The Lesbian Billionaires Seduction

by K C Luck

  “What is it?” I murmur into her hair, and she shakes her head a little.

  “Someone’s been in my room.” Her confession sobers me instantly, and I am full alert again. As much as I hate to step back and break the contact of our bodies, I do it to look into her still frightened eyes.

  “I need to make sure they are gone. Will you wait in my room?”

  She nods. “Yes,” she agrees, but then pauses. The fear I see fades a little and is replaced by something I can't read. Then, she touches my forearm, and the heat of her touch burns my bare skin. I grit my teeth to keep from reacting. “Thank you,” she adds. “But, please be careful.”

  Nodding, I let her in. “Lock the door,” I say stepping into the hall.

  “I will,” she promises closing the door. Once she is safe, I go to the door of her suite and silently turn the handle to slip into her room. The scent of her light perfume lingers, and I grit my teeth to ignore it. Being distracted now could be deadly. Using stealthy, yet quick movements, I check the suite’s living room. Nothing. Next, the large bedroom. Nothing. Only the master bath remains, and taking a slow breath to prepare for anything, I rush in, weapon raised. Again, nothing. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see something which makes my blood run cold. On the giant mirror, in what I am guessing is Lila's own lipstick is a message written in large capital letters.

  HELLO LILA

  7

  Late to arrive, the birthday celebration is well underway, and I find the resort’s banquet room already filled with elegantly dressed people of all ages. My delay is caused by my long debrief on the phone with Zena. We discussed all the pros and cons of moving Lila to another location, but in the end, staying here seems the best option. The message was not a threat necessarily but definitely meant to upset her. The use of Lila, her billionaire’s club codename, made it clear the intruder knew she was part of the group. In my opinion, it had to be sent from Georgia DeLane. A bit overly dramatic, perhaps, but the words certainly got my attention. It left the question of moving Lila again or not. So far, aside from last night, the ski lodge proved safe.

  In the end, Zena and I decided to try a new tactic. If the intruder is still on the premises, I can take the threat straight on by us remaining at the lodge. This plan not to move again will please Lila too. Her frustration of ‘being on the run’, as she refers to her situation, is growing old. Not to mention keeping her from being effective in her many enterprises. This decision also means I must stay even more vigilant in guarding Lila, which includes keeping very clear personal boundaries. I am a professional soldier in the royal guard. Keeping my attraction under control should not be difficult.

  Of course, it doesn’t help that I am haunted by the lingering feel of Lila’s petite body pressed against mine last night. I wanted her, and the feeling has not diminished. In frustration and to clear my head before coming to this event, I made myself come in the shower to relieve the intensity of my desire. It didn’t help. As unbidden as the images were, as much as I tried to see Alma’s willing body in my mind, I only wanted Lila. The raw intensity of my desire for her after only just meeting yesterday continues to keep me off balance. Not that I haven’t found women immediately attractive before but never anything like this. If anyone ever revealed to me they felt something so profound, so quickly, I would shrug it off as impossibly romantic. Love, or at least lust, only hits like a thunderstrike in movies and romance novels. Or so I thought.

  Taking a deep breath, I know now is not the time to ponder the impossible, and I scan the room for Lila. There are at least fifty people here, drinking champagne or stronger, chatting in small groups, with some dancing. The lights are low but accented with strings of white bulbs and candles on the tables. Not an ideal situation for keeping an eye out for trouble, but Lila insists her predicament not be disruptive to other guests. “I will not be a diva, end of the conversation,” she insisted, and I smile a little at the memory of the exchange. Lila gently but firmly let me know she would not budge—the hint of a stubborn streak. As sweet-natured as she is, a person does not become a billionaire aristocrat by being a push-over. Just another reason I find her attractive. Puffing out a breath of frustration at the reality there is nothing about her I don't find amazing, I scan the room. As soon as I spot her, I know I am in trouble.

