Page 5 of My Fake Billionaire Damaged Boyfriend

His hand soars south a bit more, right on the helm of clutching my ass into his strong grip. “How about we get somewhere more private, Kitten?”

“And do what exactly?”

“Whatever you want to do, of course.”

Swallowing my shyness, I shake my head. “I don’t think we can dothat.”

“You’d be surprised what we can do together in this place. Trust me, I have just the spot in mind.”

CHAPTER3

Dimitri

Don’t go too far, but don’t sit idly by, either.

My father’s words that were once directed at our stance on business are now ringing through my mind in a moment I never saw coming today. Besides her being in that rather blasé business attire earlier, she had the most unusual eyes I’ve ever seen, the light shading them into caramel but when my shadow swallowed her beautiful face, she has this new green tint to her irises that makes me catch fire.

My veins are throbbing, my blood is on a rampage, and there was no way I was going to sit still while she was outside in this tiny skirt. Now I get to run my hands all over her backside, her ass perfectly in my hands while her lips cling to mine. To my surprise, she invades my mouth with her tongue first, hiking one leg up so her skirt, in turn, rolls up her thighs and exposes the sweet thong underneath.

I’m dying now, needing this woman.

I’ve taken us to a spare green room in the back, soundproof for musicians to throw their tantrums before the show, but I’ve locked us inside, only a lamp or two clicked on before she came to me. I notice her drink nearby, seeing it nearly empty except for the ice on the bottom that is melted.

Part of me knows we should stop here, this interaction derailing very quickly, but I can physically feel her heat and her desire in this moment. She wants me and I want her.

But no, this passion in her touch is more than that.

Sheneedsme.

Her body is so petite in my hands, her moaning into my throat only driving my nerves off a damn cliff. I can’t help but feel her wither and writhe in my arms, grabbing my shirt like she’s willing to rip it off my chest. Meanwhile, I can’t say that I feel comfortable undoing her skirt and what’s left of her shirt with the taint of alcohol on her breath.

I really did just want to get her alone because she’s new and interesting—but I don’t intend on taking advantage of a woman in this halfway state between drunk and sober.

When she presses her pelvis into mine, I’m almost certain she can feel my erection. I bite down on her bottom lip, tasting the twinge of gin on her lips. She must not be used to drinking hard liquor, her body unsure of her footing while I hold her and run my palms over her back. I use that trail of my hands to yank her skirt down, watching her hiss in shock.

“Ah, what are you doing?”

I bring my fingertips to the front, making sure the waistband of her skirt is perfectly placed around her lower abdomen and covering that thong I thought about taking off of her with my teeth. Pushing that salacious thought aside, I adjust her shirt next to make sure her nipple won’t poke out over the cups in her bra.

If it does, I might rethink my valiant behavior tonight just so I can set my teeth on her breasts and hear her squirm with another moan.

“You’re too drunk for this,” I mutter, standing straight while she seems far more concerned that I kept her clothes on her body than if I had ripped them all over and let her naked in heels.Fuck,I warn myself.Stop thinking about that shit.“I can’t sleep with a woman intoxicated.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, clearly offended. “I’m not drunk. I had one shot.”

I press my hand against her shoulder, hardly even touching her at all, and watch her fall back into the couch. She growls in frustration, kicking her heels off and coming back to a still unsteady stance. She’s even shorter without her heels, only coming up to my neck where she glares at me from her tiny mountain of a soap box.

“You can’t tell me I’m drunk when I’ve had one shot,” she demands. “Besides, I’m not even supposed to be back here with you.”

“So, you agree with me, then?”

Her dark brows knit. “What?”

“You agree that we shouldn’t be getting this hot and heavy together, right?”

She seems tripped by her own words now. “I didn’t… I just meant… ugh!” She stomps towards the door, realizes it’s locked, and doesn’t know how to undo it. Then she forgets her heels on the floor nearby, comes back to take them in her hands, and gives me a glaring look of stress. “I should go. You’re right.”

I cross my arms, curious now. “Why do you say that? You just told me you’re not drunk, Kitten.”

---