Billionaire Boss 18+ Enemies to Lovers, Fake Relationship Age Gap Romance

2 - Rules

2 - Rules

Damon

My hand clenched into a fist, and I glared at the man who was eyeing the woman—my kitten—like he owned her. It wasn't her fault. She looked stunning in her navy dress (despite the spilled champagne) with her brown skin glowing under the dim light.

"She's with me," I told him, my voice gentle but firm. "Find someone else."

"I'm not sure if you heard me. I said she's mine for the night."

Before I could say anything, the woman stepped between us, glaring at the man. My eyes dipped down the backless dress to the delicious curve of her ass. It was perfect. I wanted to tug off that dress, spank her, and see it jiggle as I fuck her. I couldn't wait.

The woman started, "On what basis? I didn't sign up for any demos or—"

While it was good to know she could stand her own guard, I had already chosen her for the night.

Glaring at the man, I said, "She has a partner."

I brushed past him and wrapped my hand around her dainty wrist. My eyes snapped at her face, her coffee-colored eyes. I felt the burning electricity shoot through me when I touched her.

I need her. Now.

Holding her, I dragged her away from the man, shooting him a look that said I'd like to see you try to take her from me, and showed my ID to the guard who was assigned in front of the VIP suites.

I had come to Hollywood because I was invited to check out my ex-competitor's sex club, Aphrodite. It was similar to my previous club, Vixen, which I had sold off to another investor who would take much better care of it while I work on Moore Beauty. I wasn't planning to go to Aphrodite. I was busy making sure our new product for the brand was converting into profit and that the marketing team was doing their job.

But I needed a break and visited it for an hour, planning to watch the Shibari show and leave.

Looking over my shoulder, I eyed the white feathered mask, the dark, luscious waves that I was dying to cradle in my hand. I wanted her. I'm glad I got lost trying to find a way to the show and bumped into her. My shirt clung to me, and I couldn't wait to take it off—

I paused in the middle of the dimly lit hallway, red lights falling all around us. "I have some rules," I said, turning around to face her.

She rolled her eyes, and I ignored the urge to pin her on the wall and turn her bottom bright red. Stay calm, Damon. "Rules are boring, but go on, mister uptight."

She did not just...

"I won't remove the mask. I don't enjoy repeating, but I'll say it again—watch that little mouth of yours, kitten," I said, my voice lowering an octave. Her eyes brightened and met me head on instead of looking at the floor and listening to my rules.

I was already famous for being a son and brother to Dorothy Moore and Emma Moore, my little sister. Now the CEO of Moore Beauty, I didn't need her or anyone to spread a rumor that I enjoyed visiting sex clubs in my free time and slept around with strangers.

"I won't be removing it either," she said, touching the side of her mask. I clenched my jaw. It was fair. Keeping this purely for pleasure, but I didn't miss the hint of disappointment of not getting to see her face. From what I could see, she had high cheekbones and carved jaw with full, pillowy lips that were begging to be licked, kissed and fucked.

I turned around and walked to the elevator, swiping the card that the owner had given me with the invitation. I was glad I brought it with me.

"I didn't know you come here often," she remarked.