Falling Hard (Billionaires in Disguise: Lizzy, #1) Read Online Free PDF

a little toward them, but because the
Southwest was the outback of nowhere, they turned away just as
soon. Georgie opened the door and stepped into the dark night and
shining lights. Old-fashioned incandescent light bulbs, those
clear-glass ones with the fiery filament inside like Edison had
made in New Jersey over a century ago, studded the hotel wall like
the pioneers had just discovered them. Lizzy could blame any tear
duct malfunction on the stupid lights. She pulled away from Rae and
scooted across the seat toward Georgie’s butt that was blocking the
way out of the car. She poked Georgie’s scarlet ass, and Georgie
stepped to the side.
    In minutes, they would be upstairs in the
suite, and The Dom would be there. Acting normal was going to
require all the East Coast panache that Lizzy could muster.
    She turned back to Rae and laid her hand on
Rae’s leg again.“You won’t say anything about this, will you?”
    “Of course not.” Rae’s kind smile warmed
Lizzy. At least Rae had her back.
    “Everyone wants a date with The Dom, and
everyone is bleary for a day or two afterward, and it’s
embarrassing.”
    “I won’t say anything. I don’t even know what
you guys were talking about.”
    Lizzy laughed. “Of course.”
    One last chance to sex Rae up for her
audition with The Dom.
    Lizzy leaned over and kissed Rae smack on her
lips, and her fingers tightened on Rae’s leg. Rae’s lips were
shock-still under Lizzy’s for an instant, but they softened. When
Lizzy rocked back, Rae’s eyes were shining, and her cheeks were
pink.
    Damn. The Psex Psychic pstrikes again!
    Lizzy retreated from the car and stood on the
sidewalk, waiting for Rae to get a move on.
    The light bulbs glared white outside the dark
car in the cooling night, and the crowd on the sidewalk milled
around them.
    Show time.

A
Different Kind of Cocktail Party
    The three girls rode the hotel’s mirror-lined
elevator way, way up. Lizzy caught a glimpse of herself, a pale
gold shrimp among the normal-sized girls. Her blond hair was so
short that it fluffed up in curly spikes. Her tight, sleeveless
gold dress looked like a crystal-encrusted leotard.
    Panic crashed through her.
    She looked sixteen again, a very small, very
driven sixteen.
    Lizzy gripped the rail behind her back. Her
knees shook, and her high-heeled shoes wobbled on the elevator’s
carpet.
    The elevator doors slid open straight into a
ballroom where a crowded party was swinging. The clear air smelled
like cocktails and perfume, normal things, and Lizzy breathed. She
wasn’t sixteen. She was fine.
    Jeffrey Jackson, a wide, tall black man in a
black suit and the head of the security team at The Devilhouse,
stepped in front of the elevator doors as they walked out, and
Georgie and Lizzy smiled at him and nodded.
    He nodded and stepped back, but he didn’t
smile, not with someone new there. If it had been just Georgie and
Lizzy and his back had been toward the room, they would’ve gotten a
grin and a wink.
    Rae asked, “Was that Dom?”
    “No,” Georgie whispered. “That’s Jeff, one of
the security guys. He’s nice. He just takes his job seriously.”
    “Okay.” Rae straightened, standing far above
Lizzy, and they walked in.
    Like all The Devilhouse’s parties, most of
the men were in their thirties or forties. Some had daubs of ash on
their temples. Some thought they were silver foxes. Most Doms wore
dark suits, and they stood straight and still as if they crackled
with virile power, whether they did or not.
    The subs wore sparkling, jewel-toned dresses,
mostly stretchy fabric, and looked like bright birds fluttering
around their dark Dom trees. Most sported some sort of a metal
choker or chain around their slim necks, so cliche. No VPL marred
the lines of anyone’s backside because practically no one,
including Lizzy, was wearing panties.
    The few Lady Dommes wore dark formals. One
Domme, an older woman with a silver beehive hairdo, wore a navy
satin suit and rested her hand