A One Night Stand With the Billionaire Read online

  A

  One Night Stand

  With the Billionaire

  Part 5

  By

  Sierra Rose

  Copyright © 2017 by Sierra Rose

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  A One Night Stand With The Billionaire (Taming The Bad Boy Billionaire, #5)

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Visit Sierra Rose at: www.authorsierrarose.com

  Chapter 1

  I caught sight of him from across the room. It was impossible not to, because he was the kind of man who made everything around him look like it was standing still.

  The room was dimly lit with the kind of dusky lounge ambiance meant to remove imperfections and paint everyone in their best light. Nevertheless, there was a strange kind of glow about him, as if he’d been cut out and photo-shopped into the picture from some other place—someplace where the sun was still shining and all the people could breathe a little easier.

  When he caught me staring, much to my blushing chagrin, he stared back for a moment, then rolled his eyes over me, looking me up and down. His fingers tightened around the drink in his hand, and his lips curved up into a bored smile that seemed to ask, “This kind of sucks, huh?” It was the type of grin that turned me into a coconspirator, whether I wanted to be or not, disarming and incriminating all at once.

  I smiled back, but it took every bit of focus and determination I had in me to do it, because I really just wanted to keep staring. Something about that guy made a silent, sexy demand that I be instantly released from all other responsibilities in my life. I wanted to freeze him where he stood, whip out my phone, and take a million pictures just to immortalize the moment. I wished I could strike a bargain with the heavens or wherever that angel came from, to request at least a dozen years to take him all in. I wanted the powers-that-be to just suspend everything for a long, long time, till I could work up the courage to actually talk to the gorgeous creature without falling down, stuttering, or making a complete idiot of myself.

  He has to be used to that, right? I mean... Just look at him! You might not be so bad, comparatively speaking. I’m sure he’s encountered more than his fair share of babbling idiots, dumbstruck by how hot he is.

  The handsome man couldn’t tear his gaze from me. He seemed to appreciate the dress I’d chosen for the occasion, and it was one of my favorites as well. The simple black halter made the most out of my curves, and as if that wasn’t enough to catch the eye, the front dipped down to my navel, and there was a giant slit running up the side.

  A man standing beside him leaned down to mutter something quickly and excitedly into his ear. Then, a spatter of high-pitched, outrageous laughter came from the woman standing on the other side of him.

  In spite of his buddy’s words and the exaggerated chuckles from the woman, he never lost focus, never took his eyes off me, and just held me captive in his gaze.

  The bronze light fixtures dangling from the ceiling sent shimmering light across the tresses and waves of his dark hair as he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, toward the exit. I followed the gesture with my eyes as wide as saucers, entirely unable to grasp that the moment was real or, even more, that he was actually directing that gesture at me.

  When he smiled again, my entire body sprang to life, and that, ladies and gentlemen, was the moment when all the craziness began.

  The next second, he was off, leaving his friends without a word of goodbye and weaving his way through the crowd as they parted before him like Moses’s Red Sea; abrupt as it was, his exit was as smooth as a choreographed dance.

  I, on the other hand, was not so graceful or lucky with mine. “Excuse me,” I muttered, elbowing people out of my way. “Excuse me. Sorry. Sorry. Oops! Excuse me...”

  Eventually, I did make it to the back door. I stopped there for a moment, a sudden wave of nerves prickling uneasily in my stomach.

  Is this really happening? Did that guy really just invite me to leave with him, without a word of introduction? Just a casual nod from across the room? Is that really all it takes for me to run off with a stranger?

  To be honest, I wasn’t sure things like that could ever happen in real life. It seemed a little too much like some silly romantic comedy or maybe some corny scene ripped out of the pages of a romance novel. In a ritzy Market Street pub, it was a bit difficult to believe.

  The reality smacked me when I saw his drink, abandoned on a table by the door, the condensation from the frosty beverage forming a puddle all around it.

  Without another thought—and before I had a chance to talk myself out of it—I gave the door a shove, pushing it open with way too much force, so much that it banged against the brick wall. Out there, I spotted the beautiful one leaning casually against a fire escape on the far side of the alley.

  His own reaction to my rather dramatic entrance was a nonchalant, “Hi,” as he simply tilted his head to the side, wearing that same enticing smile.

  Wow! Even his voice is perfect, so hypnotic and smooth. Not only that, but it harbored an irresistible English accent I was already coming to secretly adore.

  “Hi back,” I answered, not nearly as sexy. To make matters worse, my skin flushed bright pink the second I opened my mouth. I dropped my eyes quickly to the wet cobblestone, prepared to just shrivel up and die, when a sudden breeze tossed my hair away from my face. I glanced up and saw him standing right in front of me, mere inches away.

