Page 3 of Immoral (Park Avenue Kings #3)

DIMITRI

“ A NOTHER ROUND OF applause, if you please, for the breathtaking Benoit Olivier.”

The gala attendees exploded into cheers as Benoit stepped to the edge of the stage and basked in the adulation cast his way.

I’d been making my rounds at the gala, touching base with each and every guest on the exclusive list, but when Benoit performed I made sure to stop and watch. He was just as mesmerizing as he’d been that last time I saw him, even without the private show.

He blew kisses out into the crowd, his toned body on full display with just a scrap of red lace covering his impressive bulge.

With the way he captured the attention of everyone at the party, it’d been a wise idea to bring him, and not only for my…

personal inclinations. There were conversations that needed to happen between me, my team, and a couple of buyers that wanted to keep their presence unnoticed, so Benoit would be performing an encore within the hour.

The man was an impressive distraction.

Like he could hear my thoughts, Benoit turned in my direction, finding me immediately and winking.

Then he slid his thumbs beneath the sides of his G-string again, only this time he didn’t pull it off.

He lowered the strings down below his pelvis, teasing in a way that felt personal.

At least, my dick took it personally. This little show was for me.

An appreciation for the booking? A way to tantalize the boss? Something else?

Sliding my hands in my pockets, I cocked my head, daring him to add another G-string to my collection. Benoit arched a brow, sliding the sides down lower until we could glimpse the base of his cock.

A man who flirted with danger and tested the boundaries of how far he could go? I could use someone like that, especially when they moved their body the way Benoit did.

Unfortunately, as luck would have it, the lights and music went dark, sending the guests into a collective groan.

“That’s a fuckin’ shame,” Omar said, crossing his arms as he narrowed his eyes on the now-empty stage.

“Is it?”

“That’s the guy from the club last week, yeah?” When I didn’t respond, he added, “Seems to be a…crowd pleaser.”

“Is there something you need from me?”

“Just letting you know the guys from Redwater haven’t shown up yet.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“You don’t think they will?”

I gave him a sideways glance. “If they want to prove themselves as a threat, they’ll wait to make an appearance until last minute.”

Omar fidgeted by the waist of his coat pocket, itching to palm his gun.

“Not tonight,” I said, giving him a pointed look. “Not here.”

“But if they try?—”

“They won’t. Too much on the line to try to take us out without a guarantee from the buyers.”

He snapped his mouth shut and nodded once, but his shoulders remained tense. The man needed a distraction so he’d stop watching the door.

“The dancer,” I said. “Bring him to me.”

“On it, boss.” He slipped into the crowd, and I headed toward the private lounge set up for the meetings tonight, my bodyguards trailing a few feet behind me.

I nodded an acknowledgment to those I passed, and they gave me a wide berth.

It wasn’t a carefree group of attendees gathered tonight, though everything about the party gave the appearance of a good time.

The location itself, the entire exterior of Dubai’s exclusive seven-star hotel—the only one in the world that could boast that honor—was designed to look like a private club under the stars.

Nothing but pure luxury for my guests, designed to show unlimited resources, money, and power.

Just in case anyone, including the Redwater Syndicate, wanted to test my rule.

The curtains of the cabana were drawn open on my approach, and one of my bodyguards did a sweep of the interior before I took a seat on one of the plush couches.

My favored whiskey sat on a bar cart along with glasses and an ice bucket, and a box of cigars.

A butler stood to the side, waiting for my cue, and as I settled back in my seat, I gestured for a glass.

Not usually the kind of man to be distracted by a sensual smile and a sexy body, I figured the best way to combat the intrusive thoughts was to face the problem head-on.

This dancer, Benoit, had been playing havoc on my mind all week, slipping to the forefront of any and all plans I’d been making.

So it was time to deal with the issue and make a different kind of plan.

One that would allow me to assuage my lust for him and put this fixation I’d developed to rest.

The curtain to the cabana was pulled aside, and a second later the stunning man from the stage stepped inside my domain.

He was dressed in a silky, plum-colored robe that seemed to shimmer under the lights, the garment flowing over the regal set of his shoulders and dipping into a deep V at his trim waist, where a sash held the material together with an emerald clasp.

The luxurious material swirled around those exquisite legs as he came to a stop in front of me, and if I were to hazard a guess, there wasn’t much else on under that robe.

My eyes shifted to Omar, who stood off to the side of Benoit, and I inclined my head.

