The Contract; A Billionaire Romance (18+)

THIRTEEN (MATURE)

Aden

(This chapter has mature themes)

I drive us to the karaoke bar in silence, my hands tight on the wheel to keep them off my assistant. Odessa sits quietly, her hands folded in her lap and eyes out on the street. She hasn't said a word since we got in the car, and I can see the wheels turning in her head.

I wonder if I said too much at the dress shop but know in my heart I meant every word.

That dress is truly made for her—it hugs her in every right place, and the contrast to her creamy, pale skin makes it that much more sinful. Every tattoo that decorates her skin almost frames the dress. I love the way it looks on her but know I'd much rather love it to be pooled on my bedroom floor.

I pull up to the bar and find a parking spot, turning off my engine, and the sound of the music from the bar leaks through the doors.

She gives me a look, uncertainty in her eyes.

"What's the matter?" I ask.

"What do you think people are going to say when we walk in together?"

I knit my brows, realizing I never thought of that. Several employees will be present tonight—I've heard the excitement traveling the halls of my building all week. Odessa doesn't know just how much she is loved around the office. If we walk in together, that's going to raise some flags.

I sigh, rubbing my hand down my beard, searching through the parking lot as if I'll find the answer there somewhere.

"We can walk in separately. I can go in and then you can wait for a few minutes?" She suggests.

"Or we can just go in and ignore them completely. You needed a designated driver, that's all."

She worries her lip through her teeth. I reach forward and brush a stray hair from her eyes, careful not to touch her soft skin.

"Don't worry about them. Let me handle it." She finally nods, and I exit the car, rounding the vehicle to open her door. She climbs out and I grab her hand, helping her catch her balance as she steps into the chilly air.

"Are you cold?" I ask, my eyes traveling over the expanse of her exposed legs.

"A hoe never gets cold," she says instantly, humor pulling at her lips. I give her a look. "It's a saying. Never mind." She waves me away with a chuckle. "Your age is showing."

"I would never classify you as a hoe," I say, disapproval heavy in my tone.

"I know, I'm not saying that I'm a hoe. It's a saying about how women who go to nightclubs always wear scanty clothing despite the weather. It could be snowing, and you'd still see girls in mini skirts and dresses. It's just a joke, is all."

"Hm." She rolls her eyes as if saying that I just don't get it, which I don't but I just lead her inside.

The karaoke bar is lively, and as we walk in, all eyes near the entrance are on Odessa, and for good reason. I try to keep my distance from her, fighting the urge to claim her as mine in front of all the men, because she isn't.

She smiles as Tyler, an employee from customer service, nearly tackles her in a hug. Beth is close to follow. They share excited greetings and Tyler pulls away, looking down at her outfit.

"Oooh girl, if I wasn't gay, I would eat you up!" He yells over the singer up on stage who's doing a horrible cover of Don't Stop Believing. I chuckle and pocket my fists, standing awkwardly to the side. After a moment, they both look at me, shock crossing their faces.