My First Love Affair (Bancroft Billionaire Brothers Book 3)

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My First Love Affair (Bancroft Billionaire Brothers Book 3) Page 6

by Ali Parker


  One hand dropped to the small of my back, the other going to my hip. He began moving. His slow dancing was completely out of place with the loud music filling the room. Once again, I had that feeling of everything else around us kind of fading away. It was he and I, actually touching. My heart started beating faster and I felt a little shaky.

  I didn’t know what was happening, but it wasn’t right. Aflutter. That was the word that sprang to mind. I felt twitchy and hot and like my skin was on too tight. We just stared at each other, barely moving. I got the feeling I wasn’t the only one feeling the heat. The dance floor had gotten way too hot. My stomach felt like there were a million butterflies in it. He had to be casting some kind of a spell on me. There was no other explanation for the visceral reaction my body was having at being so close to him. I didn’t feel drunk, but that could also be a cause.

  Chapter 9

  Mason

  I wondered if Adelaide had been kidnapped by a pod person. The woman laughing and actually enjoying herself while dancing with me couldn’t possibly be the same woman I had dinner with earlier. The woman in front of me was flirting, smiling, and acting like someone I would really like to be around. She hadn’t called me an asshole or a dick in several hours. I had asked her a couple times if she was drunk and she assured me she wasn’t. I only wanted to know for future reference when we were forced to spend time together. I’d get her drunk. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to be the easy fix.

  I smiled when she turned around, putting her butt against my thighs and rubbing against me. She turned to look over her shoulder at me, a smile on her face that was doing things to my body that it shouldn’t have. I didn’t want her to know she was turning me on. I didn’t want to give her that kind of power.

  I carefully pushed her away, turning her to face me while we danced, our bodies gyrating and moving like we’d done it a hundred times before. She was gorgeous. I don’t think I had ever really realized that in the past, but she was really, really sexy. I knew she was pretty, but her shitty attitude always made it impossible for me to see her beauty.

  I saw it now. Holy shit, did I see it now. She was like a spark, glowing in the darkness. Her face was so close to mine. I wanted to taste her. I could smell something spicy, knew it was a perfume, but the hint of beer is what made me smile. I had seen her drinking that beer, watched her throat working as she gulped it down. It had been the hottest thing I’d seen in a long time.

  “You need a break?” I asked her, noticing she looked more than a little flushed.

  The woman had been shaking her booty for a good two hours, drinking a beer now and then. She had to be getting tired and thirsty.

  “I’m good!” she shouted, a smile on her face.

  “After this song, I need a drink,” I told her.

  She nodded and stepped closer to me. I rolled my hips against her. The movement almost involuntary. My hand held her hip in place, her arms were up, and her head was back as we both lost ourselves in the moment. I blocked out everything else and focused on her and her tiny little body grinding against mine.

  A tap on my shoulder snapped me out of the trance she had put me in. I turned to see Dalton. “What’s up?”

  “Headed to the table,” he said, Deanna right behind him, a sparkle in her eyes as she grinned at me.

  Adelaide was still dancing, apparently oblivious to the conversation. When the music switched to a new song, she looked at me. “I need some air,” she shouted, fanning her face with her hands.

  I nodded and reached for her hand, leading her off the dance floor. We made our way through the lively crowd toward the door. “We need to step outside for a minute,” I told the guy at the door.

  He grabbed the stamp and slapped one on the top of our hands. We headed out and the fresh air immediately washed over us. I inhaled deeply, shaking my head a bit to get the air flowing over my neck.

  “Oh God, it feels good out here.” She moaned.

  I turned to look at her. She had her arms spread out to her sides and her head back. I laughed, watching as she did a slow turn.

  “Let’s get some water. There’s a convenience store at the corner,” I suggested.

  I expected her to immediately argue with me, tell me to fuck off or something like that. She didn’t. “Okay, that sounds good,” she said instead. “I need something other than beer or alcohol.”

  I smiled. “I agree. My blood is running a little thick,” I joked.

