ALEXANDER: A Billionaire Romance (NIGHT OF THE KINGS SERIES Book 4)

by Shayne Ford

  The moment heats up as I smoothly start to hover over him and then slowly slide my knees on either side of him and straddle him.

  He doesn’t react in any way, only observes me with his narrowed eyes, his lips slightly curled into a small smile. My heart beats to fall out of my chest as I sensually start drawing circles with my hips, my crotch inches away from his lap.

  I try not to think about it.

  No, no.

  If I do it, this whole thing may collapse like a house of cards. I can’t possibly make sense of how within days I went from compiling reports for this man to dancing almost naked on his lap.

  He tilts his chin up to get a better view of me. I keep my eyes trained on him. Heat builds between us, the kind of tension and sparking electricity I’m not used to.

  My body feels like an overheated engine, my blood spearing through my veins like fire. I try not to think. Don’t think, Dahlia. That’s the key. And yet, it’s so hard to ignore it.

  It’s like dancing atop of a volcano that any moment can erupt and swallow me to turn me to ashes.

  It’s like dangling flesh in front of a lion who’s hungry for his lunch. It’s like riding a storm not knowing when it topples you over and sucks you in its spin.

  It’s all that and yet I keep dancing and brewing heat, the music not helping a bit. It’s the kind of music that puts imagines of love, silk sheets and a naked man on top of me in my head.

  It’s the kind of melodious sounds suggesting words of lust and love whispered in my ears, and tender fingers finding their way around my skin.

  Slowly but surely, I forget about my panic and my fear that I can blow my cover, and I become more comfortable in my skin as I get swept away by the new, amazing feeling growing in my body.

  It’s unfamiliar, yet so addictive.

  I’ve never been so hot.

  I lift my arms above my head, my hips swaying, humping the air. The more I do it, the more aroused I become. It doesn’t even matter that I don’t touch him. The sensation is almost physical as if I do.

  Impenetrable, he locks my gaze, silently preying on me, waiting for me to fall. As I begin to pick up speed, he drags his gaze down my body, slowly sweeping my chest and flat stomach before he openly stares at the apex of my thighs. Waves of heat slam into me, my reaction so intense it burns my insides.

  Tingles swirl between my thighs, a need building in my center.

  This will get me nowhere good.

  And yet I can’t stop.

  This whole dance routine as teasing as it is for him is supposed to keep the dancer cool, and yet I’m going down in flames.

  I don’t even realize that I slowly erase the safe space between us. When one of my moves makes my almost bare crotch brush his groin, I jerk back up.

  A smile tilts his lips.

  He slightly shifts in his seat and spreads his legs wider, and I take a not so wild guess here, that he’s packing a full erection, and trying to ease the tension.

  The thought makes me lose control for a moment. Without much thinking, I slide a hand onto his shoulder.

  He doesn’t seem to be surprised. Not at all. Which makes me think... This might be new to me but certainly not to him. How many times he must he have had the same routine done on his lap by another girl?

  I’m suddenly annoyed, and yet the next moment I’m even more driven, and here I am about to fall into my own trap.

  He straightens as I lose altitude again, and my hips trail his thighs. His arm no longer sits on the back of the couch, and my fingers start to migrate to his neck, soon touching his skin.

  I can’t believe I’m doing this, and yet I sure do. I slip my hand inside his shirt, my palm brushing the crook of his shoulder. His body warmth transfers to me, and enters my blood, spreading heat all over me.

  He waits a moment longer before I collapse onto his lap, still rolling my hips, fully brushing his hard on now.

  My sex catches on fire.

  The sensation rolls through me, taking me by surprise, drowning me in panic. My mind empties, the moment surreal as the pleasure starts building in my body.

  I can no longer control it, nor I want to. It’s so new to me and unexpected. It’s so intense.

