Heaven's Ballroom

by Aiden Bates

  “Riley, this is Malcolm Hayward—my boss. Mr. Hayward, Riley.” Max made the introduction with a little tension in his neck.

  I didn’t blame him. So this was the pervert of a boss he’d mentioned earlier.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Hayward,” I said, holding out my hand to him.

  Then, Hayward did something that did surprise me. He dipped low as he took my hand, pressing a wet, sloppy kiss to my knuckles. Before he pulled away, he inhaled deeply. Smelling my skin.

  “Mm. Delicious.” He looked up at me with a grin that was all teeth. “Then can I get you a drink, you delectable little thing?”

  I glanced up at Max, immediately uncomfortable. There was something off about his boss—something that resonated beyond anything that Max could have warned me about.

  “Riley’s not drinking either, I’m afraid,” Max tugged me closer still to his side, beaming with pride. “We’re expecting.”

  “Are you now?” Hayward reeled back, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Griffin, you dog! I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone. Smart of you not to say, though. If you’d mentioned, I might have stolen this one away before you pumped him full.” He turned his grin back on me again. “You know, you have me to thank for this. I’ve been telling all the Alphas on my staff that they need to start settling down. Hayward Financial is a family company, after all.”

  “Do you have children?” I asked, trying to appear interested.

  “Only bastards,” Hayward said with a roaring laugh. “For now, anyway. But maybe someday. Someday soon, I hope.” He licked his lips, staring at my belly now. Like he was searching for my baby bump—still non-existent beneath the shirt of my tux. “But if you two are expecting—well, let’s have some champagne then. We ought to celebrate!”

  Max didn’t betray it well, but I could see he was just as uncomfortable as I was. Especially when Hayward said the word bastard—Max’s fingers had twitched against my skin.

  Just then, the band struck up a new tune and I saw our out.

  “Actually, Mr. Hayward, Max has been promising me a dance since we arrived. You don’t mind if I steal him away, do you?”

  Hayward’s face fell, but he nodded, backing away. “Of course, of course. He’s clever to keep you close.” The toothy grin reappeared with seemingly twice as many incisors. “You’ll have to save one for me later on though, Riley, my dear.”

  Max and I kept up our smiles until Hayward was out of eyesight. When Max’s finally disappeared from his lips, he gave a relieved sigh.

  “That was quick thinking,” he said softly.

  “I told you I was quick on my feet, didn’t I?”

  A new smile tugged at the corner of Max’s lips, trying to find purchase. “So you did. Let’s test out that theory on the dance floor then, shall we? After all…I promised, apparently.”

  “So you did,” I agreed with a little laugh as Max pulled me off toward the band, his fingers wrapped tightly around mine.

  10

  Max

  “You move pretty good, you know.” I turned Riley’s hand over in mine. He had a slender palm and long, artistic fingers. Soft skin. He made my own hand seem boxy and rough by comparison.

  He threw his head back, closing his eyes as he swayed to the soft snare of the drum beat. “I’m a dancer, Max. Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten.”

  A flash of that first night rose to my mind. The way his hips had moved, grinding primally against mine. Now, he pressed them flush against my thighs while the band’s singer gave his best Frank Sinatra, begging in a croon to please be true and fly him to the moon.

  “I couldn’t forget if I tried,” I told him. Meant it, too.

  It was a welcome distraction from Hayward’s drunken boisterousness. Dancing give me a chance to get a better view of who had come out for the night—Alton Palmer, our CFO, on his phone in the corner, and Nathan Garnet, the smooth-talking finance man from Sterling Enterprises, purring sweet nothings into the ear of a giggling Omega on the dance floor just a few feet away. Duncan Rourke, another Sterling man, was posted up at the bar with an Omega of his own on his lap, while Don Sterling himself sipped champagne at his table, surprisingly single—though I was certain that wouldn’t be the case by the end of the night.

  “This room is full of wolves,” I grumbled, shaking my head.

  “It’s Manhattan, Max. What did you expect?”

