“To our success.” Croix raises his glass to me.
“To the success of The Billionaires Club,” I correct him before clinking our glasses together.
Even though we're both exhausted, he insisted that I stay after the party to share a glass of champagne with him. Neither of us drank during the event. We both wanted our wits about us as we walked around the room greeting and talking to guests. Now that it's all over, I feel socially drained. I wanted to go home, but I couldn't resist the idea to spend a little bit of post-work personal time with Croix.
He takes a sip of the bubbly drink within, leaning against his desk. I'm sitting in the chair in front of him, staring at the condensation on my glass.
“It's been a long night.” He bends forward slightly for effect.
“Long but successful, I think. A lot of the guys seemed interested in signing up.” I run my fingertip along the side of my glass absentmindedly.
“Interested doesn't always translate into action. Interested can be faked.” He shifts his weight as if his feet hurt from all of the standing we've been doing. That's why I'm sitting now. Even though I'm only wearing one-inch heels, my feet have been killing me for the past hour.
“Hopefully, most of them were sincere.” I bring the glass up to my lips and take a sip. The tickle of alcohol as it goes down my throat feels refreshing. I'm parched, having denied myself even water for most of the evening.
“Me too.” He turns his glass in his hand. “I'm just glad a certain someone didn't show up.”
I know exactly who he's talking about, and I'm kind of surprised he brought it up.
“Me too,” I admit. “I had been dreading the party all day just thinking about it. Without him here, it was actually quite enjoyable.”
“It was.” Croix nods. “It was enjoyable for me because I was in good company.”
“Such a charmer, you are,” I tease.
“I'm serious. There's no one I would have rather shared this evening with than you.” The sincerity in his words causes my heart to course with warmth.
I gulp down my champagne, struggling to think of something to say. “So, are you going to be offering yourself up as a volunteer when the club opens?”
He swirls the champagne in his glass, letting out a short laugh. “Would that bother you?”
The question catches me off guard. I'm not sure how to respond—what he expects me to say.
“No. I suppose not,” I lie.
I think I see a flash of disappointment race across his face, but I could just be imagining it.
“I may have to if we don't get enough signups. It wasn't originally a part of my plan, though. While I love sex just as much as the next guy, I don't really think I'll have time between running this place and keeping my own company afloat.”
“How's your investment firm doing since you've been spending so much time away from it?” I change the subject, fighting back the negative feelings that his answer caused. In a few short weeks, he'll be sleeping with Lord knows how many women. I know that's part of why he's here, but I still can't help feeling jealous over it.
“It runs like a well-oiled machine, even without me around. I like to keep my foot on the pulse, though.” He quirks his head to the side in thought.
“Makes sense.”
Just a few more gulps and my drink will be finished. His is already drained.
I can't help but smirk as he grabs the bottle from his desk and refills his glass before leaning forward to refill mine as well.
I quickly place my palm on top of my glass to stop him. “I'm good.”
“Oh, come now. Tomorrow is Saturday. One more won't kill you.” The way he's looking at me says that it's not a request.
“Fine.” I acquiesce, tipping my glass towards him.
“That's better.” He fills it all the way to the top.
“I'm running out of things to talk about,” I confess.
“Nonsense. There's always things to talk about.”
I wait for him to offer up a topic, but he doesn't. Instead, I feel forced to keep the conversation going yet again.
“Did I do my hair right this time?” I draw my hand up to touch my hair.
I flat ironed the curly mess and slicked it back against my head to make it look more sophisticated. For the briefest time while I was getting ready I thought about pulling my hair into a ponytail, but I knew it wouldn't go with the dress. At least, I thought it wouldn't. If I was wrong, then I'm sure I'm about to hear it.
“It looks fine,” he laughs.
“Good. Got to get Mister Stylist's approval over there.”
“Mister Stylist, huh?” He huffs with a grin.
“Or would you prefer that I call you the fashion master?”
“I'm no such thing. I just know what looks good.”
As awkward silence overtakes us, I chug the rest of my champagne. Thankfully, this was the last of the bottle. After Croix finishes his, we lock up, and he walks me out to my car.
Once we get there, I spin on my heels to face him. My dress catches on the bottom of my shoe, and I lose my balance. Panic spikes inside of me as the ground rushes to meet me with rapid speed. I gasp as strong arms wrap around me, catching me before I hit the floor.
