Page 4 of Forbidden Billionaires: Vol. 10

Saturday

Alina

Chris was waiting for me in the village square, an area in the middle of the athletes' village featuring a fountain sculpture of a soccer player.

It was surrounded by benches and places for athletes to get free food.

He looked amazing, as always, in a slim fit, shiny gray suit.

Even though he could pull off a swim cap, I always thought he looked the best when he was dressed up.

His brown hair was still wet. It looked like he had just ran his hand through it, because it was sticking up in that sexy way I liked so much.

"You look incredible," he said, staring right at my cleavage. I would have preferred he looked at my face after I spent thirty minutes on my makeup, but I couldn't blame him for focusing on my breasts. After all, I had worn my nicest pushup bra and a low cut dress.

"You too. So where do you want to eat, Mr. Gold Medalist?"

"I don't know. So many options." He looked around. Pizza, fast food, Chinese, Mexican. The junk food options were endless, which seemed crazy in a place full of athletes that should have only been eating healthy food. "Let's grab some pizza so we can eat it while we walk."

"Walk? Where are we going?" I kind of expected he would want to go to a fancy restaurant outside of the village. A nice romantic dinner apparently wasn't what he had in mind though.

"I heard Sword Body Wash is hosting a party at Club Blue over by the water."

"Oh, okay." I wasn't a big fan of parties. I found them sweaty and crowded and gross. But if that was what Chris wanted to do to celebrate winning gold, I wasn't going to argue. This was his big night. "Pizza and a party it is."

We walked over and ordered some pizza. It was cheesy and delicious and everything I had been craving during the past few months of training.

Well, not everything. I was really craving some sex, but I had decided I couldn't risk Coach finding out and benching me.

Eating pizza and going to a party would have to be enough for Chris until the volleyball finals were over.

"So why weren't you answering my texts?" asked Chris as we walked and ate. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to show."

"Oh, was I late? Sorry, I lost my phone earlier. And I didn't account for the fact that wearing these damn shoes would slow me down so much." I pointed at my black stilettos.

"Well, I'm never going to complain about you being late because of those." He slowed his pace to let me get a few steps ahead of him. "They make your ass look so good."

"That's exactly why I wore them." I looked back at him with a seductive smile and made sure to shake my ass as much as possible as we approached Club Blue.

The club looked insane. We were still at least 30 yards away from the building, but I could already feel the ground vibrating from the music. There were neon lights everywhere and a line snaked around the side of the building.

"You really want to celebrate by waiting in that line?" I asked.

"No way. A hot girl and a gold medalist? They'll let us right in."

We walked right up to the two gigantic Brazilian men dressed in jeans, black T-shirts, and sunglasses positioned at the entrance to Club Blue. One of them stuck his beefy arm out to block the door as the other one looked me up and down.

"Go ahead," said the bouncer to me in a thick accent. Then he turned to Chris and pointed to the back of the line. "You wait."

Chris opened up his suit jacket to reveal the gold medal around his neck. The bouncers immediately waved us through.

When I saw the inside of the club, I kind of wished they hadn't let us in.

The club consisted of a dance floor in the middle filled with sweaty people and more foam than a professionally drawn bubble bath at a five-star hotel.

In the front, a DJ with crazy dreadlocks spun records while girls in bikinis and neon colored boots danced in cages on either side of him.

The bar to the left was manned by tan men in bike shorts covered in far more oil than could ever be considered appropriate, while the bar on the opposite side of the club was operated by girls dressed just as slutty as their male counterparts.

Chris grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the bar with the female waitresses. Shocker. After a few seconds, a brunette in a black bikini approached and smiled at Chris, ignoring me completely.

"What can I get you?" she asked, leaning over the table and pushing her breasts together.

"Let's start with a round of shots. Vodka."

"Sure thing." The girl jotted down his order on a sheet of paper and then put the back of the pen in her mouth. "If there's anything else you need, just let me know."

"Do you really think I should be having shots?" I asked. "I don't want to be hung over for my game tomorrow."

"Come on! Don't be such a party pooper."

"But my game..."

"Your game doesn't matter."

"What do you mean it doesn't matter?" Asshole! Just because you have a gold medal doesn't mean I don't want one too.

