Billionaire Romance: Club Billionaire (The Complete Series) by Lexi Duval Read Free Book Online Page B

passing from group to group, fetching glasses and bottles,
clearing tables, taking orders where necessary. I keep my eyes on
Kyle, though, who continues his evening as if our meet never took
place. When the Brazilian waitress with the perfect cunt passes by,
their eyes lock in the briefest moment of lust.
    A searing jolt of jealousy rocks through me.
    “ Well well, Betty, isn't it?”
    I turn, and lock eyes with the surfer boy billionaire
from the other night.
    “ Belle, actually,” I correct him.
    “ Ah, my mistake.” He ogles my ass and lets his eyes
run up my body, stopping for a few long moments on my tits. I can do
nothing but stand there, waiting to be dismissed.
    Don't walk away, Belle.
    “ You know,” he continues once his eyes have finally
returned to mine, “you're just my type. How tall are you, without
those heels on?”
    “ About 5'3''.”
    “ Perfect. Short girls are the best. They're easier to
fling around. I'm going to be busy for the next hour but, after that
I think we should spend some time together.”
    It's not an offer.
    I don't reply.
    “ Would you like that?”
    I don't know what to say. Over his shoulder, I find
Kyle, who's staring at me, his face crinkled with displeasure. The
Brazilian girl is next to him, dropping a glass of whiskey into his
hand, her breasts heaving out as she bends down.
    I turn my eyes back to the blue-eyed surfer boy. “Sure,”
I say. “You're the boss.”
    My words seem to please him, turn the corners of his
mouth up into a smirk.
    “ Room number TWO, one hour,” he says with one more
glance over me.
    And then he's gone.
    I look at Kyle again, who's turned his eyes away and has
seemingly forgotten about me. Well, two can play at that game,
Kyle.
    The next hour passes by in a flurry or nerves. The role
I'm acting down here has suddenly become real, and I'm nearing a line
that I don't really want to cross. Kyle was one thing. A dream, the
sort of guy any girl or woman would fall for with nothing but a
protracted look or a quick smile. The sort of guy who could bed
virgins and long time married women alike. The sort of man no one
says no to.
    Billionaire surfer boy isn't like that. Everything about
him screams insecure. The way he speaks, what he says, the manner in
which he conducts himself. He's younger than Kyle, sure, but carries
none of his poise. He's little more than an uber rich, uber spoiled
son of a billionaire, the sort born to wealth but with no discernible
skills or abilities. Nothing that would have brought him riches had
he been forced to start over.
    I know, from the
limited amount I've found on Kyle Lawson online, that he's largely
self-made. That his family fortune was paltry compared to what it is
now before he came of age and joined the family business. That was
after college – which he attended early – when he was only 19
years of age. A business prodigy in the truest form, he'd taken his
family from less than 200 million to 10 billion in the space of only
ten years.
    But it's not only that. Kyle is a man; this blond
headed, blue eyed jock is nothing more than a boy. Fresh out of
college, still living the party life, and with little to no
experience of the real world. He's pretty but not handsome. Soft, not
hard. Average height and tanned like a beach bum, not tall, dark, and
mysterious.
    In short, the kid's not sexy. Not by a long shot.
    The minutes tick, and my resolve weakens. With only ten
minutes to go, I find myself hiding in the bar room, contemplating
making a run for the elevator. I make a strong gin and tonic, sink it
down, and find that my hands are shaking as I drop the glass to the
counter.
    The sound of the door opening draws my eyes, and I turn,
hoping to see Kyle standing there. Hoping he'll somehow be able to
offer me a way out. It's not Kyle. It's Alice, trotting in with the
smile on her face and her hair flowing behind her.
    She immediately notices the look on my face, the empty
glass still clutched in my hand.
    “