Irresistible (Underneath it All Series: Book One) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance)

by Ava Claire

  The whole building could crumble around us and I wouldn't have even noticed.

  “Ugh, I'm pretty sure she ruined my Jimmy Choos!”

  The high-pitched whine dissipated my lust-induced haze and I slipped my pointer finger back, forgetting I was holding a piece of glass. I gasped, the pain blooming and fading into a dull ache as I dropped the glass and turned to apologize to the pouty bitc-

  I choked on my apology when his mouth, the mouth I knew very intimately, was wrapped around my finger. In shock, in fucking heat, I gaped at him. His eyes sparkled with our naughty secret as his tongue lashed out and circled my finger.

  It was bad enough that I'd dropped my first tray ever, but I had a feeling climaxing on the floor of the VIP area would definitely cost me my job.

  I snatched my finger from him and scrambled to my feet. The blonde in the metallic spandex dress looked like someone had just delivered awful news. I was looking at her, she was looking at him, and the goose bumps all over me were proof that he was looking at me.

  Me, who should have been just another pretty face. And I wasn't too proud to admit that I didn't even have the prettiest one in our general vicinity. I learned how to contour and wing my eyeliner on YouTube, and I still felt like I looked like an amateur. I was surrounded by women who probably got hundreds of likes when they posted selfies. Women with no roll of fat to be seen anywhere, draped in dresses that were probably the latest and greatest from the runway. They were the stars with their names in the lights and I was barely qualified to be a stand-in. Hell, I was the help. But from the way he was eating me up, bit by bit, you'd think I was the celebrity everyone was pointing their phones at.

  Blushing? No...my whole face was on fire.

  “And who is this?” The blonde's voice held all the incredulity that I felt.

  I blinked, her question almost flying right over my head.

  My name. It was clear he and I knew each other, and she wanted to know how.

  I finally turned my attention back to him, my stomach in knots. Names were never used at The Tower. I had no idea who he was until tonight and as far as he was concerned, I was just some escort.

  I almost gave him a fake name until I realized my name was etched into the name tag affixed to my black dress.

  I opened my mouth, but the blonde stepped in between the two of us, leaning in to do the honors. Her pale eyes narrowed.

  “Sadie,” she said aloud, wrinkling her nose like she'd gotten a whiff of something unpleasant.

  “Sexy Sadie,” he mused, reaching around the baffled blonde and extending his hand. “I'm Jackson. Jackson Colt.”

  It wasn't the first time someone had brought up the song that inspired my name, but it was the first time I didn’t roll my eyes.

  I expected him to awkwardly shake my hand, but he lifted my hand to his mouth instead, brushing his lips across my knuckles.

  I reminded myself to breathe. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Indeed,” he replied, our last encounter blazing in his eyes.

  I was in a sleeveless dress that was sexy and functional, considering all the bodies and motion in the club generally turned The Red Room up a few degrees. It didn't matter. I was sweating. Trembling. Wondering if I'd be jolted awake by a door closing any minute because this was all a dream.

  The cut on my finger tingled and reminded me that I was wide awake. I needed air. Space to clear my head. And I needed to get some fresh drinks before the blonde stomped over to the bar and started complaining about the inept hostess they were stuck with.

  I slowly retracted my hand, my fingertips grazing his skin. Like his fingertips had grazed my inner thighs when he forced me wider, so he could bury his mouth inside me.

  “I-I've gotta grab some fresh drinks for you guys.”

  I was pretty sure the blonde's follow up was, “Finally.” His sounded like, “I'll be waiting.”

  Dashawn asked me if I was alright as I squeezed past him and told him yes, even as the bar spun like some dizzying carnival ride around me. I made my way back to the bar, rattling off an order of top shelf everything and a water for myself. I downed the water in a single gulp and held up my finger for another.

