“I do too! I’m pretty awesome.”
I rolled my eyes and he laughed. Scooting closer to me, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and put his lips against my ear.
“I’m kidding,” he told me. “I have a crush on you, too. A major one. The kind that makes me stop coding a little earlier just to spend a little extra time getting ready to go to work to see you.”
“Really?” I let my hands fall into my lap and turned to him, his gorgeous face blurring with the bright, colorful lights of the club in my hazy vision.
He didn’t answer with words. Twisting my body around to press against his, he tipped my chin up with his fingers and took my mouth once more.
I melted in his arms, tasting the gin in his warm mouth, burrowing my fingers in his thick hair. His hands were on my waist, my thigh, running up my back, brushing over my breasts, cradling the back of my neck.
My pulse quickened, fluttering deep and heavily in my core, and I turned to drape my thighs over his.
Straddling the rectangular couch, I pushed my body against him, raking my fingers through his hair as he took a detailed tour of my curves. He jerked away from me a moment later, looking up into the bored and annoyed face of the massive, bald bouncer.
“Get decent, get a booth, or get out,” the bouncer drawled as if he’d said it a hundred times already that night.
“Sorry,” I said quickly, scooting away from Miles and tucking my legs underneath me.
“Yeah, man, no worries,” Miles said smoothly, shaking the bouncer’s hand. “We’ll tone it down.”
The bouncer nodded and lumbered away, leaving me shaking as my mortified heart thundered in my ears. Miles waited until the man was out of earshot, then raised a single, perfect eyebrow as he looked at me.
“You want to get out of here?”
“God, yes.”
We took a cab back to his place, getting increasingly frisky in the back seat while the cab driver turned the radio up a little more with every block. Miles threw the fare plus a generous tip at him and led me inside, unwilling to release me for even a second as he unlocked the door and we tumbled inside.
“Nice place,” I told him without even looking around.
“Thanks—let me give you the tour.”
His passionate kiss pushed me backwards until my knees hit the soft edge of a sofa, then followed me down as I found a horizontal plane to lay on. He pressed my thighs open to settle his hips between them, propping his elbows on either side of my head as he pushed my mouth open with his. I tilted my hips up to meet his enticing gyrations, the waves of my body synchronizing with his.
“So, this is the couch,” he said breathlessly as he pulled away to move his mouth to my neck.
“It’s a good couch,” I moaned. “I like the color; I really think it ties the room together.”
“I do love a woman with a good eye for design,” he murmured against my collar bone.
I chuckled, a sound which quickly dissolved into a moan as he pulled my scooped collar down to reveal the soft, milky tops of my breasts.
He kissed along them without missing an inch, caressing them with his hands as his mouth worked. I pressed hard against the bulge in his jeans, aching to feel its velvety smoothness inside of me. A minute later, we stripped each other of our shirts.
He had a good chest. The sort of chest I didn’t usually see on men our age; broad and muscular, dusted with just the right amount of hair. I raked my nails over it lightly, reveling in every sensation.
He pulled back, gazing down at my black-lace-clad breasts, groaning low in his throat as his fingers traced their contours. Brushing the pads of his thumbs over my erect nipples, he sent lightning bolts of pleasure shooting across my body, starting a fire deep in my core.
“You look even better than I imagined,” he whispered hoarsely.
“You imagined me like this?” I asked, the realization turning me on even more.
“Maybe,” he hedged, licking his lips. “God, you’re gorgeous.”
Reaching behind me, he unclasped my bra with a flick of his wrist, letting my breasts spill out against his chest. Sliding down my body, he took one aching breast into his mouth and fondled the other in his nimble hand.
Pleasure coursed over me, crisscrossing my body until it hit my deepest need in hot, pulsing waves. My hips rocked of their own accord, finding a rhythm which quickened my breath and ignited my blood.
A groan escaped his throat and he pulled my jeans off, leaving me naked except for my black panties. He stripped out of his own pants just as quickly, but didn’t return to his place on top of me. Instead, he pulled me off the couch and held me close.
“I believe I was giving you the tour,” he said, his voice thick with lust.
“Yes,” I gasped. “What comes after the couch?”
“You do,” he murmured, giving me the earnest version of that erotic smolder.
I moaned, melting into his embrace as he walked me backwards down a hallway. Plush carpet tickled my toes and the house grew dark around us, but those were the only outside details I took in. My focus was entirely on Miles, nearly naked against me, his sensual masculinity permeating my every sense. My calves hit a bed, and he lifted me up by my hips to toss me back on the mattress.
“I didn’t know you were so strong,” I murmured against his mouth as he fell to meet me on the bed.
“I didn’t know you were so soft,” he replied, running gentle hands over my curves.
Gentle hands quickly became demanding, almost rough in their desperation. Hot lips ran down my neck, over my breasts, pausing to suckle for a mind-bending moment before moving over my belly. A new kind of intoxication swirled through my body as he moved over me, down to my hips, breathing hot air against the thin cotton covering my wanton need.