"You've already qualified for the quarterfinals so it doesn't matter if you win or not."

He was right. Kind of. We had won all of our games so far and qualified for the quarterfinals, but Brazil hadn't. The only way for them to avoid being eliminated was to get a victory against us. "Of course it matters. We have a chance to take down Brazil."

"I know. But one shot isn't going to hurt you. You're so good that you could beat Brazil even with a hangover." He flashed me his stupid charming smile that always got him what he wanted.

"Alright, fine. One shot. So how does it feel to have your gold medal?"

"It's pretty awesome. But really I'm just excited to be able to bang you again."

"Uh, about that..."

The slutty waitress interrupted me by putting a tray of vodka shots on our table. I grabbed one and raised it. Chris and the waitress did the same. Really? She's going to do shots with us?

"Here's to your first gold medal!" I said and emptied the shot glass down my throat. It burned as it went down. The alcohol hit me almost immediately. I was never much of a drinker, but during training I hadn't been drinking at all. My alcohol tolerance was basically nonexistent.

"Oh my God, you won gold?!" asked the waitress.

"Yup." Chris pulled his medal out and smiled.

"That's so awesome. Come with me." The girl grabbed his arm and started dragging him up towards the DJ booth. He pulled back and downed two more shots before letting her pull him away. I awkwardly followed behind. What the hell is this girl's problem?

She whispered something to the DJ. He nodded and then turned down the volume on the record and jumped over the side of his equipment with a microphone.

"Alright, alright people!" screamed the DJ. Everyone stopped dancing and looked up. "Tonight we're joined by another gold medal winner. What's your name, man?" He held the microphone over to Chris.

"Chris Hamilton."

"Let's give it up for Chris!"

The people on the foamy dance floor cheered.

"Any song requests?" The DJ asked.

"Hmm...how about the thong song?"

The thong song was the first song we danced to the night we met in college. At first I thought it was sweet that he would choose that song tonight, but then I realized it meant Chris was going to want to dance with me in that horrible pit of sweat and foam.

"Excellent choice, my man." The DJ jumped back behind his booth and hit a few buttons on his laptop.

He turned the volume up and waited for a spot to blend the beats.

After a few seconds I heard the familiar sound of Sisqó sounding creepy talking about "the finer things in life.

" The bumping and grinding immediately resumed on the dance floor.

"Shall we dance?" asked Chris.

I sighed. Do we really have to? "Okay, one dance."

The dance floor was even more disgusting and loud than I had imagined. I just kept telling myself that all I had to do was hang in there for one dance.

Chris spun me around and pulled my ass back onto him as I moved to the rhythm.

The warm foam on my legs was repulsive, but I tried to ignore it.

It didn't take long before I started to feel his erection push against my ass.

That combined with the vodka I had drank and his fingers digging into my hips gave me a familiar pull in my stomach.

One of his hands wandering up to my breasts just made it even worse.

I dipped low and then pushed my ass up against him hard. God, I'm so horny.

Chris kept one hand on my back to keep me bent over while his other hand slid down and pushed the hem of my dress up over my ass. I put my hands on his to stop him.

"What's wrong?" he said.

"You can't just pull my dress up in front of all these people!"

"No one will notice. Come on." He grabbed at the bottom of my dress with his other hand.

I pushed him off playfully. "Sorry, babe.

You know that I can't until after the tournament.

" Shit, he just wants sex tonight. I had to find a way out, and I couldn't just suggest we leave or he'd try to come back to my dorm room and bang me there.

I looked around the club for ideas. After a second I spotted a group of guys from his swim team.

I pointed over at them. "Hey, did you see that Bill and Adam are here? "

"Nope. And I'm not interested in them." He grabbed my hips to try to get me to grind on him some more.

"Come on, let's go say hi to them." I pulled him off the dance floor towards their table.

"Yo, Chris!" yelled Adam over the music as we approached. He scooted further into the booth to make room for him.

"Let's see that gold," said Bill. "Maybe that's what we need to get some girls over here."

"First we need to do some shots!" Adam stuck his hand up to try to get the attention of a waitress.

I leaned over and talked into Chris' ear. "Hey, I think I'm going to get going. I'm starting to get a headache and it's kind of late. Congrats again on winning your race." I kissed him on the cheek and walked toward the exit.