Proposition: A Dark Billionaire Romance

by Angela Blake

  A pair of hands grabbed his shoulders and hoisted him up, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he looked into Lucas’s eyes.

  “Thanks, man.”

  “No problem, dude. Congrats on scoring that winning shot. Still maintain that you cheated in Zombies though.”

  “Dude you’ve got to let go of that.”

  Lucas brought his hand up to his chest. “Never. You’re going down, Scotland.”

  “I’m up for a challenge, Spain.”

  They were interrupted when a host of other guys came swarming in, grabbing David by the shoulders, clapping him on the back and yelling out their good wishes.

  David smiled as he looked around the room and quietly took it all in. The fans were all cheering and hugging each other considering it was on their turf, and the smell of salty popcorn, soda and victory hung in there.

  David’s mouth went up in a half smile as he stood there. He shook his head and made his way back towards the lockers figuring he could out for a night of drinks with the guys.

  He stepped into the locker room and was met with more hoots and hollers as he made his way towards the locker. He put the combination, and it swung open. He took out a change of clothes and slammed the locker door shut. He made his way towards the showers and stepped in underneath the hot shower head spray.

  It cascaded in waves down his body washing away the tension as well as the sweat. He allowed it to let his muscles loosen up as he washed his body then switched off the water.

  He needed to get lucky tonight.

  Chapter 3

  He stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, his red hair gleaming copper as it dripped water all over the white marble tiles. He made his way towards his locker and froze as he noticed a young woman standing there talking to one of his teammates.

  She was tall, not as tall as him, but not average tall with curly red hair that tumbled in waves down her back. She had a tiny waist, long legs, and from what he could tell, nice cleavage. He wished she would turn around, so he could ogle the rest of her body.

  As if she had somehow sensed his thoughts, she turned around, and he was struck by the depth of her sky gray eyes. Even though they were hidden behind a pair of glasses.

  Sexy librarian glasses.

  He frowned as he wondered why he suddenly felt as if he knew her. It was the niggling sensation in the back of his mind, and he couldn’t quite shake it off. He titled his head as he studied her thinking that if he could just put his mind to it, he’d be able to place her.

  Maybe he slept with her?

  No, that wasn’t. He wouldn’t be likely to forget a redhead with stunning gray eyes. She gave him a smile as she continued chatting with the teammate as he gestured towards David and nodded.

  He came towards them with a charming smile. That’s when he noticed the bag, notebook and pen in hand.

  She was a reporter.

  He didn’t really care for reporters, but anyone as fine as her deserved the time of day, so he leaned against his locker and casually crossed one leg over the other. He didn’t bother taking out his clothes because he wanted her to get a full view of what was in front of her before he began the slow primal dance of seduction.

  He could see that she was struggling to keep her eyes on his face and not stare at his defined six pack abs.

  “Hello,” she said with a slight lilt he couldn’t place. “I’m a reporter for the New York Times, and I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions Mr. Westley.”

  “Call me, David, please.”

  She gave him a confused smile as she clicked her pen. “First of all congratulations on the big win tonight. Your teammates were telling me it would not have been possible to win without you.”

  “It was teamwork,” he shrugged as he studied her lips. She flushed as she noticed his gaze and let her hair fall over her face.

  “Have you always wanted to be in the NBA?”

  “To be honest, I didn’t even know if it was possible for me up until a few months ago when I got transferred.”

  She jotted that down. “Where did you get transferred from?”

  “I played for this local team in Scotland. I doubt you’ll have heard of them. Anyway, I got lucky because there was a talent scout who was at one of the games, probably more out of boredom than anything else, but he saw me play and offered me a job. A few weeks later, I was on a first class plane to America.”

  She looked surprised for a second as her pen hovered over the notebook. She gazed up at him. “Did you say you’re from Scotland?”

  He nodded. “I did.”

  “Edinburgh?” she guessed as she pushed her glasses up her nose.

  “How’d you guess?” Surprise laced his tone as one corner of his mouth quirked up into an amused smile.

  “Your accent,” she pointed out. “Also, I’m from Inverness.”

  So that was the accent he had detected earlier. It made him homesick to hear his accent, and he wondered how he hadn’t seen it before. Anyone who is familiar with Scotland would know that the journalist in front of him is a pure Scots woman with her fiery red hair and freckles. He supposed it was considered by some to be a stereotype, but it was still true.

  “Aye, a fellow Scot, I see,” he titled his head in acknowledgement thinking that he was suddenly going to enjoy seducing her so much more. He could tell that she was shy, and a bit inexperienced around men who were forward, but he could easily overcome that.

  He knew exactly how to get under her skin.

  He gave her a pleasant smile as he gestured towards the notebook. “So what other questions do you have?”

  “What? Oh, right, yeah. Was it a big adjustment for you moving from Scotland to America?”

  “Well, it was at first. America is a far cry from Scotland, but I think I’m adjusting just fine. Everyone has been so warm and inviting.”

  He watched as she swallowed.

  So she had understood his dirty reference. Not so innocent after all. There was a dirty mind underneath that exterior, he could tell, and he wanted to unwrap it like one unwraps a Christmas gift.

