Page 9 of Vicious Arrangement (Alpha Billionaire Daddies #7)

Chapter Nine

NOAH

A few hours later, toasty and buzzed, Asher ends the so-called celebrations.

“Gotta get Joshy from daycare. Shit. Am I drunk? Am I bad parent?”

“Where’s daycare?”

“It’s not far, and we live on Leonard,” he says.

“I’m the most sober,” Katie says, sending eye daggers at her friend, who snickers, and I find myself grinning.

“We’ll Uber, I’ll be your assistant, and you stay in the car, wave, and Josh will come on out.

” She pulls out mints. “Or we all have mints and just go. Then I drop you guys off, and I go home to Greenpoint.”

They argue all through their goodbyes and when they go, I pay the check, then I look at Aria, my bride. Who looks like a bride. The world’s hottest bride.

Fuck. People are coming in, looking at us like we’re some living insta photo—I’ve heard I’ve starred in a few, but I don’t really bother with social media. So I call a car, it’ll be the one we took here as he’ll wait around for me… after all he’s on the payroll, and waiting and driving is his job.

“I’ll take you home.”

For a moment, I think she’s going to argue, but she doesn’t. Aria rises, brushing against me, and it’s like a thousand fireflies spark in my flesh.

“Whoa.” She wobbles. “I had more to drink than I thought.”

I rise too, and slip my hand under her arm, ignoring the phones that point our way. She doesn’t even notice them. Someone’s probably recognized me. Others think this is good fodder for their socials, one of those “In New York” accounts my assistant talks about.

“You had less to eat than you thought, too. The waiter took most of your meal away.”

I did the same. Picking at all our starters and shared small plates seemed easier than a full meal when it finally got ordered about three hours in.

Besides, the booze did the job. Champagne, cocktails, and a couple of shots could fool anyone into feeling full.

That, and sitting so close to a woman with one hell of a pair of tits she criminally seems to cover up most of the time.

Not gonna lie, I’ve been wanting to touch and lick them all day.

“I didn’t want to ruin the dress.”

“Planning on getting married again?”

“Probably not. You’ll no doubt turn me off the whole thing when this ends.”

I laugh and lead her out, my arm around her now. “I love it when you talk dirty. We both know when it ends, you’ll fight tooth and nail to keep a man like you.”

“Arrogant, big-headed?—”

“You said it,” I say, “not me.”

“An asshole.”

I pull her into the car, and get in, and we go nowhere.

“You have to let him know your address.”

She narrows her eyes and gives it.

“Hells Kitchen?”

“Sorry I’m not rich and living in some five-story apartment penthouse overlooking Central Park. Shit, you’re probably in one of those insane two hundred million dollar places. There’s one with a ball room. I bet you own that.”

“I live in SoHo. It’s only a duplex.”

“Only?” she asks. “Annulment, stat.”

This time I burst out laughing. Fuck, I like her.

She’s unlike any woman I’ve met. She’s got to have wealth of her own…

maybe not like me, but enough to live well and probably not work or do a rich girl job, like so many of the ones I’ve fucked.

Fashionistas, influencers. Charity moguls…

whatever they are. I’ve slept with career women, too.

But this one…

Is different.

Not that I’ve slept with her.

But yeah, she’s chosen to be a nurse. She disparages wealth, and I’m betting the hot wedding dress is off the rack and not one of those speed bespoke dresses.

I’ve had speed bespoke suits before, when I’ve needed one almost the same day.

Know the right people in Chinatown, and they’ll do it, and they’re every bit as good as some of the world-class tailors.

I digress. I’m tipsy. I’m not thinking straight.

She’s utterly fascinating, beautiful, smart, funny, and has a bite to her I find refreshing.

Aria’s not out to please me. At all.

When we pull up outside her apartment building, there’s no elevator. It’s four stories up and as she fumbles in the bag her friend had held for her during most of the day, she looks for her keys. “Where are they?”

“Let me see?”

