ROMANCE: Sleeping With The Sheikh (Billionaire Alpha Male Sheikh Romance) (New Adult Forbidden Series Short Stories)

by Knight, Kylie

  As was the rest of the unit, the bathroom was spotless. Name brand makeup products sat in a case with accompanying brushes, waiting for her to explore. Each one matched her skin color and complemented her eyes. The assistant, whoever she was, did astounding work. April was spoiled as she never had been before.

  When Byron returned home several hours later, she'd put her wardrobe to good use. A thorough shower in the most lavish bathroom she'd ever used had led her to redo her makeup in full using the new products. With care April styled her hair using the products she found, and then she slipped into her closet to select something new to wear. The possibilities were endless, but in the end she selected some form fitting black jeans and a pretty blouse. It was likely that Byron would take the bike out for another spin, and she wanted something that wouldn't blow back in the wind and have her moon the entire city.

  Hanging on the back of the closet door was a leather jacket, and April couldn't help but laugh. Of course there was a leather jacket. She rolled her eyes skywards and unhooked it, and when Byron came through the door after the day was over, he found April wearing it. She was sprawled out on the couch, watching a show on the giant television screen.

  "I'll take it by the way you're dressed that you've reconsidered the bike," Byron announced as he plopped down beside her. There was no finesse in how he moved; the rich were always prim and proper, so what was his deal? April looked him over, savoring his toned body, before she turned her eyes back to the television.

  "Not even."

  "Too bad. It was a tough day, and I need to let off some steam."

  "Some boyfriend you are. You need to be nice to me; I'm the one who's approving your pay check." As soon as she'd said the words, April realized how strange it was. Why was Byron working for the Witness Protection Program when he was already so rich? If he really was the CEO of a company, there was no way he needed a side source of income.

  Byron hitched an eyebrow, picking up on the discrepancy as she did.

  "Right. Well, tell you what. If you don't like the bike, you can stay up here in my luxurious flat and spend the evening locked up like a songbird in its cage. If you change your mind, you can join me and see what this city has to offer."

  With that said, Byron pushed himself up from the couch and started to wind towards the elevator.

  "So those are your choices. Take or leave my offer of going out tonight."

  April sat up and peeped over the back of the couch, watching him approach the elevator. Byron didn't take no for an answer, and while she had first found it frustrating, it was starting to grow on her. The same stubborn qualities her mother had accused her of possessing were reflected in him, and in him April met her match.

  "Well," he'd arrived at the elevator doors, which had opened, "good night, Tristan."

  "Wait!" April insisted. She sprang up and jogged to join him, pushing past the biker to enter into the elevator first. "I'm coming. I'm not going to waste an opportunity to see the city, not when I've been cooped up so long back home."

  "Good girl." Byron grinned as he stepped into the elevator after her. He was handsome brooding, but he was so much more breathtaking when he smiled. April felt butterflies, and she crossed her arms to try to distract herself. The leather pulled across her back, reminding her that this new life she was stepping into was one he had helped shape. The reminder did nothing to sooth the weightless feeling.

  The elevator took them to the second basement, and Byron selected a helmet from a cabinet inside the elevator building before he took her back to the chrome motorcycle they'd previously used.

  "Now that you've ridden once," he told her, "you'll be a pro this time around. But the helmet is still a must."

  April secured it as he got on, and with a bit more skill than before she sat behind him. Before she knew it they were pulling out of the garage and speeding up the ramp towards the main street with far more speed than she felt was safe. Byron didn't bat an eye; he was skilled, that much was obvious.

  They broke out onto the street and sped away. April looked over her shoulder to examine the building they'd left. The garage sat beside a skyscraper, most definitely commercial. And yet, Byron had a loft at the very top. Was this Dectyl Co?

  Unsure of where they were headed, April let her mind wander and her eyes take in the sights. A new city, a new man, a new life. Byron was a better version of Eric, more charming, more together, and marginally more polite. Certainly Byron was more attractive. Perhaps a little selfishly she wrapped her arms around him tighter, feeling his firm, toned chest and sides beneath his leather jacket. If they were supposed to be a couple in public it wasn't wrong to play it up and get a little touchy. So far, Byron hadn't cared.

  They left the commercial core and took to the urban center of the city. In the early evening people crowded the streets as they shopped and made their way to their destination. The streets were jammed, but Byron did not slow. He wove between cars like he owned the streets, eliciting honks and slamming breaks from other motorists. April had never felt more frightened, but she'd also never felt so alive. There was something about fear, and letting go of it, that reminded her that life was about more than just existing. Until now she'd been surviving, but with Byron she had already started to thrive.

  Panicked gasps as they darted through traffic turned to bursts of laughter, and soon April's cheeks burned with her mirth. The scent of leather and of his woodsy cologne mingled with the refreshing night air, and affection burned in her heart for him. Beyond seeing the city, this experience was one she would always treasure: pressed against Byron's tight back, watching lights and faces flash by, laughing deep. For as long as she lived, April was sure she'd remember this moment.