  She giggled, the sound light and airy. “Mine is probably more beer at this point. I’m going to be so dehydrated in the morning.”

  “We’ll get you all fixed up,” I assured her.

  We walked side by side in the dark night, lit with streetlights and the lights on the passing cars. Walking on the streets of New York at night was an experience I loved, but it wasn’t something I would have wanted Adelaide doing alone. I stuck close to her, keeping a watchful eye around us. I felt protective of her and would kick anyone’s ass if they dared get too close.

  The door chimed when we walked in. I headed straight for the refrigeration unit with every kind of bottled water imaginable. I grabbed two, handed one to her, and ordered her to drink. I quickly paid for both waters, once again expecting her to put up a fight. She didn’t. She dutiful drank the water.

  “Why don’t we have a seat for a minute,” I suggested, gesturing toward an empty bench outside the store.

  “Sounds good to me. My feet are going to be killing me tomorrow,” she murmured.

  “You’re a natural on the dance floor,” I told her, my mind already replaying some of the sexy moves.

  She giggled. “Thank you. I love to dance. It’s so freeing. Like nothing can be wrong in the world when you dance. I don’t know why I don’t do it more often. I always feel so good when I’m dancing and afterward, I feel free, light as a feather.”

  I smiled, checking out her profile and realizing she really was an exciting woman and not quite as stuffy as I had initially thought her to be. “I enjoy dancing myself.”

  She turned and looked at me, her eyes lighting up as she smiled. “I had no idea you were so good at it.”

  I shrugged a shoulder. “I had a good partner,” I said with a wink.

  She scoffed, slapping my thigh playfully. “Whatever. You were the one leading. You were a total pro.”

  “Thank you,” I told her, not wanting to miss the compliment.

  “Those women thought you were quite good as well,” she teased.

  I rolled my eyes. “Those women were not great dancers. All they wanted to do was rub themselves on me. I felt like a scratching post being mauled by several cats.”

  She threw her head back and laughed. “Honestly, that’s exactly what it looked like. It was a little awkward.”

  “I know, which is why I extricated myself from that situation,” I told her. “How are the tops of your feet?” I asked her, doing my best not to laugh.

  She looked down at her boots, then me. “What?”

  “I saw Twinkle Toes dancing all over your feet.”

  She burst into laughter. “Yeah, he was lucky he could even stand up. He was completely hammered, slurring his words and stumbling all over me. It was gross.”

  “I saw that.”

  “You had your own drunk felines. The woman who licked your face,” she said, shuddering with disgust.

  I cringed. “I don’t even know what that was about. It was weird.”

  “I would say so.”

  “I told her to keep her and her tongue far away from me,” I muttered.

  She took another drink of the water. I found myself staring at her mouth, her lips on the bottle. When she lowered it, she looked at me for several long beats. Now I knew I wasn’t crazy. She felt the sexual tension between us. I had been trying to tell myself it was all one-sided. It wasn’t. We stared at each other, her eyes dropping to my mouth before meeting mine again. I could kiss her. Right there on the bench outside a convenience store in the middle of the nig
ht. I knew I could kiss her, and she wouldn’t stop me.

  Just when I told myself to take one little taste of her pretty pink lips, she turned away, staring across the street, licking her lips. “I should probably get going. I have to get up early for work tomorrow.”

  I nodded. “I understand. It’s late,” I said, for lack of anything better to say.

  She made no move to get up. Neither did I. I didn’t know about her, but I didn’t want the night to end. When she wasn’t being a total bitch to me, she was a lot of fun to be around. I had actually enjoyed myself and sitting there with her was testing every ounce of self-control I had. I wanted to cover her mouth with my own. I wanted to taste that beer on her lips and rub my face against her neck and inhale that spicy perfume she was wearing.

  She’d probably kick my ass if I tried.

  “Want to share a cab?” I asked her quietly.

  “What about your bike?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “I can’t ride. Not for a few hours.”

  Her eyes bore into mine. “Are you drunk?” she asked the question almost as an accusation.