“No, I can do it,” she snaps.

I grin. “But I’m very competent.”

“No girl wants to hear a man’s ‘very competent’,” she says, the innuendo clear, even if she doesn’t realize just how she’s contradicting herself and her crap about me being a full-of-it, arrogant asshole.

“Give me the bag.” I take hold.

And she pushes me, hand planted on my chest. “No.”

I take her hand and walk her back to her door. “Yes.”

I hear a clink and she says, “Got them.”

“Only because you don’t play fair,” I say, taking them as she pulls them out. I manage to get the key on the first try and turn the lock. “Pure genius.”

“Where?”

Fuck, she turns me on. A part of me’s aware I’m drunker than I thought. My brain’s not working as straight as it should, but she’s sexy as hell, and so pretty it breaks something inside.

I lock onto those dilated blue eyes and I close the gap between us. “Right here. See?”

Without a thought, I kiss her, brushing my lips over hers. She tastes like whiskey and a sweetness that’s got to be her. It’s dark and full of want, and a fire flares between us as I deepen the kiss.

Her mouth opens, and her soft little moan is pure fucking fuel. Our tongues touch and dance slowly, like they’re trying out new steps that immediately work.

She kisses me back, her slight reticence melting, and the kiss blooms into full hungry desire.

My higher brain shuts down, and I open her door, walking her in, not breaking the kiss. I close it and kiss her across the room. Then I break it.

“Bedroom?”

“I don’t?—”

“Have one? This is meant to be our wedding night.”

Her fingers are on my cock, massaging, makes me fall to pieces. I’m throbbing, so fucking hard now it hurts, and she’s fucking working me through my clothes.

“Back there.”

I grab her, throw her over my shoulder, and glance around.

There’s a blob in one corner, probably a floor cushion, one of those big ones, but the living room won’t do.

I stalk through to where I spy the corner of a bed and throw her on it.

I lift the dress, and I know this isn’t going to be soft and gentle.

She’s dragging my face down, kissing me, and one hand starts attacking my pants, undoing them so she can touch my flesh.

We can do it slow later, I can fucking tie her down and explore her if I want, but as I stroke up her thighs against her panties, I need her. She’s fucking soaked.

I pull them to one side and plunge two fingers into her tight heat.

She arches her back, hisses, “Yes!”

And oh fuck, I’m not going to make it if she keeps up the pull and stroke of my cock. Her pressure’s perfect, her fingers don’t quite reach around and she’s also playing with the head and the precum there.

Touching her is like a religious experience, the velvet wetness that special heat, the way she ripples a little against my fingers as I curve them with each thrust, stroking over her G-spot.

Her gasps and little sounds of surprise stroke my dick, making it harder, making it thicker, like someone’s stuffed steel in me. I’m that hard.

Every part of me is like an addict, jonesing for more, for a taste of something I haven’t had, something that I instinctively know will be better than any other hit, any other fuck in my life.

I move my mouth from hers, driven by something urgent, something wild, to mark her as mine. To sink my teeth into her like I can sear a claim into her, a special tattoo built of lust and a chemistry the likes I’ve never known.

This shouldn’t be this good.

Yeah, I’m drunk, and so is she, but she’s as driven as me. The urge to touch and fuck, rough and fast is in us both. Her fingers shake as she jerks me, smearing precum on her hand to add a little slick to the drag.

I slide over her clit with my thumb as I bite her bottom lip, going in for another taste before kissing my way down her throat, finding all the delicate and delicious spots. I tongue her jugular, pushing with my tongue to drink in the erratic thunder of blood through it.

She smells so good, the gardenias seduce me, the spice behind the woody undertone drives my libido impossibly higher, and I drop kissing bites along the length of her throat.

Then I find a spot. I push into her, up, curving my fingers to taunt her as I rub inside, and I sink my teeth in, thumb swirling over her clit.

The spasm that hits is deep and sudden, and she cries out, and I end it, slowing my fingers, sucking on the bite.