  “Just stick close to me,” I warned him. “You’re already on Hayward’s radar. I don’t need you on anyone else’s.”

  Riley flashed me a teasing grin. “Feeling a little jealous, are we?”

  “Protective, more like.”

  “Protective? Over little ol’ me?” He fluttered his eyelashes, the picture of innocence.

  “You don’t know what these men are like.”

  “Then tell me.”

  I rolled my lips in, considering it. “They’re scoundrels, Riley. They’ll steal an account from under your nose one minute, then swipe your date the next.”

  “Maybe you’re the one who ought to stick close to me, then. I don’t want to catch you necking one of your rivals behind the coat check desk later on.”

  I laughed. “That’s one thing you’ll never have to worry about with me, at least. Even if they weren’t all Alphas—I take faithfulness seriously.”

  He raised his eyes to mine. “So do I.”

  “I’ve never met an Omega who didn’t say that. In the beginning, at least.”

  “And in the end?”

  I glowered. “Everyone cheats in the end.”

  “Even you?”

  “I consider myself the exception that proves the rule. These other Alphas, though—they might look red-blooded at first, but trust me. They all bleed green.”

  “And you think I’ll be so easily tempted by a fat wallet and an Italian suit.”

  “You’re with me, aren’t you?”

  I spun him, enjoying the graceful way he moved his feet as he fell back into step after the twirl. Despite Hayward’s drunkenness and my doom-and-gloom outlook, Riley seemed to be having a good time. Didn’t stop me from noticing the way Garnet eyed him as we cut a rug across his path—or the way we’d managed to draw even Don Sterling’s stare from across the room.

  “You should loosen up, Max,” Riley purred into my ear, pressing close to my chest as the song reached its final bars. “I know who I’m going home with at the end of the night—and it’s not because of the size of your wallet.”

  I sighed, bowing my head to rest my nose against his temple. He smelled like the shampoo from the guest bath—jasmine and cedarwood. Clean and fresh.

  “I appreciate that,” I said. He was right—there was no need to be so on edge. Hayward might have had his eye on Riley, but that didn’t mean Riley was about to go running off with the bastard. It wasn’t Hayward’s baby growing in Riley’s womb—it was mine.

  “Good.” Riley pressed a quick kiss to my cheek as the song ended. “Then I’d appreciate if you could snag us some food. I’m going to run off to the bathroom real quick. Meet you back at our table?”

  I nodded, releasing his fingers as he gave a final little spin away from me. He glanced over his shoulder at me as he went in a way that I liked—almost as much as I liked the way his ass looked in those tuxedo pants tonight. I’d have to give my compliments to my tailor the next time I was in the shop—with no measurements and on such short notice, he’d done an excellent job.

  Or maybe, my boyfriend just had such a nice ass that it was a pleasure to watch him go.

  Boyfriend. I caught myself thinking the word as I headed back to the buffet table that Hayward had driven us away from earlier. It was a dial back from the husband I’d heard from the pharmacy clerk on the night I’d bought Riley his prenatals, but it raised a strange question in my mind. What exactly was Riley to me? On our first date—if I could even call him that—I’d paid him for his company. On our second, he’d told me that he was pregnant with my child.

  I
t wasn’t any kind of romance that I’d ever heard of, at any rate.

  But before I could puzzle our situation out any further—or snag any of those mushrooms to satiate Riley with when we met back at our table—a hand shot out of the crowd of dancers and dragged me back into the fray by the elbow. The band had struck up a new song, Ella Fitzgerald’s “Cry Me a River”.

  The look in my ex’s eyes when the singer started crooning the words reminded me why these days, I mostly listened to classic rock ‘n roll.

  “No,” I told him plainly, feeling the tug of Ethan’s hold on me even as I tried to pull away.

  “What do you mean, no?” he simpered, pouting like offending him was something I still gave a shit about.

  “No as in, this isn’t happening. No as in, I’ll be leaving now.” I unwound his fingers from my arm, unsure of what he was even doing here. He certainly hadn’t paid for his thousand-dollar-a-plate ticket by himself. Ethan was a barnacle of a man; he tended to attach himself to whatever ship happened to be in the vicinity of his harbor, looking for a free ride.

