Mr. Forrester: An Alpha Billionaire Romance by Lauren Landish Page B
Authors: Lauren Landish
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her forehead, then her lips gently. "Let's get out of here," he said. "This isn't my building anyway."
Chapter 6
T he entire cab ride across town, Erica's fingers were entwined with Dwayne's, and upon reaching the posh condo building, she barely took the sight into her consideration as he swept her upstairs to his place, pulling his tie off as he came through the door.
"This is my Chicago place," he explained, releasing her fingers just long enough to pull his suit jacket off and hang it on the hook by the door. "I keep it in case family business calls me back, but it's not much."
Erica looked around, and laughed on the inside. Dwayne's idea of "not much" was bigger than her apartment in Miami by a long shot. "I like it. It's you," she replied, looking at the decorations. It looked a lot like Dwayne's bungalow on the island, with lots of art work that focused on the beauty of the human form. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course," Dwayne replied, kicking off his shoes and making his way over to the sofa. It was older, but still comfortable. "You can ask me anything."
"Well, during the time we were apart, I read some of the gossip rags about you, and there were a few that...."
"That said I was a playboy with a taste for short-lived romances with women of a certain upbringing?” Dwayne replied.
Erica nodded, and he sighed. "Chalk a lot of it up to stupidity and immaturity on my part. Growing up in the Caribbean, I got used to seeing people as who they were, regardless of their social status, hair or eye color. I made friends with kids whose families were so poor the kid didn't know where his next meal was coming from, and with kids who were nearly as rich as I was. My best friend to play with was a little kid named Lionel, whose family lived in a cinderblock and bamboo shack about a mile from our place. For three years in a row, the shoes he wore to school were my old ones that I'd outgrown. When my Father moved us back to the mainland, and my Mother started trying to play matchmaker, their ideas of what was a good or bad match for me pushed me to rebel against them. But I did let myself go out with those society girls, get photographed because my parents told me that was what I had to do. As soon as the cameras were off though, I rebelled, raising hell and getting into trouble. But I learned something between the islands and my time since then that my parents never agreed with. It just took me a bit longer to put together the pieces of that lesson."
"What's that?" Erica asked, sitting beside him. Dwayne turned, and cupped her jaw gently.
"That it doesn’t matter if you were born into money and wealth, and that it doesn’t set in stone where you’re going to end up in life. Quality is not dependent on bank account. And most importantly, that you're the most beautiful woman on the planet."
Dwayne leaned forward and kissed her, and Erica felt the familiar wave of desire wash through her that she had missed for so long. She returned his kiss, her tongue coming out to taste his as her eyes filled with tears of joy.
Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt, slipping them out to reveal his muscular chest, a few shades paler than it had been on the island, after a month of Chicago weather. She pushed him back, swinging her legs over to straddle his waist.
"I know you're normally in control of our lovemaking," she said as she finished unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it back, "but I've been without this for too damn long."
Dwayne's murmured consent spurred her on, as she kissed him again, taking his head between her hands to hold him, almost as if she was afraid he would disappear into thin air. She could feel the stiffening bulge in his pants rubbing against her through her jeans, and her body filled with hot desire. Their kisses took on a sharper, more demanding edge, each of them hungry for the other's touch. Dwayne helped her off with her sweatshirt and t-shirt, leaving her in just her plain cotton bra.
"You
Chapter 6
T he entire cab ride across town, Erica's fingers were entwined with Dwayne's, and upon reaching the posh condo building, she barely took the sight into her consideration as he swept her upstairs to his place, pulling his tie off as he came through the door.
"This is my Chicago place," he explained, releasing her fingers just long enough to pull his suit jacket off and hang it on the hook by the door. "I keep it in case family business calls me back, but it's not much."
Erica looked around, and laughed on the inside. Dwayne's idea of "not much" was bigger than her apartment in Miami by a long shot. "I like it. It's you," she replied, looking at the decorations. It looked a lot like Dwayne's bungalow on the island, with lots of art work that focused on the beauty of the human form. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course," Dwayne replied, kicking off his shoes and making his way over to the sofa. It was older, but still comfortable. "You can ask me anything."
"Well, during the time we were apart, I read some of the gossip rags about you, and there were a few that...."
"That said I was a playboy with a taste for short-lived romances with women of a certain upbringing?” Dwayne replied.
Erica nodded, and he sighed. "Chalk a lot of it up to stupidity and immaturity on my part. Growing up in the Caribbean, I got used to seeing people as who they were, regardless of their social status, hair or eye color. I made friends with kids whose families were so poor the kid didn't know where his next meal was coming from, and with kids who were nearly as rich as I was. My best friend to play with was a little kid named Lionel, whose family lived in a cinderblock and bamboo shack about a mile from our place. For three years in a row, the shoes he wore to school were my old ones that I'd outgrown. When my Father moved us back to the mainland, and my Mother started trying to play matchmaker, their ideas of what was a good or bad match for me pushed me to rebel against them. But I did let myself go out with those society girls, get photographed because my parents told me that was what I had to do. As soon as the cameras were off though, I rebelled, raising hell and getting into trouble. But I learned something between the islands and my time since then that my parents never agreed with. It just took me a bit longer to put together the pieces of that lesson."
"What's that?" Erica asked, sitting beside him. Dwayne turned, and cupped her jaw gently.
"That it doesn’t matter if you were born into money and wealth, and that it doesn’t set in stone where you’re going to end up in life. Quality is not dependent on bank account. And most importantly, that you're the most beautiful woman on the planet."
Dwayne leaned forward and kissed her, and Erica felt the familiar wave of desire wash through her that she had missed for so long. She returned his kiss, her tongue coming out to taste his as her eyes filled with tears of joy.
Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt, slipping them out to reveal his muscular chest, a few shades paler than it had been on the island, after a month of Chicago weather. She pushed him back, swinging her legs over to straddle his waist.
"I know you're normally in control of our lovemaking," she said as she finished unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it back, "but I've been without this for too damn long."
Dwayne's murmured consent spurred her on, as she kissed him again, taking his head between her hands to hold him, almost as if she was afraid he would disappear into thin air. She could feel the stiffening bulge in his pants rubbing against her through her jeans, and her body filled with hot desire. Their kisses took on a sharper, more demanding edge, each of them hungry for the other's touch. Dwayne helped her off with her sweatshirt and t-shirt, leaving her in just her plain cotton bra.
"You
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