Page 6 of Daddy Billionaire Dragon

I stand on the curb frowning at Nic’s retreating back, tapping my phone against my palm. I know she hasn’t gone back in to talk to her friend. That’s what she did when she hastily retreated to the restroom earlier. I hope she hasn’t changed her mind. I want her with every fiber of my being. The thought of spending the night exploring every gorgeous inch of her body is already making me hard. What shocks me is this is not my usual modus operandi at all. I prefer to get to know a woman better before I take her to bed, even if it is a casual fling.

I almost speed-dial my driver Chuck’s number, but stop myself. Because she had a deer-caught-in-the-headlight look when she went back in, I decide to check first. When I go back to the bar, I don’t see Nic or her friend. The guys have apparently had enough of dancing and are back on the couch.

I walk directly towards TJ.

“Where are they?” I ask without any preamble.

He points to the women’s restroom with the forefinger of his hand that is holding his drink of scotch on the rocks. I let out a frustrated breath and run a hand through my hair. Well, at least she’s still here. TJ would have spotted them if they’d left.

I try not to make my impatience obvious, but my eyes keep darting to the old-fashioned folding wooden screen that conceals the restroom entrances. It’s been nearly fifteen minutes now since Nic and her friend have gone in.

“What’s taking them so long?” I ask, my voice laced with impatience.

“Beats me,” TJ shrugs.

I walk up to the bar and ask Thomas if he can get a waitress to check the women’s restroom. Soon, a waitress goes into the ladies’ and walks back out after a few minutes.

“There’s nobody in there, sir,” she says apologetically.

“What? But that can’t be right. Thomas, did you see the pair of them leave?” I ask Thomas.

“No, Mr. Hutchinson…” he wants to say something, but I can sense his hesitation.

“Is there any other way out?” I ask.

“Well, there’s the fire exit down the corridor, beyond the restrooms,” he says apologetically.

Cursing, I rush towards the fire exit and push the door open. It opens on the rear of the building in a deserted alleyway. There is no sign of either of them. I walk up and down the alley just to make sure, but there’s not a soul there. For a mad moment, I am tempted to shift, take to the skies in a bid to find her, but realize the futility of it.

On an oath, I walk back into the bar through the fire exit. I already know in my gut that I’m not going to see her again tonight. I feel a deep stab of disappointment. This is not how I’d envisioned the night ending.

But I feel a surge of hope when upon entering the bar again, I spot Nic’s friend Penelope with her arms wrapped around TJ. She is giggling at something he whispers in her ear. If she’s here, Nic must be around.

“Where’s Nic?” I ask eagerly, directing my question at Penelope.

“S… sorry cutie, she went back home. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t lisssten,” she says with an apologetic grin. Her words are slurring and her eyelids are almost drooping shut.

“But I came back for thish hottie,” she says, running her forefinger down TJ’s cheek.

“I’m flattered, sweetheart,” he winks at her. “Let’s go,” he says while pulling her up, supporting her with his arm around her waist as they walk out. But he is back in a few minutes as I knew he would be. Even though I could see that he was terribly attracted to the blue-eyed blonde, neither TJ nor any of us would ever take advantage of somebody as inebriated as Penelope was. He must have sweet-talked her and put her in a cab back to her place.

“Neither of you are getting lucky then,” Liam grins a satisfied grin.

“Well, at least my girl came back for me, whereas Lex intimidated his so much that she had to escape via the fire exit.”

The guys guffaw loudly. Even Damon is finding it amusing, and hardly anything amuses him.

I shoot up my middle finger at them.

The night was a real disappointment. I lean back on the couch and close my eyes, only to have Nic’s face flash across my mind.

***

I am at my desk early Monday morning prepping for the investors’ meeting later in the day after a thoroughly shitty weekend. I simply couldn’t get Nic out of my mind. The harder I tried to forget her face, the clearer every feature of it became in my mind. I obsessed over her luscious lips, thought about ravaging her mouth a million times. I recalled how soft and pliable she was in my arms when we’d danced, how she’d looked at me with her emerald green eyes darkened with desire. I tormented myself by remembering how soft her skin had felt under my fingers. I couldn’t get her shapely calves and toned thighs out of my head.

Why did she leave? I have asked myself this question at least a thousand times now. Was she merely nervous? Or was it something else? Will I ever see her again? I want to find her, but I don’t know her last name. Or even her first name. She didn’t even leave behind a glass slipper that would help me find her, I think with a sardonic grin.

I rub a hand over my face as I stare at the numbers in front of me and acutely feel the absence of an executive assistant. I am going over the presentation one last time when the intercom on my desk rings.

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