Billion Dollar Bad Boy (Big City Billionaires #1)

by Nora Flite

  My curiosity burned brighter than ever.

  Clicking off the car engine, I gathered everything and entered my house. Again, I did a quick check, rushing to make sure no one was hiding inside. I almost skipped it, but old habits die hard.

  Making myself a cup of tea, I sat on the couch, looking between the two objects. Which should I open first, the letter or the box? They'd each give their own brand of answers.

  In the end, I was too eager for the intimacy that his written words gave me.

  Setting my mug down, I pried the envelope open carefully. Already, heat was swirling in my core, my heart punching against my ribs. This man had me wrapped around his little finger.

  The intoxication of a new message made me not even care.

  Pet,

  I'm sorry for making you wait. I wanted to give you a taste of what it would be like to live without me. For some time now, you've been accepting my gifts.

  Now it's my turn.

  I want my gift.

  I want you.

  Our game is ready for the next level—something far more personal.

  Something... intimate.

  Tomorrow night, I'll send someone to pick you up. Go with them. No questions, no backing out. I don't want this to end here, and I suspect you don't either.

  Enjoy the dress. I'm eager to see you in it.

  P.S. Wear the earrings.

  —S

  Opening the box, I unfolded the glossy, brilliantly silver gown. It had a lovely weight to it, split up one side and with a back that dipped daringly low. It was more beautiful than anything else I owned.

  Bending close, I caught of whiff of something. It wasn't the feminine perfume of a woman. This was a vague, but tantalizing scent of the mountains. It reminded me of a winding trail that weaved beneath ancient oak trees. As I inhaled again, goosebumps rippled over my flesh.

  Is that what he smells like?

  It was easy to imagine S packaging this dress up. His hands would be deft, folding the cloth as he took great care with the present meant only for me.

  For me.

  He'd called me his gift to him. He wants me to meet him tomorrow night? Lifting the letter, I read it again and again. Finally face to face. I'd get to lay eyes on the man who'd been seducing me from afar.

  Once, I would have debated longer. I'd have sat up and paced, trying to weigh the danger against the benefit of agreeing to see a stranger. I didn't know S, I only felt like I did. He could be anyone, or anything.

  I know what he is.

  Sensual.

  Wicked.

  Dominant.

  It was the most unlikely thing for me to hug that dress, and know in my heart what I'd decided. Against all odds, this man had changed me in such a short time.

  After weeks of letters and gifts, of playing this elusive game...

  I was finally going to meet S.

  - Chapter Six -

  Alexis

  The squeak of tires outside turned my anxiety up another notch. Cracking the blinds, I peered at what was waiting for me.

  The limo sat like a great panther, crouched in the shadows out on the street. One bite, and it would swallow me whole. The idea made me nauseous.

  I'd felt so sure about my decision to commit to this meeting, but faced with the moment... I was fraying on my edges.

  All I had to do was not open my door, not cross the sidewalk, and not climb into that limousine. If I sat right here in my unfairly magnificent dress and did nothing, everything would end. I was sure he'd refuse to give me another chance.

  I'd be free.

  It was so simple. But...

  I want to know who he is. That information was being dangled in front of me. After weeks of surprises and alluring letters, how could I possibly cut off contact now?

  Standing, I straightened my outfit and walked stiffly outside. When I appeared, the driver-side door of the vehicle opened. S had said he'd send someone, but I still froze, paranoid this stranger could actually be him.

  The man wore dark, starched clothing. Silver buttons cascaded down the front of his jacket. He was older, weathered and sporting a thick white beard. He tipped his hat to me. “Evening. I'm Jessop, ma'am. Mister S sent me to pick you up.”

  In my gut, I knew Jessop was exactly what he appeared to be—a chauffeur. That didn't smooth the wrinkles in my veins. Rocking in place, I clutched my purse.

  “Please,” he said, opening the door for me. “Climb inside. It's very cozy.”

  He isn't dangerous, I told myself firmly. I had no way to know that, I was just trusting my gut to keep me safe. Inching forward, I tried to match his easy smile. “Thanks. You can call me Alexis.”