  I gripped the bar with one hand and took my time with the second one. Jackson was just flirting with me. Like he flirted with everyone with a vagina. We weren’t soulmates. We were two people who'd been...intimate. Well, kinda intimate because I wanted to feel his tongue all over me. I wanted him to feel my mouth all over him. And then I wanted to climb on top of him and feel him from the inside. I had quite the list and it was getting longer by the minute. Because of the sex, I reminded myself. The chemistry. That's all this was. Pheromones and hormones. Strictly sex.

  Convinced and armed with my wits and a fresh tray of drinks, I made my way back up the stairs. This time, when I saw Jackson, I didn't trip up. He and another man sat in the center of the space. With caramel skin and green eyes, his friend drew just as much attention as Jackson did, but I had already staked my claim. From the way the blonde slipped onto the arm of Jackson's chair as soon as she saw me, so had she.

  She took her glass of wine with a condescending grin. “So glad I actually get to drink it instead of wear it this time.” She dipped her head toward Jackson, clearly expecting laughter or some sort of grin at her cleverness. He gave her neither. In fact, he gave me his full attention, smiling broadly when I handed him his drink.

  His friend accepted his with a nod and used his free hand to stroke his buzzed short hair. "You two know each other?" he asked curiously.

  Jackson and I answered simultaneously. My answer was no. His was yes.

  "Right," his friend answered, still smiling. He eased from the couch and beckoned the blonde with his finger. "Let's give them a minute, Shelly."

  I tried to not grin with victory when Shelly's expression went cold, letting him, Jackson, and me know that was the last thing she wanted to do. She didn’t make a scene though, rising without a word. She pulled down her dress an inch and followed Jackson's friend without another word.

  It was just me and him.

  Him with that perfectly messy dark hair and those playful eyes. He patted the seat beside him.

  I wasn't going to make it that easy. I tilted my head toward the hand with the tray. “I'm working.”

  That made him lift his eyebrow with interest. "Is that right?"

  I nodded slowly, knowing that I'd already made up my mind. This time, I was choosing him.

  I rounded the couch, stopping where Shelly had perched, attempting to mark her territory. I didn't perch like I was some groupie, draped on his arm like a beautiful accessory. I stood tall and looked down at the most powerful man in the room.

  His eyes were locked on mine. At first I thought it was because he'd already seen me in all my glory. I had a sneaking suspicion that wasn't it at all. He was trying to get in my head.

  Tough luck. The only plans I had for Jackson Colt involved me getting him back into bed.

  I bent at the waist and brushed my lips against his earlobe, breathing in the smell of him. He smelled warm and masculine and good to the last drop.

  “Come see me at the club later,” I whispered. “Finish what you started.” I took his earlobe between my teeth and tugged. “I dare you.”

  Before he could react, I snapped upright and walked back to where I was before. I didn't even have to look at his crotch to see if my invitation had its intended effect. It was all over his face.

  Hell yes, his gaze answered.

  Chapter Three: Jackson

  I'd left Joe and at the club an hour ago and he was still texting me for an explanation that was meatier than “I've got plans.”

  11:30 PM: (Joe) - Work plans?

  11:31 PM: (Me) - ...

  11:32 PM: (Joe) Nm, I'd know if u had work plans

  I lowered my phone to the seat beside me, hoping the case was closed. I knew it wasn't like me to turn down a night of debauchery and when Joe brought his 'friends,' I knew it mean
t a group of select, beautiful women who'd garner the kind of social media buzz that I was accustomed to. It was the billionaire high life—bottle service, people trying to snap a picture of you so they could brag to their friends, sexy women in skin tight dresses they were more than happy to remove...

  Joe didn't know that I preferred a night to myself. And if I had an urge for something wet and gorgeous, I preferred the women at The Tower. There was no pretense, no worries about attachment.

  Well, before Sadie.

