Wicked: Billionaire Rules (Alpha Billionaire New Adult Romance) (2 page)

W
hen I got home
, I decided to look him up on the internet. I opened my duct-taped laptop and typed in his name. He was definitely the most handsome man I’d ever encountered, but after a few mouse clicks, I found out that he was one of the wealthiest men in Manhattan.

Leo Cole, a self-made bilLeonaire had become one of the youngest brokers on Wall Street to hit the bilLeon dollar mark. He’d diversified his portfoLeo into real estate and various businesses around the globe. Running an international business from his tower offices in downtown Manhattan, his net worth was now in the multibilLeons.

This man had saved me from falling on my ass, not once, but twice. This man had been talking to the club manager on my behalf. I bit my lip and closed the computer. It was all too much to take in.

That night, I dreamed of Leo’s deep blue eyes looking down at me in my skimpy dress. My body melted for him as he ran his fingers up my arm and down between my breasts, stopping only when they’d reached the dampness between my legs.

I shot up from my bed as the morning light streamed through my window and got ready for my day. Thankfully, my truck started after only two tries, and I made it to school without incident.

When I got home, I had a stack of bills waiting for me in the mailbox. Tuition was due. Because of my ridiculously complex relationship with my mother, I was ineligible for federal student loans. I had to pay for classes out of pocket and with a few private loans.

I was barely scraping by before Addison left, now I was in deep trouble. I sank into my thrift store couch and picked up my cellphone. What was I going to do? The idea of taking the job at Club Scarlet scared the living crap out of me. Leo Cole scared me even more. But as I gazed down at my cellphone and found no missed calls, I wished to god that I could get the job.

After I ate a meager dinner, I sat at the dining room table and did my homework. At half past eight, my cellphone rang. I lifted it and saw Private Number in the caller ID box. I accepted the call and said hello.

“This is Clive Bowman from Club Scarlet.”

“Oh, hi Clive. I’m so glad you called.”

“Kira we’d like to offer you a position at the club starting tomorrow night. Will that work for you?”

“Well, I have my other job tomorrow, and I haven’t given notice.”

“It’s a thousand dollars a night to start.”

“Wha… did you say a thousand dollars a night?” Sweat trickled down my brow. I gulped. What did I have to do for a thousand dollars? My eyes trailed over the stack of bills.

“Yes, Ms. Glass. That is our starting rate for female servers.”

“Starting rate,” I stammered.

“Well. Can we expect you tomorrow night?”

“Yes. I’ll be there.”

“Nine o’clock sharp. What you wore to the interview should be fine, but you’ll need other dresses for your other shifts. And, Ms. Glass, buy yourself some sexy underthings if you don’t have them already.”

All I could do was agree before I hung up the phone. The last statement threw me off, but what was I going to do? Turn down a thousand dollars a night? I had no idea what they expected me to do, but how different could it be from waiting tables?

T
he next night
came way too fast. I stood in my mirror inspecting myself in the tiny pink dress feeling naked and ridiculous. There was a knock at my door, and I jumped from shock. I wasn’t expecting anyone. I walked to the front door, feeling worried, and looked through the peephole. On the other side, stood a deliveryman holding a large package.

I opened the door, crushing my eyebrows together. He looked me up and down and I remembered I was wearing the hot pink dental floss dress. I hugged my waist self-consciously.

“What is it?” I asked. “I didn’t order anything.”

“Special delivery for Kira Glass,” he said, reading from the package.

“That’s me.” He handed me the package, and I took it. I signed his clipboard and closed the door. Taking the package inside, curiosity charged through my brain. There was no return address. Maybe Addison had sent me something from Paris. Like half the rent…

I tore the package open, finding a mass of tissue paper inside. Pulling the tissue away, I uncovered lush red fabric underneath. I drew the fabric out, revealing the most stunning red cocktail dress I’d ever seen. A couture fashion designer, even I had heard of, adorned the label. My eyes grew wide as I held it up in front of me.

I discovered a shoebox below the dress box and pulled out a pair of fabulous high heels in the same lux red as the dress. Under the shoes, I found a pair of red lace panties and a bra, under that, was a note.

“Wear this to work tonight.” No name.

It must have been Clive. But why would Clive buy me expensive clothes? I pulled on the clothes and slipped into the shoes. Somehow, it all fit me perfectly. When I looked in the mirror again, I saw a different woman staring back at me.

I’d never seen myself look so sexy and sophisticated. It gave off a completely different impression than the pink floss dress. I looked like I should be walking a red carpet. It was hard to take my eyes off myself. Then I realized it was getting late and grabbed my coat on the way out the door.

I crossed the Brooklyn Bridge in record time and came to a stop near the club. My heart beat like a jackrabbit caught in a trap, and a cold shiver ran down my body. I felt numb and my head felt fuzzy. Could I really do this? I didn’t even know what to expect.

I swallowed hard, remembering the stack of bills on my kitchen table, and then stepped out of the car and onto the street. Cars zoomed by, and I was in a daze. When I made it to the front door of the club, I knocked and waited. In that moment, I seriously considered running away.

