Forever Yours: A Billionaire Romance/C8 Forever Yours: A Billionaire Romance
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Forever Yours: A Billionaire Romance/C8 Forever Yours: A Billionaire Romance
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C8 Forever Yours: A Billionaire Romance

Estera Roberts’ POV

(Present Time: A Few Days Before)

The girls and I spent the better part of the following day shopping, but when it came to what to wear for the upcoming gig, I chose a black leather bodysuit with a matching knee-length boot and mask. The others waited to see me in it before rushing to pick theirs. The three of us adorned similar attire and stood in front of the boutique mirror, admiring ourselves then we exchanged satisfied grins, turned to the shop attendant, and chorused, “We will take these.”

We later joined Ann and Tamika at a Pole dancing dance and fitness center somewhere along West 27th Street and spent a few hours having a crash course on strength-building exercises before braving choreographed moves. We were also taught aerial hoops with Ann and Tamika showing us the step-by-step moves.

And at every chance I got, I sketched the detailed moves in steps, and thus when it was my time to show what I have learned for the day. I let out a deep breath and let my memory guard my every move. When the instructor gave me a fist bump at the end of my session and the girls clapped with all smiles. I was confident I had done something decent.

However, it was one thing to practice the move routinely in front of your friends, and quite another to try and do all of that to enthrall a total stranger. When a tall white male was brought in for us to practice our moves on, I almost bolted. Then I thought of what we have gone through to come this far and I was never a quitter. I wasn’t about to run from the challenge now.

Tamika brought a bottle of vodka for us to do shots as we waited our turn and I took about seven successively, ignoring the burn in my throat. Shaking my body like someone warming up for a boxing match or a salsa, I paced back and forth garnering the courage for the spectacle I was about to make of myself. Ann videoed the session so we could watch how we did afterward. My heart lunged in my chest when she called out to me that it was my turn. I had completely zoned out.

Taking a deep breath, I stood about a few feet from the man. He was made to sit on the chair at the side of the room and he gave me a polite smile. His gray eyes sparkled with interest and I wondered if he was some kind of a regular. What kind of a man volunteers to be used as a dummy for a strip dance in a dance studio?

I soon realized despite the alcohol in my system, and the girls clapping for me to cheer me on. I just couldn't get into the act with the stranger. I saw his smile waver when I halted my advancement twice and returned to my starting point. I was acutely aware that all my failed attempts were being recorded and that was not helping.

“You can do it, Estie!” Ashley and Ameera chorused, hooting loudly. By now I know dancing for the stranger wouldn’t do, I decided then to dance for someone that I know would tease me unending about the act. Someone I know would be extremely fun to striptease for. I took a deep breath and dimmed my eyes, conjuring Cole in my head, and slowly imposed his face on the stranger.

I started to walk towards the man in an unhurried seductive gait while swaying my hips, and this time I went all the way. I took my ample time, dancing around him, over his lap without body contact, and went on all fours prowling with my smoldering gaze fixated on his. I watched him swallow and adjust himself on the seat. Then I placed my legs on each side of his lap, gyrating close to his body with no body contact whatsoever. I felt quite invisible. I made sure to make him believe I was going to go all the way in action like when I leaned forward close to his ears or the corner of his mouth then pulled back just when I was half an inch away.

When I was about to end my session, I leaned towards him as if I was going to finally kiss him on the lips with my mouth slightly parted, and my eyes burrowing into his. I noticed how he gravitated towards me with his eyes darkened with lust. I smiled in triumph, feeling like someone who had won a conquest, and pulled back, walking away to meet the other girls. I heard the man swear under his breath and asked the instructor to give him six minutes before he could get up. The girls giggled. Ameera and Ashley hopped with excitement and rushed forward to wrap me up in a hug.

“That was breathtaking!” Ashley gushed.

“You were magnificent!” Ameera interjected.

I nodded, still breathing hard. I could not dare look back at the man. Even the thought of what I had just done was making my neck and face heat up. Then I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder and I turned around, a tall hefty looking white male stared down at me with a wide grin on his rugged face. I swallowed nervously as I stared up into his green eyes. He offered me a gold-plated business card and I took it gingerly, darting him a quizzical gaze.

“I’m Bobby,” he introduced in a deep, breathy tone. Ann and Tamika came to flank him by the side, smiling at me. “You and your friends just secured spots for yourselves for this coming Saturday Bachelor's gig. And if you ever feel like doing this again or for a living, use this card.”

“I’m a doctor,” I said in a daze.

“I know,” he replied, winked, and walked away.

My friends hopped in excitement, evidently happy that we had finally gotten what we wanted. And that was when my nerves started to kick in.

The party was supposed to be the following Friday and we were asked to join all the other girls for practice sessions midweek. And on Sunday night I could barely sleep. I kept remembering what was required of me and was scared to death of failing at it or to be specific, freezing as I did with the green-eyed stranger. I would hate to be the reason the girls lose their money.

