Page 7 of Forbidden Billionaires: Vol. 10
The guy stroked his chin dramatically. "I can't remember." He pulled his towel off and put his leg up on a bench to give Kristen and me a perfect view of his penis dangling between his legs. "But maybe you could do something to make me remember."
I put my hand out to block my view of it. "Dude, gross."
"Hey, you're the ones who came into the men's locker room. I'm just trying to get changed."
"Uh, yeah. I'm not going to blow you just to get my friend's phone back. Anyway, your penis is kinda small." Kristen grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the locker room as all the other guys laughed.
When we were safely back in the hall, I turned to Kristen. "So how do we find my phone now?"
"It sounds like some guy named Bryce has it. How many athletes here can be named Bryce? If we search for Bryce in a list of athletes, I'm sure we can narrow it down to two or three guys."
"Good idea. We'll have to do that later though. I've gotta go get ready for dinner with Chris."
Going For Gold - Chapter 3
Saturday
Alina
Chris was waiting for me in the village square, an area in the middle of the athletes' village featuring a fountain sculpture of a soccer player. It was surrounded by benches and places for athletes to get free food. He looked amazing, as always, in a slim fit, shiny gray suit. Even though he could pull off a swim cap, I always thought he looked the best when he was dressed up. His brown hair was still wet. It looked like he had just ran his hand through it, because it was sticking up in that sexy way I liked so much.
"You look incredible," he said, staring right at my cleavage. I would have preferred he looked at my face after I spent thirty minutes on my makeup, but I couldn't blame him for focusing on my breasts. After all, I had worn my nicest pushup bra and a low cut dress.
"You too. So where do you want to eat, Mr. Gold Medalist?"
"I don't know. So many options." He looked around. Pizza, fast food, Chinese, Mexican. The junk food options were endless, which seemed crazy in a place full of athletes that should have only been eating healthy food. "Let's grab some pizza so we can eat it while we walk."
"Walk? Where are we going?" I kind of expected he would want to go to a fancy restaurant outside of the village. A nice romantic dinner apparently wasn't what he had in mind though.
"I heard Sword Body Wash is hosting a party at Club Blue over by the water."
"Oh, okay." I wasn't a big fan of parties. I found them sweaty and crowded and gross. But if that was what Chris wanted to do to celebrate winning gold, I wasn't going to argue. This was his big night. "Pizza and a party it is."
We walked over and ordered some pizza. It was cheesy and delicious and everything I had been craving during the past few months of training. Well, noteverything.I was really craving some sex, but I had decided I couldn't risk Coach finding out and benching me. Eating pizza and going to a party would have to be enough for Chris until the volleyball finals were over.
"So why weren't you answering my texts?" asked Chris as we walked and ate. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to show."
"Oh, was I late? Sorry, I lost my phone earlier. And I didn't account for the fact that wearing these damn shoes would slow me down so much." I pointed at my black stilettos.
"Well, I'm never going to complain about you being late because of those." He slowed his pace to let me get a few steps ahead of him. "They make your ass look so good."
"That's exactly why I wore them." I looked back at him with a seductive smile and made sure to shake my ass as much as possible as we approached Club Blue.
The club looked insane. We were still at least 30 yards away from the building, but I could already feel the ground vibrating fromthe music. There were neon lights everywhere and a line snaked around the side of the building.
"You really want to celebrate by waiting in that line?" I asked.
"No way. A hot girl and a gold medalist? They'll let us right in."
We walked right up to the two gigantic Brazilian men dressed in jeans, black T-shirts, and sunglasses positioned at the entrance to Club Blue. One of them stuck his beefy arm out to block the door as the other one looked me up and down.
"Go ahead," said the bouncer to me in a thick accent. Then he turned to Chris and pointed to the back of the line. "You wait."
Chris opened up his suit jacket to reveal the gold medal around his neck. The bouncers immediately waved us through.
When I saw the inside of the club, I kind of wished they hadn't let us in.
The club consisted of a dance floor in the middle filled with sweaty people and more foam than a professionally drawn bubble bath at a five-star hotel. In the front, a DJ with crazy dreadlocks spun records while girls in bikinis and neon colored boots danced in cages on either side of him. The bar to the left was manned by tan men in bike shorts covered in far more oil than could ever be considered appropriate, while the bar on the opposite side of the club was operated by girls dressed just as slutty as their male counterparts.
