Buying the Dancer (Alpha Billionaires Book 4)
Page 5
I assumed I wouldn’t be dancing again, but now that it’s been a few days, I miss everything about dance. It is engrained in me, part of me, and has been since I was a small girl. I can’t imagine never doing it again. The thought alone makes me want to cry right here in front of this entire restaurant.
WHITAKER
We leave the women to talk. I need to have a meeting with my friends. The offer my agent brought to me today is eating away. I need to have a decision for him by morning, but I’m not sure I want to put myself in the spotlight any more than I already am.
“What’s wrong with you? I thought you’d be happy as fuck. You finally got what you wanted,” Aldrich announces.
Lifting my hand, I scrub it down my face. I have a couple days’ worth of stubble, not wishing to waste time shaving, when I can be with Stassia. Not when my cock or face can be buried in her candy sweet cunt.
“I am happy,” I admit. “I had a meeting with my agent today,” I say.
“What did he want?” Sterling asks.
Letting out a sigh, I watch the clouds as they slowly blow by us. “Got an opportunity to star in a movie. They asked for me specifically,” I shrug.
“What movie?” Connery demands, his voice harsh, almost angry.
I chuckle. “It’s apparently supposed to be huge, a chance to do a series of at least four movies. A romance book that is some big fucking deal apparently,” I shrug.
“You don’t want to do it?” Aldrich asks.
Sighing, I shove my hands in my pockets. “I just got, Stassia. I need to focus on her, on us,” I explain.
Connery clears his throat, and we all face him. “It’s a good opportunity. Stassia isn’t going anywhere. She’s yours. Take her with you, work on building what you have together. Don’t throw away something that could be huge,” he murmurs.
“You want it, otherwise you would have just told them no,” Sterling says. I lift my gaze to his, nodding once.
I do want it. All my years of modeling, forced acting classes by my mother, I never thought I would want to act. Having this offered to me, it changes things. I want it, I want to at least try my hand.
“Talk to her, but I think you should try it out,” Aldrich smirks.
I nod. I’m not going to talk to Stassia. I already know she won’t like it. She’s not going to want to be thrust into the spotlight any more than she already is. And this, it will do exactly that. Fuck. She’s not going to be happy, but I need to do this.
CHAPTER TWELVE
STASSIA
Whitaker is quiet as we head back toward home. Home. I never thought I would think of his house as home, especially after only a couple of days, but I do. Well, at least the turret is home—my home. I want to go back, slip into the beautiful soft white and blue space that is all my own.
I should probably be offended that he doesn’t want me with him, and I was at first. Now? I kind of like having a place to call my own.
“You’re quiet,” Whitaker observes as the car eases onto the freeway.
I hum, glancing at the cars headlights behind us in the rearview mirror. They seem extremely close, which causes me to frown.
“They’re paparazzi. I’ll lose them,” Whitaker offers. My heart skips a beat at the thought of them following us, especially so closely. “Talk to me,” he demands nonchalantly, as if there isn’t someone following closely behind us.
“I liked your friends,” I offer as a way to appease him.
He snorts. “Yeah, but that’s not it.”
“There’s something you’re hiding. Are you going to tell me?”
He hums. “It seems we’re both hiding then, aren’t we?”
The car jerks to the side, taking the closest offramp. I keep my eye on the paparazzi behind us, until they’re unable to follow us any longer. Whitaker takes a few turns, and suddenly the car comes to a complete stop.
It’s pitch black around us, the clouds are even covering the stars. “Come here,” Whitaker demands.
I don’t pretend to play coy. I know he wants me to climb onto his lap and straddle his thighs. Kicking my shoes off, I do just that. My knees press into his seat, and I hope I’m not ruining the soft leather.
His hands immediately wrap around my upper thighs as soon as I’m in position. He shoves my dress up and I freeze, lifting my hands to hold onto his shoulders.
“Tell me, Stassia. You won’t keep things from me. I will not allow it,” he growls.
His fingertips dig into the cheeks of my ass and he pulls me against his lap. I can feel his hardening cock against my bare pussy and I whimper, wishing he would allow me to have panties. This is too much.
“I miss dancing,” I cry out.
Whitaker freezes, his eyes finding mine in the dark. The only glow we have is from the dash of the car. I wish I could see him better, but this is all we have. “That’s all?” he asks.
I nod, biting the corner of my lip. He smirks. “You can dance, for me.”
“For you?”
His smirk turns into a full-fledged smile. “Yeah,” he grunts lifting his hand to tuck some hair behind my ear. He moves his fingers to the back of my hair and grabs ahold of the strands. “I want to watch you. Slip on your pointe shoes, and dance naked for me. Just for me,” he rasps.
I suck in a breath at the pure eroticism of his words. “What about dancing in the company?” I chance asking on a whisper.
He shakes his head, his fingers tightening in my hair. “No, Stassi. I want my little girl dancing just for me. Nobody else. You’re mine now, all of you. I’m selfish, I don’t share and that means your body moving like only you move. That is all for me,” he explains.