  I shook my head. “No, not drunk, but I make it a policy to never ride after drinking. I’m not drunk, but I’ve drank enough not to drive.”

  She nodded in understanding. “Good. That’s good.”

  “Are you drunk?” I asked her.

  She shook her head. “Not anymore. The dancing, the water, and being out here has killed the buzz.”

  I chuckled. “Bummer. Want to drink some more?”

  She grinned and gave a little shake of her head, her hair swaying around her shoulders. “No. Like I said, I have an early morning.”

  “All right, let’s get you a cab then. I’ll share it with you and make sure you get home safely,” I said, my voice husky.

  She was staring at me, like she didn’t trust me. She shouldn’t trust me. I was thinking about all the things I wanted to do to her body just then. It was only a little fantasy I allowed myself. I wouldn’t act on it. She was keeping her distance and I respected that.

  “Okay, I’d appreciate that. It can be a little sketchy riding alone this late at night,” she said quietly.

  I stood up and reached my hand out to pull her up. “We should probably tell Dalton and Deanna we’re leaving.”

  “Yes,” she said, breathing out the word. “I have to get my jacket and purse.”

  We walked back to the club, showed our hands at the door, and were reminded last call was coming. I saw Dalton and headed toward him while Adelaide went to the table where Deanna was sipping on another margarita. I watched them talk for a few minutes.

  “Hey, I’m out of here. I’m going to see Adelaide home,” I told Dalton.

  He raised his eyebrows. “You’re taking Addy home?” he asked, a little defensively.

  “Not like that. We’re sharing a cab, that’s it. I’m going home,” I assured him, knowing he looked out for her like a good big brother.

  “Okay, take care. I’ll give you a call tomorrow,” he said, slapping a hand on my back.

  I looked over and saw Adelaide coming my way. We didn’t say a word as we walked out of the club again. She waited quietly, something I was still trying to get used to, as I hailed a cab. Me leaving a club and sharing a cab with Adelaide Sinclair was about the very last thing I thought I would be doing when I rolled out of bed earlier. I hoped this newfound peaceful territory we found stuck. I liked being at peace with her. I’d miss the verbal back and forth, but I really liked hanging out with her when she was a normal human being.

  Chapter 10

  Adelaide

  The night had been amazing. I couldn’t have predicted I would end up in the back of a cab with Mason Bancroft, but I was so glad he was there. He provided a sense of safety that made me relax a little. The graveyard cabbies could be a little intimidating at times. It wasn’t any safer to get an Uber or Lyft. I looked in the rearview mirror and found the cab driver’s eyes on me again. It skeeved me out. The guy checking me out was made worse by the fact I had Mason with me. That’s when a girl knew she was dealing with a creepy creeper. Did the guy not see Mason? Seriously, he was huge and mean looking.

  When the cab finally stopped in front of my modest apartment building, I immediately got out, anxious to get away from the cabbie. Mason exited as well, telling the cab driver to hang out for a minute. I stopped on the sidewalk and looked up at him.

  “Thanks,” I said, feeling a little awkward.

  “For?”

  “For seeing me home,” I said, looking into his eyes.

  He was watching me too closely, making me squirm a little. “You’re welcome.”

  “I should go in,” I whispered.

  He nodded slowly, his gaze holding mine. “Yes.”

  I didn’t move. It was too much. I had been resisting the urge for hours. I could smell the scent of what I had finally decided was a musky combination of sandalwood and bergamot. I didn’t know if it was cologne or soap, but it was appealing to my olfactory sense in a way that made me want to act like one of those women and climb all over him.

  I didn’t climb him, but I did grab his shirt, fisted in my hands to use as leverage as I went up on my toes and gave him a kiss. I had meant it to be a quick kiss, just enough to satisfy my curiosity about those lips. I had to know if they were as soft as they looked. It was like being hit with a violent jolt of electricity the moment my lips touched his. I gasped, shocking the hell out of myself.

