Claimed By The Billionaire Husband

"Did you get Laura's number before she had a panic attack?"

Sarah picked out a red pencil from a pack and said, "Yep. We've been texting a little today. I think we might go out this weekend." I was arranging the books on the counter for the fiftieth time while we were in the bookstore. I was unable to release the anxious energy.

Even twenty-four hours after my erotic evening, Dominic was still on my mind. It was time for coloring, and I had been too preoccupied with work to try to locate him online. The whole therapeutic coloring trend appeals to me. It is superior to meditation. Markers and pencils, however, definitely wouldn't distract me from him.

"Poor thing. She looked terrified," I said.

Sarah shoved her purple cat-eye specs up her nose and looked up from her Zen nature pattern. "Yeah. Wow. We were having a really good time, chatting and talking about going to a movie later this week. Then she started to breathe funny. I thought maybe it was asthma, and then she said she was having an anxiety attack. I tried to get her to sit, but she lost her shit and went to find her brother. I meant to ask her where she works, too. I'll call her later."

I muttered something about how she and her brother collaborate, and then I frowned when I realized I didn't even know Dominic's last name or the name of his business. I'd have to forget about him unless he came back to Story Brothel the next month. I was more disappointed by the thought than I had anticipated. I hadn't really been searching for a man. Apart from the issues at the bookstore, I had an amazing life. satisfying. busy with job, friends, and creativity.

However, Dominic had served as a reminder that life could be even more delightful, particularly if it included a strong sexual current. I had been missing that. I let out a sigh.

A man in his twenties approached the counter and began to scratch his chest. "Dudes, do you have any animal pages to color?"

I rummaged through a pile of documents. Since it was the first Thursday of the month, my bookstore was hosting its monthly event, Color After Dark. In an attempt to decompress, hipsters, pensioners, and anxious artists who worked as theme park cast members rushed to the store to color with pens, markers, and pencils. They brought the alcohol, and I brought the supplies and some relaxing music. At Orlando, it was starting to become a big local event, and that night, a few dozen people arrived at the tables I had set up at the rear of the store.

"Here," I responded, presenting the bearded man with five distinct animal predators. He picked up a lion and walked away, saying, "Take your pick."

After sharpening her pencil, Sarah drew a frog. Sarah was the manager of the bookstore and my best friend. Since she was pursuing a PhD degree in library science, the position worked nicely with her schedule.

I inquired, "Since when are frogs red?"

She flung her long curtain of chestnut hair. "It's my frog, bitch. Don't judge."

When I heard the bells on the front door jingle, I was laughing and looking around at the tables occupied by grownups who were focused and relaxed. a latecomer. When I looked up, I saw a man smiling as he walked up to the counter.

Dominic. God, he looked even more beautiful tonight. Those cheekbones would make Michelangelo cry.

I caught Sarah raising an eyebrow out of the corner of my eye. "Who's here?" she muttered. "Surprise, surprise, surprise..."

He put his large hands on the counter and muttered, "Hey," quietly. In the strong light of my bookstore, he seemed more macho and vibrant somehow. I looked at him, silent for a moment. With his bow-shaped mouth and silvery-black hair, he looked tempting in black pants and a black T-shirt tonight. So were his biceps, which had been hidden beneath his white dress shirt button-down the night before.

Sarah said, "Hey there," as she grabbed her coloring books and gave me a stern look. "I'm going to make myself comfortable at the table. I need to spread out."

I gave a nod. My gaze met Dominic's, now alone. I tried breathing steadily to try to calm my erratic heartbeat, but it probably looked more like hyperventilation.

"Isabella, I'm sorry about last night. I'd hoped to get your number, but my sister-"

"It's okay." He appeared so nervous and contrite that I wanted to make things less unpleasant and take a breather.

"She's had those attacks for years, but they still freak me out. I feel helpless, you know? I've taken her to the hospital so many times, but there's never anything I can do."

"I can imagine. Did you take her to the hospital last night?"

He gave a nod. "Yeah. They ended up giving her a tranquilizer and sending her home. Still, I wanted to apologize."

I tried to grin and said, "There's no need to at all. I felt awful for her." "How did you find me?" I said, feeling a twinge of caution. The fact that he had made the effort to locate my bookstore both excited and alarmed me.

He smiled.

I taunted, "Are you stalking me?"

"Um, no." He took a piece of paper out of his back pocket, unfolded it, and set it on the counter. "You were in the paper. With a beautiful photo."

Books in Chapter One to Preserve Color After Dark

"Oh, right. I forgot I was in The Sentinel today."

"I opened the paper at breakfast this morning, and there you were. It was a very welcome surprise. Serendipity, even."