  Lila is stunning. Dressed in a sleek, smooth, black satin dress, which gives way to tiers of golden hues as it cascades down her body, I can't take my eyes off her. Her hair is pulled up, and a set of drop pearl earrings accent the contour of her elegant neck. Unconsciously licking my lips, I am captivated. Then, I realize she has been watching me standing in the doorway, and I feel the warmth of a blush on my cheeks. Her eyes twinkle, and clearly, she is happy I am there. I can’t help but wonder what she sees. The idea there is any mutual attraction is crazy, and yet, my instincts tell me there might be. This beautiful, worldly woman who could have anyone she wants, looking at me with a smile. A warmth spreads through my chest at the impossibility, and when she gives a subtle hook of a finger for me to approach, she stirs me on every level, which is the most frightening of all.

  Crossing the room to meet me, she takes two glasses of champagne from the server’s tray as he passes. This is not good. Drinking anything could be a huge mistake. Aside from wanting to stay alert, I sometimes make crazy choices when I drink. “Hello,” Lila says as I near her, and she holds out the flute of bubbling liquid. I raise my hand to refuse, but then reconsider. I hate to make things awkward by saying no. Sharing a few ounces of alcohol with her will do no harm.

  “Thank you,” I say as I take her offering. “But only one. I need to keep my wits about me.”

  She raises an eyebrow and leans closer so as not to be overheard, even with the music playing. “You can’t stand there looking like a tiger guarding its lair. If you are not enjoying yourself, someone will notice.” She is right. My cover as her assistant is still in place. Even after talking to law enforcement, she and I held to that story of who I am. Keeping my training a secret could possibly be our ace in the hole with Georgia DeLane.

  “If you insist, then I will enjoy myself,” I respond meaning to be playful, but somehow, with the closeness of her body to mine, they come out suggestive. A hint of a sultry look flickers in Lila’s eyes, and she lightly taps her glass to mine.

  “To enjoying ourselves,” she murmurs just loud enough for me to hear before raising the glass to her red lips and taking a small sip. For a moment, I am mesmerized by her mouth. The desire to kiss her comes over me as I watch something so simple, yet so sexy. The thrum of electricity between us has not dissipated. Clearing my throat, I drag my eyes back to hers and politely drink as well, loving the tingle of the champagne on my tongue. Our eyes hold over the rims of our glasses, and any doubt there is an attraction between us fades. She feels what I feel; I have no doubt.

  After a beat, she looks away as color flushes her cheeks, almost as if suddenly shy she made such a statement. Relieved she is no longer watching me for a moment, I breathe deeply to clear my head. I can’t act like this. My role is to protect her, nothing more. Thankfully, a couple joins us, friends of Lila's, and they strike up a conversation. I take the time to discreetly appraise the other attendees for anyone suspicious. Before I know it, the champagne in my glass is gone, and as I look for a place to set it down, the server is back, swapping it with me for another. “No,” I say. “Really—” but then he moves away, and I am left with more to drink. Fuck it. It's only champagne.

  Sipping it down far too easily, I continue my vigilance, and my eyes fall on the face of a woman watching me across the room. Considering her, I know immediately it is not Georgia, yet the intensity of her gaze makes me continue to look. She is statuesque, perhaps even as tall as I am, blonde, and very attractive in a low-cut, flowing, golden yellow dress. Although she stands in a small circle of others, she is clearly ignoring the conversation. Perhaps I am overthinking the situation, and she is simply a bit bored. Seeing my interest, she ti
lts her head invitingly, and I realize then I am sending the wrong signal. Yet, before I shake my head, Lila’s hand is on my forearm. “She likes you,” she says, and I glance to take in the look on her face. I can't quite read her expression. Amusement? Irritation? “You should go ask her to dance.”

  This catches me off guard. It is the last thing I want, and before I stop myself, I blurt out my response. “She is not who I want to dance with.” At this, Lila returns my gaze. Again, a moment passes between us, and unable to help myself, I continue. “I want to dance with you.” For another moment, she doesn't respond, and I realize I made a mistake. Whatever I am reading as attraction is most clearly not, and a wave of embarrassment washes over me. I have made an ass of myself and swiftly finish my champagne.