  The traffic died down, and they slowed. When they stopped and Byron dismounted, they stood before a sprawling park. A stone path ran through land occupied by towering trees, reminding April of Central Park. April took off her helmet and tucked it beneath her arm, grateful to have it off.

  "A taste of the outdoors in the middle of the city," Byron said with a casual shrug, as though the slice of paradise he'd brought her to within the thriving core of the city was no big deal. "Not a lot of people come here, so when I need some time to cool off, this is where I go. Thought it'd be nice to bring you to some place you can come to cool off before the rest of the city starts to boil beneath your skin. I know it gets the better of me more often than not, especially these days."

  April scrambled off of the bike after him, looking into the depth of the park. The trees weren't so dense that it was dark, but they were close enough together to offer privacy.

  "This is amazing," she exclaimed, near breathless. Without waiting for him to lead the way, she started down the stone path leading further into the park. "How far does it go?"

  "It's not all that deep, but when you get to the center the trees drown out the sounds of the traffic, and it's like you've left the city."

  Byron followed her, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. There was an easygoing way to how he walked and the posture he held that drew the eye, and when he surpassed her and took the lead, April couldn't help by appreciate it. Something about Byron was different than any other guy, beyond the riches and the attitude. There was something somber and guarded inside of him, and she wanted badly to know what secrets he held.

  At the very center of the park was a sitting area. The path swelled to accommodate a few picnic benches, and the other edges were speckled with benches. Byron plopped down upon one of them, arms spread across the top. April didn't wait for an invitation to join him, sitting at a respectful distance and placing her helmet next to her. Even still, Byron turned his head to look at her. His sharp dark eyes bore through her, and at first she thought she'd come too close, but then a smile softened his features.

  "You look good tonight," Byron told her. April felt heat rise to her cheeks, and she knew she was blushing. There was no snark in his words, and she was sure he meant them. "I guess I didn't do so bad mak
ing sure you had what you needed. If you need anything else, don't hesitate to ask."

  "Why are you doing this for me?" April asked at last. She'd already asked so many questions, but so many had gone unanswered. Byron was a mystery, and she wanted to find him out. If she didn't pry, she'd get nowhere. "You're not required to do any of this. We could have had my belongings shipped here; I know the Witness Protection Program can arrange that. You're treating me like a princess, and I don't understand why."

  For a long moment Byron did not answer, and April thought he never might. He turned his head away from her and looked up at the sky above. The stars twinkled against the rosy twilight, captivating. When he spoke again, his words were unguarded, and she heard pain in them.

  "I know what it's like," he said. Then the walls went back up, and Byron looked to her again. The same pompous, cocky man she'd met in the marshal's office had returned. "Besides, it's well within my right to spoil a beautiful woman if I want to. Don't tell me how to spend my billions, and I won't tell you how to stop complaining about my motorcycles. Deal?"

  Billions. Was he worth that much? April felt dizzy. To Byron, buying her a whole new wardrobe and accompanying cosmetics hit him no harder than buying a bag of chips hit her. The idea of that much money was hard to get her head around. Maybe he'd bought the entire loft just for her.

  "Yeah. Deal." It was hard to get the words out, and when they did emerge they felt clumsy. Byron found humor in it and shook his head, but when April followed up with her next question, the humor faded. "Do you really think I'm beautiful?"

  Not even Eric had called her beautiful, and he'd done just about everything in his power to sway her. Sometimes she'd been cute, sometimes she'd been pretty, but never was she beautiful, and Byron had said it with unmediated conviction.

  "I do." And then she was aware of how close he had come. She'd seated herself a respectable distance away, and as they had talked Byron had closed the distance between them. Now his arm was almost wrapped around her shoulder, his dominant presence shaping the sphere of the small world they shared in that instant. April looked up into his eyes, feeling her heart start to beat faster. "And I think you're even more beautiful in person than you are in your picture, Tristan."

  When had his face drawn so close to hers? April looked up into Byron's dark, brooding eyes and saw his sincerity and conviction in them; he meant what he said about her.

  "When I took on the job, I didn't expect to meet someone like you. Someone so vibrant, inside and out." He whispered now, the words a secret for only them to hear. April was caught up, heart singing and stomach weightless. As he drew closer, all she could think about were his firm lips and how they'd feel against her, and how the scratch of the stubble would feel against her soft skin. Maybe it was fast, but it felt right. Byron had been nicer to her than anyone else had ever been, and he'd made her feel things she'd been too afraid to feel.

  April was so caught up that she didn't notice someone else approaching until his voice burst their private bubble.

  "Excuse me," a tough, deep greeting. "Is that your bike out by the side of the road? It's illegally parked. I'm going to need you to move it."

  April jerked back from Byron to set her eyes on the police officer who'd come to find them. All at once she realized she hadn't been breathing, and she inhaled deeply to try to catch her breath and ground herself. Her pulse raced in her ear, heart in her throat. Had she really been about to kiss Byron?

  "Yeah," Byron replied. With one hand on the backrest he pushed himself up from the bench and approached the police officer. "Didn't see any signs telling me not to park it there. I'll move it. Thanks."