Clive himself answered and ushered me inside. Music hummed and the smell of cigar smoke and expensive brandy wafted through the air mingling with the scent of perfume. My heart raced, and I felt sweat trickle down my arm.

“Come this way. Your first client is waiting.”

“Client?” I asked. I still had no idea what I was supposed to do here.

Clive turned to me, examining my outfit and figure. “Ms. Glass, it is unusual for a girl to have no experience in how we serve our clients here. And I would have explained more on the phone, but an important friend wanted to train you himself.”

“Oh?”

“He will be your first client. Come.”

My heart jumped in my throat, and I could barely breathe. How did they serve their clients? I didn’t think I wanted to know. I’d already gotten myself in this deep. There was no backing out now. I really needed the money. If I didn’t figure out a way to pay my bills fast, I’d be out of school and homeless.

Clive led me through the large front room. Hidden booths and tables surrounded the central atrium. The last time I’d been here, I hadn’t noticed the stage. A woman sang deep blues songs on an old-fashioned looking microphone. This place was seriously out of another time.

He led me down another hallway and up a staircase carpeted with a silky red rug. I imagined that the overabundance of red was where the club got its name. Finally, we walked into the second floor hallway. It was lined with dark wood doors and seemed to go on forever.

“Come, Ms. Glass. Your client is waiting.”

Clive hurried down the hall, and I followed him, nearly tripping on the four inch heels. He came to a door at the end of the hall, marked “executive suite,” and knocked.

“Come,” the voice said from within. My heart stopped and the earth ceased spinning. The door opened.

Inside, I saw him.

L
eo Cole sat
on a red velvet upholstered chair, one arm slung around the back. He wore a sharp tailored suit that gleamed in the dim glow of the room. When he saw me, he stood and crossed the room in a few quick strides.

“Your name is Kira,” he said, bending down to whisper in my ear.

I fidgeted and cleared my throat. “Yes. Kira Glass.” I wanted to tell him I knew who he was too, but I was too overwhelmed to say any more.

“I leave her in your capable hands, Leo,” said Clive as he closed the door.

I turned to watch the door close, feeling as if Clive had just shut me in a Leon’s den. The room was large, exquisitely furnished, and draped with red velvet. The fact that it was one of the most beautiful rooms I’d ever seen wasn’t what shocked me. The huge four-poster bed was…

I stood with Leo Cole, multibilLeonaire tycoon, in a bedroom.

He looked down at me as I stood in front of him, shaking like a leaf in a windstorm. My body felt cold and numb, but sweat continued to bead on my temples. I hoped he couldn’t see it.

“Hi,” I said, feeling idiotic. He smiled at me and took my hand, bringing it to his lips. He kissed my knuckles gently and then drew away, breathing hot on my skin. My breasts swelled and my sex tingled for him to touch me more. I flushed, ashamed that I would get turned on in a situation like this.

“You look enchanting in that dress,” he said, stepping back to inspect me while still holding my hand. “I knew it would suit you.”

I snapped back to my senses. “You sent me the dress?” My voice came out harsher than I’d intended. I felt totally vulnerable and hated it. Even if I could expect a grand a night, this situation was starting to feel too messed up to continue. I contemplated leaving for a split second before he pulled me toward the center of the room.

A bottle of champagne sat in a chilling bucket and Leo scooped it out, raising an eyebrow at me as he popped the cork. A small stream of suds poured over the lip of the bottle, and he looked at me as it spilled over. With a satisfied expression on his face, he poured two glasses of champagne. He handed me a glass and took the other, tipping it forward to clink.

“What is this for?” I asked, as he held his glass toward me.

“For us, of course,” he said, clinking his glass against mine. He took a sip of champagne and turned away.

“
For us?
I don’t understand. I thought I was supposed to be a cocktail waitress. And here I am in a designer dress, that you sent me, standing in a bedroom drinking champagne. Could you explain what this job is all about, please? I’ll have to leave if you don’t tell me.”

“Patience, my pet. All in due time. Now, drink your champagne. It’s French. The finest vintage.” He sauntered over to the bed and sat down at the foot, eyeing me as he sipped from his glass.

I took a large gulp. I figured I’d need it to calm my nerves. This night was getting stranger and stranger.

“Good,” he soothed. “Now, come sit next to me.” He patted the bed.

I walked across the room in slow steps, keeping my eyes on him the whole time. My head told me to turn around and leave, but my body was screaming for me to sit next to him. The energy coming off his body made me crazy with desire, and it was as if all I wanted to do was obey him.

I sat down on the bed and looked across the room, feeling shy and stupid for being here. I took another sip of champagne, and he brushed my hair over my shoulder.

“I like that you wore it down.”

His touch electrified me, and I closed my eyes. I had to get myself together. “What am I doing here?” I demanded, finding my backbone again. I looked at him straight in the eye and didn’t look away.

