Page 34 of Billionaire's Desire
“Thank you!” I whisper into her hair.
“You’re welcome. See you at seven,” then she unwraps herself from my embrace and walks out of our room.
Instead of getting ready, I settle on my bed and take out my phone.
I log into my account and decide to scroll through pictures of Poppy. Time passes me by quickly as I take a walk down memory lane because the next time I look up from my phone, two hours have just flown by. Unlike this morning, when I was consumed by my grief, this evening, I feel happy and glad that I got to spend a great number of years with her in my life.
I drop my phone, straighten my bed and then walk into the bathroom to curl my hair and put on my makeup.
I dab a bit of concealer under my eyes to cover up the dark circles and brighten up that area.
Then, I apply a light layer of foundation to even out my skin tone and give me a healthy glow. I blend it in well, making sure to focus on areas where I need a little extra coverage.
Next, I sweep some blush onto the apples of my cheeks to add a pop of color and give me a rosy glow. I use a light hand to make sure it looks natural and not too overdone.
For my eyes, I apply a bit of neutral eyeshadow to give them some depth and dimension, and then line my upper lash line with black eyeliner. I finish off my eyes with a few coats of mascara to make my lashes look long and full.
Finally, I swipe on a bit of lip gloss to add some shine and complete my look.
I take a step back and look in the mirror again. My complexion is brighter, my eyes are more defined, and my lips are glossy and inviting. The makeup is simple, but it’s enough to make me feel confident.
After that, I pull on a pair of strappy heels, put a few bank notes and my ID underneath the back cover of my phone because I do not have a purse with me then I lock up our cabin and head in the direction of the nightclub.
As I make my way down the dock, the bass of the music gets louder and my heart starts to race with anticipation. It is my first time on land since the charter began. The side of the yacht is stunning, all sleek lines and polished surfaces, and I can’t help but feel a little intimidated by its grandeur now that I am looking at it from the outside.
I can feel the vibrations under my feet, and I can’t help but feel a little nervous as I approach the bouncer at the door.
He scans my ID and gives me a nod. I step inside, ready to explore.
The first thing that hits me is the music—it’s loud and pulsing, filling the air with energy and excitement. The dance floor is already packed with people, their bodies moving in time with the beat.
The lighting is low and atmospheric, casting shadows and creating a sense of mystery and intrigue. I look around and take in the décor—it’s all black and gold, with plush velvet seating and flickering candles.
As I make my way deeper into the club, I notice that there are several bars scattered around, all serving up exotic cocktails and premium spirits. I make a mental note to try a few before the night is over.
I’m struck by the energy and excitement of the place. There’s a feeling of freedom and abandon in the air like anything is possible. The people around me are dressed in their finest, their hair styled and their makeup flawless, and I feel a little underdressed in my casual clothes.
But as I start to move to the music, letting the beat wash over me and feeling the rhythm in my bones, I realize that it doesn’t matter if I technically wouldn’t do this. I’m here to have fun, to let loose, and to experience all that Ebony has to offer.
And with that realization, I dive headfirst into the crowd, losing myself in the music and the moment. This is what I’ve been waiting for—a night of pure, unadulterated fun, surrounded by the pulsing energy of Ebony.
I’m dancing, feeling the beat of the music pulsing through me. My body moves in sync with the rhythm, and I close my eyes, letting the music take over.
Fuck! I needed this.
Suddenly, I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I turn to see a man standing there.
I take a moment to look at him, trying to gauge his intentions.
He’s tall, with broad shoulders and a muscular build. His hair is short and styled in a messy, effortless way, and his face is chiseled and handsome. He’s dressed in a dark suit that fits him perfectly, and he exudes an air of confidence and charm.
“I am Darien. Wanna dance?”
Despite his good looks, something about him makes me feel uneasy. Maybe it’s the way he’s staring at me, like he’s trying to size me up. His gaze is completely fixed on my breasts.
“No, thank you.”
I take a few steps away from him but he does not take the hint, instead following me.
