Dirty Rumor: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance(20)

“Are you sure?” she asks, nuzzling up to me.

Then, “Listen, you’re sexy as hell,” she says, rolling her hips against mine. I can’t seem to get a sense of the beat—the music has turned into a kind of hellish noise—but my legs won’t work. I have to get away from this bitch, but I can’t. “I can’t blame you for wanting to be free. But we’re all wondering what you did to her. Just tell me.”

I’m looking for an escape—any escape—and when I turn my head, I’m looking at a f*cking angel. Carolyn is two feet away from us and closing in fast, and before the redhead can say another word, Carolyn’s hand is on my arm and she’s glaring into the other woman’s eyes. “Excuse me,” she shouts over the music. “I’m stepping in for this dance.”

The redhead’s jaw drops and her eyes cut from Carolyn to me, then back to Carolyn, who straightens her shoulders.

I expect an argument, get ready to take Carolyn’s arm and lead her off the dance floor, out the side exit and take her…anywhere. Anywhere, as long as I’m next to her.

But the redhead spins on her heel and rushes off through the crowd without another word.

Carolyn turns toward me, her eyes sparkling. “I don’t think so,” she shouts.

I shake my head. What is she talking about?

“You’re not going to look at me like that and then go dance with another woman. Not a chance.”

I laugh out loud. For the first time in my life, I’m standing on the dance floor with a woman who shares my attitude about getting what I want. “Prove it.”

In answer, Carolyn puts her hands on my shoulders, then starts to move with the music, her hips swaying, her dress giving me a tantalizing hint of what’s underneath. When she turns around, the curve of her ass brushing against the front of my pants, moving with the beat, I almost ask her to marry me right then.

A painful stab of regret stops the words at my lips. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it f*cking right. My way. And that’s going to involve some planning, if the news is already spreading through New York City. Carolyn could find out from anyone.

The more she dances, the less I can play it cool. By the time she takes my hand in hers and tugs me away from the dance floor and back toward the table, I’m on fire with need for her. The sight of her pink cheeks, flushed from the dancing and flirting, just about pushes me over the edge.

I resist the instinct to wrap my arm around her shoulders and kiss her temple. Despite the heat between us while we were dancing, I’m not going to lose control in front of everyone else at the table. Let them think what they damn well please.

I’m busy preparing myself to sit back down with all of Carolyn’s friends and order another round of drinks when she stops dead in her tracks, halfway between the dance floor and the table.

“Let’s get out of here.”

My heart flips over, and I give her my most charming smile. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Carolyn’s eyes are huge and dark, and her mouth is set. “Yes.”

She spins around, putting her arm through mine, and takes us directly back through the dance floor, leading me through the crowd with precision and focus. Halfway to the stage, she takes a hard right, sliding between couples that are so into the music they barely notice us. I can’t wipe the damn smile off my face. We’re ghosting out of this party, and I f*cking love it.

I reach for my phone and almost drop it when Carolyn picks up speed as we leave the dance floor. The text I send Noah is a garbled mess, but I’m sure as hell not going to stop her right now so that I can send a perfect message to my driver.

Carolyn takes another turn into a narrower hallway, me close behind, nearly blinded by the sight of her ass swaying underneath that dress, and then she’s pushing a door open with all the force she can muster. We burst out onto the sidewalk right as Noah pulls up in the Bentley. Nobody’s lurking out here, and it’s a clear path to my car.

We’re almost home free.





Chapter 19

Carolyn





We’re outside my building—our building, now—when my phone starts buzzing and won’t stop.

Ace has been kissing slowly down my neck the entire time we’ve been driving and his lips on my skin are so hot and sensual that it makes my entire body hum with electricity, trembling even though his arms are wrapped relatively chastely around my waist. I’m soaked anyway and my knees keep inching apart, subtly begging for him to f*ck me.

“Somebody wants you,” he murmurs into the hollow of my shoulder.

I give a sultry laugh. “Then let me out so we can go inside.”

“No—somebody really wants your attention,” he says, and I realize that my phone is vibrating nonstop in my purse.

I want to reach inside and silence it without even looking at it, but something pricks at the back of my neck. When Ace leans over to open the door and step outside, I take my phone out.

The screen is crowded with notifications, and they’re all from Rainflower Blue.

I normally don’t have updates sent to my phone. It’s too much of a risk—what if other people saw it? It’s best if nobody knows I have any connection to the website at all, although I know many of my friends are on it. Not one of them has hinted about its existence to me so far, which is something I wonder about when I’m trying to sleep at night. Do they think I’m too naive to enjoy a website like that? Too nice? Being an excellent friend is a top priority of mine—it’s half the reason I have the website in the first place—but maybe I’ve been too sweet.