Page 30 of Untouchable Billionaire (The Hardcore Novels: Special Editions #1)

* * *

Siri

* * *

This day at work is a repeat of yesterday. I learn that Charlie and TD will be back tomorrow, so I have plenty of time to think about Moore.

My doodles on my notepad again turn into hearts as I replay the night before from the beginning to make sure I understand as much as I can about the man.

What is it about his dark look that was such a turn-on?

His bearing and confidence are characteristic of a dominant alpha male, but that frightening look means more. He's a hunter, and they can be dangerous, but I wasn't scared. I was turned on even though his aggression was barely controlled.

I haven't encountered that in my years as a stripper. I have had men leer and try to take what isn't offered, but his was different. It was fueled by passion, not horniness. It was lustful, but it was more like territorial thunder. Like he wanted to tame me and make me his.

But we just met? How can he have that strong a feeling for me so quickly, and why was I so turned on by it?

I look out the window pondering that thought for a few minutes.

The phone rings, and I answer it, then take a message.

The rest of the day passes without anything eventful happening and no new revelations on Moore's motive, so I take the time to write the suggestion about the assigned parking spots for the apartment building.

I add a special request since it was my idea that I be given my usual spot and Moore be given the one next to me. Mrs. Smith will arrange it for me.

When 4 o'clock comes, I am gone.

Skillfully maneuvering my car into the parking spot next to Mr. Sexy's Raptor, I drop the suggestion in the box outside the office door and hurry to my apartment.

Getting a water from the refrigerator, I hydrate as I change into my running clothes.

I've decided to wear a pale yellow, low cut sports bra and short, black jogging shorts.

The extreme compression accentuates my deep cleavage and keeps my soft tissue from jarring.

The jogging shorts ride low and show off my toned abs too.

Walking to the elevator, my eyes fixate on 9G, hoping Moore will walk out now, but he doesn't, and I have a quiet ride down.

Once outside, I stretch, then jog at a good clip, not wanting to miss the flyboy. When I return to the sidewalk, sweat runs down my back and pools between my squished tits. My hair is no doubt sticking out in all directions. I know I don't look my best, but that's the point.

* * *

Aurei

* * *

At 4:45, I step out of the elevator and look around. Seary isn't in the lobby, so I head to the door. Looking through the glass, I see her, and I stop to watch.

She's bent over with her hands on her knees, taking deep breaths. The sight of her makes my dick hard. She's dressed in form-fitting black short shorts and a pale yellow, low cut sports bra that's so tight her big tits are smashed.

When she looks up, she sees me standing there, spying on her, and she smiles and walks up to the door. Her skin shines with the moisture of sweat, and her face is flushed from running.

Her hair is pulled up into a high ponytail, and instantly I remember her bouncing down the runway in gold chains with her ponytail playing around her face. She was stunning then, but now, she isn't wearing any makeup, and she is simply beautiful.

She pulls the door open, walks through, and a warm fuzzy feeling spreads over me.

Immediately, our eyes lock, and the intensity between us sparks. She looks me up and down as she walks up. Noticing the fact that I'm not in my flight suit and enjoying the view as much as I'm enjoying hers.

When she stops, I greet her with my player smile, knowing she knows how turned on I am just at the sight of her. "Hi."

Her beautiful smile and twinkling eyes tease me. "Hi there. Looks like you are heading out."

"That's affirmative. I have a friendly game of basketball with the bros on post." I look her up and down and state, "Looks like you had a good run. You look hot."

Her head tilts slightly with my words, registering that was a compliment rather than an observation.

So I continue, "You are in great shape. I bet you have great stamina." My sideways grin flirts with her. "Being a dancer."

She looks down, then into the lobby, then back at me, grinning, "I do."

Then she says, "I run at a pretty good clip for a girl too. I bet you couldn't run off and leave me." She punches my arm playfully, and when it bounces off because it's hard as hell, a flash of desire reveals itself in her eyes, and it lights me up.

I take a step toward her, wanting to pull her into my arms but only daring to capture her eyes. I assure her, "I would never run off and leave you."

All pretense of playfulness vanishes from her face as she feels my desire for her.

I lower my voice and let her know. "If you decide to … run ... with me, I promise to hang around."

My eyes bore into hers, trying to touch her heart and caress it with my sincerity while not overwhelming her with my dominance. She bites her bottom lip, and fucking hell, it turns me on even more.

Throwing caution to the wind, I ask, "Would you like to come?"