But I need more. I need her.

I push her thighs apart with my free hand, and then, pulling her hand off me, I pull out my fingers, pushing her panties to the side and I thrust into her.

She stretches, and I push home. Shuddering.

“Oh, god! So fucking good.”

Her words swim through me like music and I pull almost out.

Then I thrust into her, over and over. She’s tight, welcoming, slick.

Her cunt clutches at me, sucks, and I’m barely holding on.

I kiss her hard, wanting her breasts, wanting her mouth more, and I move a hand between us and begin to stroke her clit.

With each thrust, she raises her hips to meet me, and I’m finding it hard not to just unload. But I want her to come again. Come properly.

So I keep up the rough and measured strokes on her clit, I keep the thrusts into her hard, long, deep. And she teeters. Her fingers clench at me. Her legs wrap about my hips and her moans and gasps go from music to beautiful chaos.

Then it happens.

Her body tightens. Her cunt squeezes my cock, and I lift my head to look at her.

Our eyes lock, and I press down on her clit.

She comes, spasming around me, her face complete joy and pleasure as she orgasms around me, each clench hard enough to rock my world and make me grit my teeth because I want her pleasure first, and she’s making it so fucking hard.

But her final cry reverberates, and she starts the secondary throbs of her orgasm. I finally give in to the urge to come, and it burns down my spine, up through my tight balls and along my shaft where I twitch and come, filling her.

And it’s fucking beyond insane. It’s divine. Pure, wonderful release and ecstasy.

“Oh my god…” she whispers, slurring. “That was… wow.”

Wow indeed.

She gives me a small push, and I roll off, tucking myself away.

Aria’s eyes are shut, and she turns, but I know she’s awake. Is she waiting for me to… what?

For the first time in my life, I don’t know what to do.

There are times when it’s done, some small talk is exchanged and we part ways. Other times I hold the woman, or I fall asleep for a while.

There’ve been so many scenarios.

But I’ve never encountered whatever this… is.

And I don’t know what the fuck to do.

I get up and look at her. “Aria?”

But she doesn’t answer. I stand there, like a fool.

After a minute, I turn and use her bathroom that’s across from the bedroom.

When I return, she’s curled, asleep this time, and I…

Yeah. I don’t know what to do.

I’m still fucking dressed. Shoes on. So I decide to go. Need to, anyway.

This shouldn’t have happened, and I shouldn’t want it again, longer, slower, dirtier.

Fuck.

I start to sneak out, my hand fumbling for the door handle in the darkened living room when something big rushes at me and knocks me down.

“What the actual fuck?”

The thing growls and lights up the night with a series of ferocious barks.

Fuck me.

It’s that fucking giant floor cushion. And it barks and growls.

A light blooms on.

No. It’s a giant ass brown dog who wants to eat my liver for lunch.

“Angus, good dog,” Aria calls out. “Good guard dog, good baby.”

Good? Baby? I pick myself up as Angus the giant dog rushes to her and jumps up on her, his tail wagging furiously.

“What is that?”

“Angus. He must’ve thought you were an intruder,” she says, rubbing the hell hound’s ears and petting him. “Didn’t you? Yes, you did.”

“Your… dog?” My disdain shines. “Of course you have that as a dog. Makes perfect sense.”

The dog growls, and she glares. Shit, I figured her dog was something small, cute-ugly, girly.

A poodle, or teacup chihuahua, or a yorkie. Not a fucking horse.

I point at it. “There’s no way that thing’s coming to my duplex.” It’s white and cream. The dog is chocolate brown. It’ll leave fur everywhere. And paw prints. And eat things. Fuck.

Aria’s eyes narrow, a protective arm around the savage beast. “Then I’m not coming either.”

“Fine.” I grit my teeth. She’s stubborn. It annoys the hell out of me and turns me on. “But he sleeps outside in my outdoor space. Got it?”

Aria smiles. “Got it.”