My heart drums as I lock eyes with Croix. The sexual tension between us rockets to an almost insurmountable level. His hands clutch onto my waist tightly. My fingers, once digging into his shoulders for support are now resting against his chest. If his heart is mirroring the erratic behavior of mine, I can't feel it beneath the thickness of his blazer. He traces his tongue across his bottom lip, and my gaze falls to his mouth. Everything inside of me wants him to kiss me. I hunger for it. The moment is so ripe with desire that I can feel my panties growing moist just from having him so intimately close.
“Are you alright?” He disengages from me suddenly, wrenching my hope of having him away.
“I'm fine.” I smooth down the front of my dress.
I'm far from fine. My vibrator is going to be getting a workout when I pull it out of my bedside table drawer tonight.
***
The music is booming at Monarchy Nightclub. After the underwhelming time I had at Il Bacio, I decided to go out alone tonight, but not before checking the clubbing group's schedule to make sure that we don't have a run-in. They're at Shout! Karaoke right now.
I stick close to the bar in the hopes that some handsome stranger will buy me a drink. I sway to the music, watching the throngs of gyrating bodies on the dancefloor. I've been on horny overload ever since the intense moment I shared with Croix last night. Masturbating didn't take care of my itch for some male attention, so now I'm here. I won't be leaving without someone by my side.
“Hi there,” someone next to me says.
I turn my head towards a man who looks like he's probably an accountant in his day life. His wispy blond hair is slicked back in an attempt to cover that he's balding. The black frames around his beady brown eyes are only slightly thicker than the lenses of his glasses. His stomach bulges out like a baby bump.
“Hi.” My gaze flutters back to the crowd, my actions representative of my disinterest.
“Are you here with someone?” He looks me up and down. Tonight I'm in a simple black dress with a low back. I straightened my hair and left it down. There's nothing particularly flashy about my outfit, but it should get the job done.
“I'm not.” I force a smile.
“Can I buy you a drink?” He points to the bar.
“No thanks. I'm not going to be staying much longer, and I want to be able to drive.”
“That's too bad.” He shoves his hands in the pockets of his slacks and rocks back and forth on his heels. “Care to dance before you go?”
“I actually need to go to the little girl's room.” I excuse myself, feeling a pit forming in my chest. It's looking like tonight is going to be a bust too.
I was willing to settle for average. This guy is several notches below that. Rejecting him without a backup plan makes me feel like I should leave.
There are always other bars and clubs, I remind myself. Just because I'm leaving this one doesn't mean I have to go home. The night is still young.
I'm almost at the entrance when someone grabs me by the arm. I pivot to see who it is and am met with an unexpected sight.
“Where do you think you're going?” Raj smiles down at me.
“I was on my way out,” I admit, now slightly less inclined to leave.
“You should stay and have a drink with us.”
“With us?” It only takes me a second to figure out who us is. I glance past Raj just in time to see Croix stepping up behind him.
“Hello, Raven,” his voice is silky smooth.
“Are you stalking me, Mister Philbrook?” I quirk an eyebrow at him. “Because last time I checked, we ended up at the same club last weekend too.”
“Me. Stalking you?” He gestures between us. “You're a funny girl, Miss Tarley. I just like to go out and have fun. And if that means bouncing around to different clubs, then I can't help it if our paths cross.”
“So you like to get around?” I make a subtle jab at him, wondering if he already has a girl picked out for the night.
“You could say that.” He tilts his head to the side, smirking in amusement.
“Well, as I was just telling Mister Sodhi here, I was just leaving.”
“Raj. Call me Raj. I insist,” Raj corrects me.
“Raj.” I nod respectfully.
“Have you been here a while?” Croix inches closer so he can hear me over the pounding music.
“Yeah,” I lie.
I've only been at the club for about twenty minutes. It's long enough to know there's nothing here for me, especially now that the two of them have shown up. If it was Raj alone, I might have wanted to hang out. Knowing that Croix is here on the prowl just sours my mood.
“Well, you should stay and have a drink with us. I'd like to get to know you better outside of work.”
This comes as a surprise to me. I sincerely thought he was only here to pick up a piece of ass. Not that I'm one to judge. I'm here for the exact same reason. I just don't want to have to watch him have his choice of the girls in the club while I struggle to pull in a decent-looking guy. My ego is still in a downward slide between the happenings of last weekend and tonight.
I shift my weight, my gaze lingering on the door leading out of the club and into the freedom of the night. If I leave, I might end up going home alone. If I stay, at least it will be interesting.
“I suppose I can hang out for a little while.”