Billionaire Bad Boys of Romance 2(61)

“Come on, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you. Now, close your eyes.”

Obeying him, I was shrouded in his scent, his breath, his touch. I reflected on this shift in power. Being dominated by a man was something new for me—uncharted territory. As I drifted off, I had to admit I was more than enjoying it. I loved it. And I loved him. Only one question weighed on my heart: Did he love me?



The restaurant Jaime took me to was an intimate neighborhood bistro, walking distance from the hotel. With its candlelit, red-checkered tablecloth tables and funky outsider art on the walls, it was definitely not the kind of restaurant where you’d find Victor Holden. Chances were he was holding court with his business associate and some hired high-priced female escorts at some posh club on the Right Bank.

We sat side by side like true Parisians along a red leather banquet. His thigh brushed against mine and our shoulders touched. When he turned to speak or look at me, his warmth breath grazed my flesh. He smelled delicious and looked as sexy as sin. He was clad in all black—elegantly tailored, belted wool slacks and a form-fitting cashmere sweater that clung to his prominent biceps and showed off broad, chiseled chest. Mr. Fucking Continental! I was wearing my blue chiffon dress, the one I’d worn when we went to dinner in New York with matching blue lace lingerie. Jaime had insisted I wear it along with my hair down; the least I could do was oblige. It was a small concession but nonetheless piqued my curiosity.

“Why this outfit?” I asked after a sip of the expensive Côtes du Rhône white wine he’d ordered.

“Because, Ms. Long, it makes you very surprise-worthy.”

A shiver zigzagged down my spine. He still hadn’t given me a clue into the surprise he had planned. Though I was sure it had to with lifting up the skirt of my dress and doing some very naughty things. My core tingled at the thought of the possibilities.

While the meal in front of me, a delicate poisson au beurre, looked delectable, I had a hard time eating it when I knew this gorgeous man was totally eye-fucking me. His denim blue eyes burnt into mine. Wetness rushed to my core, and my cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

He smirked at me, knowing damn well he was affecting me. I kept waiting for him to make a move. The surprise. My gaze drank in his searing eyes and that sexy, slightly parted mouth that was longing for a taste of me. My body was crackling all over with anticipation. Seated so intimately close to each other, a kiss was just inches away. And that was just for starters.

I finally managed a bite of my fish. It was delicious. Jaime watched as I savored the flavorful, buttery fillet.

“So how did you learn to fuck, Gloria?” he asked before I could swallow.

I almost gagged. I was certainly not prepared for that conversation game changer.

Genetics. My mother was a crack whore.

“I’ve been around,” I managed after regaining my composure and feeling assured I wouldn’t regurgitate my food. We turned at once to face each other.

He cocked a brow. “What does that mean?”

“I fucked a lot of guys when I moved to LA.”

“Anyone serious?”

“No just a bunch of fucks.” Heartless fucks—none of which had ever given me an orgasm. Even a mild one. It was a just stupid phase I went through to keep my mind off the heinous crime I’d committed back East. My secret. Once Gloria’s Secret took off, I had little time or interest in any kind of sexual relationship.

“What about that PR guy of yours?”

“You mean, Kevin?”

“Yeah. He’s very good-looking, and seems like he’s really into you.”

“He happens to be my best friend. He also happens to be gay.” And he’s fucking your assistant Ray.

A wry smile flickered on his face. “Good. That’s what I thought. I don’t want to share you with anyone.” He sipped his wine. “And what about that boyfriend you were visiting in New York?”

My eyes widened. I thought he’d seen right through my pathetic white lie, but maybe he’d given it second thought. Score one for me.

I took a long slug of wine to keep him in suspense.

He tugged at my hair. His face tensed. “Well…”

Okay, enough torture. “You don’t have to worry about him.”

“Good. You know, I’m very possessive. I’ll knock his teeth out and make it so he’ll never be able to put his mouth to yours ever.”

“You won’t have to,” I reassured him, both intimidated and turned on by his violent, jealous streak. After another morsel of fish, I asked, “And what about you, Mr. Zander? It’s only fair that I get some more insight into your social life.”