MyAlphaBillionaire New Adult Erotic RomanceARe

by Tawny Taylor

  “Okay, I admit, I’ve been a little busy lately. But we went out for dinner that one time--”

  “One time.” Jill lifted her right index finger. “Once. In how many weeks? You see my point? He’s taking over your life.” She opened her door and plopped into her seat.

  “He is not taking over my life,” I grumbled as I snapped myself into the seatbelt.

  “Good. I’m glad to hear you say that. I hope you mean it.” She shifted her car into gear and hit the gas. “I’ll take you home so you can put on something cute. We’ll hit the clubs.”

  “The clubs?” It had been a long time since I’d gone out with Jill, and it had been an even longer time since we’d gone to a bar. Because I had been neglecting Jill a little in recent weeks, I was glad to spend some time with her. But the thought of dealing with the crowd at her favorite haunts—particularly the leering guys—made me feel a little sick to my stomach. Maybe I could convince her to head somewhere a little tamer. Somewhere like…a nice restaurant.

  At home, I changed into an outfit that wouldn’t get me sexually molested if we did go to her fave club, switched my keys, phone and one debit card into my one and only designer handbag, a vintage Chanel bag my mother had kept wrapped in paper in her dresser, slipped my feet into my most comfortable nighttime shoes and teetered out to the living room.

  Jill took one look at me and twisted her face into an ugly scowl. “Are you kidding me?”

  “What’s the matter?” I checked my reflection in the mirror hanging next to my door. Okay, I wasn’t going to be winning any beauty pageants tonight, but I wasn’t interested in impressing anyone anyway. I was presentable.

  “What’s the matter? You look like you’re going to a funeral.”

  “What? I do not.” I checked my reflection again. Sure, I was wearing black. But a lot of women wore black at night. Black was always a safe choice. And my makeup and hair were both on the boring side. But, again, I didn’t care.

  Jill tossed an arm over my shoulder and not so gently steered me toward my bedroom. In there, she positioned me in front of the full length mirror in the corner of my room, the one I hadn’t checked before coming out.

  She was right. I did kind of look like I was going to a funeral. My black pants were more corporate daytime than let’s-party nighttime wear. And the jacket…yeah, it fit me great and was well made, but it was also outdated and a bit dowdy. The outfit even made my cool little purse look tired and old.

  “Okay,” I admitted, “this probably wasn’t the best choice in outfits.”

  “I think you’ve forgotten how to dress sexy. Let me help you.” Jill pushed open my closet doors, crossed her arms and tapped her chin. “Wow, you’ve bought a lot of new stuff, I see. It’s all really nice. Too nice for where we’re going tonight.” She pulled out one of the gowns Shane had given me. “Is this Marchesa? I know where to come when I have a formal event to dress for. But where are all your sexy clothes?”

  “Yes, it’s a Marchesa. Shane bought me all that stuff,” I informed her, hoping the fact that he’d spent a great deal of money on me might make her see he wasn’t all bad. “My old clothes are in the back.”

  “Yes, well, this new stuff is nice.” She pushed them to the left, out of her way. “Really, really nice. Wow. I see he even bought you a Valentino.” She held the precious little dress with lacy layered tulle over silk up to her body. “That’s some serious cash there.”

  “He likes to buy me nice things.”

  “That’s wonderful. But I still don’t trust him.” She returned the Valentino to its place in the closet.

  “Are you going to tell me what you found out about his wife?” I asked as I watched her root through the darkest corner of my closet for my old slutty bar wear.

  “No.” With her body halfway concealed behind clothes, she thrust one arm out, a tiny black, clingy dress draped over it. “Here, wear this. You always looked hot in this one.”

  I held it up to my body and nearly had a heart attack. I couldn’t wear it in public. It was absolutely indecent. “I’ve gained a few pounds. It isn’t going to fit.”

  “Gained? Where?” Stepping out of the closet, my friend gave me an up and down. “You haven’t gained any weight. Try it on.”