“Leave us.”

I wasn’t sure how Benoit would react knowing I wanted to see him alone, but when he glanced back at Omar, giving him a flirty little wave goodbye, I had my answer.

It appeared the confidence he exuded on stage was an integral part of him, and I found it more than a little arousing that he didn’t seem intimidated by me.

“You wanted to see me, mon cher ?”

My eyes trailed down the smooth skin of his chest that seemed to sparkle along with his robe, then back up to see his mischievous eyes twinkling at me.

“I’ve seen plenty of you.” I gestured to the empty couch beside mine. “Tonight, I want to talk to you.”

Benoit gracefully took the spot offered to him. His robe parted as he crossed one leg over the other, sliding up his thigh.

“Only talk?” He leaned toward me, resting an elbow on the arm of the chair and batting his lashes. “Now that’s disappointing.”

There weren’t many people in the world who would dare talk to me the way this man was, but as he stroked the stubble covering his jaw, my dick reminded me of the reason I’d summoned him here in the first place.

I slipped my hand into my jacket pocket and fingered the gem-covered material that had been burning a hole there all night. That seemed to have seared a hole in my brain sometime last week.

“You’re very confident for a man who’s just been summoned to his boss’s private cabana. What makes you think you’re not here to be fired?”

Benoit slid his tongue over his glossy lips. “If I had to guess, the hard-on in your pants for one”—his eyes shifted to my hidden hand—“and my G-string’s being in your pocket for two. I think it’s sweet. Do you want me to sign it for you?”

His boldness had me dropping my hand.“I’m not keen on anyone touching what’s mine.”

“Even if it was mine first?” The teasing glint in his eyes had me imagining the way he’d look on his knees. Benoit inclined his head toward the whiskey. “Aren’t you going to offer me a drink?”

“No. You have another performance.”

“Maybe it’ll only encourage me to take all my clothes off this time.”

That was tempting, but I could just as easily have him naked right then if I wanted to. I didn’t need to share his incredible body with others.

His leg shifted, drawing the robe even higher up his muscled thigh.

Plan change.

“You like to play with fire,” I said, and took a sip of my drink, letting the whiskey burn its way down my throat.

“I wouldn’t do that with someone like you, mon monstre . Not when I’d rather play with you instead.”

I’d been called many things in my life, monster being one of them, but it’d never sounded as sexy as “my monster” did coming off Benoit’s tongue. And for that, I’d let it slide.

He leaned over the small table between us, and this close I could make out the green that flecked his brown eyes. They sparkled with mischief and more sex appeal than could be contained in this cabana.

I lifted my glass to his lips, but before I could tip it forward, Benoit’s hand covered mine, scorching my skin as he swallowed down the alcohol.

My cock jerked as I watched his throat work, then I set the empty glass aside and leaned back into the couch, crossing my ankle over my knee.

“I’ve got business over the next month. You’ll join me.”

Benoit didn’t blink. “I can join you tonight , but I can’t neglect my job. I’m sure you understand.”

“A job I pay for.”

He parted his lips like he wanted to refute that, but then closed his mouth.

“Exactly,” I said. “You’ll spend the month with me.”

“That’s a very kind offer, but?—”

“A million dollars.”

Benoit’s eyes flared. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’ll give you a million dollars at the end of the month.”

“For little ole me?” he said, batting his lashes as a smile curled his lips.

He knew as well as I did he was worth it and more, and I waited for his counteroffer. I’d give him a hell of a lot more than that if he asked for it.

Benoit tapped his chin with his gold-tipped nail, his head tilted as he looked at me, pondering my proposal.

“I’m flattered, but I don’t think so,” he said. “But thanks.”

I didn’t show my surprise. “Two.”

“Two million dollars? Surely you could find someone who’d enjoy a month with you for free.”

“I could. I want you.”

A slow smile crossed his face, and I knew I had him.

Until he checked the dainty, jeweled watch at his wrist.

“It’s been a pleasure, mon monstre , but it’s nearly time for my next show. I hope you’ll be watching.” Benoit rose gracefully to his feet, his robe falling closed and cutting off the view of all that tanned skin. “Oh, and if you change your mind about that signature, I’d do that for free.”

Not about to show all my cards, I let him strut out of the cabana thinking he’d gotten the upper hand tonight.

I wanted Benoit now more than ever. But there was one thing he underestimated—I wasn’t the kind of man to give up so easily.