The Deal with the Billionaire Devil

TARA

What the hell am I even doing here?

 I asked myself a couple of times the moment I walked inside the venue. First, this wasn’t my scene anymore. I left that life eons ago. Second, I felt too exposed even with the mask as everyone turned in my direction. Truth be told, it wasn’t my fault.

 Apparently, the woman behind me barely covered her chest, exposing her voluptuous, round breasts. I envied her, though, compared to my B-cup size. But you’d do anything for a cause, even if you had to sacrifice something, like leaving my couch and the show I was binge-watching. So here was I, trying to embarrass myself before these strangers.

 The ballroom was spectacularly decorated in white, gold, and black. The orchestra played classical music in the corner. 

Some people might find a masquerade ball boring, but the donations could make a difference, considering that climate change was a real threat to human existence. Thinking of the greenhouse gases and ocean heat at record highs, it should be scary.

 As waiters circulated with drinks and Hors d’oeuvres. I snatched a champagne flute from the waiter, sipping a little just to wet my throat. Some guests moved to the center and started dancing.

 Yes, I could dance, which had been taught since I was a kid, but I tried hard to avoid mingling. I knew one or two of my people were here to support the Habitat Restoration Fund.

 As I stepped back, I accidentally bumped into a huge tree that had me gasping. At least that was what I felt, but the tree, apparently, had hands and a voice, holding me on my hips. 

So much for staying in the background.

My hand went to my chest as my heart hammered. 

 “I got you,” said the man with a deep baritone voice.

 “Oh, my God.” My face heated in embarrassment, and I almost dropped the champagne. I still spilled it, though.

 And I just caught everyone’s attention, the very same situation I was avoiding.

I turned around and faced him. I was wearing four-inch heels, but he was still taller. My gaze barely reached his chin.

 The man’s five o’clock shadow made his jaw prominent and strong. Those full lips spread to a cocky smile that looked soft and kissable, and a perfect set of white, straight teeth like he had a regular dental appointment.

 “I’m sorry. I wasn’t careful where I was going.” My accent thickened. I was nervous. Why was I even nervous?

 “I’m not,” he said unapologetically. “Maybe we’re meant to be.”

 “Meant to be?” I chuckled. I was too focused on my apology that he already snatched the flute from my hand and gave it to the waitstaff. Then he held my hand, placing the other on his broad shoulder.

 “Dancing.”

“Dancing?” I gasped a little as I felt his huge hand on my bare back, spreading heat through me, equal parts excitement and trepidation.

 “Just follow my lead.” He must have felt my hesitation, tightening his hands as I was ready to flee.

 “What?” My eyes widened. I lifted my gaze, meeting his. 

Damn. 

That was what truly captivated me. The look in his hazel eyes was intense, as if he could see through me, peel me open, lay me bare, and I couldn’t even look away. His dark brown hair was stylishly tousled, as if he ran his fingers through it. He also smelled good, expensive cologne.

 I realized I was staring as I noticed his lips quirk into a smirk. I quickly pulled myself together. There was something dangerous about this man that set every nerve ending in my body on high alert.

 “And think of it as if we’re doing this for a cause.” He was already taking the lead.

 “That’s why I’m here.” My voice was barely audible, but firm. And we danced as if we had practiced the steps together weeks before this event. 

“Precisely. Now that we both agreed, let’s dance.” He spun me and caught me effortlessly.

 I looked down and made sure I didn’t have a wardrobe malfunction because my floor-length white gown had a deep plunge V-cut, and my entire soul and dignity depended on the strings that put the fabric all together.

 “You look stunning,” he said as he pressed me tightly into his chest— a hard chest, and this stranger, whoever he was, was strong and firm as if he worked out religiously. And he had a great smile. His eyes had bigger golden flecks through his gold gladiator-inspired mask.

 “You haven’t even seen my face.”

 “I don’t have to. You can wear a sack to this event, and you will still stand out among the rest. You have that aura that shines through you.”

 “Huh. That’s first. Let me guess, you’re an expert in women, on what they want, what makes them tick, their weaknesses, and right now, because we dance, you think you already promise me something spectacular and expect me to come with you to your room upstairs to give me the best night of my life. Does that really work?”

 “What?” Somehow, I saw the surprise in his eyes. 

This man was obviously rich—old money. His bespoke black satin lapel tuxedo cost more than my paycheck was tailored to his body like his second skin. His hand was soft, as if he had never worked hard in his entire life. He was probably regular at attending charity events to spend money that he didn’t earn, just to make him look good in the public eye.

 “Thanks for the dance.” I took advance his shock and stepped away. Without turning back, I searched for the powder room. 

My heart was still pumping hard as I stared at myself in the mirror. My skin was warmed. I could still feel his touch against my skin. He was a stranger who never put in an effort to get what he wanted, but there was just something about him that was still genuine.

 The door swung open. To my surprise, the stranger just walked in and locked the door.

 “Hey. This is the ladies’ room.”

 “I know. I promise the guy Yankees tickets. I told him to put the out of order sign for five minutes.”

 “Why did you do that?” I blinked in surprise.

 “I think I said something that upset you, and I’m sorry.” He held his mask, about to unveil his identity.”

 “Don’t.” I shook my head repeatedly. “I don’t wanna know who you are.” 

“But I want to know you.” 

I laughed in silence, my body shaking. “Wow. You’re unbelievable.”

 “What do you mean by that?” Through his eyes, he looked awfully hurt.

 “Boy and girl from different worlds meet in a masquerade ball, fall in love, families tear them apart, and it ended tragically.” I snapped my fingers. “Ring a bell?”

 “So presumptuous, but I like that.” He shrugged and said, “Oh, I get it, too. We were both young when I first saw you.” He started singing.

 “What are you doing?” I tried hard to hide my smile, but he saw it.

 “I’m your Romeo, but I don’t believe in our fate that we’re gonna have a tragic ending, Juliet.”

 “Just get out.” I stole a glance at the door. “Please?”

 “Okay, I’m going, but I wanna leave you something that hopefully will change your mind.”

 “And what is it?”

 “I may not know you or haven’t seen your face, but I’m looking forward to seeing you again. I really love your eyes. They remind me of my birthstone.” He took a step closer, pulled the whole glittery white flower from the corner of my mask. 

“Hey.” I glared as I touched what was left.

 “It’s mine now.” He breathed out. At the same time, someone knocked on the door.

 “Time’s up, Romeo.”

 “Yeah.” He almost sounded sad. Then he stared at me for a second before I even realized what he had just done. He grabbed the back of my head, cradled it with his big hand, and slammed his lips into my mine in a rough wet kiss.

 I gasped into his demanding hot mouth. He kissed me as if he could never get enough of me. I found myself wrapping my arms around his neck, pressing my body against his as I returned the kiss with the same passion and urgency.

 For a moment, we forgot we were wearing masks. He then placed his big hand on my lower back, pulling me closer, allowing me to feel what I turned down— his hard, strong body and his huge, long, and thick erection pressed against my lower belly.

 We kissed like there was no tomorrow, as if the world would end in five seconds. At least that was what I felt at this moment, just us kissing, moaning, and groaning until we both ran out of breath.