Tipping The Billionaire: His Runaway Lover
Chapter 3
"Boss," the lead bodyguard said, his gun still trained on the alley thugs. "Should I throw her out?"
Alida couldn't hear him. The drug in her veins mutated from a sedative into a raging inferno. Her skin felt like it was on fire.
She twisted in Jax's grip, a soft, desperate whimper escaping her lips. She pressed her flushed cheek against his chest, seeking the cool silk of his shirt.
Jax's entire body went rigid. The muscles in his arms bunched under his suit jacket. His dark eyes darkened to the color of an abyss. He raised a single finger, silencing his bodyguard.
Alida blinked, trying to clear her vision. The man holding her was a blur of sharp angles and raw power.
Her drug-addled brain tried to make sense of the situation. VIP hallway. Handsome man. Strong hands.
She reached up. Her trembling fingers slid over the lapel of his jacket, pressing flat against the hard muscle of his chest. "You feel... so good," she mumbled.
The bodyguards around them sucked in a collective breath. No one touched the tyrant of Wall Street. No one.
She fumbled with the zipper of her purse. Her fingers were clumsy, but she managed to pull out the folded piece of paper. The personal check. Fifty thousand dollars.
She slapped the paper flat against Jax's chest.
"I'm buying you," she slurred, her words running together. "Best escort in the club. You're going to take care of me tonight."
The silence in the hallway became absolute. It was a heavy, suffocating quiet.
Jax looked down at the piece of paper pressed against his chest. A muscle feathered in his jaw. The vein at his temple throbbed.
He reached up and grabbed her chin. His long fingers dug into her soft skin, forcing her head up.
"Do you have any idea," Jax whispered, his voice a lethal, silken threat, "who you are talking to?"
The pressure on her jaw hurt. Alida frowned. Driven by the chemical fire in her blood and the sheer frustration of the night, she pushed up on her tiptoes.
She clamped her teeth down on his lower lip and bit him. Hard.
The metallic taste of his blood rushed into her mouth.
The last thread of Jax's legendary control snapped.
He let out a low growl. His hand moved from her chin to the back of her neck, his fingers twisting into her hair. He crushed his mouth against hers, turning the bite into a punishing, brutal kiss.
Alida gasped, her knees buckling completely. She melted against him, surrendering to the overwhelming sensory overload.
Jax broke the kiss. He bent down and scooped her up into his arms, carrying her bridal style.
"Lock down the private elevator," Jax ordered his men, his voice harsh and ragged. "No one comes up."
He strode toward the end of the hall. Alida's hands roamed over his shoulders, her fingers clumsily tugging at the knot of his silk tie.
The elevator doors slid open. Jax carried her inside.
When the doors opened again, they were in the penthouse. Jax kicked the double doors shut behind them with a slam that shook the walls.
He walked into the master bedroom and threw her onto the massive King-size bed.
Alida bounced on the mattress. She writhed, clawing at the collar of her dress. "It's so hot," she cried, tears of frustration leaking from her eyes.
Jax stood over her, his chest heaving. He yanked his tie completely off.
"You asked for this," he said, his voice dark with a primal hunger.
He grabbed her wrists, pulling them above her head, and wrapped his silk tie around them, binding her hands to the heavy wooden headboard.
Alida didn't fight him. The drug demanded release. She arched her back, offering herself to the fire.
Jax stripped off his jacket. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the Manhattan skyline glittered like crushed diamonds. Inside, the temperature was boiling.
He came down over her, a predator claiming his prey.
When the initial pain hit, Alida gasped, a single tear slipping down her temple. But the pain was instantly swallowed by a tidal wave of heat. The penthouse disappeared, leaving only the sensation of his skin against hers, until the darkness finally took her.
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