  The more I rock my hips and feel his cock against my crotch, the hotter I get. I look down at him, a curtain of hair falling on my face, my grip on him, tense and filled with desperation, my nails sinking into his neck.

  Forget about not touching. I could bite a piece of him I’m so stirred up. It’s the dim light and the music, my almost naked body, and his erection pointing at my sex. Patiently, he watches me, waiting, sensing and feeding on my turmoil.

  My fingers get a mind of their own and start unbuttoning his shirt. Following suit, my body slides closer to him, waving against his hard torso. His eyes dip to my mouth as I slowly part my lips. There’s no smile on his face.

  I start kneading his chest no longer caring how wrong this is, and his arm closes around me. A gasp falls from my lips as I feel his tight embrace around me.

  I grind harder, and harder, getting wetter, and wetter, my breaths fast and shallow. Cuffing his neck with one hand I slide the other into his hair, breathing faster as I get lifted by the crest of pleasure.

  He stirs between my legs, hard and thick and long, his breaths heavy as well. He slides his hand down my back and cups my ass, pulling me into him.

  The thought alone that he’s doing this to me fires up my senses even more.

  He slips two fingers inside my bra, peels a cup off, and his mouth crashes onto my bare breast.

  “Oh...” my voice explodes in my throat in a moan I can’t suppress.

  Panic washes over me as I fear I might have clued him in, but nothing tells me so. He sucks on my nipple as I’m quickly scaling up.

  This is insane. My last thought instantly vaporizes as I wrap my arms around his neck, and press his mouth against my chest while I keep rubbing myself against his cock.

  It’s only a moment later when his palm brushes my naked butt, and he slips his fingers inside my G-string, touching my wet flesh between my legs, that it all comes to an end.

  The orgasm barrels through me, the sensation so intense, the throbbing feels almost painful. I hold onto him, breathing hard, melting in his arms, his erection iron hard against my burning flesh, and when it’s all done, I find the strength to tear away and run out of the room.

  14

  LEX

  What the fuck was that?

  My eyes stay glued to the door she vanished through for a few more moments more before I run my fingers through my hair, and sweep my erection.

  Fuck. It hurts.

  I really need to cool down.

  I slacken in my seat and let my breathing steady, still cupping my hard-on.

  Who is this fucking girl?

  She’s new–– I got that, but she’s also new to this. I’ve never seen anyone getting off so fast without that much touching.

  Her brain must’ve been fired up.

  My cock stirs in my pants as I sense her wet arousal on my fingers. Tension builds up in my balls. As if I needed it.

  Damn it.

  I sweep the glass off the side table and empty it in one big gulp. And then I text Ed.

  Me: Done? Where are you?

  His answer comes as I button my shirt up.

  Ed: I’m done now.

  I bet he’s smirking.

  Me: I’ll meet you outside.

  I collect my phone and car keys, shove them into my pocket, and then I check my pants and shirt, making a last adjustment to my bulge before I walk out the door.

  Mark Walters, the owner of Silver greets me on the hallway, his eyes flashing questions.

  “Everything okay?” he asks.

  I smile.

  “Yeah...”

  He searches my eyes for a moment.

  Mark and I go way back when Sexton and I used to come to Silver when we wanted a home away from home. Keen to provide high quality, discreet servi
ce, Mark Walters always makes sure we left his establishment satisfied.

  Tonight is no different.

  “I haven’t seen this girl before...” I mutter.

  “This is her first night.”

  “She’s good,” I say evenly, and his face lights up. “What days does she work on?”

  “For now, she’s here only on Fridays.”

  “Have her booked for me, next week.”

  That means no dancing in the front and no other clients.

  He nods, smiling.

  “You really liked her.”

  “I fucking did,” I say, as Ed exits a room not far from us, his face flushed.

  We shake hands with Mark, minutes later hopping into my car.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Home.”

  “It’s early,” he says just as my phone rings.

  I motion to Ed and take the call. James’ voice rolls in my ear.

