“But who came up with the idea initially?” I asked. “How did it come about?”
And Kane was silent for a moment before turning those blue eyes to me, penetrating even in the hazy interior of the sauna.
“It was mine baby girl,” he rumbled. “I got together the initial group of guys who provided the seed money.”
I gaped.
“But why? I mean, you have everything already, why did you decide to put together the Billionaires Club? What does it do that you didn’t already have?”
And he looked pensive for a moment.
“It’s about where I’m from,” he said, that voice smooth yet tense at once. “When you start from nothing like me, I guess you always have something to prove. Nothing’s ever enough.”
I frowned a little.
“But you’ve made it,” I said quietly but emphatically. “You’ve made it, you’re the one on top now, the man that everyone bows to. Why do you need a place like this?”
Kane shrugged again.
“I guess some guys can never get enough, and I’m one of them,” he said darkly. “When I started out, no one would give me the time of day. I don’t know if you know honey, but New York’s got a lot of private clubs, places where you wine and dine your clients, rubbing shoulders with the elites, there’s a tangible feeling of “I made it” once you get inside.”
“You mean like the Four Seasons?” I asked, referring to JFK’s favorite dining spot back in the day. “I’m sorry,” I rushed, embarrassed, “I just don’t know much about the fancy scene in Manhattan, I’m not from that world.”
And the big man’s hand on my back was soothing, stroking in concentric circles.
“Naw, no worries little girl, I like how you’re not from that world. Because I’m not either,” he rumbled slowly. “Not at first at least. But back in the day, I wanted it, I needed to feel like I belonged. So places like the University Club, the Union Club, hell even Tiger 21, I felt like I needed to get myself into these places to prove something. What exactly, I don’t know,” he said softly, with an edge to his voice. “But I was young back then, a whippersnapper with places to go, things to do, and membership was another notch on the bedpost.”
I paused.
“But of course they wanted you,” I said hesitantly, looking at him. “With everything you have to offer, your fortune, your power, your influence, your good looks ….” My voice trailed off and I stopped embarrassed. Oh my god, had those words really come out of my mouth? Oh god, oh god.
But Kane just smiled at me, playing with my curls with one hand.
“So you think I’m good-looking, huh?” he teased in a low growl. “Makes an old man feel good.”
“You’re not old!” I shot back quickly. “You’re young!”
And the alpha threw back his head and laughed, the sound absorbed by the pine walls of the sauna, muffled and discreet.
“Naw baby, I’m forty-five, but it feels good to hear that you think otherwise,” he said, dropping a kiss on my shoulder. “I’m double your age honey, more than double,” he added.
And I flushed. So the billionaire was twenty-seven years older than me. But still, he wasn’t old, I was looking at him right now, clad in nothing but a towel, and there was nothing decrepit or saggy about the man. Kane was all bronzed muscle, broad shoulders and ripped abs, with long, strong legs finishing off the picture.
“You’re not old,” I said again softly but stubbornly, shaking my head. “You’re not.”
And the big man merely laughed again, pulling me to sit in his lap, resting his chin on my shoulder.
“It warms a man’s heart to hear you say that baby,” he growled deep in his chest. “But I’m an old dude compared to you, it just happens that my most important parts work fine,” he added with a wink. Because sure enough, I could feel a hard rod beneath my bottom, a steel shaft beginning to form, ridged and insistent. And I was hungry, oh yeah, but I wanted to know more about the man before our conversation moved to the physical.
“But what was it about these clubs?” I breathed once more, looking into his eyes. “What happened with the clubs?”
Kane’s eyes took a faraway look.
“Well despite the fact that you think highly of me,” he said dryly, “Turns out that they don’t agree. Honey, I applied for membership with a dozen of these places and was turned down by everyone. Every. Single. One. They didn’t want me, didn’t matter that I had billions, didn’t matter that the papers called me “The Whiz Kid of Wall Street.””
I was stunned silent for a moment.
“But why?” I demanded. “Who were they admitting if they weren’t admitting you?”
And he shrugged.
“People who had names. People who were from old money. What I had, they didn’t want, I was just the new guy on the block, one who actually owned the block, sure, but they didn’t give a shit. They were more interested in Davis Lovington III or Willy Hemphill Junior. They weren’t interested in guy like me, someone from nowhere.”