The Russian Billionaire’s Secret(36)

This is a work of fiction—although we wish that people like this really existed, it’s nothing more than a figment of a very, very overactive imagination. Any resemblance to someone you know, a place you love or a thing you hold dear to your heart is nothing more than a craving in your heart that these carnal desires and actions were true!

It goes without saying that this book oozes with erotic sex appeal, and is filled to the rafters with a smorgasbord of acts that you certainly wouldn’t tell your grandmother about. Bodice-ripping, panty-dropping and glasses-steaming, the scenes contained herein are wickedly naughty!

Although all the saucy characters are flirting with forbidden desires and sometimes taking the naughty fruit they really shouldn’t be, all are consenting adults over the age of 18 and not blood-related. What they are is passionate and eager to explore their carnal desires all day long.

In short, this book is going to get you very, very hot!

? Aisha Brooks

All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any many whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination. Please note that this work is intended only for adults age 18 and over. All characters represented are age 18 or over.

Table Of Contents

Chapter 1: Bruised Beginnings

Chapter 2: The Beginning Of A Future

Chapter 3: Preparation Before Success

Chapter 4: A Man With A Mission

Chapter 5: Building A Career

Chapter 6: More Than A Meal

Chapter 7: Foregoing Boundaries

Conclusion

Chapter 1

Bruised Beginnings

To grow up in the inner city of Chicago was a challenge for anyone, let alone for Alicia. Her mother had given birth to her at the age of 16, and then her two brothers, both of which Alicia had basically raised herself from a young age. Her mother, self-proclaimed as a “strong, independent female” had taught Alicia at a tender age that most people would be out to hurt her, cut her down, set her back; that it was up to her to make her own future and success.

With these words, she would leave their run-down and cramped apartment, barely enough space between the walls to breathe, going to either her waitressing job or, her night-time shift as a dancer.

When Alicia was little, she thought her mother was a ballerina when her mother had told her that she was a dancer. Many of her friends at school had mothers who worked at the same club as Alicia’s mother, dancing. She had always wondered how her mother could pirouette in the high-heels that she wore and short dresses, but to Alicia, she was the most beautiful woman in the world. Her skin was the color of sweet caramel, her hair thick and curly, the color of a Chicago’s winter night sky.

She had been discussing her mother in class one day, stating how proud she was that her mother was a dancer, when a classmate had budged in.

“Your mama ain’t no ballerina,”the classmate had snickered.

“She is so. She dances every night.”

“She dances at The Cougar, right?” Alicia paused.

“Yeah.”

“So does my mama. She ain’t no ballerina. She takes her clothes off and gets money.” Alicia had felt the words hit her like a punch in the gut.

When she had gotten home that day from school, she had fed her brothers a snack and waited patiently for her mom to get off her waitressing job before going to her nighttime shift at the club.

Yvette, a mix of Latina fury and African American thunder, came in, threw some burgers and fries on the table and turned to look at her three children.

“Alicia, you make sure your brothers get their homework done. And you too. How was that quiz on the States today?” Her mother could always remember every test, quiz, crush and parent-teacher call; her mind was a steal trap.

“It went good, mama.”

“It went well, sweetheart,” Yvette corrected. Her mother, an extremely bright woman who had been given no other choice than to drop out of high school in order to make money to raise and care for Alicia. Her high school dreams of going to college were diminished when the two pink lines became clear on the test, and then vanished when Yvette’s father had claimed she wasn’t his and walked out.

Her father had been the “most handsome black man I had ever seen”, her mother would tell her, and the start of their high school football team, but a “scoundrel who left us to the streets.”

“Mama, do you take her clothes off for money?” Alicia blurted out before her brothers came into the kitchen for dinner. Her mother turned, shocked and hurt, her eyes stating all the words she had yet to speak. She turned back to getting the plates for dinner.

“Alicia…”she began slowly, choosing her words carefully, “what I do is not admirable or fun, but I do it so that we can have a roof over our heads, food to eat, and so that you can have your school supplies. If you ever remember one thing I tell you in this world, my love, remember that your education will lead you outside of this world that we live in now. This is why I push you in school. You must live a life better that this. Remember that always. Promise?” she asked as she sat down and placed her daughter’s face in her hands. Her big browns eyes penetrated her own. Alicia nodded.