Gambling For The Virgin:A Dark Billionaire Romance(12)

We take opposite sides of the stage and dance toward each other.

And I'm really enjoying the rush of moving my body with a freedom I  didn't know I could. I feel light as air, and everything seems almost  natural to me. I had no idea that I could move the way I am. I can see  in Margot's eyes as we dance closer together, she's surprised too.

When we dance across the stage to each other we both go back to back,  dancing up and down in surprising synchronicity for two people making  this up on the fly. "We are so doing this again!" she says where only I  can hear.

"Totally!" I agree with her. I'm on top of the world with the level of  exhilaration, and we both turn back and tear off our flimsy tops.

That's when I get a good look at the audience, and I can't believe how far my excitement drops.

The instant I see Gian, my heart plummets to my stomach and I yelp a little. But I keep dancing.

The man he's with is dressed in leather and dark jeans. He looks strange  next to Gian, who's always wearing an immaculate expensive suit. I can  tell by Gian's face that he's not thrilled with what he's seeing, which  now that I've already thrown off my top, is actually quite a bit. I'm  spilling out of this bra in a way that I thought I'd be nervous about.  Now, the only thing making me nervous is that I'm so bare in front of so  many people while Gian's eyes are blazing with what I know is not  happiness.

The man with him smacks him against the arm but Gian looks like if he  was holding a glass, it would break in his hands. When the song ends, I  go backstage and I'm not surprised when Gian is back there in a few  seconds.

"What the hell are you doing? What are you wearing? Or not wearing," he says, throwing my shirt at me.

I felt timid and upset before, my stomach uneasy, but when he tosses the shirt, I feel something else entirely.

"I was having a good time with a friend, wearing things that you  actually bought me or had Margot buy me. I thought I was a free woman  and you didn't own me? I didn't even leave your palace, your highness,  so what's the problem?" I'm shocked by my own words, but I mean them.         

     



 

I mean them because I realize that I felt so much better about myself to  look so good and have others think I did. It's stupid, perhaps, but the  whole reason I went to Margot and wanted the makeover I got was because  I wanted to look hot enough to be on Gian's arm. "I can't believe  you're mad that I'm actually looking the part of someone that you'd  sleep with. You've probably slept with everyone who dances here," I say,  and I know that Gian has hinted that he doesn't actually sleep around  like his reputation says, but how do I really know that? I mean, I don't  know whatever it was that Margot doesn't want to tell me.

"What?" Gian is stunned. I can tell he wasn't expecting what I just said.

"You told me yourself that I wasn't dressed the part for seducing you.  Maybe I didn't want my looks to come down to luck anymore," I say,  looking away.

"Come to the penthouse now, let's not do this here," Gian says. I'm  shocked because I thought he was angry, but there's something in his  voice that seems more hurt than angry.

Because of that, my own response is quieter than I expected. All my  anger gets buried when I think Gian is hurt. I want this situation  diffused. "I'll say goodbye to Margot, then we'll go," I say.

Gian nods and we walk out together. I put my shirt back on and I see the  man that Gian was with is grinning wide at me when he sees me.

"Damn good upgrade, Sandoval," the man says.

Gian bristles at the words and I'm suddenly so ready to be up and out of here.

"Mr. Sandoval, we were just having fun-" Margot says, talking so quickly.

I don't want Gian to be mad at her, and to his credit, he smiles and  shakes his head. "No worries, Margot," he says, but the words are  dismissive. I know Gian wants to get up to the penthouse and be alone  more than anything.

I can't say I disagree, though I'm still frustrated. I don't want to  argue more but I know that I can't just ignore Gian's reaction to what  is honestly not that big of a deal. I just want this whole night to be  over with.

Tonight was supposed to end without him because he'd be working late  …   but I get the feeling he won't be leaving the penthouse tonight after we  get up there.