  “I hate this bar,” he blurted, his voice soft and compelling. “It’s not exactly my top choice. It’s just too clean, too...scripted, ya know?”

  So he didn’t like one of the premiere locations in London?

  “So, uh...” I struggled to find the words, staring up into his eyes. “If you don’t prefer it, why are you here?”

  He smiled again, this time flashing a row of perfect, pearly teeth. He beamed like that a lot. Whether it was real or simply designed to put me at ease, I didn’t know, but I liked it either way.

  “My friends dragged me here for some kind of commencement thing.”

  “Me too,” I volunteered quickly. “It’s the start of—”

  “May I kiss you?”

  My lips fell open a fraction of an inch, and my body suddenly felt quite warm, despite the chilly English night. “Um...what?”


  He took a step closer, that same little smile still dancing in his eyes. He didn’t repeat the question; he seemed to understand that I needed a moment to digest it. Instead, he simply reached out a long finger and ran it down the side of my face.

  That simple gesture left a physical burn in its wake, a fiery, smoldering something trailing out behind it. A visible tremble swept through my entire body, and without thinking, I took a step closer as well.

  May I kiss you? Not can I, but may I. It was grammatically correct, and something about that blew my mind. Whoever he was, he’d clearly been raised with those impeccable English manners.

  For whatever reason, that inane thought ran through my head when he cupped his hands around my face and lowered his lips to mine. He paused just an inch away, awaiting my answer, those sparkling eyes scorching my very soul.

  It was all I could do to even nod, and I had no idea how I managed to keep my knees from buckling and stay on my feet as the two of us came together for the first time. All the air rushed out of me in a single instant, leaving me literally speechless.

  The kiss was dirty and wicked, something that implied much more to come. A silent gasp ripped through me as I surrendered myself to it completely. I couldn’t help but close my eyes and hover there, on the tips of my toes, just letting the devilish magic wash over me.

  Nope. I was wrong. This man doesn’t have manners at all, I quickly decided.

  The night was cold, but his mouth was warm, and his tongue was even warmer. Somehow, his hands were even steamier, a sensation I felt when they vanished from my face and slipped down to my lower back. His fingers ran lightly over the fabric of my dress, tracing invisible patterns that I would never see. I felt his heartbeat quicken as he pulled me closer to encircle me completely in his embrace. I could not believe he took me to the edge of all logic and reason with that one mind-blowing kiss, but just as quickly as it began, it was over.

  My eyes snapped open as a rush of cold swept suddenly over my skin, the burning flush that had enveloped it dissipating fast in the breeze.

  He stared into my eyes. “Let’s dump this place. I know a far better one.”

  I wasn’t that girl, not by any stretch of the imagination. I would never go home with a guy on the first date, never throw caution to the wind and kiss a stranger in an alley, let alone on a night like that, in a city I didn’t know. The only issue was, I’d done just that.

  “I-I don’t...” I stalled, trying to buy myself more time.

  “I’m talking about a night club. Let’s go grab a drink.”

  “I’m not really familiar with—”

  “I am.”

  An incredulous smile rose to my lips, and I tilted my head to the side. “Well, I’m not really familiar with you either.”

  He backed down for the first time, but he wasn’t about to surrender that charming little grin of his, the one that made me want him all the more. “That’s true.”

  Just like that, the ball was back in my court. It was my decision, and he wasn’t going to beg me to join him. It was a simple invitation, and I really, really wanted to go. “Do you have something in mind?” I asked, still unable to believe I was willing to go along with the beautiful lunatic’s spontaneous plan. “Someplace close, preferably. I’ll need to, uh...”

  I trailed off as he turned to look down the street. His chin lifted ever so slightly, and his eyes dilated with sudden focus, as if he sensed something I could neither see nor hear, at least not till a second later. The faint pulse of music was coming from a distance like a whispered beacon, beckoning us up the road.

  I loved the sparkle that danced across his eyes. He turned those magical eyes back to me and said, “Would you like to dance?”

  His charisma was contagious, his excitement catching. Not only that, but the man standing in front of me was too impossibly beautiful to ignore.

  “I would love to.”

  Without another word, he took my hand and led me swiftly out of the alley and onto the main road, where we were greeted by a barrage of lights and sounds of an entire nocturnal cityscape that had come to life. London didn’t fall asleep easily, but I was used to that, considering that New York was the same way. The States certainly didn’t have the monopoly on cities that never slept.

  Chapter 2

  My new companion moved with easy confidence, as if he had designed the streets himself, pulling me along with that same effortless grace he’d employed at the bar.

