Page 35 of Billionaire's Desire
“I am the son of a billionaire. You might want to give me a minute of your time,” he shouts above the music just so I could hear him.
The douchebag.
“Thank you, but I am not interested.”
“C’mon sweet tits…”
Did he think that was a compliment?
What in the actual fuck?
I am beyond irked.
Maybe it’s the way he keeps persisting, even after I’ve declined his offer to dance.
Either way, I know that I don’t want to get involved with him. He might be attractive, but he’s definitely not my type. I continue dancing, trying to ignore him, but he doesn’t seem to take the hint. He keeps hovering nearby, trying to catch my eye, and I start to feel uncomfortable.
I glance around for Hilda, hoping that she is finally here and that she can come over and rescue me, but she’s nowhere to be seen. I start to feel trapped, like I can’t escape this man’s unwanted attention.
Just as I realize I can’t get away from this unpleasant stranger, I feel a firm grip on my hand. Startled, I turned to see Max, standing by my side with a determined look on his face.
“Hey babe, sorry I’m late,” he says, pulling me close and wrapping his arm around my waist. “Who’s this guy bothering you?”
My skin prickles at the point of his contact.
Max is here!
The man looks taken aback, but Max doesn’t give him a chance to answer. “Listen man, she’s with me,” he says firmly. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
The man hesitates for a moment, looking between Max and me, but finally he backs off and disappears into the crowd.
I let out a sigh of relief, grateful for Max’s quick thinking and protective instincts. “Thanks, Max,” I say, leaning into him. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
He smiles down at me, his eyes warm and reassuring. “I am happy to help. I wish you didn’t need my help at all, but I am happy I was around. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
I smile at him.
“No. I am okay. Some men just don’t take no for an answer. What are you doing here?”
He lets his hand drop from my waist and I immediately feel the loss.
“I met your friend, Hilda. She told me you’d be here.”
I take the time to appreciate his outfit.
Max’s button-down shirt is a classic style that looks both comfortable and stylish. The fabric is a light linen material, which drapes loosely over his broad shoulders and toned chest. The shirt has a relaxed fit, but is still tailored enough to accentuate his athletic build. As I take a closer look at Max’s outfit.
His pants are just as stylish and comfortable as his button-down shirt. They are slim-fitting and made of a dark-colored denim or cotton material, which hugs his muscular thighs and tapers slightly at the ankle.
I want to touch it, feel the material brushing on my fingers. I shake my head, trying to focus my thoughts.
“So, you came?”
That came out a lot ruder than I meant, but Max looks unfazed as he replies, “I didn’t see you all day, and I wanted to give you an update on the Wheelers.”
I immediately perk up.
“And it couldn’t wait?”