  His arms wrapped around my waist and yanked me hard against him. I stopped thinking at that point and let myself fall into the kiss. Just when I was really getting into it and ready to explore his mouth with my tongue, he jerked away. I stood there, a little dazed, and watched him lean inside the cab. My first thought was he was leaving me. I had made a fool out of myself and now he was going to leave me standing on the sidewalk like a fool.

  I watched him slam the back door and a second later the cab was pulling away and his arms were around my waist, jerking my body against his. “Where’s your apartment?” He growled.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat, desire making me feel hot and shaky. “Second floor,” I whispered.

  His mouth slammed over mine, his tongue pushing past my lips. I gasped, inhaling the scent of him and tasting him on my tongue. The combination of the senses short-circuited my brain. I heard myself moan, the sound vibrating against him. I realized a second too late I was rubbing myself against him, just like a damn cat.

  “Upstairs,” I said, stepping away from him before we ended up going at it on the sidewalk.

  He growled low in his throat, sounding a bit feral and reminding me of a lion. I shivered as I dashed toward the door, yanking it open and quickly leading him up the only flight of stairs and then down the hall to my apartment. My hands were shaking as I fumbled with my keys. He was behind me, his body pushing against mine as his mouth nuzzled my neck, making it impossible to think straight.

  I finally managed to slide the key in the lock, turning the handle and shoving the door open. We tumbled inside. The man was all hands. He slid them over my body, squeezing my ass as I moved inside. He kicked the door shut, a hard slam that signaled we were alone. Before I had a chance to make excuses for the mess, his hands were on my shirt, yanking it over my head and dropping it to the floor. His mouth slammed into mine again, his body pushing against me until I was at the wall.

  I felt the same way about him. I wanted him naked. I struggled to grab his shirt. His hands were cupping and squeezing my breasts, his mouth plundering mine with such gusto I could scarcely breathe. His hands dropped from my breasts before he pulled his mouth from mine and tugged off his shirt in one quick move.

  My hands fumbled with my own jeans, trying to unbutton them, watching him in the muted kitchen light that I always left on. He bent over, untying the laces of his black boots and then kicking them off before kissing me again. The powerful kiss made me forget all about what I was doing with my hands. I reached up to wrap
my arms around his neck, pulling him down lower so I could press my breasts against his bare chest.

  His hands dropped to my jeans, taking care of the button I had been struggling with. Then it was back to his own. He stripped out of his jeans while I watched, shimmying out of my own. I had hoped to stare at his beautiful body, but he had other plans. He reached out for me and pulled me close before hoisting me up. I straddled him, my legs going around his waist. I dropped my mouth to his, sucking on his lower lip before pushing my tongue inside his mouth, tasting him while rotating my hips against him.

  “Bedroom?” He grunted out the word.

  “Left,” I replied. There were only two other doors in my tiny apartment: bathroom and bedroom.

  He kicked open the bedroom door, my body still draped over his. He dropped me on my queen-size bed, and that was when I finally got my first real look at him. He was huge and the tattoos spanning his chest and down one arm were like an aphrodisiac. I couldn’t make them all out in the muted light coming through my blinds, but I could see some scrollwork on the underside of his biceps. His chest was broad, his arms big, but not super muscular. I could see the definition of muscles and had a brief thought about his workout regimen. I looked up at his face, the hard jawline covered in dark stubble and those eyes. My God, those eyes were intense. He was staring at me, as I sprawled out on my bed in only my panties and bra.

  His hand reached out, running over my flat stomach and then over my hip. His gaze was hot, making me shudder with desire. I was ready for him. The last two hours had been a delectable dance of desire and foreplay. My eyes dropped to his washboard abs, and lower yet to the bulge in the tight boxer briefs he was wearing. I chewed on my lower lip, realizing it wasn’t just the man’s body that was big.

  He moved his hand to the inside of my thigh, pushing my legs apart before cupping my center. I gasped, my body arching into his hand. His nostrils flared a few seconds before he reached out, pulling my panties over my hips and down my legs. I couldn’t breathe. As I watched him remove his own underwear, I experienced a very brief moment of apprehension about what we were about to do.

 

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