He peeled my panties away slowly, kissing each new inch of exposed skin until he held my most sensitive spot between his lips. Swirling his tongue over it, he slipped his fingers inside me, pressing pleasure into me from both inside and out. Heat rocketed through my body and I arched against him, swept away by the sensations of his skilled and unfamiliar touch.
His desire pulsed through his lips to ignite me to my core. Waves of ecstasy rippled through me, intensity building with reckless abandon, quickly reaching a fever pitch between my hips. Release shook me like an earthquake, and I screamed his name into the dark. He was on me in moments, crushing my mouth with his, and I tasted my own pleasure on his tongue.
Sliding inside of me with the same intoxicating skill, he quickly moved us into a perfect rhythm. I arched to meet his thrusts, desperate for more—though I was full to capacity—craving every molecule of his being.
My hands in his hair, my teeth scraping his lips, my hips against his, I gave myself over to primal rapture. There was no room for tenderness in this dance, not now; he took me like a beast, slamming into my deepest recesses, jolting electricity through my spine with every thrust.
His growls mingled with my screams as he tossed my ankles over his shoulders and dove even deeper, forcing me to give, pushing me to my limits. My fingers curled into fists around bunches of bed sheets as fireworks exploded in my brain. His masculine scent filled my senses even as he filled my body. He was everywhere, everything, and I was lost to him.
Miles flipped me onto my belly without warning, then slid me to the edge of the bed. He entered me from behind, framing my rear with appreciative hands as he thrusted, grinding my pleasure button against the silky duvet. Sliding his hands up my body to my breasts, he lay over me, kissing my neck, biting my shoulder, caressing my breasts.
“You feel so damn good,” he groaned in my ear.
It was the feather that tipped the scale. Pleasure raked violently through me, each muscle tensing and releasing in a pulsing wave from the top of my head to the tips of my curling toes, locking him inside of me with powerful waves. His groan was nearly a scream as he railed me harder, faster, without a hint of the control he had previously shown.
His pulses pushed back against mine, sending me into another cascading orgasm, his shouts of release mingling with mine in an intoxicating cacophony of raw sexuality. Breathless kisses trickled over my shoulders and down my spine as the waves subsided. A final jolt of pleasure hit the base of my spine, making my head spin and my eyes go heavy.
Shakily, I crawled up onto the bed with Miles close behind. As the first gray light of dawn tinted the black sky, I fell fast asleep in his arms.
Chapter 3
Miles
The Pitch
There was nothing better than waking up next to a beautiful woman who smelled like sex and strawberries. Nothing, that is, except the chance to make a cool million in the space of an hour.
I took a moment to appreciate the picture she made on my bed as I dressed for my meeting. Her thick, strawberry-blond hair across my navy blue pillows, her perfect tan, those full lips pushed out in an innocent sleepy pout. She was gorgeous.
“Yep, Miles, looks like the gods are finally smiling down on you,” I told myself as I straightened my tie in the mirror.
I blew her a kiss and hurried out. Luck wasn’t patient, and neither was Nate. He had already texted me twice, and the meeting wasn’t supposed to begin for another thirty minutes. Regardless, I told him I was on my way and hurried to the address the investor had given me.
Nate was already in the parking lot when I pulled up, flipping his keys around his finger, his eyebrows lowered behind his reflective sunglasses.
“Frowning already? Cheer up, man; we’re invincible today.”
I bounced across the parking lot, trying and failing to rein in my wildly elevated mood. I couldn’t seem to keep the grin off my face, and even though I’d been awake way longer than I should have been, I had never felt more energized and alert.
“What got into you?” Nate asked, then slid his glasses down his nose to peer at me with his piercing dark eyes. “Or, should I say, who did you get into?”
“Yes,” I answered cryptically. “Doesn’t matter who. She’s perfect, this day is perfect, and this meeting is going to go perfectly. It’s a perfect storm of perfection, Nate. Get on board!”
“I don’t know if hyper-active Labrador is really the impression we’re going for,” Nate said, raising a brow as he pushed his glasses back up his nose. “Better off being cool. Aloof. Real Silicone Valley material, catch my drift?”
“Dude, all those guys geek out just as hard over their stuff. Trust me, I got this.”
Nate shrugged, but let it go.
Still, I could feel his eyes on me as we made our way through reception and up the elevator to the office on the top floor. The higher we went, the more lavish the floor on the other side of the glass doors appeared. By the time we reached the top, the walls were practically gilded.
Nate didn’t seem to notice, but he wouldn’t. He came from old money. This was standard for him—like a department store break room for those of us who have had to work in one. Or shop in one, for that matter.
I managed not to gawk. My confidence was leaps and bounds ahead of my self-consciousness, and I made a mental note to express my gratitude to Shelley later. I now understood why soldiers used to make a point of getting laid before going into battle; something about it just made a guy feel like a god. This morning, I would be unstoppable.
We were ushered into the boardroom, where the investor I had already talked to stood with two other suits.
“Nate! Miles! Good to see you boys again. These are my partners, Natalie Eisenhower and Frederick Jones.”
Hands were shaken all around.
“Thank you again for meeting with us, Mr. Dalio,” Nate said, putting on an air of humility I didn’t know he was capable of.
“Call me George. Would you like anything before we begin? Coffee? Water? If not, the floor is yours.”
