Dining With The Cold Billionaire

Chapter 004

West.

I was bored out of my wits.

And frustrated.

Which was not an unusual thing to happen at events like this one.

People were running around trying to catch my eye, smiling brightly, pretending to be old friends. They wanted something for something, a business deal, or worse, trying to set me up with their daughters, all of them in their finest, most expensive, skin-tight dresses, batting their eyelashes like they were auditioning for a role.

I was on the verge of pulling my goddamn hair out.

My face cold and unyielding, I glanced at my watch. Twenty minutes more. That was all I was putting into this charade before I walked out.

Holding my whiskey to my mouth, I sipped it cautiously, my fingers drumming on the glass.

Conor slid in beside me, the only person in the business world I tolerated and liked. We had started out as rivals, hated each other's guts. But with time, we realized it was because we were too alike. Somehow, that led to an odd friendship neither of us ever expected or questioned.

Conor smiled. "I know that look."

I sighed. "What look?"

"The 'I'm going to disappear in five minutes' stare."

I chuckled. "Oh, you know it."

I took another sip of my beer, but my mind drifted back to some brunette in my office a couple of days ago. I shook my head lightly, irritated with myself. Ridiculous, the way I was hung up on her. Pitiful, even.

But then, something or someone caught my eye.

A short, familiar figure slipped into the party. I stood a bit taller, blinking.

Anastasia?

What in blazes was she doing here?

My gaze trailed after her as she reached for a glass of wine and drank it down in one swallow.

She did not dress like the other women here.No designer gown, no perfectly coiffed hair, no layers of high-end cosmetics. Just a big trench coat, simple heels, and her messy dark curls pulled back into a clip. Her face was bare, unadorned, wild. She was different. Like she didn't belong.

My eyes followed her as she zeroed in on someone across the room.

Conor grumbled next to me, "Uh oh… are you seeing this chick?"

Before I could even answer, Anastasia picked up a plate of dessert and marched across the room.

Then BAM !

The cake smashed into a blond guy's face, causing a simultaneous gasp from the room.

My brows arched in astonishment. Conor chuckled. "No way."

There was commotion, gossip spreading rapidly. Words like engaged, cheater, and selling information were being flung about.

My glance flashed toward the couple who'd come up, their faces entirely scandalized. Conor leaned forward, speaking low. "That's Sophia Lestat-Armond. And that's her father and mother."

I remained silent, as security came up. Anastasia shrugged them away, then, with sheer bravado, flipped both middle fingers at the blond man now covered in cake and snarled, loudly enough for the entire room to hear,

"Choke on it!”

And, she spun on her heel and stormed out.

The entire room was quiet before the music slowly resumed.

Conor snorted. "Well, that’s one way to liven up a party."

I shook my head, still surprised. "I’ll be damned. Didn’t know she had all that in her."

Conor turned to me. "You know her?"

I set my glass down. "Kinda. But I’m about to."

And with that, I slipped away, following the angry little hurricane out of the room.

---

I trailed after her to a bar a few floors away from the party scene.

She cowered in the corner, a line of shots laid out before her. Her face was smeared with tears, her eyes stormy and distant.

I shrugged my coat off and sat down in the booth across from her.

"Well, if this isn't just miserable," I drawled.

Her head jerked up, her eyes widening as she stared at me. She hastily wiped at her face.

I continued, "Cheaters, cake in the face, middle fingers up… you should turn it into a movie. The world would eat that s**t for breakfast."

She sniffed. "What brings you here?"

I raised an eyebrow. "I attended the party."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I figured. I mean, what are you doing here at this table, in front of me?"

I fought the urge to smirk. She had been so shy in my office days ago. Now, she had a mouth on her.

I leaned back. "I'm guessing the blond asshole was the fiancé?"

She pursed her lips, nodding. "Ex-fiancé."

I tilted my head. "What a pity." My tone, however, carried zero pity.

She caught it, her brow lifting. "You don’t sound very sympathetic."

"I’m not." I shrugged. "His loss. My gain."

Anastasia huffed, grabbing a shot and downing it in one go. I watched her, then ordered another round.

We sat in silence for a bit, just drinking, she's not meeting my eyes.

Finally, I said something. "He doesn't deserve you, you know. You should save your tears."

She laughed. "I know that now. But it still hurts."

My gaze scraped over her face; the dark ringlets spilling out of her clip, the lush green of her almond-shaped eyes, her full lips. And her body…

I’d seen it that day in my office.

Anastasia was a walking wet dream.

I leaned in slightly. "You should get over him."

Her gaze flicked to mine, wary. "Oh yeah? And how do you think I'm going to do that?"

My lips curled. "I can f**k him out of your head."

Anastasia's eyes widened, her breath snagging. A flush crept up her neck. "You talk so… crudely."

I smiled. "It's a good plan. You get over him by getting under me."

Her fist gripped her shot glass. She wasn't sure.

My tone dipped. "Tonight only, Anastasia." My eyes grew darker. "And in all seriousness? I want to f**k you. I've been dreaming of it since the moment I saw you in my office days ago."

Her mouth dropped open, a flash of something passing across her face.

She chewed her lip.

I nearly groaned.

Then, finally, she leaned in and breathed, "Just tonight."

I inclined my head. "Just tonight."

"It doesn't mean anything," she spoke softly.

"It doesn't mean anything," I repeated.

Anastasia gulped a deep breath. Then, "Okay."

I snagged her hand. "Let's get out of here?"

She didn't hesitate for longer than a blink before putting her hand in mine.

That was all the acceptance I needed.

I brought her out of the bar, to my Porsche, and within minutes, we arrived at my hotel room.

The moment the second door shut behind us, it was chaos.

Clothes ripped, lips crashed into each other, bodies were pressed together.

I reminded myself that I had it under control. That it was just s*x. That the night wouldn't matter.

But when I slipped into her tight, slick heat, my head hazed with lust so intense that it shattered my control.

And as Anastasia moaned beneath me, her body arching, her weighty breasts crushed to my chest, her thighs thick around my hips, I let go.

Lost myself in drowning within her.

The entire long night.

Moonlight bathed the room, glowing against our skins while both of us relinquished everything.