  Until we had already crossed the street and were headed toward the flashing lights, I really didn’t realize it might be a good idea if I had some inclination of his name. “Hey,” I said, giving his wrist a gentle tug and pulling us both to a stop. Another light blush swept across my skin as he turned and gazed down at me with an inquisitive smile. “I just realized that we don’t even know each other’s names. I’m—”

  “No names,” he said quickly, shushing me with a finger to the lips. When I looked up questioningly, he brought my knuckles to his lips for a soft kiss. “No names, no strings, no consequences,” he explained, his dark eyes burning into mine, setting my entire body ablaze. Then, as if second-guessing himself, he asked, “Is that okay?”

  It was as if a door opened in front of me, beckoning and inviting me inside. Again, the decision was mine, but I had the distinct feeling that if I didn’t walk through, it would never open to me again. “Yeah, that’s fine,” I said.

  Famous last words.

  He flashed another blinding smile, nodded quickly at the bouncer, and a few seconds later, the two of us were walking into the loudest, craziest nightclub I’d ever been to.

  My lips parted in astonishment as we melted quickly into the crowd. The air was thick with tequila and sweat. A fog machine in the corner was shooting streaks of neon light through the heavy shadows, and the floorboards were literally bouncing with vibration as what looked like an entire army of London’s hipster underground writhed and grinded together in a tangle of limbs.

  It wasn’t my typical scene in any way, but it was also not my typical night.

  “I’m going to use the little ladies room,” I said.

  He shot me a shocked look.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Wow, you’re forward.”

  I laughed. “Am I now?”

  “Yes, indeed. I mean the last woman who hit on me at least took me out to dinner first, but you want me in the bathroom already?”

  A smile grew across my lips. I knew he was joking and trying to break the ice between us.

  I softly touched his arm. “How about I get you a few more drinks first?”

  “I like your thinking. Get me a scotch on the rocks, and then I might be more open to the idea.”

  I playfully swatted him and he laughed.

  When I returned, he handed me a drink.

  The walls blurred into a single streak of electric purple as my mystery man spun me suddenly toward him and caught me just a few inches away. A series of bright greens and violets streaked across his lovely face as he gazed down at me in the dark, waiting with an outstretched hand, yet another silent invitation.

  It’s just his style, I was coming to understand. Everything might be his idea, but the choice is always mine. That said, he was so damn irresistible that saying no wasn’t an option, and I was pretty sure he knew that all too well.

  The second I took his hand, the music changed, slowing into something smoother, something sexier. His fingers closed over mine as he pulled me into his chest.

  I had never been a great dancer, and fancy footwork was not my forte. To say I had two left feet would have been an understatement; on most occasions, it was more like having one left foot, one pogo stick, and a tripwire to stumble over. Growing up, I attended public school in the States, so of course I’d learned the tried-and-true, basic hold-each-other-and-sway prom routine, that awkward rotation that ended only when couples broke apart to sneak off to make out in the backseat or throw up the spiked punch in the cafeteria bathroom. That,
however, was the extent of my knowledge in the world of dance. It was a testament to how smitten I was that I’d actually dared to accept the mystery man’s offer. Then again, dancing with him wasn’t like anything I’d done before.

  It was sex, pure and simple. As people pressed in around us from every side, our bodies melted against each other, twisting back and forth in a kind of sensual wave.

  “You feel nice,” he murmured, slipping his hands to my lower back as his hips grinded temptingly against mine. “Really nice.”

  We were skin to skin, so close that I could feel his racing pulse through the thin fabric of his shirt. I felt the heat rise from his body and sink into mine. As his forehead dipped down to press lightly against my own, I caught a whiff of his sweet-scented hair.

  “You smell like honey.”

  He pulled back a few inches and stared down at me curiously. There was a pause in his sensual rhythm as a heated blush blossomed in my cheeks.

  “Your hair,” I muttered, wishing like hell I’d just kept the compliment to myself. “It smells like honey.”

  He stared for another second before his confusion vanished into another smile. A burst of quiet laughter echoed in the air between us as we started swaying once more. “Abby,” he said.

  “Huh?” I asked, looking up at him in confusion. “You’re not trying to guess my name, are you? I thought we agreed on no names.”

  “No,” he said with another laugh. “Abby’s...a friend. She sent a bucket of this shampoo for my birthday. For reasons I have yet to understand, she found the gift hilarious.”

  I smiled in spite of myself, inspired by the broad smile he seldom lost. Everything about him was contagious; it was impossible not to smile in return.

  “Happy late birthday then, and your friend did well with the shampoo. It smells delicious.”

  He grinned again. “She’ll be happy someone noticed. She’s my best friend’s wife.”

  “Oh.”

  Those were the last words spoken between us for a while as the music picked up speed and our bodies reacted accordingly. We writhed, grinded, and swayed with a sexual fluidity I didn’t think myself capable of until that very moment. Before long, the two of us were damp with sweat. Our breath came in quiet, shallow bursts as we gripped each other, our eyes dancing with an explosion of flashing neon.