Chapter 11
Eleven
REGINA
It’s as if I’m on a rollercoaster, and the moment it’s ended, we start up again.
Tonight has been a lot and yet this, kissing a man like Nico Ravera like naughty kids behind the bike sheds, is an absolute pleasure.
I have never had so much pleasure in my life, and I could kiss this man all night.
I mean, he is seriously sexy. Sex on legs even.
If I could have typed in my description to AI and it spilled him out, he would be everything I had ever wanted.
His kiss is good too. Deep and sexy with just the right amount of tongue.
I am already moving past the kissing rule and up for negotiating the next base with him.
He is everything, all-consuming and the perfect magic eraser to eradicate the image of the cheater that went before him.
Connor who? Do I know a man of that name?
This is the night of my dreams and the start of my new power-fueled life, and I can’t believe my luck.
Nico pulls back, and I gasp, “Wow.”
He smirks. “So we have a deal.”
“We do.”
I smile as his hand grips mine and he whispers, “We should head back. I am here on business, no matter how delightful this has been.”
“Business. Of course.”
I wink. “It appears that I am here on business too. I agree to your terms.”
He shakes his head, an arrogant smirk on his face, and as we move back into view of the room, I don’t miss the curious stares that follow our progress.
We reach the booth, and Alyssia smiles. “You were gone for ages. I don’t suppose you fancy grabbing some food with me. Trent is okay with that.” She nods toward Nico’s assistant, at least that’s what I think he is.
“I–”
Nico cuts me off. “We will order food to be delivered. Regina will not be leaving my side tonight.”
Alyssia shakes her head, a faint smile on her lips, and as she turns to Trent and whispers something in his ear, I notice his hand grips her knee a little harder.
True to his word, Nico orders enough food to feed half of the ballroom, and as I sample the most amazing cuisine, I am desperate to film it for my vlog.
I lean across and whisper, “I don’t suppose I can film this food for my business.”
“No, you cannot.”
His response is abrupt, and I take a moment to process that before trying again.
“I mean, I wouldn’t get anyone’s face in the picture. Just the food.”
“No filming.”
He turns to speak to one of his security guards, and I stare at the food, wondering what’s so bad about filming it.
I’m guessing it wouldn’t look good on him, and I kind of understand that.
Obviously, he’s a powerful man, and his companion filming the food would lower his position, so I force down my disappointment and select another canapé instead.
Alyssia is now fully concentrating on Trent, who is focusing half of his attention on her and the other half on business. Nico, however, is now firmly focused on business, and the endless stream of visitors to our table makes for a very boring evening.
I want to call Quincy so badly, and during a break in visitors, I whisper, “Can I call my friend? She will be expecting it because she’s my ride home tonight.”
“You have a room, so there is no need to return home.”
“Since when?”
My eyes widen, and he says in his deep, sexy voice, “The penthouse. There is no need to leave this building tonight.”
“Really?” My face must light up because his expression softens and he whispers in my ear, “I want to kiss you so badly but it would be bad for my image.”
“What if I kiss you?” I whisper back, and he chuckles softly.
“That wouldn’t be so bad.”
This time, I reach out and cup his face between my hands and kiss him.
Softly, lingering and deliciously decadent and as my tongue searches for his, a small moan of pleasure escapes me.
I am delirious with desire for this man, and I can’t believe how much I’ve changed.
I didn’t want to kiss Connor, not like this, and if anything, he is right.
We were more like friends than lovers. To be honest, I can’t remember the last time we did have sex. That is how memorable it was.
Wait—why am I thinking about sex already?
You were from the moment you met him.
My inner voice reminds me that, for some reason, some men invoke that reaction with just one look at them.
Nico is that man. The one women drool over as they consume coffee and cake. The untouchable superstar that is in every woman’s dreams but not their reality. Is it any wonder I am now a super slut where he is concerned, and now we have a room for the night, I’m not wasting a moment of it.
We are interrupted by yet another visitor, and as he turns his attention to them, I slip my phone out of my purse, intending on calling Quincy. My finger hovers over FaceTime, and with a sigh, I dash out a text instead.
Change of plan. I have a room here tonight. The freaking penthouse, no less.
She messages back almost instantly.
With him?
I don’t know about that, but he’s offered it to me. Can Aston pick me up after breakfast?
Of course. You are a lucky bitch, Reggie. I want photos, details and videos. You owe me.
Consider it done
I slip the phone back into my purse with a warm glow inside. My evening isn’t going to be over anytime soon, and if anything, it’s only just begun.
Business sucks. It merely gets in the way of an otherwise enjoyable evening.
I’m stuffed full of canapés and similar and drunk on champagne and desire.
I’m super bored though because Nico is relentless with his business, and we are missing out on an exceptional evening.
Alyssia and Trent are happily chatting, and it appears that Trent’s only business tonight is keeping her happy and a watchful eye on his boss.
At least I think he is, and all he apparently does is gesture to the strange men who loiter on the edge of the group, whispering in their ears as they head off to do God knows what.
I gaze out of our protective circle at the more fortunate.
Beautiful women dancing with handsome men, dressed in gorgeous dresses as they twirl around the dance floor.
I amuse myself by giggling at the not so beautiful, attempting to whirl their partners around, possibly not having practiced the art of dance.
I almost jump out of my dress when Nico’s hand rubs my back with slow, steady strokes and he leans in and whispers, “Would you like to dance, baby girl?”
“With you?” My heart jump starts at the mere mention of that, and his eyes swirl with darkness as he nods.
“Always with me.”
“Okay.”
I make to stand before he can change his mind, and as his hand slips into mine, I love the sense of ownership in his dark gaze. There is something so devastatingly wicked about this man, and I am only just realizing I have a type. Him.
The rope parts as if by magic, and as we step onto the dance floor, he pulls me into his arms, my head resting naturally on his chest. His hand pressed against my back, anchoring me in place, up close, and personal.
His scent is toxic energy, and I am drowning in my lust for him. I am being consumed by this man, and rational thought is now firmly in the past because he is now controlling me like his puppet, and I am more than happy about that.