  “As you wish.” He had friendly, but perceptive, eyes. I bet he could tell how anxious I was.

  Hell, anyone could.

  Once I was inside the limo, I sank into the soft cushions. Around me, everything was lit up by tiny, fairy-like lights. An open bottle of wine was waiting for me. S was a smart man; in this situation, who wouldn't need a drink?

  Like he'd heard my thoughts, Jessop said, “Help yourself to anything you see.”

  My fingers brushed the neck of the bottle. The name on the label was foreign to me. I'm sure it costs a fortune. But he left it here so I could have it.

  It was a blessing, I needed some liquid courage.

  Pouring the rich, ruby liquid into a glass, I looked towards the front of the limo. Jessop still had the divider lowered.

  “Comfortable?” he asked.

  Motioning around, I said, “Definitely. It's really nice in here.”

  He nodded in approval, guiding the limo down the street. I wanted to drill him for info, except I couldn't think of a subtle way to do it. Instead, I sipped the wine, the tart, fruity flavor spreading over my tongue like a warm sunrise.

  Settling deeper in my seat, I crossed my legs and tried to enjoy the silence. Through it all, I kept swinging my foot over my knee. Every few minutes, I'd adjust on the seat, fidgeting beyond control.

  Time melted into a meaningless lump. I didn't have a clue how long we'd been driving for, or where we were even headed. I'd finished the glass of wine, and was on a second, when the limo slowed down. “We're here,” Jessop said, cracking the divider.

  Squinting through the tinted glass, I saw he'd parked in front of a reddish glowing entrance. There were men outside, arms crossed to show off their muscles. Security guards, I realized. What is this place? A club?

  Jessop opened my door, letting the cool night air waft into the car. His gloved hand waited, body language making it obvious he expected me to step out. He wasn't being presumptuous; what else was I going to do after coming so far?

  Taking his hand, I put my shaking, heeled shoe onto the curb. The men by the door looked my way. Leaning towards Jessop, I whispered, “He's inside?” The driver gave a quick nod. “Where are we, exactly?” I could see no name on the brick building.

  “The Red and Ripe, one of his favorite places.” Nodding towards the doors, he ducked his head. “Go on inside, he's waiting for you.”

  Waiting for me.

  I hovered there, poised on that dark street that was crowded by old brick buildings and empty warehouses. I didn't know the area, but it had to be a shadier part of downtown. Was this really where I was supposed to meet S?

  Did you expect the Four Seasons? I mused to my own chagrin. Who cares where I am? Truthfully, I'd have met him at a greasy diner and been just as excited.

  Jessop waited, the guards waited, and I stood sandwiched between their stares. Clearing my throat, I strolled over the cracked ground towards the burly men. Their chins lifted, eyes looking me over more hungrily than I liked.

  I wasn't used to being ogled, and my arms crossed over the creamy skin of my chest that the dress had left exposed. “Hey there,” I said, my words a white puff in the cold air. “Mind if I go on inside?”

  They exchanged a quick look. “What's your name, honey?” one of them asked.

  My lips cri
nkled in a frown. “Alexis, it's Alexis. Not honey.”

  He snorted, glancing at a list in his hand. The other guard said nothing, but he kept leering. “Fine, Alexis. You're not on here.”

  “What?” I dropped my hands. “That's impossible.”

  They both rolled their eyes, like they heard this a lot. “No Alexis on here, doll. Get in your fancy car and—”

  “Pet,” I said quickly, my mouth faster than my brain. That's what he'd put down. “Check under Pet.”

  Running a fat finger down the chart, the balder of the two guys nodded. “In that case, looks like you can go in.” Standing aside, he gestured to the dark door set into the building. “Have a fun time.”

  Behind me, I heard tires rumbling; Jessop was pulling the limo out of view. If I wanted to back out now, I'd have a hell of a time.

  Standing taller, I stepped past the men with my jaw set in a line. Pushing through a thick and heavy red curtain, I was assaulted by the thrum of music. In its wake came the heat of bodies.

