The Billionaire Who Secretly Stole My Heart

Eve's POV

I have always been careful. Careful of the choices I made, careful of my life, and most of all my heart. But that night, I didn't know what came over me, because this feeling of recklessness was what I felt. Something I hadn't felt in years.

The bass thumped through my veins, the drink left this cold burn on my hand, and across the crowded room, my eyes locked with his. I should have looked away. Better still, I should have walked away, but something was in the intensity of his gaze that pinned me down.

I had no idea who this man was, and I cared less. He was too hot, his face glittering, his ocean blue eyes staring deep into mine, with his thick brown hair that fell to his brows.

I lacked words to express how magnificent he was. As he raised his hand to pick the shot he had ordered from the barman, he smelt rich. If I guessed right, it was the St. Louis perfume he wore. Fuck knows the last time I checked it at the mall, the price wasn't smiling.

Perhaps my nose was deceiving me. I didn't smell it right.

No, I knew what that smell was . Ah, just then he became more mysterious when I saw his Rolex wristwatch. How was someone as rich as he is doing in such a cheap bar?

"Are you rich?" I was propelled to ask in my intoxicated state.

"What do you think?" His deep husky voice asked.

"My guts tells me you're one of those guys that come here and show off, squandering their little cash on drinks and girls."

"And I look like one of them?"

"Not exactly...nevermind. My feelings can be pointless at times."

Silence fell as the beat that buzzed my ears grew louder, louder than before. Then I noticed his brows fall and his chiseled jaw drop. It was obvious he was weary the moment he gulped the shot.

"Only sad folks drink that way." I said, rubbing my palm against my forehead. That was the hypocrisy I exhibited when I myself was sad and drunk.

"Nah, I'm way more than that. Just disappointed."

"In who?"

He gulped another, "In what?, you should ask."

"I'm all ears." I wrestled with my woven bracelet.

"Disappointed in that thing called love. Love is shit." He chuckled. A chuckle that one could easily tell he was depressed and in extreme pain. Emotional pain."Cheers to us that believe love sucks."

He raises his glass as I clinked mine with his.

"Not that I believe love sucks, I just find it tiring. I don't have the time and effort to put into it."

"Are you homosexual?"

"Absolutely not." His eyes peered into mine with a short smile that ignited something in my belly. I never knew I could start such a touching conversation with a stranger. Funny thing was that it went well.

Before I knew it, his lips pressed against mine. I struggled to pull away when I felt his warm palm around my waist. And his kisses are more intense.

I finally managed to withdraw myself. For crying out loud, I was in a bar kissing a total stranger. What if he was a criminal or something worse than that.

I looked around, hoping no one saw us.

"What was that for?" I said in a whisper.

Even though something deep down in me enjoyed him. He was undeniably a good kisser. Fascinating.

"I love your lips. Way better and kissable, compared to my ex's." A glint of a smile brushed against my face.

"I get that a lot."

"After they kiss you or...?"

Huh? Did he hear me say that?

Fuck me.

"I only let people I like kiss me."

"It means you like me."

"I never said that..." I looked over my shoulder, butterflies. How I wish he could stop with the teasing.

No, never stop.

Suddenly, I felt his hand draw my jaw to his face as he kissed me slowly, then faster, our tongues wrestling intimate wars , and pleasurable noise nearly rising above the bass beat.

Fuck knows.