  Sadie had nuked my covert desires the minute she'd roared back into my life. Or tumbled. She'd been in my head all day, I'd decided that I'd see her again, but when I had time to detach. Time to frame that night in terms of sex only. She was just an escort, I was just a client. I had to teach myself to think about the situation rationally instead of remembering how good it felt to be with a woman who didn't just bat her eyes and ask “how high?” when I said to jump.

  Remembering the way she felt when I touched her drove me mad. She was soft and unyielding in a way that captivated me. For a man that was used to wearing masks, one for the world and one for myself, I was well aware when I was faced with someone of a similar vein. Someone that was hiding. Her secrets, what lay beneath, were just as sexy as her moans.

  I could navigate my way to The Tower with my eyes closed. I knew if the rest of the world got wind of my private indulgences, I'd get every reaction from fascination to disdain. I was turning women into a commodity, they'd say. And before last night, they would have been right. Now? With my heart in my throat and the steering wheel locked in my fists? I wasn't sure what the hell I was doing.

  My phone chimed on the seat next to me and I knew it was Joe, still hunting for answers. You and me both, man.

  11:40 PM: (Joe) - Is it the girl from the bar? The klutz

  My fingers started flying at that, nostrils flaring.

  11:41 PM: (Me) - She's not just a girl. Or a klutz. She's-

  I pumped the brakes when I drew to a light. I counted my blessings and erased my knee-jerk text. I knew he didn't mean anything by it. He didn't know her. Hell, I didn't know her. I just knew that I was ten minutes away from getting closer to figuring her out.

  I was almost to the alley I'd turn down, squeezing between two buildings that would lead me to a discreet parking garage. The location was forgettable, just another skyscraper like every other massive building downtown. The difference was this skyscraper was owned by Marcus Knight, and the top three floors this week were used for The Tower business. The location changed every month, but one thing that didn't was his commitment to discretion and finding the most beautiful and skilled companions.

  There was only one woman I wanted to see tonight.

  I answered Joe's question with a smiley face and reached into the glove compartment for the burner phone. Sure, the flip phone was a little dated, but all of the intrigue made the process as sophisticated as some high-stakes, adrenaline-filled James Bond thriller.

  I idled in the alley and punched in the text only number with my access code: 3249. A few moments passed and I got my reply. 62832.

  I continued down the alley until I hit the wrought iron gate of the underground parking garage. I punched in the number given and the doors retracted seamlessly. I cruised past cars that looked like mine. Ferraris, BMWs, Mercedes. There were enough foreign and domestic luxury vehicles piled into this one parking garage that it would make a thief blow his load—until he realized that every inch of the garage was being recorded and monitored. And if you fucked with Marcus’s clients, his first call wasn’t to the police. He’d dial one of his handlers, who'd make you wish you for those whirring police lights instead of the black bag they tossed over your head.

  I almost took my phone and thought better of it, tossing it in with the burner and locking the car out of habit. I paused at the door, looking at my reflection and tightening my tie, scrubbing a hand over my face.

  Really? You're gonna primp and preen right now? Like you're going on a first date?

  I put that crazy talk out of my head as I breezed to the elevator. I'd done this before, so what was with the nerves? The more I tried to pretend it was just like every other visit to The Tower, the more my body called my bluff. My throat was dry as I stepped up to the elevator and turned my attention to the camera affixed to the wall. Whoever was watching the elevator cam was using facial recognition software to connect me to my account. This step in the screening process was to make sure my account was current and that I didn't have any infractions on my record. Things that got you kicked out of the collective were being too rough with the companions or letting it slip after a night of drinking that there was this amazing club where men could have the hottest pieces of ass on Earth, to name a few. Even that thought made my fists clench. Pieces of ass. That I'd ever treated Sadie or anyone else like that sent pangs of shame through me. That any other man got to touch her at all was suddenly an unacceptable reality.

  The light on the elevator clicked green. If it would have glowed red, that would have meant to vacate the premises immediately or face the kind of consequences that would require medical attention.