  I wadded up the garment she’d called a dress into a ball and shoved it into her hands. “I don’t want to wear this. I’ll find something else.” I pushed my way toward the back of my closet.

  “Why? Is it because of him? Does he tell you not to look sexy for other men?”

  I poked my head out to give my friend a don’t-go-there glare. “No, of course not. He wouldn’t ever tell me how to dress. I just don’t feel like chasing off a bunch of slobbering assholes tonight.”

  Jill sighed. “Fine. Wear something else. Just please nothing that might get you mistaken for my mother. Or a nun.” As I reached for a different dress, also black, but with a high neckline and fuller skirt, she added, “And nothing you would wear to church.”

  There went that one.

  Clearly this was going to take some time…and a little patience.

  Chapter 4

  “What a night. Just look at this place. Hotties everywhere. As far as the eye can see.”

  I wasn’t nearly as thrilled as my bestie. She saw one hot prospect after another. Me, I wasn’t looking, so all I saw was one horny guy looking for a hookup after another. Once upon a time some of the men might have turned my head. But not anymore. Shane was all the man I needed. He was the only one I wanted.

  I wasn’t just in love with him, I realized as I sat there, staring into my lukewarm diet cola. I loved him. Loved, as in wouldn’t ever want to hurt him. Loved, as in couldn’t imagine life without him.

  And he loved me too.

  He was scared. So was I.

  Loving him meant he had the power to devastate me. Loving him meant I willingly gave him that power.

  The last time we were together, he’d said something strange, “I can’t live like this.” I hadn’t stopped wondering what he meant by that. I hoped I would find out soon.

  “Come on. You can’t sit here all night, nursing that nasty diet cola by yourself. Come and dance with me.” Making sure I could not refuse her, Jill grabbed my hands and practically dragged me to my feet. She bounced through the crowd toward the dance floor, her sways and steps keeping time with the music pounding through the club. Me, I walked behind her, aware of every set of male eyes that landed upon me.

  Jill stopped at the outer edge of the dance floor and turned to face me as she started dancing. If she meant for me to stand out there, where I would be on full display, it wasn’t happening. I wriggled between her and another girl who was gyrating against a tall guy with full sleeves of tattoos, took a spot where I wouldn’t be so out in the open, and started moving to the music.

  While I wasn’t interested in gaining any man’s attention tonight, I did love to dance. It didn’t take long for the music’s deep base to throb through my body. I closed my eyes against the blinking glare of the dance lights and let the beat carry me away.

  I felt free. And sexy. And alive.

  “I’m glad to see you haven’t forgotten how to dance,” Jill shouted over the ear-splitting music.

  “Never.”

  One song blended into another, and then we were swaying and spinning to a faster dance tune. Before I’d started seeing Shane, dancing had been one of my favorite things to do. Instantly, I was swept up in the rhythm. Sweat trickled down my temples. The hair at my nape clung to my neck. And my heartbeat sped up, pounding hard and fast, almost in time with the beat.

  Wow, did this feel great. I’d almost forgotten how much fun it was to just let go and dance. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins, making me feel almost high. A new song started playing and my movements adjusted, picking up the faster tempo. My body temperature rose even higher.

  A guy stepped up behind Jill and started dancing next to her. She angled toward me, dancing while looking over her shoulder a
t him. I watched as the music thrummed on, their dance becoming more intimate with each passing beat. Before the end of the song he had an arm wrapped around her waist and he was holding her against him, their movements perfectly synchronized. The song ended, and the next started. A slower song. Jill twisted around to face her partner. I stepped around them, ready to head back to the table after a quick stop at the bar for something cold to drink.

  It took some side-stepping and lots of “excuse-mes” to get up to the bar. Wedging myself between two barstools with patrons sitting in them, I planted a foot on the brass footrest and waited for the bartender to notice me.

  Someone tapped me on the shoulder.

  Expecting Jill, I said, as I glanced over my shoulder, “Want something to drink?”

  “No thank you,” was the answer.

  That wasn’t Jill.