  “It’s great that they were so accommodating, and were you worried about being the only Scot on the team?”

  “I’m not the only non-American on this team, so that definitely helped.”

  “I assume you’re referring your teammate Lucas Ramirez, the Spaniard?”

  “That’s right.”

  “So you two are close? Best mates you would say?” She chewed on her bottom lip as she jotted down notes in cursive handwriting.

  David watched her lips wondering how they’d feel on his, or how they’d feel nibbling on his ear. He’d bet she was a good kisser. He could see she gave whatever she was doing 100%, and he wondered if that translated to the bedroom as well.

  He was hoping he’d find out soon.

  “Yeah, best mates.” He grinned at the use of the term ‘mate’ but shrugged it off. He ran his hands through his hair causing little rivulets of water to cascade down his face and all the way down his chest.

  The redheaded journalist watched in silent fascination as the water trailed down his chest, drawing attention to the smooth hair on his stomach and disappearing behind the towel that barely covered his lower half because of his Scottish genes. Scottish men were usually big in size, so most men’s clothes didn’t do him very well, and towels were no exception.

  But that also meant he was well endowed in other places. Something the women he was with often commented on.

  “Like what you see?” he asked casually as he watched her freeze like a deer caught in the headlights. She flushed down to her roots, making her face turn a cute shade of red that David found strangely attractive. He wasn’t usually a fan of blushing since it always felt fake to him, but for some reason, on her it looked very sexy.

  She cleared her throat and gave him a weak smile. “Anyway,” she pointedly ignored his question as she straightened her back and attempted to look serious by pursing her
lips. “It says here your parents are half and half.”

  “On my mother’s side, she had a little bit of American and German blood, but my dad was a pure Scot.”

  “That explains your name. It’s purely American.”

  “My mother swore that if my dad named me Hamish or Fergus, she’d whack him over the head with a frying pan and never again let him into her bed.”

  A snort escaped her lips as she chuckled quietly to herself. “Your mum sounds like quite the character.”

  David scratched his chin thoughtfully as he smiled to himself over a private memory. “She is.”

  “They both still live in Scotland?”

  “Of course. They’ve got highlander blood in their veins which means Scotland will always call out to them.”

  The redhead dropped her pen, and as she bent over to pick it up, David got a glimpse of her breasts. She was wearing a lacy red bra with black trimmings, and he pictured flinging that bra off and burying himself in between her breasts.

  He felt himself harden, and he shifted so she wouldn’t notice.

  He didn’t want her to know just yet because if she did, it would just ruin the foreplay. He liked to take his time with women, but damn if the sight of her on her knees on the floor looking for the pen didn’t make him think of all sort of dirty things he wanted to do to her, and have her do to him.

  He saw the pen near his foot and tried to bend over to pick it up, but he knew that if he did, the towel would fall off, and he’d be left exposed. He normally wouldn’t mind, but he had a feeling if that happened now, she’d scurry off in fear.

  He had to get her to relax first.

  “It’s over here,” he said gruffly as he tried to think of other thoughts, non-sexual thoughts to get his hard on to be less prominent.

  She crawled towards him and grabbed the pen. When she looked up at him, she accidentally got a peek up his towel, and she turned a deep shade of red and hastened backwards.

  “Well, um, I, um,” she leapt to her feet and keep a few feet between them as she let her hair curtain her face. She pulled on the edge of her shirt to try to get her body temperature to go down. “Bit hot in here, isn’t it?”

  “Scorching,” he agreed mildly. She gave him a look that let him know she knew exactly what he was talking about.

  She wiped her palms on the edge of her pants and took off her glasses. She used the edge of her shirt to clean them, and when she looked back up, he was startled once again by the color of her eyes. He couldn’t decide if she looked sexier with or without the glasses.

  Chapter 4

  “What about family Mr. Westley, we spoke about your parents. Any siblings?”

  “It’s David,” he said in exasperation. “And I’ve got two. A brother, and a sister. My sister is younger, she’s a teacher back in Scotland, and my brother is a year older than I am, he works somewhere in the Middle East as an archaeologist.”

  “All three of you are as diverse as they get,” she commented as one hand toyed with a loose strand of hair. She twirled it around her finger. “A lot of our readers sent in this question, and sometimes we have to oblige and keep the masses happy, so you’ll forgive me if this question is too personal.” She grimaced and hesitated before she scrunched up her nose. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

  David gave her a half smile. “No girlfriend, no.”

  “Really? That’s surprising.” She tilted her head. “Boyfriend then?”

  David nearly choked on his own saliva as he guffawed and began slapping his leg. If she knew what was going through his brain right now, and pretty much every moment since she walked in, she would not have asked that question. “Not that there’s anything wrong with liking guys, but I really don’t. I like women, warm, soft, nice smelling, subtle, voluptuous, spry women.”

  “Why don’t you have a girlfriend then?”

  He took a step closer, so she was forced to take a step backwards till her back hit the lockers. She stared at him, lust and desire battling with confusion in her gray eyes. His mouth dropped to her lips. “I like to sample different flavors.”