“Don’t you like it here?” he asked, drinking from his glass.

“Sure, it’s beautiful. But that isn’t the point.”

“What is the point Kira?” he said, leaning forward to breathe on my bare shoulder. A thousand fingers of pleasure ran down my arm and across my neck. My sex swelled, and I squeezed my legs together as I closed my eyes. He chuckled. “You do like it here.”

“What do you want me to do?” I said, my voice breathy. My chest heaved.

“I want you to take off your clothes for me,” he said, his hot breath on my neck. The scent of his cologne intoxicated me, hinting at the prospect of exotic pleasures I’d never known.

I stood from the bed, gripping the champagne flute in my hand. Blinking my eyes as I looked at him, I tried to comprehend what he had just said to me. “You mean, you want me to strip? Is that what my job is? To strip?”

“Your job is whatever you want it to be. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”

“I don’t know if I want to take my clothes off, not even for a thousand dollars.”

“What would you do for a thousand dollars?”

“
I
thought
I was supposed to be a cocktail waitress.”

“Ah, yes. Cocktail waitress. What kind of cocktail waitresses make a thousand dollars a night?” He stood from the bed and approached me, his massive body like a dominating black cloud approaching on the horizon. I took a sharp breath as he grabbed my hand, retrieving the glass from my grip.

“I’m afraid you’ll crush it.” He laughed, setting the glasses on the table. “What if I helped you take your clothes off? Would that make you feel better?” He bent over and pressed his lips to mine. Electricity struck my body like a lightning bolt striking the earth. He wrapped me in his arms and pressed his tongue between my parting lips.

I’d like to say I resisted his sudden seduction, but instead, I melted completely into his embrace. Our lips and tongues and mouths entwined, consuming each other in that instant. It was as if nothing else mattered. My body bled desire. My sex dripped wet into the new panties he’d bought me. Darkness descended over my mind, covering me in a blanket of need.

I knew I was losing it. I’d end up letting him do anything he wanted to me if I let him continue. I pushed away, breathing heavily and took a step backward, gripping the table behind me.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking disappointed. “I was sure you liked that.” The smile returned to his face, and he crossed his arms, waiting.

We stared at each other for a silent moment. His brilliant blue eyes were alive with humor, and it made me want to kill him.

“What’s wrong, pet? Cat got your tongue? And such a lovely tongue it is.”

“What am I doing here? Why did you want me?”

“You can do whatever you’d like. Do you want the money?”

“I… Yes… Of course. That’s the only reason I’m here.”

“The only reason you came,” he said, stepping toward me. I could feel heat radiating between us. “But it isn’t the reason you stayed, is it?”

His lips were inches from mine as he slowly bent toward me. I could smell the champagne on his breath and the spice of his cologne. I stumbled backward, my ass resting on the table behind me. “No,” I said.

“No, what?” he asked, invading my space. I wanted so badly to kiss him again. Fear and longing mingled and created a deadly concoction of emotion. I felt volatile, as if I might explode at any moment. Caught between the desire to run and the desire to throw myself in his arms again, all I could do was stare up into his blazing eyes.

He licked his lips and reached around my waist, pulling me to him. “Why did you stay, my pet?” he whispered in my ear. His lips fell on mine, pressing hard against my mouth. I moaned and parted my lips, letting his tongue glide through. Our tongues danced, tasting each other again. Hunger surged inside me, and I knew if he tried to take off my clothes I’d let him.

His hands reached behind my back and pulled at the zipper on my dress. The zipping sound filled the room, as did the sound of my soft moans. He lifted his hands to my shoulders and tugged the dress down my arms. It fell unceremoniously on the ground.

He stepped back and looked at me. I stood against the round oak table, in the red lace underthings he’d sent me. I was both intensely turned on and intensely scared. A roguish smile played across his lips as he placed his fist to his chin. He circled me, examining me from every angle.

“Turn around,” he said, “I can’t see your ass.”

I turned and came back to face him. Shame surged in my chest, and I realized how absurd this all was. I never did things like this. I’d never even had a one-nightstand before, let alone standing in my underwear for a virtual stranger as he gawked at me.

“Why did you bring me here?” I whispered, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I wanted to help you,” he said, striding toward me. His hand gripped the back of my head as he pulled me into his arms and kissed me again. I melted, unable to resist. Why did he have this effect on me? None of the men I’d ever dated had ever made me feel like losing control like this.

Leo ran his hands down my shoulders and behind my back, unclasping my bra. He held me tight with one hand as his fingers slid under my bra, cupping my swollen breast. I gasped and tried to pull away, but he held me fast and wouldn’t let me go. His kiss deepened, and I moaned, my body betraying me with its arousal.

Finally, he let me push away. “How is this helping me? I came here for a job, not to have sex with you.”

“And what if having sex with me is the job?”

I clutched my bra over my breasts. “Is it?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you are playing a game with me.” I bent to pick up my dress, furious. I pulled it on and walked toward the door.

“If you leave now, you won’t get paid.”