  The voice was too low. And it belonged to a male. A male I kind of recognized but couldn’t place.

  “Bristol?” the slightly familiar man asked.

  “Yes, that’s me,” I said as I turned to face him.

  “I thought I recognized you.” He extended a hand. “Russell Grant.”

  “Russell Grant,” I repeated as I tried (and failed) to remember how we knew each other. My gaze meandered over his face. Deep brown eyes. Olive skin. Dark, dark hair.

  “I suppose I should be disappointed that you don’t recognize me, but I can’t really blame you. It’s been a while since we met. And you probably weren’t paying much attention to me then. I was your mother’s physician. When she was in the hospital.”

  “Ah. That was a while ago. You have a good memory. Obviously, I don’t.”

  He rested a hand on the bar, his body angled toward mine. He was a nice looking man. His hair reminded me of Shane’s. It was wavy and thick, silky. He had a really great smile. He also smelled very nice. But wow, was he big. I didn’t remember him being so tall and…imposing before. “You’re not an easy woman to forget.”

  Oh gosh. He’s flirting with me.

  If there’d been any room, even an inch, I would have moved away from him. But I was wedged between two stools. He was crowding me from the front, and behind me was the bar. There was not even a fraction of an inch to spare.

  He waved to the bartender. “Are you here alone?”

  “No, I’m here with a friend.” Since I couldn’t put any more space between us, I turned my body toward the bar and spoke over my shoulder.

  “I see.” His gaze flicked around, no doubt searching for the friend.

  “She’s dancing,” I told him.

  “She is? Then she won’t mind if I buy you a drink?”

  “No, she wouldn’t mind, but I’m the designated driver. So no, thanks.”

  “Can’t I get you something cold at least? You look a little warm.”

  No doubt I did. Sweat was dribbling down the side of my face. I could just imagine what my makeup looked like. It was a wonder he’d recognized me at all, especially considering the number of people he probably met at the hospital on a daily basis. It was an even bigger mystery how he found me attractive. I grabbed a napkin off the bar and dabbed at my face. “I am warm—“

  “What can I get you?” the bartender asked.

  “Diet cola, please. Lots of ice.”

  An arm stretched across my side. In the hand was a twenty dollar bill. “I’ll take a Lambrucha,” Russell said as he handed the bill to the bartender.

  “Okay.” The bartender waved the bill. “I’ll get your change.”

  “Keep it,” Russell told him.

  “Thanks.” The grateful bartender filled a glass with ice, to the top.

  I twisted to smile over my shoulder at Russell while the bartender dispensed my cola and fetched a bottle of beer from the cooler. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” After reaching past me to grab his beer and my cola, he tipped his head to the side. “Want to go find a quiet table somewhere so we can talk?”

  “I…” I glanced at the dance floor. Jill was still doing the bump and grind with her new friend. She didn’t look too concerned about where I’d gone.

  That left me in a bad spot. Russell had bought me a drink. Granted, outside of a glass of water, it didn’t get much cheaper than a cola. Still, it would be rude to turn down his invitation. I just had to make sure to let him know I wasn’t interested in anything beyond a short getting-caught-up chat. “Sure,” I said.

  He looped his arm through mine. “It’s crowded. I don’t want to lose you again.” He pushed between two large men, his body like one of those big ice-busting boats, clearing a path through the thick, sweaty throng. He located a table not far from the entrance and, after setting down our drinks, pulled out a chair for me. Once I sat, he folded his thick frame into the chair across from me and smiled over the lip of his bottle. His eyes were sparkly. I knew what that look meant. “You look great, Bristol.”

  “Thanks.” I shifted nervously in my seat and stirred my cola. After my somewhat unpleasant experience not so long ago with an ex-boyfriend, I didn’t want to risk giving this guy the wrong impression. “I remember now. You were an…intern at the time. Right?”

  “I was a resident. I’ve finished up now, started a new practice with a friend of mine.” Staring at me, he pulled a good sized drink from his bottle.

  “Your own practice? You’re doing well.”