Her teasing eyes flash that she intends to cum, but then she quickly looks away and flirts. "Maybe next time."

* * *

Siri

* * *

Just then, two dudes with military haircuts dressed the same as he is, come in.

He gives me a sheepish smile as he nods his head in their direction. "My basketball, bros."

I laugh. "Obviously."

He chuckles as one of them calls him. "Moore. Bro! Come on."

He ignores them, giving me his undivided attention. "Would you like to come watch?"

The other dude says, "Oh, hell no! No bitches allowed. It's the only night I can get away from mine. Excuse me, ma'am. Nothing personal."

I look at the dude and smile. "It's all good."

Then I look back at Moore. "I can't tonight." Then turn to walk away.

He reaches out, stopping me. My skin sings from his touch.

The married bro hangs his head. "Shit. She wins. We might as well go wait in the car."

The other dude calls over his shoulder as the married dude leads him out. "Just because you resigned doesn't mean you aren't obligated anymore! The team still needs you!"

I laugh at them.

Moore strokes my arm with his thumb, and goosebumps pop out. I look back at him. His eyes are asking me to come, but I tell him. "I'll take a raincheck."

"That is two, right? The first one is the bottle of wine and now this one."

I grin at him, knowing he wants to be with me as much as I want to be with him. "Yeah. Two rainchecks."

He grins back, lets my arm go, and stands there watching me walk to the elevator.

As I reach out to hit the up button, I hear him.

"Hey, Wright."

I turn back to look at him, grinning. "Yes, Moore?"

"That's an awesome ride you drive."

My eyes twinkle, and I'm pleased he recognized I drive a Ford Shelby GT500. I tease him. "I will take you for a wild ride sometime."

"I bet you will … Wild Thang."

That makes me laugh out loud. He is fucking funny too. "Your ride is pretty spectacular as well. Raptors are real 'man' trucks."

The elevator doors open, and I back in, glance down and hit #9. When I look back up, his eyes grab and hold mine, and he tells me. "I will give you the ride of your life."

Oh, baby! The world shrinks to his piercing eyes as the doors close. In the shrinking span, I assure him. "I'm going to hold you to that."

"Ciao." He gives me a head nod.

"See ya!" I give him a twinkling finger wave, and his big beautiful smile is the last thing I see.

The doors close, and happiness explodes within me. I lean on the back wall rolling my eyes and holding my heart. "This is crazy! I've got to text Cat and tell her everything."

In my apartment, I head first for the shower. When I'm finished, I examine my body for the millionth time in the full-length mirror. It is a necessary part of being a dancer and performer.

I hear Cat's voice as she tells her dancers. "Your body is your money maker. You have to examine it regularly."

I stare at my reflection. I'm petite, and while that is unacceptable in most modeling circles, it is perfect for the entertainment role.

James, my show's producer, assured me when I started performing as an impersonator.

"It's easy to make yourself appear taller or heavier, but it's next to impossible to make yourself appear shorter and thinner. We can make you anyone you want to be with the right makeup, wig, and props, but you have to make everyone believe it."

I asked, "But what about my big boobs? How do you make them appear smaller?"

Cat chimed in, "Don't be silly, Siri! Everyone wants beautiful tits like yours. They stay real. The natural movement is something money can't buy and always, always draws the attention of a man's eye."

She lectures all her dancers, "Men don't want to see a hard, lean bodybuilder on a pole. They want to see a curvy girl. They like stacked and packed!"

If I'm in the room, she grabs my tits, shoves them up at "stacked," then spins me around to swat my ass at "packed," and everyone laughs.

Walking into my bedroom, I pick up my iPhone, plop on my bed, and text Cat.

Hey, Lady. Met a guy. A fucking fine feast! Can't breathe around him.

She doesn't respond immediately, so I roll on my back, stretch my arms over my head and wait.

She is probably at the bar checking the liqueur levels about now.

Then she will do a quick headcount backstage to see which dancers are warming up.

She will check her text in-between to see if anyone is calling in sick.

I sigh. I miss that lifestyle, but it has been good to get away. I feel rejuvenated. Rested, but I'm ready to return.

My iPhone rings. "Brick House" by the Commodores plays. It's Cat.

Hey baby girl! You met a man?

OMG! Yes! He is absolutely gorgeous! I am so excited.

That is dope! How?

He moved into my apartment building.

Sweet and convenient! :) What does he do?

Army Aviator. A helicopter pilot.

Cool! Have you hooked up yet?