Page 24 of Billion Dollar Revenge

I want to reply, but my brain isn’t working properly, her hand is still on me, and I swear the temperature has increased. There's a spark between us. I thought it was just a one-off, but the same thing is happening again.

I’m definitely losing it.I remain silent, as my brain tries to work out what my body is doing. She giggles before shaking her head and removing her hand from me. I want to catch her hand to continue holding her just to see if this weird heart-thumping, overheating feeling will fade. Surely, over time it will, and then I’ll go back to…back to what?

We arrive at a set of steps that leads down to a dark wooden door. It’s an underground bar. Reaching for the handle, I open it for her.

Her eyes flick from me to the door. I see the wheels turning in her head. Instead of speaking, she surprises me by walking past me, her tall frame brushing my chest. My nostrils flare as I follow her inside. I’ll take a guess that no guy has opened any fucking doors for her.

I try to let that wash over me as we make our way inside. I follow behind, watching as she takes in the bar for the very first time. It’s unlike most bars, not dingy or sticky. They have the best cocktails and vibe. If anywhere can get me to relax, it’s here.

The server spots me and ushers us to the corner, where the burgundy lounges are surrounded by curtains. The tealight candle in the middle of the table adds to the mood.

Chelsea takes a seat, and I sit beside her. The server hands us each a menu, but I know what I want.

He says he will come back in a few moments to take our order.

“I feel out of place,” she whispers, her brown eyes inspecting the place before looking down at her sneakers.

I tilt my head to the side, not understanding.

She runs her hand over her training outfit. “I’m not wearing the right outfit for a place like this. Maybe we should go somewhere else?”

My eyes have traced the outline of her delicious curves?enhanced by the figure-hugging material that fits her like a glove?more than just a few times today.

Each time I catch myself, I remind myself she just broke up with Bobby.

“No. There’s nothing wrong with what you’re wearing.”

Her teeth graze her bottom lip, and I watch with fascination. I bring my gaze up to her eyes, noticing they’re heated.

“Thanks, but you’re in a suit.”

It’s silent, but her eyes scan the area around us as she settles into the chair.

“I don’t care what you wear with me.”

Her gaze radiates affection, and silence descends upon us once again. But our eyes stay on each other’s. My mouth suddenly dries from the intensity passing between us.

Like she’s snapping out of a daze, she shifts her attention. “This place is cool.”

“It is.”

“And this menu, I’m going to have trouble deciding what I want.”

“I have a few suggestions.”

Her lips tip up in a smile. She’s incredibly sexy when she gives you one of her genuine smiles.

“Sure.”

I nod and point on her menu at the few that are gin or tequila based. “Women usually want this.”

“I’m not like other women,” she replies with a teasing smirk.

I lean closer, my voice barely a whisper. “No, you’re not.” The electricity between us thickens, a spark of something unspoken hanging in the air.

Her throat works as she swallows. “What are you ordering?”

“Whiskey’s business.”

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