  “How was it?” he asks, a smile threading through his voice.

  The funny thing is, it was his idea to have that girl dance for me in private. I hadn’t planned to spend extra time at Silver, not tonight of all nights.

  Sure, cutting a deal with the Livingston brothers gives me plenty of reasons to celebrate but dancers were not what I had in mind.

  I’m not gonna lie, she caught my eye. Tall and lean, perfectly curved in all the right places, that mane of hair making her look like a wild woman, and then those perfect lips so fucking tempting. Her mask intrigued me, enticing me even more. One of the brothers was clearly taken with her as well, but he eventually settled for his regular girl, and then James insisted on giving her a try.

  “You really want to know?” I ask, my voice hoarse.

  Ed smirks at my side, his laughter filling my ear.

  “I gotta give it to you Sexton. You didn’t lose your touch. She almost burned my groin, and now I’m blue up to my eyeballs.”

  They both laugh.

  “Going somewhere to cool off?” James asks.

  “I’m not even in the mood for that.”

  “She got you good.”

  “She fucking did.”

  “Where’s the kid?”

  I glance at Ed.

  “He’s here with me.”

  Ed gives me a thumbs up.

  “He’s all set,” I say.

  As if I had any doubt.

  “Are you at Red’s?”

  “I’m at the Dark House. You can stop by.”

  I shift my eyes back to Ed. He nods.

  “Okay.”

  Minutes later we enter his lake house.

  “I’ll be there in a moment,” James says, his voice coming from the bedroom.

  We stroll across the living room and walk on the patio.

  “What do you want to drink?” James asks us.

  “Same,” I say, and Ed flicks his hand up.

  “Me too,” he says.

  James brings a bottle of scotch, ice and three glasses at the table. He fixes our drinks and slides into a chair. He wears jeans and T-shirt. Flashes from the past come back to me as I glance at him. He slips a cigarette between his lips, flicks the lighter open and rolls the flame over the tip.

  He raises his glass.

  “To the Livingston deal,” he says, talking around his cigarette.

  He finally tears it away and blows the smoke out as we clink our glasses.

  We take a swig.

  “And to Lex’s blue balls,” he says, tossing his glass on the table.

  Ed breaks into laughter.

  “It’s not funny Preston.”

  “Oh, yeah. It fucking is. Nothing has done it for you lately, and now it hit you in the balls.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, grinning slyly behind my glass.

  James flicks his eyes to me.

  “How was she?”

  “Hot like fucking hell. She’s either double wired between her legs, or she hasn’t gotten cock in a long time, or I’m a fucking magician,” I say with self-deprecating humor. “And she can fucking dance. She may be a rookie, but her body moves flawlessly.”

  “She’s a trained dancer,” Ed says.

  “How the hell do you know?”

  He gives me a smug smile.

  “I have my sources,” he says, grinning.

  “Preston?” I say with a warning voice.

  James and I look at him.

  “What?” he says defensively. “I talked to my girl.”

  My chest rocks with laughter.

  “Your girl? You mean the one who sucked your dick tonight.”

  Crushing a chuckle, he waves me off.

  “He’s quite the slut lately,” I say, pointing at him with my glass, and looking at James.

  Ed starts to laugh.

  “Give me a fucking break, will you?”

  “He almost killed the financing of the Livingston deal with his wandering dick.”

  “I did not.”

  “Can you please retire him?” Ed says, looking at James who lets out a soft chuckle.

  “And who runs the business, then?” James asks.

  “I will,” Ed offers.

  “And who’s chatting on the phone, then?” I throw at him, and he scoffs at me. “He’s like a fucking eighteen-year-old,” I say.

  “Give me a break, Harrington. He’s like the father I never had,” he says, and we all chuckle.

  “How is that bad?” James asks, smiling amused.

  “It’s not, except he’s so uptight some times. Nothing can please him,” he mumbles before he empties half of his glass. “He just struck a multi-million dollar deal, and all he talks about is how I almost jeopardized the deal.”

