Seduce me if you dare: Alpha Billionaire Romance (The Secret Matchmaker Book 1)

Seduce me if you dare

The Secret Matchmaker Series Book 1

L.N. Pearl

Copyright © 2015 by L.N. Pearl. All rights reserved worldwide.

No part of this publication may be replicated, redistributed, or given away in any form without the prior written consent of the author/publisher or the terms relayed to you herein.

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

***

Book description:

Guys like us don’t do love. My best friend and I never fell for anyone and I wasn’t thinking about settling down before the accident.

When Geoff suddenly died in a car crash, things changed. Actually, everything changed. Being the only one at his funeral was a wakeup call: I didn’t want to end up like him. I needed to find the right one. The perfect woman to share my life with.

So I did the unthinkable: I hired an elite matchmaking agency.

There’s just one problem. My matchmaker is smart, competent and extremely hot… and she was my one night stand last night.

Note
: this is the first book out of five in the series. Contains explicit language for a mature audience only.

Prologue

1 - Lila

2 - Asher

3 - Lila

4 - Asher

5 - Lila

6 - Asher

7 - Lila

8 - Asher

I glanced at my watch one more time before sitting back in the old wooden pew. Surely the time was off, or maybe I’d written down the wrong day.

The old priest at the front of the room glanced up from the podium and gave me a weary smile, his grey eyes tired from a long life, no doubt.

"Well, looks like it's just going to be us, my new friend. And Geoff, of course," he said, as he gave a smile that almost looked forced.

I held in a painful sigh.

The small funeral home sanctuary was empty, except for me, the priest and the dead body of my best friend.

No one else.

No one.

I glanced behind me again and turned, giving the priest my attention as horror rolled over me in waves far too consuming to escape. How the fuck Geoff didn't have anyone at his funeral was beyond me. He was a playboy—a rich, strong, funny guy. Or was he?

I swallowed hard and tried to tune out the soft music in the background that spoke of grace and peace, knowing that the room might look quite similar if I had been in the car accident instead of my closest friend.

He was a user. A people user.

So was I.

We could tell great jokes and leave women breathless, but investing in anything other than financial gain wasn't part of our strategy. Love 'em and leave them wanting more had been the battle cry of our earlier years, but what I’d failed to realize—and was reeling from now—was that it hadn't changed as we grew into maturity.

"Only thirty-five and yet Geoff has finished his race. May the grace of..."

I turned the old man off, blocking his kindness and sinking deeper into the pew. The hardened wood pressed into my back and forced reality down my throat. I'd spent the last thirty-five years of my life taking from everyone without half of them even really knowing it was happening, and I had a lot, a fucking lot, to show for it, but...

Who would be here if this were my funeral?

My shit, my investments, my used up women—none of them had legs strong enough to carry them to the belly of loss—not that they would care anyway.

A long sigh left me and I moved to the edge of the pew and slid my fingers through my hair as I closed my eyes. Something had to change. I’d looked into a matchmaking service, but I needed to get serious about it. 

Geoff's life was lost to his own gratification, as mine had been. At this very moment in life when you'd hope people would come and show their support for the man, here I sat alone. No one cared for him, and quite simply, he hadn’t cared for them either. It was beyond depressing.

Hundreds of parties with millions of friends had been a part of this wild man's life. That and racing cars with thousands of fans yelling in the background, and yet...

"Fuck," I whispered and stood up, not caring about the rest of the message. I didn't need it. The stark reality that I was headed down the same road wasn't lost on me.

This was going to require a quick change, but I had to find her. The one. The one person I could actually share with. I could share myself, share my stuff, and maybe by investing myself in her as well, I would wind up with at least one person that would weep when I was gone. But could there be even more? Did I want more?

"Perfect," I purred at the image in the mirror before me. The long black and gold sequined dress cost a fortune, but judging by the way it fit me, it was worth it every penny.

Turning slightly, I slid my hand over my ass and smirked in the mirror. It was going to be a fun night, but it always was at Blaze. The club was in the heart of L.A. and the music was the very freshest off the streets.

Stars lined the dance floors on Thursday nights and bouncers walked the edge of the floor with a level of intimidation guaranteed to give grown men the shits. I chuckled, and turned back, leaning in toward the mirror, and opening my makeup bag a little wider.

I had thirty minutes before the stretch limo was headed my way. There was no fucking way I was driving. That would just leave me stuck with a car I didn't plan on needing by the end of the night.

