BENEATH THE BOSS (Short billionaire mafia stories)

The music seduced her. The rhythm, the cadence, the very sound served to enrapture the soul of Katherine Murphy, who danced with reckless abandon across the illuminated floor of Club Groove; the premiere night club in Clearview, Florida. “My heart and soul were made to dance,” she mused in silence, her entire being immersing itself in the hard driving beat of a rhythmic techno tune. “The rest of my body, though? Not so much.” Indeed, the curvaceous 29-year-old had the keen suspicion that very few of the Martha Graham dancers sat up nights (on tiptoe, of course) fearing her competition. So instead of striving to be the most agile or gifted dancer on the floor, she instead strove to be the most charismatic; moving with frenetic movements and attempting the execution of silly old dance moves that weren’t even cool at the time of their original execution. At least one onlooker, she noted, was enjoying the show. As she launched her fully made form into a dance step that bore a closer resemblance to a spasm of some sort, she heard her moves greeted by a round of deep sonorous laughter, one that teased her senses as she sought to identify its most intriguing source. Standing at the edge of the dance floor was a man who seemed like something out of a dream, a tall, muscular vision dressed in a sleek suit of ebony silk with a slick ivory shirt underneath. Even more impressive than his ultra-chic apparel was the bronzed, carved beauty of his flawless masculine face. A visage that boasted sculpted cheekbones, full, moist lips turned upward in an amused smile, and wide dark eyes that seemed riveted to her every move. Performing a less than graceful leap that took her a few steps closer to her apparent admirer, Katherine beckoned to him with a cheeky smile, watching with delight as he immediately answered her (rather pathetic, she believed) call. Within an instant the handsome stranger stood before her, offering her his hand as he asked, “May I have this dance?” Attempting a casual shrug, Kat ran a soothing hand through her long mane of cinnamon brown hair as her rebellious gaze all but devoured his tall muscled form. “Oh I suppose so,” she deadpanned. Seizing hold of his strong sturdy hand, she stopped for just an instant as a strong current of virtual electricity seemed to pass between them. For a long, timeless moment the couple stared at one another, their gazes holding and locking as their fingers entwined tight. Taking control of the situation, her mysterious dance partner swept her up in two strong arms and swept her across the dance floor. Their bodies claiming an immediate rhythm as the music pounded and pulsated around them. Katherine wrapped her arms around his strong muscled shoulders and lost herself in his tight embrace, also losing herself in the splendorous essence that was this man. She immediately noticed his slick and stylish mode of dress, as denoted by his fine silk suit, his shiny golden watch, and a pair of polished ebony shoes that carried his form with graceful aplomb across the vast expanse of the dance floor. Beyond his posh exterior, though, she detected a rugged animal spirit that truly captured her heed. Although a total gentleman who refrained from touching any of her private areas, his strong muscled chest nonetheless pressed tight against her breasts as his bulging arms encircled her waist. His every move proved smooth and catlike as he twirled and swirled her across the floor. Their bodies moved together in a flawless rhythm as his hard, trim hips gyrated shamelessly against her own, and she took in her breath as, finally and fully, he dipped her body backward in a graceful arc and stared deep into her eyes. “I must know your name,” he whispered against her lips, his deep, melodic voice sending tingles down her spine. “It’s Katherine,” she released on a whisper, “Although my friends call me Kat.” The man nodded. “And just what, Miss Katherine, does a man have to do to become your friend?” he asked her, tone soft and sultry. Even as his provocative words made her heart pound in her chest, Kat attempted a casual shrug as she asked in return, “What, do you want detailed step by step instructions or something?” The man guffawed outright. “I do like your way with words, dear Kat,” he praised her. “I’d quite like to get to know you better.” Kat shrugged. “Well it would help if I knew your name,” she offered, adding with a playful wink, “Unless, of course, you’d just like me to refer to you as Mysterious Handsome Stranger who does a Mean Two Step.” The man chuckled, a sultry, scintillating sound that abated abruptly as he noted the arrival of an unexpected visitor, a tall, silver haired man who appeared at his side with a stern, unsmiling expression. His own beam dissolving quickly, her dance partner kept his gaze riveted on her as he asked the question, “Is this important, Doyle?” The man nodded. “Your attention is needed elsewhere, Sir,” he reported.