  James shoots a glance at me, studying me from above the rim of his glass.

  “Okay. Fine. You shut up, Preston, and I’ll zip it,” I say.

  I look away at the lake and then up at the starry night. A few moments slip by.

  “It’s really nice this time of year,” I say with a softer voice, and look back at them.

  Silent, they look in the distance as well.

  DAHLIA

  It’s all a blur.

  Finding the backstage room, grabbing my clothes, throwing some of it on me and rushing down the stairs while calling a cab. Luckily, a car waits for me just as I cut around the corner.

  Minutes later, the phone rings.

  “I’m sorry,” I say before Tasha has a chance to say something.

  “Are you okay?” she asks, concerned.

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You ran out of that room.”

  “It was... nothing,” I mumble. “Nothing really happened. I finished dancing, and I rushed outside. That’s all. Am I fired?”

  Silence meets my answer.

  “Tasha?”

  “No, you’re not. The client was really happy with you.”

  “Was he?” I ask, my voice squeaking worse than the cab’s breaks.

  “Yeah,” she says leisurely, chewing on something. “He made a reservation for next Friday.”

  “What’s that?”

  “He wants you to be his, the whole evening.”

  “What...?”

  No voice comes out of my throat.

  “What?” I say again. “Am I gonna spend the whole evening with him?”

  “I don’t know what his plan is but when a client makes a reservation, he buys exclusivity, meaning you don’t work for anyone else. Not that evening anyway...”

  I stay quiet.

  “Are you on your way home?”

  “Yes,” I mumble, still thinking of what she just said.

  “So anyway, Mark was happy as well, except it was hard to explain to him what happened at the end. You got him worried for a moment. If anything changes, please let me know. It’s also my reputation at stake. I don’t want to get in hot water with my boss.”

  “Okay. I will,” I say with a calmer voice. />
  “Oh, by the way. I got your money. I don’t know about you, but Elsa alway wanted to get paid right away, so if you want to come to my place and pick it up tomorrow.

  “Okay.”

  “It’s, um.... Not bad for a half hour dancing,” she says, breaking up.

  “What is not bad?”

  “The time with him. He tipped you one grand.”

  “He did?!”

  My voice screeches again, and the cab driver shoots me a glance in the rearview mirror.

  “Okay, then. I’ll drop by tomorrow. I’ll bring Elsa with me as well. Maybe we’ll get brunch or something.”

  “Sounds cool,” she chirps, and we end the call.

  A few moments later, I’m home.

  Monday comes fast and with a lot of angst.

  Despite spending half of the weekend analyzing everything to death and the other half hiding my turmoil from Elsa, things are not a shred clearer in my mind.

  Quite the opposite.

  I question everything I feel and grapple with the idea that it’s too late. That I have already fallen for him. How else can I explain the way I felt that night?

  It’s hard to be honest and look at the things for what they are. And it’s even harder to go back to Friday night and attempt to understand what happened in that room.

  No man has ever made me feel that way, and he didn’t even do much. I blame it on myself mainly. On my lack of experience and the fact that I haven’t connected with a man in that way for a while. But the lack of experience doesn’t make you come the way I did. I’d argue, it does quite the opposite.

  So it must be him.

  The tension had been building between us for a while, and that perfect moment brought us close. That’s what made me explode. I’ve never experienced something like that before him, and I don’t know friends who have. All I’ve heard in college from my girlfriends was he didn’t do enough foreplay. Or it wasn’t good enough. Or they got spooked in the middle, and they never recovered.

  My own experience was supportive of all of that.

  So something must’ve changed with me, or me in connection with him.

  Regardless, he’s my boss. And now, seemingly, I have the same hot as hell boss at my second job, so to speak.

  It’s almost impossible to push back the memory of that night, and I’m still debating whether I should meet him this coming Friday, or not.