I glanced to my left and let my eyes move back and forth between the two pairs of shoes that best matched the dress that currently clung to every curve. My fingers pressed along the slope of my nose, enhancing the shadows on my face to get the attention of those who knew how to appreciate a well-dressed woman.

"Definitely the black Louboutin pumps," I murmured and turned back to the mirror, pushing my waist-length chestnut hair off my shoulders. Working quickly, I applied a bit more powder, leaving a golden sheen in the right areas, then outlined my eyes to make them more drawing. A cat-like look was almost appropriate for how I was feeling. Someone wanted a girl who purred, and if he had looks, money and a big cock..., I could purr as good as the next girl, and the way I was feeling… better, definitely better.

The time of being committed to someone and a good girl all the time had passed. Life hadn't handed out rings and church bells, but instead, a heaping dose of heartache and deceit.

"Not thinking about it tonight," I murmured and smiled sardonically before reaching for a glossy red lipstick to accentuate the fullness of my lips. Nothing pissed me off more than to have someone asking if I’d had Botox shots.

"No. They're naturally kissable. Wanna?" I puckered up to be silly for a few minutes since I was the only critic available for my performance.

My phone buzzed beside me and I let out a short yelp. Time to go. The car was waiting for me in the front of my apartment complex.

I slipped on my shoes while holding the door frame tightly to keep from tumbling over. Turning, I checked myself out one more time and squirted a little perfume under my neck and between my breasts, which hovered just above the V-neck cut of my dress.

My ID, credit card and lipstick were tucked next to a single key to my apartment, in a tiny black clutch that matched my dress perfectly.

"Time to score a client or a man for the night. Either will work... but both would be bliss." I walked quickly to the elevator and slipped in as a group of teenage boys turned my way and stood there in stony silence.

"Hi Johnny." I smiled at the oldest, who I knew since the kid had been in my building forever. His father was never home which was obvious by the choices Johnny made, but I had no room to point out his faults. I had too many of my own.

"Lila. You're looking..."

"Fucking hot," one of the other boys whispered, his eyes round as he watched me.

Johnny popped the kid in the chest as I chuckled. The door opened and I walked off, glancing over my shoulder and trying not to be seductive.

"Have fun and don't get into too much trouble, hm?"

He laughed and shook his head. "Yeah... you too."

The doorman held the door and smiled kindly at me as I walked into the cool night air. I wrapped my arms around my chest and cursed myself for not grabbing a light jacket.

Nothing would have matched anyway.

The driver got out of the car and walked around to my side, opening the door and holding it for me. "To Blaze, correct?"

"Yes." I got into the car, grateful for the warmth, and buckled up as excitement swirled in the pit of my stomach. There was nothing better than heading out for the evening with no plans regarding who I might meet or where I might end up.

It was by far the best part about being single. Like getting a big box of chocolates and having to bite into the creamy center of each one to see if you liked the flavor. That was my Thursday night adventure... every Thursday night.

"You meeting someone there, or are we picking up some girlfriends, madam?" The driver pulled the car out into the heavy traffic that would have us downtown in a matter of minutes.

"Nope. Just me. I never take friends when I go out. I'm looking for a date or a client. No need to get sucked into placating a friend half the night." I wrinkled my nose and he laughed.

The conversation died after that, which I was grateful for. I tapped my foot to the music flowing from the radio and my mood had settled from overtly excited to anticipatory by the time we pulled up to the club.

"Here we are, ma'am." He opened the door and offered me a hand.

I took it and got out of the car, thanking him and walking straight to the front door as if I owned the place. The line wrapped around the building, but I'd been there enough times to know most of the bouncers on a first name basis.

"Lila! Girl, you are looking exceptionally delicious tonight." The large muscled bouncer smiled and pushed the door open for me to slip through.

"Not looking too bad yourself, Clay." I licked at my lips and slipped into the club as he chuckled and shook his head. They all knew me well enough to know that I wasn't looking for much more than a night of fun, so getting involved with me would do nothing but leave them frustrated by hoping for another time, which wouldn’t happen. Dating was for someone with stronger resolve. That someone wasn't me.

There was no time to waste since I hadn't been able to get out of a business meeting the weekend before so had missed my Thursday night. I was yearning for the kind of attention that only the right guy could give.

Now to find him.

I walked to the bar and placed my clutch in front of me before smiling up at the new bartender. He wasn't much over twenty, with his hair a bit messy and his eyes full of mischief.

"I thought my night was going good, but now... fuck me. You have to be the prettiest thing I've seen in months." He leaned over, sliding his fingers along the bar top between us. "What can I getcha tonight, gorgeous?"

