Page 50 of Contract of a Billionaire
“Fuck,” I grumbled. The message was from Father. What the fuck was he doing here?
There should be no reason for him to be here. I had businesses here, he didn’t. He barely held on to his connections in Montréal.
Ignoring his message, I got back to work. I’d be damned if I’d see him tonight. I’d be counting hours until tonight.
I’d be seeing my girl.
Chapter17
Autumn
The last two months were bliss.
It was time to admit it, I was in love with Alessandro Russo. Hard and fast. There was no turning back from it.
True to his word, Alessio met me almost every week.
Tousled sheets. Hands on skin. Glistening sweat.
A shudder rolled down my spine. Just thinking about him sent hot desire swimming through my veins. It had only been two weeks since I saw him and it felt like two years. I craved his touch every night and his smile every morning.
Every single country I had seen so far was incredible. Magical and beautiful. Because Alessandro Russo came. Even when he could only spend twenty-four hours with me, he made a long haul trip to come and see me. It was just us.
I had been busy with work, but on the weekends, he’d find a way to get to wherever we were and he’d spend time with his sister and me. But the nights were only for me.
There was nothing I loved more than watching Alessio undress as I sat on the edge of the bed. He’d unclasp that expensive, fancy watch and put it on the hotel dresser. Then his cufflinks would come next. Then his tie and I’d hold my breath as he’d work the knot loose. His strong fingers would start on his shirt buttons and it was usually where I’d cave and reach for him.
My movements weren’t as graceful as his. I’d fumble with the buttons, eager to see his abs. I’d press my mouth to his chest, skimming my lips over his skin. When I’d feel his scars, he no longer stiffened. I’d spend extra time on them, kissing them, licking them.
I loved him so fucking much that it borderline hurt. But it was a good kind of ache. So I let it hurt. I could feel his hands on me even now. His fingers fisted in my hair as I kissed a path over every inch of his skin. I’d work my way down lower and lower, until I’d take him in my mouth.
And seeing Alessandro unravel for me had become my newest addiction.
Right alongside the stolen moments we shared all over the world.
The two of us under a cherry blossom tree in Tokyo. The two of us in the Sydney Opera House. The two of us in Batu Caves, then eating at the Central Market in Kuala Lumpur surrounded by al fresco ambiance.
Ladies eyed him everywhere we went. But his eyes never wavered and remained on me. If I thought Alessio looked good in suits or jeans, it didn’t compare to the way he looked in black shorts and a white polo t-shirt. It highlighted his tall, muscular frame, gave hints to his bad boy vibes and tattoos hidden under that white polo.
No matter what he wore, he always finished the look with black aviator glasses.
I glanced around to ensure Branka hadn’t changed her mind and decided to follow me. She tended to disappear during our downtime. Probably playing matchmaker for everyone we met, but it worked out perfectly. It gave me more time with her brother. The rest of our working group stayed at another hotel. We had the luxury of staying here only thanks to Alessio.
A slither of guilt snaked through my veins. My parents still didn’t know. Neither did Branka. I should tell my best friend I was sleeping with her brother. Or dating. This was definitely dating. My lips curved into a soft smile. Who knew Alessio was the dating kind?
I rushed through the lobby of the Shangri-La Hotel in Abu Dhabi that buzzed with life. And so many different nationalities. It was like a mecca for people of various nationalities blending in. Some women covered their hair with hijab, others had it flowing. Some men wore traditional long kandura and ghutra while others wore suits.
I entered the elevator, excitement rising with each floor.Bing.Somewhere in the far corner of my mind, I realized music was playing. Soft elevator music.Bing.My lips curved into a soft smile.
The last time soft music played, Alessio and I danced on the streets of Kyoto in Japan. Maman always preached Paris was the city of love. To me it was Kyoto. Somewhere in the distance some traditional sad music played in soft tunes, but I had never been as happy as in that moment. The mountain landscape that surrounded the city washed the cobble streets in autumnal reds, yellows and oranges. We walked through the quiet streets, light drizzle covering our hair.
Alessio was so tall, his head brushed against some of the rooftops. The rain drizzled and the street was empty but the tunes played in perfect harmony with the rain. Before I knew it, my hands wrapped around Alessio’s waist and I made him dance. “For my Instagram picture,” I told him as I snapped a photo of our feet against the wet ground, autumn leaves, and cherry petals.
Bing.
It was for me. For us. He appeased me, our bodies slowly swaying. We danced as the raindrops rolled down his face and my heart shuddered with happiness.
Bing.I was on Alessio’s floor.