As a result of all my worrying, I turned out to be a complete nervous wreck throughout Monday. I was jumpy and nervous and ran at the mention of surgery.

Ever since I walked through the doors of Memorial Hospital, I had done everything I could to prove I was going to be a formidable contender in the surgical world, and of course the next best Surgeon in the entire country - if not the world.

I had taken every chance I could to assist top surgeons in major surgeries, ensuring they know I am dependable and would have their back in any difficult cases or the very worst of scenarios. And that–I trust–had made Cole, who was the head of my department, assign me solo cases that someone in my level shouldn’t be handling. And thus it was quite worrying when I duck each time a nurse calls out to me or even approaches me. By 3 pm Tuesday, I wasn’t overly surprised to see Cole glowering down at me at the cafeteria.

“A word, Doctor Roberts?” He said as soon as I bravely raised my eyes to meet him. I nodded in resignation and he took the seat opposite mine.

“Hey,” I said with forced bravado.

“What’s going on?” he asked, arching his thick eyebrow at me. I found myself darting my gazes to admire his strong jawline and the perfectly formed face. Nothing seemed to be out of place. How is he not even a model? “Roberts?” he called my attention and I swallowed softly before meeting his intense eyes.

“I’m fine. I am not dying or anything of the sort,” I said in a low tone, trying to make a joke of my situation.

“The surgical team is used to you working as someone possessed, now you are not. Did something happen over the weekend you might want to share?”

“Like what?!” I said in almost a squeak and sat straighter on my seat. Holding his gaze intently and wondering if he was the type that frequents strip clubs, and if there was a possibility he might be at the same party we were invited to on Friday.

At the thought, my eyes widened in dismay. But then I relaxed a bit, knowing I would be wearing a mask and he would not even know it was me if by a stroke of bad luck he happened to be amongst the invitees. Cole was a well-known respected Surgeon in New York, but I could not place him in such a setting.

“Is it me then? Did I … cross a line?” He asked in his rich husky tone.

“What?! No! I can assure you, we are good,” I said quickly in protest, meeting his scrutinizing gaze. The last thing I needed was things to get awkward between us. By now it was evident Cole wanted me, and I would definitely not refuse him if he gets me worked up to a point of no return. The man looked like a sculpture of a Greek god! Come on!

But a lot of things are holding me back from him. And no it was not because he was my Boss—for now at least—till I complete my internship later in the year. It was the very big problem of me being a 26-year-old virgin. But still, with that justifiable excuse in my head, my heart palpitated in negation to the claim.

There was something or someone holding me back from Cole. And even though I entertained the thought of giving myself to him, and even imagined how exquisite it would be to do so. I just couldn’t do it. Cole was a man I wished I could have wild passionate sex with - the perfect office affair that would be so much worth the risk. But going the whole mile just always left me cold.

“We are good, Cole,” I said, allowing a certain depth of warmness to sip into my tone as I subtly brushed my fingers against the back of his hand. I watched him work his jaw as he stared back at me with eyes that had suddenly gone dark and smoldering. Then he looked away, cleared his throat, and stood up.

“If you are absolutely certain nothing is wrong and you are well, Doctor, I will expect you to join me for a pharyngectomy in two hours,” he said in his usually cool tone, the one he uses with everyone else in the hospital.

A small smile tugged the corners of my lips. I took a deep breath, exhaled, and replied, “Yes, Doctor Foster.” A pharyngectomy is a surgery to remove and replace all or part of the pharynx (throat), and it was not the kind of surgery I would pass off, and he knew it.

I drank the coffee I had been swirling in my cup for a few minutes now, and stood up, following him from afar. All my fears in regards to the Friday gig were pushed to the back of my mind. I think I may have a little understanding of why Ameera sometimes calls me a lancet junkie. I suppose all I needed was for someone who knew my love for what I do or perhaps a like mind to give me a gentle shake. My eyes traveled down the length of him.

Cole wore his white doctor’s coat over gray pants and a light blue shirt which was turned up by the sleeves, showing off his strong muscled arms. His clothing was unable to hide his toned body, it only gave a hint to what lies beneath. I studied his perfect body like one would a forbidden fruit or a tray of confectioneries when one is supposed to be on diet. When he turned and caught my gaze he grinned and winked. I gape as if I was just caught shoplifting. Clearing my throat, I directed my eyes at the plain floor. It was crystal clear that I was attracted to him, and he in turn wanted me as bad if not more.

Now the problem was, would I ever be brave enough to allow myself to cross the line with Coal? Or do I intend to wait forever for a man who was part of a life I had left behind? A man who may have forgotten we ever crossed paths? My heart tightened so painfully, I breathed through parted lips to ease the pain.

Libre Baskerville
Gentium Book Basic
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