Billion Dollar Bad Boy (Big City Billionaires)(40)

She handed it over, taking Silver's cash. It was soft and thick, better quality than I expected, considering it was an airport sweater. “Do you like it?” he asked.

Smiling, I hugged it tight. “Call me cheesy, but I kind of do.”

“Put it on.”

“What, right now?”

His eyes glinted, and I thought he couldn't have been more serious. Chewing the side of my mouth, I pulled it over my head, messing up my hair.

Tilting his head, he peered at me. “How do you look amazing in everything you put on?”

“Stop it,” I said, blushing hotter. I saw myself in a window, and I wondered what he was seeing, because I just looked like I'd flown for several hours and needed some caffeine.

His fingers slid into mine, holding tight. “Come on, let's get to my place.”

Sinking into the sensation of his touch, I followed at his side.

The taxi ride was smooth, and while I boggled out the window at the palm trees and buildings, Silver never let go of my hand. Once, he pulled me close, kissing me without a care that our driver was watching.

He held on all the way until we pulled up outside of a bright white condo, and it was only because he needed both hands to gather his suitcase and the shopping bag we'd brought from the lingerie store.

“This is gorgeous,” I said, once we'd arrived on his floor. I spun so I could see every angle; it was even bigger than the place he had in Portland. It also looked more modern, everything sort of minimized—the chairs, the glass tables, the ceramic bar.

“I'm glad you like it. I haven't been back for a month, it's good to see everything is still here.” His chuckle said he didn't really expect someone would rob him. And, considering the security in the lobby, why would he?

“Want a drink before we go out?”

“Just where are we going?” I asked, stopping to squint at him. “I didn't bring much to wear besides all that lingerie.”

I'd meant it as a joke, but his sharp smirk made me pause. “You could wear one of those outfits and get away with it. But I've got something on hand that will work.”

“'On hand?'” I repeated. Silver headed to one side of the giant room, crossing the wide window view of LA that some people would kill for. Kneeling by the suitcase he'd packed in his car, he dug inside.

In a flash of fabric, he yanked a black dress into view.

Covering my mouth, I swayed close enough to see the outfit. “Why do you have that?”

“It doesn't matter.” He stood, offering it to me.

In wonderment, I ran my fingers over the the dress, but I didn't take it. “It does matter. When did you pack this?”

He said, “When I decided last night that I'd convince you to come to LA with me.”

Amazed, I started to close my grip on the black dress's hem—then I stopped. “We're not going to a funeral, are we?”

Cracking a smile, he shrugged. “If we were, you'd look incredibly stunning.”

“I'm sure the grieving family would appreciate that,” I teased. Gently, I looped it over my arms. “Okay, so I've got a dress. What about—”

“Shoes?” He nodded downwards, and I followed his eyes to spot a pair of glossy heels in the bottom of the suitcase.

Just how far ahead had he planned our evening?

Is he planning beyond that? I suddenly wondered.

Shaking myself, I grabbed the shoes and cradled everything in my arms. “I guess I'll get ready for... whatever you've got in mind.”

He smiled so hard that his eyes crinkled on the edges.

****

I'd never seen anything like Hollywood at night.

It was everything I'd ever dreamed of.

“You're going to fall out the window,” Silver said, chuckling.

He was driving a convertible—another car he owned that stayed in LA—and I'd insisted the top stay down. My hair was tangling over my face, but with the taste of the wild night life on my tongue, I didn't care.

Silver pulled down an alley, parking on a quiet street. We were surrounded by graffiti and the air lost its exciting energy, replaced by garbage. Even so, I noticed many of the other cars in front of meters were as expensive as Silver's.

Taking my arm, he helped me down the sloped sidewalk. There was no line in front of the barely lit entrance. A man who looked weirdly like the man who'd checked my name off at the Red and Ripe sat in a rusted chair.

With a quick glance at Silver, he nodded for us to go inside. I'd expected him to ask our names, but maybe he didn't need to. Or maybe he knew who Silver was? Eyeing him, I was blinded by darkness as we passed through a hallway.

“Are you ready?” he asked, pulling up short in front of a black door.

Laughing, I looped my arm with his. “Do you honestly expect me to turn back now?”

Winking, he let me inside.

Hanging from the ceiling were giant cages. Gold and opal, they shimmered under the circles of lights overhead. That was majestic enough, but it was the contents of the cages that took my breath away.

Women. Real, actual live women. Flashes of color highlighted their nudity, white boots the only things they wore. Each of them swung and gyrated, and a few weren't alone behind their bars.

I had a clear shot of a man f*cking one of the dancer's doggy-style.