  “Women aren’t ice cream, you know,” she pointed out.

  “True,” he agreed. “But they are so much better. Women are something you should really take your time exploring, each one of them is different, even if outwardly they look the same, but mannerisms and such, they’re very different. They even smell different.”

  He reached out to touch her shoulder, and he placed one hand there, slowly as light as a feather. He waited to see if she would push his hand off or shove him away, to let him know that she didn’t want him because he might be insanely attracted to her right now, but he would never force himself on a woman.

  She tensed for a minute before her muscles quivered and relaxed. She sighed deeply. “And you know all this because you’re a womanizer.” It was more of a statement than a question, but David frowned as he began to rub her shoulders slightly causing a ripple of goosebumps to break out across her collarbone.

  “Womanizer has such negative connotations; no I prefer the term well versed in women.”

  She laughed, a deep throaty chuckle. “That’s a rather long term that refers to the same thing.”

  David stopped rubbing her shoulders, and he could see the disappointment flicker in her eyes, but she tried to hide it by giving him a small smile. “It’s really not the same thing.”

  “Would you care to elaborate on that Mr. Westley?”

  He gave her a pleasant smile as his fingers went back to deftly massaging her shoulders. His finger inched its way underneath her shirt till it came into contact with her skin, and once again he waited to see if she would push him off.

  One again she didn’t. He made eye contact with her silently asking her if this was okay. She gave him a small imperceptible nod, where if not for her slight quiver he wouldn’t have been able to tell she was nervous at all.

  “Womanizers go through women like it’s a sale or something. I really don’t have a better way to describe it. They don’t appreciate the process, the subtle art of seduction, and they definitely don’t appreciate the wide array of women available, and how each and every one of them is different enough to be enjoyed separately.”

  “That sounds like utter bullshit,” she challenged.

  One eyebrow went up in amusement as a laugh escaped his lips. “Well, well, well look who has a fire within them. I knew it was lurking somewhere behind those sexy librarian glasses, and those intelligent gray eyes.”

  She straightened her spine as she tried not to react to his finger on her bra strap. “Mr. Westley, are you trying to seduce me?”

  David’s finger dipped over the swell of her breast causing her breath to hitch in her throat. “Trying would imply that there is a percentage of failure involved. I don’t try Ms.” David paused as he gave her a rueful smile. “I’m half naked, soon to be fully naked, and you will be too, so don’t you think it’s better we were acquainted with each other on a first name basis?”

  The redhead raised an eyebrow. “What on earth makes you think that I will be fully naked? Mr. Westley, I am a professional journalist.”

  “Of course, you are, I never meant to imply otherwise, but given that there is nobody else here, and it’s just you and me, and I want nothing more than to thrust into you so hard, you won’t be able to stand, don’t you think it would be a shame not to indulge?”

  Her face turned a crimson red as her mouth opened and closed like a fish gaping. David waited patiently for her to make up her mind as he held himself as still as a statue.

  “It’s Coira,” she said finally. “But I really don’t think we should.”

  “Coira.” The name rolled off his tongue, and it triggered something in his mind, but he pushed it to the back of his head. “Why do you think we shouldn’t?”

  “It’s called professional integrity. What kind of journalist would I be if I slept with the person I’m interviewing?”

  “You can easily separate
the two. I’m the person you happen to be interviewing yes, but I’m also the person you’re wildly attracted to, and I can tell that you want to jump my bones.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  He leaned closer and nuzzled her neck and began to kiss it gently causing her to lean into him and begin to take heavy breaths. He pressed his lips over her pressure point. “This is what makes me think that,” He murmured against her skin. “If you didn’t want me as badly as I want you or more than then your heart wouldn’t be racing a million miles a minute right now.”

  “I suppose so,” she conceded as she swallowed heavily.

  He lowered her shirt on the left side and began to kiss her collarbone as he lowered her bra strap.

  “It still doesn’t make it right,” she choked out, her voice tinged with barely concealed lust and desire.

  “Right and wrong is relative, don’t you think? Why should something that feels so good” His finger slipped inside her bra and flicked her nipple. She jerked at his touch, and he could smell her arousal making him instantly hard again.

  “Be wrong?” he finished as he lowered the other side of her shirt and the other bra strap.

  “I see your point,” she panted finally as she pressed herself closer to him. He kicked her legs open and stood between them letting his bugle press against her center.

  Her widened in surprise as she gazed at him from behind her glasses. He reached over and carefully removed her glasses and placed them in her bag. “Wouldn’t want those sexy glasses of yours to break.”

  “No, we definitely wouldn’t want that,” she agreed as he slipped her shirt off. He threw it somewhere in the room and paused to admire her creamy complexion. Her breasts were just as he imagined, better even, not too big and not too small, just the right size.

  He reached behind her back and undid the bra straps, so that her breasts sprang free. She blushed as her arms automatically went up to cover her breasts. He gently disentangled her hands. “Don’t do that. They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

  Coira gave him an amused smile. “Sure you aren’t just saying that to get me to give in faster?”