  The elevator doors opened and I stepped inside. Everything was new and shiny, like the elevator was fresh off the production line. The buttons on the panel were just for show. The elevator was controlled elsewhere and Marcus and his team determined where your destination was.

  I eased to a stop at the lobby level and stepped out. To the outside world and anyone that may stumble across the building by accident, appearances were kept up. Marble floors were beneath my feet and the focal point in the room was a reception desk with a perky woman in a suit behind a computer. There was a lounge area with an array of magazines to pass the time until your appointment.

  The receptionist flashed me a discreet smile and went back to whatever had her attention on the computer screen. The real receptionist was a virtual one, on the touch screen console to the far left of the counter. I entered my access code again and scrolled through my options like I had numerous times before. One key difference sent me down a different path - there was an option to request a specific companion. There were no names of course, but you could search by size, ethnicity, or hair color. I clicked the hair button and punched red, even though that seemed too non-descriptive for her. Flame colored, scarlet with a hint of gold seemed more accurate.

  I ignored the warmth that invaded my cheeks and the excitement that leapt in my chest when I found her picture. It was just a shot of her bra strap with her fiery tendrils swept to the side, but it was enough to make my cock harden with need.

  My enthusiasm must have been more evident than I realized because the real world receptionist was eyeing me with interest.

  “We're good?” I asked with a nervous half smile.

  “You can head on up.” She picked up a pen and bit the end of it suggestively. "Have fun."

  If you only knew...

  But did I? Did I know what I was getting myself into? This place was supposed to be my escape. A place where I could exercise control. My dirty little secret. Sadie knew my name and I knew hers. We were already crossing boundaries that I promised I'd never cross. The last thing I wanted or needed was attachment.

  So detach. You know how to put up a wall. How to shut down everything except achieving your goal. It was a lesson I learned the hard way, but I was pretty fucking skilled at the art of acting indifferent.

  The alternative, hurting her, or worse, her hurting me, was unacceptable.

  It's just sex, I assured myself. Picking up where we left off.

  That train of thought was rendered useless when I walked into a very different scenario than the last. She wasn't waiting by the bedpost, silent and brooding like she was ready to get this thing over with. She was behind the bar, making drinks for us. Making herself at home.

  She paused, ready to make me the same drink from the club. This time, the garnish was her smile. A real one.

  "Hey there."


  She was changing the script. Changing the rules of the game.

  I liked it. Liked it way more than I was supposed to.

  I wanted to change the script too, because the last time I'd kissed nearly every inch of her, except the delicious lips that were now wrapped around the rim of the wine glass.

  I didn't do relationships, and I couldn't remember the last time I'd longed to kiss any woman. Fuck? That was business as usual. The rest was a recent development. Sadie made me want to break all kinds of rules.

  And that was unacceptable.

  I hated to take my eyes off her, standing there in a sheer negligee that was the same color as her nipples. Nearly identical to the blush that lit up her cheeks and made her eyes glow.

  I turned my back to her and glared at the door, like it was its fault that I was in this predicament. A part of me wanted to stay on this ride as long as possible, navigating these unchartered waters until I discovered something new. Something that didn't leave me starving for my next fix.

  Or until you capsize and drown. That was the rest. The piece of me that learned a long time ago that hope was a trap that left you more broken than whole.

  "Hey," I grunted. I didn't make myself at home. I remained near the door, not trusting myself to go any closer, or I'd have no choice but to touch her. To take her.

  "'Hey'?" she repeated, her voice registering all the conflicting emotions I was battling. The thing that hit me right in the chest was the hurt. Like she'd been looking forward to seeing me and I'd come home and turned on ESPN.

  And there I was again, domesticating something that should be black and white.

  "That's generally how one greets someone," I followed up, trying to inject some nonchalance in my voice and failing miserably. I sounded bitter.

  "Someone?" she parroted back at me. “You sure know how to make a girl feel special."

  “I aim to please.” A weak laugh rattled my lips. Instead of loosening my tie, I pulled it tighter, like a noose.