  As I watch, she finishes her drink in a long swallow too and moves to set it on the nearby cocktail table, before holding out a hand to me. “I’d like that.” Beyond surprised, but now in a position I don’t dare refuse, I follow her example of setting down the glass before taking her hand. Without a word, she leads me to the small, half-filled dance floor. A popular dance song is playing, and immediately, Lila sways to the beat. I dance as well while appreciating the way her hips move to the music, and the image of me grasping them while I pull her closer fills my mind. The desire to press my body against hers is intense, and I wonder if the champagne is affecting me. Only the fast music saves me from reaching out.

  Then, as if the universe wants to torture me, the music shifts to a slow song, and Lila slides closer putting her hands on my shoulders. As a shiver of hunger runs through me, I gently embrace her else I do something to embarrass both of us. Still, the feel of her in my arms is heaven. Nothing on earth could make me leave the dance floor now. The lyrics speak of longing for lost love, needing someone now, and I am captivated by all of it—the music, the feel of her under my hands, the scent of her hair as I lean in closer while knowing I shouldn’t. No doubt sensing my attraction, Lila lifts her face, and I feel her breath on my neck. This is too much, and a throb builds between my legs. If we keep going, I don't know that I can contain my desire for her. And I must. Pulling back a little, the answer is simple. I will politely finish this dance, and then perhaps excuse myself for the night. As much as I want to keep her safe, I think tonight I am the one she needs to be safe from.

  8

  Focusing on the music, on the lights, on anything but how good Lila feels in my arms, I am desperate to distract myself. It is not working. The tightness low on my body spreads until I can’t help but pull her tighter against me. A small gasp from her lips near my chin makes my heart race even faster, and I suddenly find it hard to breathe. This might be for the best as the scent of her perfume, so light, with a touch of something floral is only making the situation worse. The impulse to run my lips along her neck to relish the scent of her is so hard to resist, I feel myself physically shaking. My only hope is my subtle swaying movement to the music covers my agitation.

  “Jael,” I hear her whisper, the sound husky, her face so close I feel the heat of the word on my skin.

  “Lila,” is all I muster as a response fearing anything I might say right now would ruin this delicate moment. A moment that should not be happening, but I am powerless to end.

  “I can't…” she murmurs as her voice trails off. I furrow my brow at the slight change in her tone. Although she is still close enough to me, her body continues to brush against mine, there is a change.

  I pull back enough to look into her face. “Are you okay?”

  Her blue eyes regard me while she bites her lip before looking away. “I just can’t.” Before I ask what she means, the song changes to something faster. Clearly seeing a good time to get away from me when she has one, Lila steps back. I drop my hands, not sure what to do other than apologize for taking advantage of what was no doubt her simply being nice in agreeing to dance. I am such an idiot. Asking her was bold enough, but then I basically held her captive for the slow song. Someone as pleasant as Lila would never embarrass me publicly by storming off the dance floor, even when I acted so inappropriately.

  “Please, let me apologize—” I can’t even finish before she turns away and hurries toward the exit. God, I have been so offensive she is actually leaving the party. I want to slap myself for what I have done. “Don’t go.” She either doesn’t hear my last plea, or she ignores it and slips into the hall. Needing to fix this and then assure her I will resign in the morning, I follow, using my long strides to catch up to her at the elevator. The doors open as I arrive and when she steps aboard, then turns to me, I see a mix of emotions in her beautiful eyes. One of them is sadness, and a knife through my heart could not hurt me more.

  The doors start to slide shut, and the best thing will be to let her go, yet I cannot force myself to just stand there. At the last moment, I step on with her as the doors close and press the stop button to pause the car. Lila's eyes widen, but she does not step back. Now we are again face to face, with her chin lifted to look up at me. The urge to kiss her makes me swallow hard. “Please let me apologize,” I try again in a whisper, and she looks away with a shake of her head.