I expected to be quaking with nerves, but I found that I was just excited. Nate and I set up our presentation as the investors grabbed their coffees and arranged themselves at the far side of the table. Each had a notepad in front of them and a look of casual interest on their faces. I locked eyes with Nate as we put the final touches on our setup.
“You ready for this?” I asked him.
“I was born ready.”
He literally was, so I couldn’t really blame him for the cheesiness. I turned to our investors.
“Imagine, if you can, that you are a business owner in one of the poorest countries in the world. This business owner—we’ll call him Joe—pulls in maybe fifteen thousand a year for himself; barely a living in the United States, right?
“Now, let’s say that you’re an average mid-grade worker in the U.S.—we’ll call you Paul, and you make twice what the other guy makes in a year. Paul wants to make a little extra passive income in his downtime, and he has a little bit of money to invest. Joe has a brilliant idea to double his profits, but doesn’t have the startup money.”
I was gesticulating as I spoke, and I could feel the excitement building with every word. Nate was sticking to his cool-guy persona, smiling mildly at me as I went on my rant.
“So, the way things are right now, these two have little to no chance of ever meeting or helping each other out. This app changes all that. There are very few micro-investing services on the market right now, and the ones that are there offer very little control to either party. It’s practically a grab-bag scenario out there right now. This app allows business owners to input everything that makes their business unique, from their experience and plan details to ethical and moral concerns.”
“Studies have shown,” Nate interjected, “that the vast majority of people entering the workforce right now are more concerned with the ethics of a business than they ever have been before. People would rather be out of work than work for a company they find morally reprehensible, and those same people would rather spend a little more money on ‘good’ businesses than spend their money on companies who represent ideas they find distasteful.
“These people will be doing the majority of the micro-investing on this app, and they will want to know who they are funding; not just from a business perspective, but from a personal one.”
“Exactly,” I said. “Which is why this app—in addition to giving a platform to business owners and investors—also gives a platform to their friends, associates, and employees. It’s like a social media network for the business world.”
“There’s already one of those on the market,” George interrupted. “And frankly, it isn’t doing so well. It built up slowly, and is now where resumes and professional profiles go to die. What makes yours different?”
“Ah! That’s exactly what makes ours different. The investment pitch and social profile are two separate components of the same account. An investor can put in the criteria for a project that he or she is interested in, search, and pull up a bunch of opportunities. Once they find one that interests them, they can then click on the poster’s profile, where they will find not only their social media interactions, but a reputation score. This app allows anybody with a real life connection to the poster to rate them on a user-friendly scale. Better reputations get higher rankings on searches, emphasizing the ethical focus of the project.”
“Who will use it?” Ms. Eisenhower asked.
“Literally anybody. The app itself will be free with upgrades available for a small fee, and a small percentage will be taken off of any completed business deal. Money is moved right through the app with the click of a button. This thing makes investing so easy that anyone who has ever used social media could use it effectively. This app makes it possible for anybody with five extra dollars to make someone else’s dream come true, and make a profit at the same time.”
Their interest was piqued. I launched into an overview of the technical specifics, and the outcome of the thousands of simulations I had run. Nate took over afterwards, discussing the marketing side of things. The more we talked, the more interested the investors looked; the more interested they looke
d, the more excited I got.
By the time we’d wrapped up our presentation, I was practically bouncing with pent-up energy. I could see that this was going well, and I was dying to know how much they were going to invest and how soon we could get the ball rolling. I was mere breaths away from my dream becoming reality. I could taste it.
“Well I must say, that was a very interesting presentation,” George said, nodding his head. “Very interesting indeed. Would you two mind stepping out for a moment so my colleagues and I can deliberate in private?”
We respectfully made ourselves scarce. I paced the hall while Nate leaned up against the wall. To the untrained eye, he looked utterly relaxed, even bored. But I saw the tension at the corners of his hooded eyes and the little fold at the corner of his mouth which told me he was just as anxious as I was.
“How do you think we did?” I asked him.
“I don’t know, man. I told you to tone it down. You were like a puppy ready to piddle in there. When you hit some of those techy points, you were talking so fast I was afraid they would think we were trying to hide something.”
“I could always go over those points again. Maybe I should do that now.”
“You open that door before they call us in and I swear to God I will end you.”
“Okay, okay.” I pushed a hand through my hair and sighed. “I wasn’t that bad, was I? If they weren’t interested at all, they wouldn’t be discussing it for this long, would they?
“Maybe they’re just toying with us.”
“That’s ridiculous; they wouldn’t…would they?”
“Mr. Lane, Mr. Dunn, the investors will see you now.” The receptionist’s voice came over a speaker, startling me.
I straightened my suit and took a deep, steadying breath.
“Moment of truth,” I said.
“Let’s see if your app is worth anything,” he answered.
We pushed back into the boardroom, practically vibrating with anticipation. The investors were all smiles, and I thought I might actually vomit. The nerves had finally hit. I was just glad they had waited until after the presentation.
Accidental Triplets - A Secret Babies for the Billionaire Romance (San Bravado Billionaires' Club Book 4) Page 18