  People filled the space, the room rounded to match the curved ceiling. Drapery hung from dark wooden beams, and the lights along the walls kept up the constant crimson hue. The air was all cinnamon, making my skin tingle like I'd been rolling in gingerbread.

  The Red and Ripe looked nothing like the outside of the building.

  Stunned, I made myself move deeper. Around me, the customers talked or danced. I'd snuck into a few clubs when I was younger. The danger of getting caught had been thrilling. I was reminded of that feeling now.

  My buzz from the wine had evaporated. Smoothing my dress, I started to hurry towards the bar in the corner. I was burning with a need to stay busy, because standing still meant waiting.

  Fingers gripped my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. I wasn't ready to be touched, and on impulse, I started to yank away. “Excuse me!” I gasped, spinning to face my assailant. “Just who do you think...”

  And like that, my words vanished to mix with the music.

  The man who towered over me didn't move. Somehow, still, he had this air around him that spoke of being fluid—being fast. His hand grazed down mine, touching my fingertips and creating a burst of static.

  His eyes slid over me, coating my soul as they searched. They moved as patiently as honey down a spoon, shining the same shade. The red hue of the club lights turned his cropped, dark hair glossy.

  He'd chosen to wear a coal-colored shirt that bared his forearms. The tendons rippled, making the intricate tattoos slither and writhe obscenely. His jeans were a rich onyx, the jacket draped over one shoulder just as dark.

  The edge of his smile spoke to me. A private secret, a little smirk that said I know what you want from me.

  I'd never been so exposed in my life.

  Arching an eyebrow, he darted a hand forward. Before I could react, he stroked my earring. “I was right. They're beautiful on you.”

  Fireworks went off in my brain. I knew the truth. There was no doubt.

  This was S.

  Blood flooded every pore. I was tingling where he'd touched me, even after his hand fell to his side. This was really happening. The man that had been courting me secretly, tempting me with all sorts of intriguing gifts, was just inches away.

  I forgot how to form words—even sounds.

  “Did I break that pretty mouth of yours?” he asked.

  Flustered, I swallowed to wet my throat. I had so much I wanted to say. So many questions. Looking him in the eye, I whispered over the music, “It's really you.”

  He threw his head back, laughing earnestly. When he finally looked down at me again, there was an extra layer of depth in his vibrant stare. “Yes, it's really me.”

  “I didn't know what to expect,” I admitted, smiling shyly. “Every time I read your letters, I tried to imagine your face, or how you'd sound in person. I even thought you might be someone I knew, instead of a stranger.”

  The dimple of his smile moved upwards. “Stranger.” He tasted the word. “Since you didn't know what I looked like, what gave me away, Pet?”

  Pet. That fucking word. It was dripping with erotic, taboo promises. My shiver was full-bodied, it shook my toes in my high-heels. I didn't think people actually swooned in real life, but here I was, ready to collapse towards the floor.

  Shifting my weight, I adjusted my dress. “Who else would bring up my earrings like you did?”

  He glanced at them again, bending a hair closer to me. I could smell that familiar crisp, mountain scent. “You're right, I'm sure most people would be distracted by other parts of you first.”

  The spark originated in my chest continued between my thighs. I clenched my knees, the pressure too delicious.

  Peering off to the side, he saw something I didn't. “Come on. It's too crowded out here.” He took my elbow, his other hand grazing on the small of my back. It was an intimate touch for someone I'd just met. It should have felt wrong.

  With him, it felt beyond right.

  While there was an air of mystery surrounding him, he radiated protectiveness. Enough that I let him guide me through the throngs of dancers until we pulled up beside a curtained wall.

  A man was waiting there, his body bulging like it wanted to escape his black jeans and white button-down. He took one look at us, then wordlessly spread the curtain. S smiled, leading me into a tiny alcove.

  The space was just big enough for us and a table, everything glowing like the inside of a lit pumpkin. We were alone, the rest of the club washed away. How thick were the walls that they could mute so much of the noise?

