Page 4 of The Grumpy Billionaire Baby Daddy

Intrigued, I can't help but keep my eyes on her, taking in her alluring presence. Her poise and grace are captivating, and I find myself drawn to her. The dim lighting casts a seductive glow on her figure, making her all the more enticing. She takes a sip from her drink and glances around like she's searching for something or someone. Our eyes meet, and I hold her gaze before waving and looking away. My number one rule is to never appear thirsty. Let's give it some time. She looks away and asks for a second shot. Why is she here alone?

Her short white gown accentuates her curves in the most flattering way, and her long hair falls over her shoulders. A tall guy in glasses walks up to her, and even though I can't hear their conversation because of the loud music, it's obvious she finds him obnoxious. I watch with amusement as the scene unfolds before my eyes. The tall guy seated beside her was suddenly replaced by a blonde lady, presumably her friend. The guy seems to have vanished into thin air, leaving the two women alone. I can't help but hold back a giggle at the turn of events. It's clear that she has a discerning taste when it comes to her company.

I take another sip of my whiskey, my curiosity piqued by the unfolding drama. Finally, I lift myself from my stool and walk over to her while she’s facing the other way. As the owner of Ruthless, I’ve never spoken to a woman here since its opening four years ago. It’s my principle to never sleep with or flirt with customers. I’ve always only come here to clear my head, not find women, at least not until today.

“May I?”

She turns, and I look into the most gorgeous eyes I've ever seen. She looks over me, assessing me. As if satisfied, she replies in a split second, “Yes, you may.”

I'm not surprised. No woman has ever rejected me, and why would they?

I offer her a warm smile, feeling a surge of confidence as I take the empty stool beside her, leaning in slightly. The scent of lavender wafts towards me, filling my nostrils and making my head feel a little dizzy. It's an intoxicating aroma that adds to the allure of the moment.

She smells so good.

“Tonight just got a thousand times better. What's a goddess like you doing out here alone?”

I keep my gaze on her. Although the room is dimly lit, I know her cheeks are flushed. I always have that effect.

“I'm here with my best friend,” she says, pointing to the blonde lady making out with a dark man.

It's easy to read her personality; she's the reserved friend who's been forced to go out even though she doesn't want to. Her more fun-loving friend has abandoned her to have fun. I tell her this and then offer to dance with her.

If she didn't want to be here in the first place, maybe I could make it a little better for both of us.

“I'll have you know I can't dance to save my life.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t need to do much. Let your body do the talking.”

I take the lead and ease her into it asSingle Ladiesblasts from the speakers. In a short time, Little Miss can’t-dance-to-save-her-life is working her body all over me without caution.

Electricity runs through my body, and I pull her in from behind, moving along with her waist glued to my groin. I shut my eyes, taking in everything, from the smell of alcohol mixed with sweat to the screams of delight and occasional claps to the rhythm. I bury my head in her neck, taking in her lavender scent, my eyes still shut. My pulse quickens.

“That’s it,” I whisper into her ears, suppressing the overwhelming urge to nibble her neck.

“Damn girl, you do know how to work that body.”

Heat rises from my skin. I pause to catch my breath before I lose my senses.

“I’m going to get a drink. Can I get you something too?”

“Yes, please.”

I dash off. The goal isn’t to lose control tonight. If I plan to let anything happen, it has to be completely within my control. The bartender grins as I walk toward him.

“She’s hot, man.”

I look over at her on the dance floor giggling with her friend.

“Yeah. A bottle of mojito and another bottle of whiskey, please.”

“Dude, you’re the luckiest guy tonight,” the bartender says, passing the bottles to me.

I wink and walk back to the dance floor. Her best friend zooms off when she sees me coming. I can already guess what they talked about, or should I saywhothey talked about. Her face is flushed as I hand over the bottle to her.

“I wasn’t sure what you wanted, but I brought a mojito.”

“Sweet. Thanks.”

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