  "I need to make sure you follow through," the officer said stiffly. He jerked his jump back in the direction they came. "We'll go together."

  "Be right back, Tristan," Byron mumbled. He left with the cop to move his bike, leaving her alone beneath the night sky. As they left, April watched. The cop had extensive tattoos rising from his back and up his neck to his nape that peeped out from beneath his uniform, not visible from the front. The sun had set as she'd talked with Byron, and now the park was much darker. Stretching shadows moved in eerie ways as the wind rustled the leaves and branches above. April cast an uneasy look around and wrapped her arms around herself. How weird that the cop didn't just give him a ticket. How weird that he had visible tattoos. April wasn't up to date on cop dress code, but she felt it was unlikely that it was appropriate for a man in uniform.

  "Thought you could run from us?" An unfamiliar voice sneered from the shadows. April jerked her head in its direction, and to her horror she saw three men approaching from behind. One of the men had a tattoo she recognized across his neck — the brand of the Fullrunners, the gang she'd been sent states away to escape.

  "Oh my god," April gasped, stumbling up from the path and starting to run for the path Byron had headed down. She didn't get far before someone grabbed her by the wrist, his hold crushing. April cried out and tried to pull away, but the pain increased. It felt like he was going to break her wrist in half.

  "You don't get Eric and Ryan arrested and set the rest of us up for jail and just walk away, birdie," the man behind her hissed. He yanked her back against his chest as April screamed again. The two men with him laughed. "Getting your lover and your brother arrested is low. Family doesn't rat on family."

  Once more she screamed, desperate for help, but the man clamped his palm over her mouth. April bit down into it deep and without restraint, feeling his flesh part beneath her teeth. The man yelped and pushed her away, but before she could start running again, the roar of an engine burst through the park. Byron had appeared, on his bike, and skidded to a stop beside her. He didn't need to tell April to get on before she'd scrambled up behind him, and they'd ripped back down the path.

  The leather jacket he'd been wearing was absent, and April was able to see his exposed arms for the first time. They were covered in tattoos, some of them she recognized as gang affiliated, although they weren't tied to the Fullrunners. Soon she saw where the jacket had gone; not far down the path was the unconscious body of the police officer. The jacket had been dropped over his head. He’d tried to get a one up on Byron by impersonating an officer, but that hadn’t worked. She wished she could ask him what had happened, but there was no time to talk; Byron sped out of the park and down the street, not stopping for anything.

  It wasn't until they were back in the garage that he slowed. When the bike pulled into its spot and he parked, he did not dismount right away. Instead, Byron buried his head in his hands and yelled. April, startled, climbed off of the bike and started to back away. As she did, the sound ended. Byron snatched her by the wrist, yanked her forward, and looked into her eyes.

  "I'm going to get them," he promised her. "I'm going to get every single one of those bastards and make sure they're locked up for life."

  "I don't understand," April whispered. There were unshed tears in her eyes. They'd both rode back without a helmet, hers left on the bench in the park, and her hair was windswept and messy. "Are you in a gang, with those tattoos? And why are you taking on a job to protect me when you already have more than enough money? Tell me. Just tell me. You're the only one I can trust, and I know so little about you." She felt weak, but Byron looked as broken as she did. In that moment they shared sorrow.

  "My brother was the visionary," Byron murmured, "the one who build Dectyl Co. up from the ground while I messed up and joined a gang. And it wasn't until the higher ups in my gang extorted him and then killed him for non-compliance that I realized what I'd done. By then, it was too late. I saw every single one of them arrested, but it can never bring Liam back. And when I heard about your case, how you had your brother and boyfriend arrested when you found out about their gang involvement, I know you'd done what Liam should have done to me all those years ago. I knew I had to help protect you. And now here you are, and here I am after almost losing you and breaking the promise I made to you and Liam both."
<
br />   April's heart broke for him. A bad boy turned good. He'd turned his back on the darkness and risen to take over in his brother's stead, and beyond that, he kept working to make the world a safer place. Her lips parted just slightly, and Byron noticed. For a moment there was silence, their faces approaching each other, but before their lips could touch, April stopped.

  "I'm fine," she whispered to him. "It's not your fault. And we can work together to make this world safer to live in much better than you could alone."

  She could feel Byron's hot breath and could feel his heavy, masculine aura. One of his calloused hands rose and caught her jawline, and their lips met at long last. There, beneath the dull lights of the parking garage, they kissed. April had never experienced something as beautiful.

  When their lips parted, Byron spoke once more.

  "I never thought you'd be this beautiful, this inspiring. That dry sarcasm, your humor... I sent in the request to be your boyfriend because I figured it would be the easiest way to explain your sudden presence in my life, but now I can't help but feel that it was a sign. I want you, Tristan. I want to keep sharing and laughing and shooting the shit with you."

  Rough around the edges, and yet together. April felt like thousands of balloons rose beneath her feet to support her weight; her head was in the clouds, and her heart soared.

  "It's April Cosden," she whispered. "And my birthday is in July, not November."