  “Sit,” he said, gesturing as he released me.

  I missed his touch, wishing he'd just kept hold. Get some self control! Settling into the chair, he soon copied me, sitting on the opposite side.

  Weaving his fingers together, he set them on the hard surface of the table. The playful light in his eyes highlighted the beautiful angles of his jaw. I cared more about the substance of this man than what he might have looked like, but... I couldn't deny it.

  I was ecstatic—and amazed—by how handsome he was.

  The very air around him felt like it was breeding sex. If people could bottle his essence, they'd make a fortune.

  “Do I make you nervous?”

  His bluntness threw me off. “The situation makes me a little uneasy. I mean, I'm here because you've been sending me all these letters and gifts. People don't meet like this.”

  His head bent towards one side. “I meant, do I make you nervous, Pet.”

  A flutter rolled through me. I rocked in my chair, hands balling in my lap. But he must know my real name, if he had cupcakes sent to my work. How much did he know about me, and how?

  That led me to a new question, one that had been growing for some time. “What does the 'S' stand for?” I blurted, unable to hold back.

  Running a finger over his cheek, he gestured at my dress. “Take a guess. I've been leaving hints for you.”

  Blinking, I stroked the hem of my outfit. What does he mean? It was smooth, and it fit me wonderfully. Just wearing it was enough to get my heart going.

  Hints... What was the clue? He'd sent me so many things.

  Tilting my head, I tugged at my hair out of habit. In the process, I flicked the edge of my earring. In the crimson lights, my dress looked more maroon than silver, just like my earrings would. It didn't matter. I knew what he was trying to tell me.

  “Silver,” I breathed out, smacking my palms onto the tabletop in delight. Looking up, I found him watching me with hunger in his amber eyes. “It's Silver, isn't it?”

  Winking, he slid his palms over the table until he scooped my fingers up. He moved fast—trapping me. “I love how fucking clever you are. Yes, Silver. And you look gorgeous wearing my name.”

  Blushing along my throat, I rubbed my knees together. From the start, he'd been branding me. I hadn't even noticed.

  S had left his mark where the world could see.

  I didn't know how to feel about that. It was b
old, and kind of crazy, too. He was letting everyone know I was claimed.

  That I belonged to him.

  I became conscious of how ridiculous this was; a man sending me secret gifts and courting me from afar. Shivering, I pulled at my hands, but he just held tighter. Licking my lower lip, I met his intense eyes. “Silver can't be your real name.”

  Those eyes hardened like ancient glaciers. “To you, it is.”

  I controlled the tightening that slid between my ribs. His answer hurt, but clearly he wanted to keep his identity a secret. He must have a good reason for that. “Alright, so what should I call you? S, or Silver?”

  “Which do you prefer?”

  His hands were warm on mine, holding me down as easily as if he'd been clutching my jugular. But honestly, it was his stare that kept me planted where I was. Or, almost planted.

  I was shifting side to side with nervous energy.

  “I like Silver,” I said, blushing as I admitted it.

  He showed me his row of straight teeth. “Good. I happen to love hearing my name from your lips, almost as much as I love calling you Pet.”

  That made my pussy twitch. I crossed my ankles, I'd already crossed my thighs as tight as I could. Was it weird to feel so aroused by this man? I'm probably desperate from years of no action. That didn't sound right. So what had driven me here?

  “You look uncomfortable,” he said softly, sliding his fingers from mine.

  Closing my hands, I pulled them to my chest. They felt empty. “I am. I mean, how can I not be? I have so many questions about you—about all of this.”

  “Then ask away.”

  My jaw slid open. “What?”

  “Ask away.” He rolled his palm down his chest, taking my attention with it. “If you have questions, let me hear them.”

  I didn't hesitate. “Why me?”

  Grinning ear to ear, Silver looked me over. The twinkle in his eye had a million shards, a million ways to leave me guessing at his thoughts. “That's a very good question. And one I'm not ready to answer.”

  I scowled. “That's not fair.”