Billion Dollar Bad Boy (Big City Billionaires #1)(15)

“Then ask away.”

My jaw slid open. “What?”

“Ask away.” He rolled his palm down his chest, taking my attention with it. “If you have questions, let me hear them.”

I didn't hesitate. “Why me?”

Grinning ear to ear, Silver looked me over. The twinkle in his eye had a million shards, a million ways to leave me guessing at his thoughts. “That's a very good question. And one I'm not ready to answer.”

I scowled. “That's not fair.”

“No?” he asked, chuckling.

“You said I could ask questions, but you dodged the first one.”

“I said you could ask. I never said I'd answer.”

“So you won't tell me anything?”

“Try again, let's see.”

Drumming my fingers on my hips, I glanced side to side. “This club, Jessop said it was one of your favorites. Do you own it? Is that how you...” Make your money. I bit my tongue. I didn't want to sound like I cared about money; I didn't. But I was curious, and I couldn't deny wondering how he'd paid for everything he'd sent me, including a hired limo.

“The Red and Ripe doesn't belong to me.” Smiling, he eyed the room we sat in. “But it's a very interesting place.”

Interesting? No, you're what's interesting.

Something nudged me under the table. I realized what it had to be.

His shoe.

He glided the shiny tip along my bare ankle. When I glanced back up, ready to let fly another question or two, I simply froze.

Silver was watching me, yet all the humor was gone. His tight lips said he was holding something back, and the heat in his eyes screamed lust. Raw, honest lust.

I said, “Um, so, if you don't own this club, then...”

“You said you hadn't been here before, right?” He didn't let me answer, he pushed his chair back and stood. “Let me show you around. You can see what I like so much about it.”

Every question I have, he keeps dodging. I still knew nothing about this man. I was ready to feel furious. Amazingly, I obeyed him and stood. More amazingly, when he reached out to place his palm on my shoulder, I let him.

There was a moment where I trembled, languishing in the electric jolt that arose from our contact. I think he must have felt it, too, because he glanced down at me and hesitated.

We hovered there, the only sound between us was our own breathing. In the red glow, his eyes absorbed all light. They became black, richly dark like a fine coffee. I could drown in those eyes.

He flared his nostrils, filling his broad chest. On my shoulder, his fingers dug in. The fierceness turned my lower belly into whipped cream.

“You're dangerous,” he whispered.

“Me?” I smiled dubiously. “How am I—”

“Trust me, Pet. The things you're making me resist doing to you right now...” He breathed out. “I didn't think holding back would be so hard.”

My cheeks bloomed, my heart ticking in a circle. This man wasn't scared to tell me that he wanted me.

Breaking eye contact, he pushed me gently through the curtain. Instantly the thrum of music hit; I'd forgotten the rest of the world existed. His presence was constant, beating out the cloying sweat and drumbeat of the other club-goers.

Easily, he forced us through the bodies. I tried to pay attention, but my senses were working against me. My nerves itched to focus on him. His palm on my shoulder, his rough breathing by my ear... Silver was exactly what I thought he'd be.

The fraying rope that kept me from gripping his shoulders and begging him to put out the damn ache he'd been creating in me for weeks was near snapping. This was nothing like me—I didn't spend my time thinking about sex!

And now it's all I can think about with him.

“There,” he hushed, stopping us on the outskirts of the room. “Look.”

Following his lead, I stared across at the walls. I noticed the indents—much like the one we'd been inside, except there were no curtains on these.

In one of the concave rooms, I saw shapes writhing. My brain was slow, or I was denying what I was seeing. Either way, it didn't click immediately that these were people. Sweat glinted off of naked skin, the couple wrapped up in their own world.

They didn't care who watched.

The man was on his back, the woman riding him fiercer than a bull in a rodeo. Her breasts were being mauled in his palms, skin redder than the lights could have made them.

I... what...

Not once did either of them look at the crowd. She arched her spine, gripping his shoulders and moaning in sinful delight. In each of the rooms, a couple—or more—was doing the same thing.

They were all wantonly fucking in public.

Clutching at my dress, I pushed the wave of emotions down. Was this fear in my guts, or was I getting turned on?