CEO'S Secret Baby: A Standalone Surprise Pregnancy Romance - Iona Rose (which ebook reader .txt) 📗

I remained indifferent because no matter how crazy things got I planned to stay on the sidelines.

“Yup! Foam party,” Anne repeated unapologetically.

“What are we, nineteen? Foam parties are ridiculous!” Tracy huffed.

“No, they’re not!” Anne countered. “They’re a helluva lot of fun, and did you miss the part about ‘the hot bartender’? I have a grinding appointment with him tonight.”

“His mouth was in yours half the night yesterday, and you still don’t know his name?” Tracy countered.

Anne set her empty glass down and leaned back on her bed, her arms behind her head, eyes shut with a massive smile across her face. “I don’t need to. What’s important is that the entire floor is going to be steamy… and wet… and he’s going to be there…” She gave us a glance, bright with perversion. “Preferably behind me. I’m wearing white and no bra.”

I smiled. “I’ve never been to a foam party before,” I said to Anne. “Heard about them though. Are they really that bad?”

Tracy’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? Not even in college?”

I shook my head.

“Well, you’re not missing anything. They’re disgusting. The entire floor is covered with soap suds that may or may not blind you before the end of the night. Everyone is wet and stepping on you and pushing each other out of the way. And the falling? Ugh, that’s the worst part. You’ll most likely be sliding and slipping into vomit and pee. People even have sex in there so you can add a floor full of cum to that mix.”

“Oh my God. Tracy!” Anne scolded. “Leah, don’t listen to her. It’s gonna be fun.”

“Hate to burst your bubble,” Tracy countered, as she couldn’t hold back her smile at the pun. “You’re going to wish you came with me to the Fire of Anatolia dance show.” Tracy nodded.

I smiled with her. “Dance show?”

Tracy sat up excitedly, eager to sell her agenda. “Yes, and it’s going to be fabulous.”

“Isn’t that held at the Aspendos Arena?” Anne asked.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Leah, that’s a two hour drive.”

“Oh hell no,” I refused. “I got carsick on the way here from the airport. I’m not riding in anything until we’re leaving.”

Tracy settled back on her bed with a defeated sigh.

Anne chuckled in victory. “Don’t worry, Leah,” she said, “the actual foam dispensing will only begin at about 2 am.”

“Oh, I’m not worried,” I said. “I plan to watch from a very safe and dry place.”

Tracy’s gaze turned fiery. “I will kill you.” She turned to Anne. “And you.”

Anne tapped my hand. “Great choice, Leah. Great choice.

Just before midnight, we arrived at the Havana club in the center of the city.

We were dressed accordingly‒me in a leather miniskirt, a black tube top and knee-high alligator sandals.

Tracy wore baggy jeans and a fitted graphic tee with the words, don’t talk to me, printed across the front. She was long over what had been our routine since our arrival of partying until sunrise and then heading back to the hotel to deal with the resulting hangovers and exhaustion for the better part of the following day.

Anne however, was the star of the night. She wore a smile she hadn’t been able to wipe off all evening at the prospect of her night. She had come as intended, braless and in a white cotton dress.

“You’re already nipping,” Tracy pointed at her chest as we headed down the dimly lit stairs towards the club’s main entrance.

“I’m also already wet,” Anne said unashamedly.

“Wow!” Tracy responded.

“Exactly,” Anne said. “I’m choosing to have fun. You can hang out in the corner with your flats and sip water.” The club’s stamp was pressed to the inside of her wrist then she shimmied to the rhythm of the deafening electronic music as she made her way into the club.

I put my hand around Tracy’s reluctant frame and led us both along.

“Why does she have so much say over our itinerary?” She grumbled.

“Because she arranged the trip,” I said.

“If I don’t get a say in what we do tomorrow, I’m going home.” Tracy pouted.

“Let’s just give her a few more days,” I said. “She’ll tire of the clubs soon and we’ll be able to get to all the other fun stuff.”

After this, we couldn't speak without having to lean in and scream into each other’s ears, so we saved our energy and headed straight to the bar.

Two glasses of dirty martinis were already waiting for us, and Anne’s beloved bartender’s tongue already down her throat as she leaned across the counter.

“Makmad!’ Someone yelled at him.

He pulled away from his frolicking enough to notice myself and Tracy as we took our seats. “Ladies,” he greeted.

We gave him a nod before turning condemning looks to our lust stricken friend.

It was then I first spotted him.

Somehow, it was as though I felt his eyes on me and was compelled into turning my gaze specifically towards him.

He was quite the distance away at the curve of the circular bar and just as I picked up my glass, he did the same to his tumbler of golden liquor.

He was speaking to the man by his side, his gaze fixated on him and the vibrant hues from the lights around the club dancing in his seemingly translucent eyes.

He looked handsome, more handsome than any man I’d seen in a long time, and I found myself unable to look away. His structured face was clean shaven, a particularly rare sight for people on vacation on this side of the world. I’d spotted the occasional stubble, but a clean shave seemed quite rare.

He appeared to be confident, but it took absolutely nothing away from the raw, masculine aggression I could almost feel from where he sat. A chiseled jawline and silky hair brushed away from his face in perfect waves. His lips… they were just the perfect curve to compliment his features. His eyes looked so intense that they could literally make me combust if they were to ever settle on me.

And then they did.

He turned as