  It meant that he’d already found someone else to bankroll his bullshit, more likely than not. I’d already spent too many months with him clinging onto me like that; the last thing I needed right now was to find him here, digging his claws back into the jacket of my tux tonight.

  “Come on, Max. I want to dance. When I saw you over there with that slutty little Omega on your arm…well, I guess you could say I just couldn’t help myself.”

  “Not being able to help yourself seems to be your forte.” I held my shoulders stiff as he wound his arms around my neck. He smelled like too much cologne and an entire bottle of brandy—expensive, but in such excess, it came off as all too cheap.

  “Maybe I’m here to say I’m sorry,” he cooed.

  “Say it, then.” I was grinding my molars just being this close to him. The trip to the dentist that would probably have to follow sounded more enticing than continuing this dance right now.

  “Why don’t you let me show you instead?” He ran his tongue across his lips and plucked my bow tie loose. “I miss you, Max—and you know I always seem more penitent when I’m on my knees.”

  I didn’t think it was possible for my muscles to tense any more than they already were—but hearing his offer left me frozen with disbelief.

  I didn’t want to make a scene. I’d never been the type—especially not with my CEO, my CFO, and all the boys from Sterling Enterprises lurking about. But my temper was hammering my heart in my chest like a war drum. My chest felt red-hot and roaring.

  “You feel the need to get on your knees tonight, you find yourself some other sucker, Ethan—or better yet, you find yourself a church.” I twisted away from him faster than he was able to recover from, marching for the bathrooms like my life depended on it.

  Riley. I needed Riley, and I needed him now. Before I punched a goddamn hole in the wall. Before I made exactly the kind of scene that I needed to avoid.

  I found him quickly enough. He was in the hallway to the bathrooms, his scotch-colored eyes searching out for mine in a panic.

  It didn’t do anything to soothe the rage that I had clenched tight in my fists, though. Namely, because Riley wasn’t in that hallway alone.

  I recognized the back of Hayward’s head immediately. I’d stared at it with annoyance often enough at the office as he hit on his secretary or screamed at the janitorial staff. Normally, I just suppressed my urge to smack it and slipped the slighted party a box of apologetic chocolates the next day—but as I saw him there, cornering Riley in the hallway and raising that look of fear in my Omega’s eyes, I realized how fucking badly I wanted to pound my own boss’ jaw in.

  “Come on, sugarlips. Don’t play all coy like that with me.” I could hear Hayward oozing the words as I approached, just as threatening as they were saccharine. “I’ve seen you down at the Ballroom, angel. I know exactly how talented you are with those hips and those thighs…”

  My fists clenched even tighter as I approached. No one talked to Riley like that. Not me, not his fucking clients—and certainly not drunk-off-his-ass Malcolm Hayward during a goddamn fundraising gala.

  “The way I dance when I’m at work has nothing to do with how I behave when I’m off my shift, Mr. Hayward,” Riley snapped back at him with so much venom, it nearly stopped me dead in my tracks. “If you’re finding yourself confused about that, maybe you’re spending too much time paying for company.”

  Suddenly, the rage in my chest turned into something lighter. Brighter. The fires burning inside me soared skyward—but now, instead of consuming me whole, they were lifting me up.

  Hayward might have been a conscienceless prick—but what Riley had told me on the dance floor hadn’t been a lie in the slightest.

  He was staying faithful to me. Staying true.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are?” Hayward sneered at him, just as I came up behind their little scene.

  “He’s with me.” I curled my fingers around Hayward’s shoulder and pulled him away from my Omega. Away from my man. “And we were just leaving. Riley?”

  Riley nodded, slipping away from Hayward and winding his arms around mine.

  “Party’s just starting, Griffin.” Hayward’s voice was sinister as his dark, ruthless gaze met mine. “Would be a shame for you and your little date here to head home so soon.”

  “There’s a lot of shamelessness going on here tonight,” I countered. When I looked down at Riley, there was a tired gratefulness in his eyes. “You ready to head home?”