  “I’m doing okay.”

  Small talk. I needed to make small talk. That was safe. “My mother told me you were getting married.”

  “Oh, yeah. I got married. But we separated shortly after the honeymoon. Just waiting for the divorce to be finalized.”

  That explained the sparkles. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “It’s okay. Melanie and I shouldn’t have married. We were great friends, still are, but we weren’t good spouses. We didn’t expect the same things from marriage.” He waved his bottle. “Enough about me. What about you? Has some lucky man snatched you up yet?” His gaze went right to my left hand, which was resting on the table.

  “I’m not married. Yet,” I added. “But I am seeing someone.”

  “Ah, then I’m not too late.”

  I laughed to hide my unease. “Well, I don’t think my boyfriend would agree with that statement.”

  “If your relationship was rock solid, you wouldn’t be here, at a club, alone.”

  “I’m not alone. I came with a girlfriend.”

  “Yes, Jill.”

  “You remember Jill? You couldn’t have met her more than once or twice.”

  He jammed his fingers through his hair and cleared his throat. “Actually, I have a confession to make.”

  I was confused. “What confession?”

  “Jill and I share a common friend. We ran into each other last week, and I asked about you. She suggested I meet you here tonight. But she didn’t tell me you were in a relationship. She said you’d started dating someone but it wasn’t going anywhere.”

  I was confused no more. “That little brat. She said that, did she?”

  “You’re annoyed.”

  “Not with you.” I heaved a heavy sigh. I was going to have to sit down with Jill and find out what the heck she’d learned about Shane. Either she was going to tell me or she was going to stop poking her nose in my personal life. “You’re the second man she’s tried to set me up with recently.”

  He took another swallow of beer. “Why is she doing that?”

  “She doesn’t like my boyfriend.”

  “I see.” His gaze wandered for a second. Then he shook his head. “It’s too bad. It would’ve been nice to reconnect. Bad timing, I guess.” His attention diverted again. He was looking at something or someone behind me.

  I twisted in my seat. Blonde. Boobs. Short skirt. “Yes,” I agreed. “It’s just bad timing.”

  He stood, beer in hand. “Well, if anything changes, you can find me easily enough if you want to.” He offered a hand. “It’s good seeing you again, Bristol. Really.” />
  “It’s good seeing you again too, Russell.” I watched him shake his head, his mouth curled down in disappointment. I gave a little apologetic smile and wave. And, after chugging what was now warm, watered-down diet cola, I went in search of my meddling friend.

  She was going to get an earful. As soon as I found her. I pushed and wriggled my way through the mass of hot, sweaty bodies to the packed dance floor and scanned the crowd. There were dozens of women and men gyrating to the heavy, pounding beat. Too many. I couldn’t find Jill. I dance-walked across the dance floor, looking left and right, forward and back. At one point, a man grabbed my hand, twirled me around to face him and started doing a freaky dance move that would probably inspire nightmares tonight. I quickly moved along, checking every inch of the space before accepting the obvious.

  Jill had taken off somewhere.

  I checked our table as I dialed her number on my cell phone.

  “Where are you?” I yelled when I heard her answer.

  “I’m in the bathroom. Where are you?”

  “Looking for you. Be there in a few.”

  “M-kay.”

  I clicked off and click-clacked through a cluster of men, my gaze fixed on the rear exit leading to the bathrooms. I got as far as the doorway when yet another person grabbed my hand. Really, really tired of being pawed at and grabbed, I whirled around and yelled, “Hands off!”

  My gaze locked on a mouth. Then I saw the straight blade of a nose. And from there the chiseled angle of a cheekbone.

  “Who did you think I was?” Shane asked, expression like ice.

  Oh God, he was angry.

  Why? Because I was at a club? Because of what I’d said? Because he saw me having a drink with Russell?

  “Who? Nobody in particular. Just another drunk bastard looking to cop a feel,” I said as I fiddled with my purse strap.

  His expression darkened. “Are you sure about that?”

  What did he mean by that?