular statement, but I did trust my gut enough to know that Kenny and Charisma were up to no good.

  17

  Dorian

  I hadn't seen Enzo for the past hour or so, and it took me more time than I liked to find him. Finally, I caught up with him on the patio, having a drink with his wife. I was pleased to see them together, though not surprised. While he took “dates” to professional events, he never brought any to family gatherings. Elina was aware that the women on his arm generally shared his bed, but he always made sure that stayed private. I didn't understand how Elina handled things, but it wasn't my marriage, so it wasn't my business.

  “Enzo,” I called as I walked up. Before he could say anything other than a greeting, I grabbed my checkbook from my inside pocket, wrote out a check, and slammed it on the table, then turned around and walked away.

  Enzo would probably be pissed that I'd done it in front of Elina, but that was his problem to deal with however the two of them worked out things like this.

  I had better things to do.

  As I entered the ballroom, I saw Briana exactly where I left her. Unfortunately, she wasn't alone anymore. I frowned as I recognized the pair sitting with her. I didn't know either of them very well, but it was enough for me to know that both Kenny and Charisma resented my side of the family for decisions made long before any of us had been born. If they'd taken an interest in Briana, it wasn't a good thing. In fact, it could be a very, very bad thing.

  I hadn't mentioned my cousins to Briana beyond their names, but judging by how uncomfortable she looked, she could tell their intentions weren't positive, no matter what they were telling her.

  I hurried over, the need to protect her surprisingly strong.

  “Hey,” I said, squeezing her shoulder. “Let's get out of here.”

  I didn't care that I'd interrupted Charisma mid-sentence, and if Briana's quick rise to her feet was any indication, she didn't either.

  I wrapped my arm around her waist and drew her in close as we walked out, letting the gesture speak for itself. Neither of us spoke as we walked to the elevator, but I could tell something was on her mind. She kept glancing up at me, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  When we finally made it into the elevator and had some privacy, Briana ended the silence. “Is something wrong?” she asked. “Did I do something wrong?”

  I knew I'd sent out mixed signals when I ended our dance abruptly, then left her at the table, but I'd known I needed to take care of the bet so nothing else could keep me from making my intentions perfectly clear.

  As I intended to do now.

  “No,” I said. And then, before she could say anything else, I pulled her to me and kissed her.

  She let out a quiet moan of pleasure as I ravaged her mouth, picking up right where I left off on that night on the beach. It had been torture for me, leaving her there. But at the time, I thought it was the right thing to do. I'd also thought that wanting her would get more bearable with time, sort of like becoming desensitized to certain things the more you were around them. Or realizing that she wasn't as good as I thought. I'd found fault in almost every woman I got close to, given enough time spent with them. There was no reason she wouldn't fit the pattern. Except she hadn't.

  So when she wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed her body against mine, when she curled her fingers in my hair and nibbled on my bottom lip, I knew I wouldn't be walking away tonight.

  The door opened to our floor, and we tumbled out, her breathing as ragged as my own. I grabbed her hand to pull her after me, holding her tight so I'd have a chance to talk her out of it if she tried to run. Her flushed cheeks, and the enthusiasm in which she responded made me think she wasn't going to take off, but I still didn't let go.

  My pulse pounded as I swiped my key. I'd never felt like this before, electricity racing across my skin, nerves on fire. I knew what it was to desire a woman, to want sex, to feel attraction. But this, this was something so much stronger than any of that. It was consuming, devouring.

  The moment I was in the room, I turned and caught her arms, slamming Briana back against the door as I took her mouth again. I didn't even try to make it gentle. There was nothing remotely gentle about what I was feeling.

  Her nails dug into my scalp as her tongue twisted around mine, and she moaned as I rocked against her. I bit her lip, and she dropped her hands to start pushing at my suit jacket.

  Our breaths were frenzied and heavy as she began fumbling with the buttons of my shirt. I was too impatient to bother with any niceties. I gripped the top of her dress and yanked, ripping the fabric down to her middle before letting it drop to the floor.

  “Dorian!” Her eyes were wide as she stared up at me.

  “I'll buy you a new one,” I promised, lips already on a journey down to the sensitive flesh of her throat. “Two, if you want.”

  I didn't add that she might need an extra one, because I couldn't guarantee I wouldn't do this again. Her response was lost in a whimper as I nipped and sucked on her neck, leaving little marks on her skin. They'd be easy enough to cover with makeup, but I'd know they were there. While my mouth was busy, my hands weren't idle. I flicked open her bra and palmed her breasts, her hard nipples points against my palms. She finally managed to get my shirt off, her fingers stroking my chest, alternating fingertips and nails.

  Fuck, it felt good.

  My cock was rock-hard before her hands even made it there. I ground it against her palm as she felt me through my pants. I groaned, returning my mouth to hers for a bruising kiss.

  Every one of my nerve endings sizzled. It didn't matter where she touched. My skin was on fire, and she was both the cause and the antidote. If something came between us right now, I had no doubt I'd spontaneously combust from need. And it was need.

  I needed her.

  Her skin was soft and warm to my wandering hands. I traced a finger up her ribs, then cupped her breast in my hand. She sighed and tipped her head back against the door, giving herself over to me. It was a beautiful supplication. One I was more than happy to reward.

  Bending, I pulled one taut nipple into my mouth and sucked. She hissed and arched toward me, and I repeated the treatment on the other side. My tongue and teeth worked over the sensitive skin on both sides, leaving her a panting mess, nipples swollen and pink.

  “Need more.” She rubbed her body on mine, her eyes dark with arousal. “Please, Dori
an, need more.”

  In one smooth motion, I swept her up into my arms and carried her into the bedroom, her lips now exploring my jaw and neck, leaving little bites of her own. I wondered if I'd even make it to the bed, or if I'd get too impatient and fuck her right on the floor. I didn't want that. I wanted this experience to be unforgettable, for her to remember it forever so that no other man could compare to me. I wanted to mark her as mine, even if the only permanent mark was in her mind.

  I planted her on the bed and then stripped off my pants, taking my boxer-briefs with them. I couldn't help but steal a glance at her expression as I straightened. I didn't consider myself a vain person, but I was well-aware of the fact that I had a physique that both men and women admired.

  Her reaction didn't disappoint. Her gaze slid down my torso, then lingered below my waist. Her lips parted, eyes widened, and as I wrapped my fingers around my erection, she made a hungry sound.

  Smirking, I retrieved a condom from my nightstand and rolled it over my cock before climbing onto the bed. I settled on my knees next to her legs and ran my hand up until I reached the delicate bit of lace she called panties. My fingers brushed against the crotch and found her even wetter than I'd imagined. I knew she'd feel like velvet, and I had to have a taste.

  I slid her panties down her legs and tossed them aside as she spread her legs without me having to ask. I stretched out, kissing at her inner thighs. She trembled as I moved up to her wet seam, then quivered as I blew air across her damp folds. When I licked her, she damn near fell apart.

  The moan she let out as I sucked her clit was like a fucking symphony to my ears. It'd been so long since I'd been with a woman I hadn't paid, that I was a little nervous as to what sort of response I could expect. Not that I thought the other women I'd fucked had faked it, but the type of escorts I'd hired had chosen this particular vocation because they enjoyed sex.

  Now, with Briana, I savored every response as I lavished attention on her, licking her pussy like it was what I'd been born to do. Hell, maybe it was. I couldn't say it was a destiny I would have minded.