Brushing my hair behind my shoulder again, I glanced up and acted as if I was reading the various liquor labels behind him.

"Hmmmm... I'm thinking a Jack and Coke. Can you make it a double and throw in two olives for me?" I shifted my gaze to rest on him as his smile widened.

"I've never had such a request, but I might just have to try it myself sometime soon." He winked at me and turned, busying himself with making the drink. His black jeans hugged his ass and I'd be lying if I didn't say I was interested, but honestly he wasn't my type. He was missing the biggest part of what I was after... money. Rich boys didn’t want commitment.

The deep scent of expensive cologne washed over me and I stifled a smile as I glanced to my left where someone had moved in beside me.

His blond hair was a perfect mixture of shades no salon could ever imitate, and was perfectly cut on the sides, but messy as if he'd run his hand through it a million times. Sadness sat around the edges of his ocean blue eyes, but it didn't diminish how incredibly stunning he was.

I smiled shyly, privately smirking at the idea of having a shy bone in my body. The bartender turned and placed my drink in front of me as the handsome stranger nodded toward my beverage.

"Make it two." He glanced at me, his eyes moving around my face as if he were trying to assess the fullness of my personality in a glance.

"Do I make the cut?" Lifting my drink to my lips, I sucked the dark poison into my mouth through the tiny straw I was given.

"What cut is that?" He took his drink from the bartender and lifted a large wad of cash from his pocket, giving the younger man a hundred. "Start a tab for us."

"Yes, Sir." He took the cash and disappeared with a sour look on his boyishly handsome face.

Mr. Richey Rich tucked the wad of cash back into his inside jacket pocket and picked up his drink for a quick sip.

"Your actions answered my question." I let out a soft laugh and took another sip of my drink as he turned and pressed his back to the bar top. His black suit was tailor made, fitting him like a glove and leaving me wanting to move a little closer.

He crossed his arms over his chest and turned toward me, a smile lifting his lips a little. "Where are your friends? A woman at a bar without friends is a bit dangerous, don't you think?"

"Dangerous? For me or you?"

He didn't respond, but winked just before his eyes moved down the length of my body. "Both of us, potentially."

"I might have come with a gaggle of women. That's for me to know and you to discover." I gave him a smile and moved from the bar, shifting to stand in front of him in order to take in the full picture.

No wedding ring. An elegant, white shirt—slightly unbuttoned at the top—and an Audemar Piguet on his wrist next to a black leather bracelet.

It all pulled together nicely, to display the high potential for a night of great fun for me. He was a wealthy playboy who liked the smell of cash and sex, when perfectly combined. I'd seen him a million times with a different face but a similar story. They were a dime a dozen, and yet... I was interested.

They didn't like strings and I didn't either.

"Do I make the cut?" He asked, turning to pick up his drink again.

He wasn't childish or needy like some of the men I'd run into. Money had a way of turning good men into infants or complete dicks. To meet one somewhere in the middle was highly unlikely, but one could always hope. He was confident and his gaze, so intently locked onto mine, left me a little breathless.

"I'm not sure yet." I shrugged and picked up the straw in my drink, stabbing the olive with it before lifting it to my lips and playing with it a little.

He watched closely before turning his gaze back to lock onto mine once more. "Olives. Such an odd request for a Jack and Coke. You like things a little non-traditional? Like to step outside the lines of reason and status quo to see what new experience might await you?"

He was baiting me and I liked it. A lot.

I ate the olive and stabbed another one, lifting it to his lips this time. I stepped between his legs and pressed my free hand into the swell of his chest.

He took care of himself... good.

"I'm always looking for a new experience, but so many people promise explosive opportunity and yet just can't seem to follow through." I rubbed the olive along his lips, watching him for movement.

The moment he moved to eat it, I jerked it away and sucked it into my mouth as he chuckled. "Your point, pretty girl. It's only one you'll get. I'm too competitive to hand you another one."

I gave him the most seductive look I had, sucking my bottom lip into my mouth as I let my eyes run down his body, resting on the curve at the front of his slacks and letting out a needy sigh.

"Looks like I'll have to just take them from you then."

"You think?" He slid a hand onto my hip and tugged me forward, leaving me flush against him.

I turned my hips a bit to rub myself against him. He had to know I was judging his worth by his size. Yep... he would do beautifully. Everything I wanted for the night.

Looks, money and a big cock.

"You've made your first mistake... don't make another."

"Or what?" His strong fingers slid into my hair. "You gonna punish me?"

"In more ways than you can imagine." I smiled and gently tugged myself out of his hold.