10





Gian





"I only did any of this," Lucy waves her hand down her body to indicate  the clothes she's wearing, the hair, the makeup, "because you basically  had Margot load up a whole new me in those bags the night after. I'm  trying new things because my life is so completely different than it was  all of five minutes ago. You say I'm not a prisoner, so then when I try  to figure out my life, you get mad at me. How am I supposed to know  what to do?"

Shit. Well I stepped in it. "Okay, so I don't like the idea of you  looking so damn hot when other people are going to see you, but I don't  want to keep you from whatever it is that you want to do, no matter what  it be. And I never needed you to change. I love everything about you no  matter what you're wearing or if you're made up, dressed down … " Fuck I  don't know what I'm supposed to say here, and I just want her to know  that I'm sorry. That I'm crazy about her.

I know that Lucy is just trying to find her footing, but I can't pretend  like her words didn't hurt me a little. The idea that I found her  somehow not attractive enough isn't just false, but it just reflects the  god-awful parts about me that she has all wrong.

Not as if I can reach across and grab her face and tell her, hey,  princess, there are plenty of bad things about me but those in  particular aren't right.

Well, I could, but that doesn't exactly help either of our situations.

I know that the best thing that I can do is play the part of the  consummate charmer. I have to make my every move one to make her fall  deeper into my madness, to buy into the notion that she's starting to  have that I might be some decent kind of man.

Of course, I manipulate people all the time. I could manipulate women  into bed, or keep them in bed, if I wanted to. This plan should not turn  my stomach. It isn't an out of line action, or me. Yet, I find myself  wishing I were doing anything but lying to Lucy. I think I almost want  to be the person I plan to lie about being.

Well, that might have been an option a long time ago, but now I'm not  capable of being that man anymore. I killed the good man inside me and  let the monster live instead. The monster is wealthy. The monster only  cares about himself.

So if the good parts of me are dead, am I simply remembering them to  manipulate Lucy, or am I haunted by the man that I thought I left in the  past?

I don't know what to think about any of this.

But I need to stop dwelling on me. Lucy is on the menu here, and I've  got to serve up the charming bad boy she thinks she can save. I'm too  far gone  …  but she doesn't have to know that. I can't believe I'm  grappling with what I know I need to do. I have to seduce her. What I  want is Lucy, and being myself couldn't possibly keep her around. No,  I'm going to play the cards I'm dealt. I know that my body is  attractive. My mind is smart enough to pull her in. Let the games begin,  right?

Wrong. I'm thinking about Lucy, but I'm thinking about how she feels  …   and not just to manipulate those facts. I have to let myself mentally  clear my throat, perhaps, and that's all this is? That's all I hope this  is, because I can't lose my edge the one time I've needed it more than  anything.

Lucy is nervous. Despite the fact that she offered her virginity to me,  despite the fact that when the time came, she enjoyed every second of  what we shared  …  she's nervous about the prospect of us fucking again,  and I can see that the instant our eyes meet and I approach her. That's  okay, because I know how to make a woman want me. I'm not starting a  zero. Tentative desire is what's before me. Tentative desire is just  desire that needs convincing. I know how her body responds to mine. More  importantly, I know that she wants to want me. I'll have Lucy in my  grasp, yet. Or should I say she'll be grasping me soon. Feeling her  holding onto me when I fuck is the sort of thing my every fantasy is  made of now. Every free moment has me dreaming up her body like some  kind of silly teenager or something, which is quite the sharp shift in  the wind considering just how much I've sworn off women after what  happened with my wife. Yeah  …  everything about Lucy and what she does to  me is different from anything I've known, and Lucy's just too damn good  in too many ways for me to do anything but remove the fear that might  cause her to flee. Because I gave her the option to go, and I won't take  that away. But I sure as fuck don't want her to leave so I've got to  put forth my best, shady fucking effort.

I have absolutely no intention of letting her get scared off because I'm  not sliding into a pussy that doesn't want me. No, when I fuck Lucy's  tight pussy again, I'll be doing so when it's so slippery it glistens  for me.