  “No,” she says. “Don't do that. I can't bear it.”

  I blink, confused. Her statement doesn't make sense to me. I open my mouth to ask what she means, but her eyes return to mine, and the regret in them makes me pause.

  “You don’t understand. I can’t get involved with anyone right now. I made an arrangement with the club that for a year…” She shakes her head in frustration. “Like probation for falling for Georgia’s tricks.”

  “I see.” There seems nothing else to say. I can read between the lines of her statement. Although she may feel some attraction to me, she won’t act on it. She can’t. I wish I could say I am relieved, because my desire for her is so unprofessional, but the reality there is no chance for us hits me like a blow. There is something about the woman I cannot seem to stop thinking about, and my attraction to her will not fade easily. If ever. Reaching for the elevator stop button to restart our ascent, I am surprised to feel her hand touch my shoulder.

  “Please don’t be angry with me,” she says, a hint of pleading in her voice, and suddenly I can’t stand holding back. The fact she thinks I might be even the slightest bit angry at her is too much. Without a word in response, I grasp her hand and pull her closer. The desire to kiss her clouds my thinking, but this may be my only chance, so I don’t stop myself. My mouth covers hers, wanting, demanding. Lila hesitates, but for only a second, and then returns it, slipping her arms around my neck to pull me in. A moan escapes my throat knowing she wants me, and as she opens her lips to invite me in, I use my tongue to take the kiss deeper. When she doesn't resist but instead returns my hunger with her own tongue, it lights me on fire. Lila is such a contradiction. So elegant, so delicate, and yet her kiss is more passionate than any I have ever felt. With a growl in my throat, wanting to consume her, the kiss is not enough.

  Using my hands on her hips, I press her back until she is against the wall of the elevator. Gasping into my mouth when I trap her body with mine, Lila runs her hands up into my hair, to kiss me harder. Unable to stop, I slide my hand up the satin fabric of her dress until I feel the hardness of her nipple beneath my palm even through the material. I brush my thumb over the sensitive tip and then pinch her gently. Arching her back into the contact, she breaks the kiss to let out a gasp. “Oh God, that feels so good. Please don’t stop,” she says while she slips the thin strap of her dress off her shoulder to reveal she wears nothing beneath. As I take in the sight of her naked breast and tight nipple, a throb starts between my legs. No fool, I don’t hesitate to replace my hand with my mouth and suck her in.

  The taste of her nipple under my lips, hard from needing me, almost makes me come. Every fantasy in the last twenty-four hours does not compare to the actual feel of her. When she presses herself harder into my mouth, the throbbing between my legs turns to an ache. I suck with more intensity and feel her
breathing hitch. Suddenly, all I want is to make this incredible woman come. While I continue to tease her nipple, I pull at the dress, lifting it until I can slip a hand under the hem. Her skin is hot, and my fingers burn making her moan with pleasure at the contact. “Touch me,” she whispers in my ear. “Feel how wet I am for you.”

  Suddenly, her words set a fire raging through me, and tasting her nipple is not enough. I pull my mouth away while sliding her dress higher until it is around her hips, only to realize she is naked under it. “Jesus,” I growl, and with ease, I lift her off the ground to slip my body between her legs. A cry of surprise and excitement escapes her throat, and then she is wrapping her legs tight around me. Grabbing her backside, I grind against her with so much intensity the fabric of my clothing slides over my clit. Her low moans let me know something similar is happening to her. Suddenly, we are in unison in what we want. She pushes against me while I thrust, using the wall against her back to add even more pressure. As much as I am taking her, she rides me hard in return, using her legs to hold me close. The feel of our bodies rubbing together makes our breath come quickly, and my clit starts to twitch. “Lila, God, I’m going to come,” I say, my voice shaking. “Do you want that?” A whimper is her response, and the sound is too much. I increase the speed of my movements and am rewarded when she starts to shake.