“Whitaker,” I breathe.
He angles my head to the side, his lips slamming against mine. His tongue fills me when I open my mouth in surprise. The kiss is hot, wet and short. He nibbles my bottom lip breaking the moment.
His eyes meet mine and I hold my breath, waiting to hear what he has to say. Obviously, there’s something he’s hiding.
WHITAKER
I debate not telling her anything at all. In reality, I don’t have to. However, I’m demanding her to be transparent and I need to do the same. How can I order her to trust me and give me all of herself, when I don’t do the same?
“I was optioned for a lead in a four-movie series. I’ve been thinking about it all day and I’m going to take it,” I admit.
She stays silent. Her eyes search mine, and I see something unreadable cross her features. I wait her out, wishing I had taken my cock out so we could have this conversation in a bit different position.
It feels like a lifetime since I’ve been inside of her, I’ve never felt like this before. Never needed to be inside of a woman as badly as I need to be inside of her.
“Four movies. I didn’t realize you acted,” she whispers.
Moving one of my hands around to between her legs, I stroke her clit. Her breath hitches and her eyes widen. This conversation cannot be had without me touching her, or maybe any conversation between us can’t be without some kind of touch. I feel addicted to her body.
“I don’t. I’m trained, my mother made sure of it, but I preferred modeling,” I explain. “The casting director contacted my agent directly with the offer,” I explain. “Typically, I would turn it down. This feels different though, I think I need to do it.”
She gulps, then nods with a moan escaping her pretty pink lips. “Lift up a little,” I instruct. She does and I shift my hand around, sliding a finger inside of her while I press my palm against her clit.
“I’m scared for what this means,” she admits.
I move my finger, fucking her tight pussy, grinding my palm against her clit and enjoying the way she starts to pant. It’s sexy as hell.
“Look at me,” I demand. Her eyes find mine, at the same time her hips roll and move as she searches for her pleasure. “I will protect you. I will keep you with me, and you will not be left to the wolves, I swear it, Stassia.”
Stassia throws back her head, crying out with a sob as her pussy clenches around my finger, pulsing and attempting to suck it in. I watch, enjoying just how downright gorgeous she is when she comes.
Then I smirk, because I’m about to make her do it all over again, except this time with my cock inside of her instead of my finger.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
WHITAKER
I watch her sleep. She’s naked, the sheets tangled up in her legs, the sun just peeking into her room. Her porcelain skin is bared to me, for me. All of her is just for my eyes only and I can’t help but smile at the thought.
“You’re watching me,” she sighs.
She turns her head, her eyes looking up at me. I didn’t sleep next to her last night. As much as I wanted to hold her, after I made her come for a third time after dinner, I couldn’t.
There is something wrong with me.
The intimacy of sleeping with another person is too much at this point. I need to fucking trust her. I don’t. Not yet at least.
“I have to meet with my agent, sign some papers. Suzette will be by in a few hours with the dress designer for the premiere. You’ll be okay alone with her?” I ask.
She frowns pushing up from her position on the bed. My eyes glance down to her tits and I grin. Her nipples are still pink and swollen from my mouth feasting on them last night. I couldn’t help myself, I needed to taste and suck every goddamn square inch of her small tits.
“Yes, I like Suzette,” she says.
I lift my gaze from her tits, to her eyes, searching them with my own. I wonder why I want her again. How my cock aches for her, when it should be sore from so much use.
I hum, lifting my hand, I use my finger to trace around each of her nipples. “Whitaker,” she moans.
“Are you sore?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
Of course she is. Fuck, just a few days ago she was untouched. I haven’t been able to keep my hands off of her. I’ve never, not ever, needed someone as much as I need my Stassia.
She wraps her hand around my wrist as she shifts her body, widening her legs for me. She drags my hand down her body, until I’m cupping her warm pussy.
“You know that I am, but I still want you,” she practically purrs.
I grunt, my fingers gliding through her center. I want to stay home today, wrap myself around her. I want to trust her, start a real relationship with her. Not the owner/owned one we have right now. I want what my friends have, love, trust, companionship.
“Take a bath before Suzette arrives. Tonight we’re having my parents over for dinner,” I inform her.
I watch as her eyes widen, then her mouth drops open as her body freezes. “Whitaker,” she whimpers.
Shaking my head, I smirk. “Trust me, little girl, everything will be fine. I already have the cook putting together the menu. Maids are cleaning all day in preparation, and Suzette assures me that she has your wardrobe all taken care of.”
She nods, biting the corner of her lip. “Do your parents know, about how we came to be?” she asks.
My eyes meet her warry ones. “All they need to know is that we met, and I fell head-over-heels for you immediately. Tell them the truth about everything else, little one. Everything but your parents occupations.”
Stassia gulps then nods. Standing, I adjust my cock as I take a step back. “I’ll be home before they arrive. I don’t think I could stay away too long,” I wink before I turn around and walk out of her room. If I stay a second longer, I’ll fuck her again. Her pussy needs a bit more of a break before I do that.