  “Thank you, Max,” he said softly as I led him away. “I know how it must have looked.”

  “Like my asshole boss doesn’t know his goddamn place.” I wrapped an arm around Riley’s waist, guiding him through the sea of tables with ease.

  “You don’t mind leaving early?”

  “Not at all. This party is turning out to be a shitshow anyway.” When we reached the exit, I nodded to the valet and turned Riley to face me, holding the sides of his arms tight. “You didn’t do anything wrong in there. I’m not mad at you. I need you to know that.”

  “I know.” He closed his eyes, breathing in deep. “I’m just glad you showed up when you did.”

  “Good. Because I’m getting you home immediately.”

  He smiled gently, a flush of pink tinging his cheeks. “Your place or mine?”

  “Mine.” I reached up, running a thumb along his jawline. “I want to remind you who you belong to, Riley.”

  His smile widened—weaker than it should have been, but bright as ever. “I don’t think I mind.”

  11

  Riley

  I don’t think my heart stopped racing until Max closed the door to his apartment, locking it behind him.

  And even then…the way he was looking at me…

  That look of his grabbed hold of my pulse and sent it off to the races all over again.

  “That’s some stare you’ve got there, Max.” I was doing my best to flirt still. To make things seem normal again. But the way Max’s boss had cornered me when I came out of the bathroom, shoving me up against the wall like that…it had me shaken. No matter how deep I tried to bury that discomfort, it was impossible to deny. “Do I have something on my face?”

  “No.” He shrugged off his jacket, revealing the stark white of his tuxedo shirt and a bow tie that must have come undone on the ride home. "Just...observing."

  “Observing what?”

  “You’re nervous still. I can tell—you were biting your lip the whole way home.”

  “That’s not anything worth staring at,” I countered—even though he was right. I had my lower lip between my teeth even as he spoke. If I kept it up, I’d have it chewed raw by morning.

  “I beg to differ.”

  “Oh?”

  Max tossed his jacket onto a hook by the door and came nearer to me, taking long, slow strides. “Makes me think how bad I’d like to have your lips between my teeth instead.”


  “It’s hot in here,” I said, shrugging off my own jacket. That was a lie—Max’s penthouse was always a perfect temperature. The heat I was feeling was my own, bubbling up in my chest then sinking and pooling in my core.

  “We should get more of those clothes off you, then.” He bit his own lip, mirroring me.

  “Maybe we should,” I said softly as he came up to me, toe to toe.

  Max was a tall man. Taller than me, certainly. Taller than most. He had a few inches on his idiot boss, even—but when Malcolm Hayward had loomed over me, I’d only felt panic. Fear.

  When Max loomed over me in the same way, fear was the furthest thing from my mind.

  “Well, you could keep watching,” I offered, “…or you could help?”

  Max breathed in, his chest rising and falling like a billows. Adding flames to the fire that burned between us, so hot that he must have been feeling it too.

  “Thought you’d never ask.”

  His fingers tore at the buttons of my tuxedo shirt, pulling away at it until he revealed my chest. His lips dipped low, hovering over my skin. He was hot when he was like this. Possessive. Raw. But his kisses were even hotter. They claimed the expanse of my chest as he undid my belt, pulling me by my belt loops until his body was flush with mine.

  “Someone’s eager,” I teased, panting with every kiss.

  “You have no idea,” he growled back at me—and then his lips were away from my chest and level with my mouth, kissing me hungrily as he gripped my thighs.

  We undressed each other in fumbling, stumbling glory, conquering the space between his front door and his bed in discarded dress shoes and abandoned ties. I groaned into his lips, my body swimming with desire like it was the first time.

  Technically, it was the second—but as my arms wrapped around his neck, I discovered that he hadn’t lost his novelty in the least. If anything I wanted him even more now. I needed him in a different way this time. Our first had been a knee-jerk—a wanting that I’d acted on out of sheer need for someone. Anyone. He’d just happened to be the man I’d been grinding on at the time.