With a burning blush, I said, "I love that word." "So, you came to color."

"No, I didn't."

"Oh." I suppressed a grin.

"I came to ask you to read me a bedtime story."

My jaw fell open, and I looked at the tables. His suggestion had obviously gone unheard because everyone was too busy coloring. I felt sparks fly through my stomach.

I took out a set of markers and a dragonfly-patterned page and gave him a playful smile, saying, "I don't read for money outside of Story Brothel."

He chuckled. He said, "I wasn't planning on paying you. I want to take you to dinner, though." He brought up a steakhouse that I had heard about but had never visited; it was a pricey establishment housed in a posh hotel at a theme park resort.

I slid the coloring sheet and markers in his direction and said, "I'm a vegetarian." It goes without saying that I wanted to read him a story and spend dinner with him. However, I also wanted to prolong this and see where our flirting would take us. "Maybe you want to sit and color for a bit?"

He opened his mouth, and I could see by the expression on his face that he was about to mock my offer. Then he smiled. "Sure. I'll color."

I grasped him by the arm after stepping around the counter and beckoning with my fingers. I led him to a vacant seat behind Sarah and gave him a squeeze on his exposed bicep. I was aware that my hands were small, but they appeared incredibly small when they were wrapped around his bicep. I pictured myself beneath him, clinging to both of his arms as he penetrated me. My entire body felt a surge of heat.

He took a fancy-looking watch off his wrist and placed it on the table next to his pencils while he sat. "I'll try to stay between the lines."

Sarah spoke up. "You don't have to. That's the beauty of adult coloring. You can do whatever the hell you want."

They burst out laughing and began to talk quietly. I stepped back so I could sit at the counter and look at him. With the tiny silver hair strands on the sides of his head, he was just exquisite. They made him appear more edgy and stylish rather than older. He looked at me several times while I stared, and then I turned away and grinned. After about thirty minutes of this, Sarah shook his hand and got up.

Sarah yelled out, "Say hi to Laura for me," and then she moved to the counter where I was ordering books.

"Em, I'm leaving. I got the whole story on his sister," she said. She hugged me and walked out of the store, saying, "Call you later." In an attempt to signal everyone else to leave, I turned down the music and took Sarah's seat next to Dominic.

I took a breath and said, "Enjoying yourself?" and there it was. I wanted to eat his skin because of the aroma of oak, vanilla, and mint.

He tinted the dragonfly's wings blue and said, "Actually, I am. This is oddly captivating." "I don't think I've colored since first grade."

"Plenty of people say that. Then they discover it's soothing. What do you do for stress relief?"

He shrugged and said, "I run, work out, typical guy stuff." "Maybe I need to color. Maybe it would calm me down. Whatever I do, it's not enough. Work takes over, and I never feel fully relaxed, you know? But this is cool." He looked around, nodding.

"I do know that feeling." I wanted to let him know that the bookstore and coloring nights might disappear in a few months due to a recent building purchase. Rumor and an incomplete newspaper story combined to show that the new owner would demolish the property and build a massive new condo complex. I was arranging for all of the independent store owners to attend and demonstrate at the upcoming meeting over the block's redevelopment. I started to invite him, but I stopped myself. No, I didn't want to come across as pitiful or needy. Why would I bring up my fight against cookie-cutter development in downtown Orlando with a guy I just met?

Given what he did for a job, it was unlikely that he would sympathize with my plight. Instead of asking Dominic for help, I wanted to fuck him. Even before I scrimped, saved, and took out loans to keep the bookstore going, I had ensured that my business was mine.

His voice was quiet as he asked, "How long have you owned this store? I love the feel of it. "It also smells good. Like paper."

Taking a pencil, I began coloring one of the dragonflies on his paper after moving my chair close to his. With a slender pencil between his fingers, his hands appeared even bigger. I took a deep breath, attempting to push the fantasies out of my head.

"Five years. Are you from Orlando? I'm surprised I've never seen you here."

He flinched. "You know, I live right down the street. And I walk by here all the time. But I usually buy books online."

I muttered, "Hush," trying to sound serious. "You should be punished for that."

"I'm sure you'll think of some way to punish me."

I smiled. "You're a flirt."

"And you're not?" He asked with a smile that was even more sinister than mine, and I could feel the energy between us.

I bit my lip and tried to resist the impulse to rub myself against him, as my cat does with the coffee table, but I didn't answer. I pictured his fingers reaching around to caress me till I had an orgasm, and his mouth moving down the back of my neck and then down the column of my spine. His gaze darted across my face as I trembled a little.