STASSIA
“Margot’s dress for the premiere is gold, so you cannot do gold. Any other color is on the table for discussion,” Suzette announces to the man who is taking my measurements.
It’s as though I’m not even here, and honestly, I don’t mind it one bit. After Whitaker left, I took a quick shower and ate a little breakfast that was left for me on my small table. I’ve yet to leave my little castle, and honestly it’s been one of the most relaxing days, minus the anxiety about meeting Whitaker’s parents this evening.
“With her eyes, and that hair, along with her microscopic frame, you’re really challenging me here, Suzette,” he sighs.
Suzette only hums as she unpacks one of the four bags she brought up here earlier. There are a few more moments of silence while I wait to see what this man says.
“Green is the obvious choice, however, I’m not obvious,” he announces. Suzette snorts, but doesn’t respond. “I want the color of these sheets, ice blue. Thoughts?”
The room is bathed in silence and I glance up, wondering why nobody is talking only to discover that the designer is looking directly at me. “I love blue,” I admit keeping my voice soft.
He snorts. “Of course you do, honey.” A few minutes later he has all of my measurements written down, then sits at one of my chairs with his sketchpad.
Suzette ignores him and brings over a couple of dresses on hangers. “Whitaker will be happy, he suggested blue. Now, tonight, something sophisticated, yet casual,” she says.
Both dresses are cotton, like the one I wore to dinner the night before. One is dark purple, the other is a deep green. Neither are my favorite colors, but they both look comfortable. Reaching for the purple, I take it from her hand.
It’s a thick shouldered tank top with a scoop neck. The hem is a bit longer than the one I wore the night before, and it looks as though it will hit me right above the knee. It’s appropriate for meeting parents. However, I don’t have a bra or panties.
Leaning forward, I whisper. “Whitaker didn’t have you bring any underthings, did he?” I chance asking.
Suzette cringes, shaking her head. “He forbade it, Stassia. I’m sorry.” There’s no judgement in her eyes, no disgust, or anything like that and I wonder how she could be so unaffected. Maybe she knows everything already?
I sigh. “This is the one then.”
Honestly, I hope Whitaker keeps the temperature warm tonight, the last thing I need is for visible nipples poking through my dress, at the dinner table with his parents.
A few moments later, I’m left alone in my room. The designer is off to begin creating the gown, and Suzette waves a goodbye as she hustles out to get everything ready for this dinner.
Walking over to the window, I look down at the grassy grounds of the back part of the property. I should be the one getting everything ready for this dinner. It should be me, as Whitaker’s partner, woman, slave. Whatever I am, it should be me who does all of the domestic things, but he won’t let me.
I let out a heavy sigh, leaning my head against the side of the window. This can’t be my entire future. This can’t be the way he wants things. He has to want a woman who does more than just opens her legs for him.
Doesn’t he?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WHITAKER
“Fuck,” I hiss.
My mother is going to shit her goddamn pants when she gets a load of this. Hell, my agent is looking at me like he’s ready to strangle me. Suzette grabs the phone and groans.
“How could you do this? How could you be seen?” Bobby hisses.
I shrug, seemingly unaffected. I am though. I’m fucking devastated. Stassia is going to be so goddamn upset. Fuck. The trust I had, odds are it will be completely gone when she gets wind of this shit.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“I took every precaution,” I say.
Bobby holds up his hand, shaking his head. “This is just the beginning. You know they’re like dogs with bones. They will look harder, for more, and they will find it and expose everything,” he warns.
“Doesn’t matter, she’s mine. How much did they bid for this?”
Suze
tte makes a hissing sound, and Bobby clears his throat. “Doesn’t matter. All that matters is that this shit, is going viral in about six hours.”
Standing, I take the contract that was in my lap and slap it down on my agents desk. My attorney already went through it with a fine tooth comb. It’s signed and filming begins in just a few short weeks.
Now that this contract is signed, I should have the manuscript delivered to my home within the next few days. I focus on Bobby, then I give him my signature cocky smirk. “Great fucking publicity if nothing else,” I chuckle.
Suzette shakes her head. “I’ll get your publicist on it, immediately,” she states.
I watch as she lifts her phone to her ear as she stands. I watch her walk out of the room, then turn back to Bobby. His eyes are glued to Suzette’s ass, and I roll my eyes. Clearing my throat, I watch as Bobby jumps, then gather’s his papers.
“What skeletons does she have?” he asks.
Shoving my hand in my pocket, I smirk. “A whole goddamn basement full,” I chuckle.
Bobby groans. I lift my hand in a wave, turn and walk out of his office. This isn’t what I wanted, in fact, I didn’t want the paparazzi to ever see Stassia.
Unfortunately, that’s just not the way of the world.
I had high hopes that her first appearance at my mother’s premiere would be her unveiling, so to speak. Again, it’s unfortunate that the world is going to see her for the first time walking toward my car, wearing nothing but the little white lace nightie and high heels that I purchased her in.
Fuck.
She’s going to be so fucking pissed.
STASSIA