There was a wonderful silence as we colored on the same sheet of paper. We shaded the same dragonfly once, me coloring one wing blue and him shading the other green, pausing occasionally to look up at one another. I wanted to grasp his face in my hands and just gaze into his eyes tonight since they seemed to be an even deeper sapphire blue. And because his body was taut and strong, the hints of gray hair gave him a more prestigious and manly appearance.

He placed his fingers on the back of my hand as I went for the black pencil, shooting sparks up my arm. I flipped my hand over and held the pencil out to him. With elegant precision, he removed it from me without saying a word.

It was nine o'clock, when Color After Dark usually came to an end, and people started packing and leaving. When the last person had gone, I stood up and locked the door after saying goodbye to everyone. Now that Dominic and I were alone, I turned off the music. In the midst of the silence, he got up and stood beside me at the counter. That night, for the first time, I felt uncomfortable, dependent, and uneasy. When it came to males, I was typically in control of my emotions.

Not this guy.

His words were, "So I was thinking, how about I make you a vegetarian dinner at my place tomorrow night?"

I reached for my handbag. How come he didn't ask me now? "You're willing to cook vegetarian for me?"

"You sound skeptical of my cooking abilities."

"Maybe I am, since you suggested a steakhouse."

"I figured you'd want to go to the hottest restaurant in the city."

"Doesn't mean anything to me. I've never been."

"Usually, that's where men take women to impress them. Women like flashy restaurants."

I shrugged. "The last time I went out to eat was at Taco Bus, three weeks ago."

I put my black patent-leather purse over my shoulder and giggled as he said, looking a little bewildered. "Taco Bus?"

He said, "Is it a...bus?"

"It is. I would take you, but you don't seem like a Taco Bus kind of guy."

He licked his lower lip at that. "Try me."

Perhaps he was more accepting than he seemed. However, I was only anticipating a one-night stand and a dinner date with him. That was all that was required. didn't desire it. All I wanted was his body and mouth, and then I had to let go of this small fixation with him.

"Can I walk you to your car?"

I gestured for him to follow me through the back storeroom, grinning at his archaic ways. It was just a few steps to my beat-up Honda from the bookstore's back entrance, which opened onto the parking lot. A couple of gentle raindrops fell on my face as we stopped at my driver's side door. Even though I detest getting caught in the rain, tonight I wasn't worried for some reason.

I appreciated that he was organizing an evening for us, but I thought about inviting him to my house. The hookup became more sexual and less raunchy as a result.

I could hold out. I felt like an adolescent rather than an adult lady while I waited, my heart thumping against my chest and my stomach fluttering.

I said, "Text me your address," and took my card out of my bag before giving it to him.

"I'll see you tomorrow night. Don't bring anything. I'll handle it all."

I whispered, sensing a few more droplets of rain, "No wine?" For the first time, I enjoyed the way they felt, and they were cool against my warm face.

"Nope."

"Dessert?"

He chuckled. "I could say something really cheesy and totally inappropriate, but I won't. So no, don't bring dessert. I've got it covered."

I chuckled and took a step forward. "Dominic?"

"Yes, Isabella?"

"What's your last name? I don't usually go to a man's home unless I know his last name."

"King. Yours?"

I tapped the back of his palm, carrying my business card, and said, "Hey. It's also here." After putting the card in his back pocket, he held it up.

"One more question."

"Yes, Isabella?" He murmured my name, and it felt luxurious and sensuous, like slipping into a bed of velvet.

"Are you going to kiss me goodnight?"

The corners of his mouth lifted as he cocked his head. I resisted the impulse to lick him when he leaned into my ear. I had never been so aroused before as his lower lip touched my lobe. What on earth was going on here?

"No. It's about to rain hard, and you need to get home before it turns into a monsoon. So you're going to have to wait," he whispered. "I'm not going to kiss you. Not now, not here in a parking lot, under a streetlight in the rain."

Jesus asked, "Wh-why?" I had to gather my thoughts.

His hand cradled the opposite side of my face, and his lips found my cheek, pressing them against my skin. I let my eyes drift close to relish the powerful, tactile sensation as he rubbed my cheek twice with his thumb. Although his mouth was hot, my face was hotter. I was heated between my legs, but not that hot. My limbs turned to jelly as I held my breath, and all of a sudden, I forgot about the rain in Florida.

He laughed and stepped away from me, saying, "Because you deserve to be kissed properly, in a perfect place. Like my bed."

Oh.

My brows went up. I was now even more interested and aroused. "You like to tease and be teased, don't you, Mr. King?"

"Very good, Ms. Heyes. You've picked up on that."

I smiled and took a step back. It was game time. "See you tomorrow night."