“Another round, please,” Ford said to the bartender, pointing at the shot glass in front of him along with the ones in front of Dominick and me.
The bartender lifted a bottle of whiskey from behind the counter and refilled the small glasses.
Ford held his up in the air and said, “To getting shit-faced.”
“I’m already there,” I admitted. “Jesus. Enough. No more shots after this next one.”
“You’re tapping out?” Dominick dared.
I nodded, the movement so exaggerated that my head no longer felt attached. “Hell yes.”
“The pussy says he’s done,” Dominick grunted at Ford. “You know what that means, don’t you?”
“It means nothing,” I said to them. “It means I have a meeting first thing tomorrow that I can’t fucking miss. And it means you two are assholes if you try to goad me into drinking more.”
Dominick held out his hand and said to the bartender, “Bottle. Please.”
She placed the half-empty bottle of whiskey in his grip, and he refilled the glasses again, looking at me when he voiced, “Drink up, pussy.”
“Fuck all three of you,” I said even though there was only two.
Maybe I was including the bartender.
Hell, I didn’t even fucking know at this point.
“Listen, dickhead”—my head dropped to see the time on my Rolex, my eyes squinting so the numbers didn’t jump—“my driver is outside, waiting to take me home, and my ass is planning on being in that car in two minutes.”
“And here I thought, you were about to redeem yourself,” Ford said. “I have a sitter tonight. You’re not ditching out early; you don’t have the balls.”
I threw back the whiskey Dominick had poured and slammed the glass on the bar top when I’d meant to just set it down. “My meeting is with Walter. I can’t cancel. Out of alll people, I can’t do that to him.”
“Dude, stop crying,” Dominick said. “You owe us. It’s as simple as that.”
Crying.
I could strangle the motherfucker.
But if I stayed any longer, the drinking wouldn’t stop. Neither would the teasing, and my brothers were two people I hated to disappoint.
I got up from my barstool and pounded their fists. “I’ll see you at the office.”
My suit jacket was lying across a nearby chair, and I grabbed it, rushing to the door before either of them could stop me. Once I got outside, I found my SUV parked at the base of the lot and climbed into the backseat.
“Mr. Dalton,” my driver said, “am I taking you home?”
“Please, Steven. Thank you.”
As he began to drive, I took out my phone and tried to make sense of what I was seeing. I was too drunk to reply to emails, but that didn’t stop me from reading some of the ones that had come in. Most were work-related. Clients needing contracts reviewed, questions about potential deals, issues that had arisen during acquisitions.
So many fucking billable hours.
I moved on to my social media, scanning through the pictures, my thumb swiping, making them move so fast that I just caught snippets of faces, bodies, scenery—nothing important. But one of them caught my attention, causing me to scroll back, stopping on the photo.
Fuck me.
Jo had posted the picture a few hours ago. It was of her at a Marlins game. Her hair was braided on the sides with a hat on top. She wore a team jersey that she’d tied to show off her stomach and cutoffs on the bottom.
I went to blow up the photo and accidentally liked it.
Goddamn it.
I moved on to the next picture of her in a long dress and a hat similar to the one she’d worn to the beach, and I realized I hadn’t seen this photograph.
I’d followed her Instagram on the plane ride to Miami, but work had been keeping me so busy the last week that I guessed I hadn’t spent much time checking out her account.
I had the time now.
There were photos of her with friends, but most were solo shots. There were ones of her in a bikini at the beach, posing in dresses with sunsets in the background, at clubs and restaurants. My favorites were the ones where she was cozy in her apartment, the faraway look in her eyes telling me she was fantasizing.
About me.
No wonder I hadn’t checked her account before. It was dangerous as hell.
Just as fucking dangerous as it was to text her, yet I found myself pulling up the last message we’d exchanged, my thumbs hitting the keys.
Me: You’re so fucking hot.
Jo: Sounds like someone’s missed me. Are you a Marlins fan?
Me: Nah, I’m just a Jo fan.
Jo: Does that earn me rope? Or maybe handcuffs this time?
My cock started to fucking throb inside my suit, my hard-on grinding against my zipper. I shifted my boxer briefs, making more room for my dick so it wouldn’t bust through my pants.
Me: Don’t fucking tease me. I’ll send a plane for you right now.
Jo: You can’t have me. I’m headed to the Bahamas tomorrow night for my birthday.
Me: Your birthday? You didn’t tell me …
Jo: I’m telling you now. Now, be a good boy and wish me a happy 22nd.
Twenty-two.
I didn’t know, nor had she mentioned it to me while I was in Miami.
The time on my phone showed it was a quarter past eleven. My meeting with Walter was at eight tomorrow morning. If I got on the plane now, it would be tight, but I would have just enough time to wish her a happy birthday in person and then fly back to LA to make the meeting.
I pulled up my Favorites and hit my assistant’s name, listening to her answer after the second ring.
“Val, I need the plane.”
“Okay, hang on one second. Let me call the pilot.”
The sound of her voice told me I’d woken her. But it didn’t matter; this job was twenty-four/seven, and she got paid a hefty sum to always be available for me, knowing to expect my calls at all hours.
“Jenner?” She didn’t wait for me to reply before she continued, “There’s a problem. Your parents are on the plane as we speak, flying to Brazil.”
“They’re flying … where?” I raked my hand through my hair, trying to remember if they’d told me about this trip. “Oh fuck, that’s right.”
“Should I reach out to the private airlines and see if they have a plane available or look for a commercial flight?”
I was far too drunk to fuck with anything commercial, and finding another private jet could take hours—time I didn’t have.
“Change of plans,” I told her. “I need you to shop for a gift instead. It’s for a woman, a twenty-second birthday. I’ll text you the name and address.”
“Do you have a preference on the type of gift?”
I stared out the window as Steven began the hike up the Hollywood Hills. “Something beautiful, something she won’t forget.”
“What’s my budget?”
I sighed. “You don’t have one. Make it memorable, Val.”
“I’m on it.”
I thanked her and disconnected the call and pulled up Jo’s message.
Me: For the record, I just tried to fly there, so I could say those words to you in person. My parents took the jet overseas, or I’d be on my way right now.
Jo: Don’t tease me, Jenner.
Me: Would you want me for your birthday?
Jo: In ways you couldn’t possibly understand.
This girl did something to my cock. She taunted it, teased it; she made me want to fucking pound her in ways she couldn’t possibly understand.
Seven days since I’d seen her, and even though I’d been swamped with work, I hadn’t been able to get her out of my head.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her body.
The only thing I wanted in this moment was to tie her to my bed and rip off that jersey with my teeth, kiss my way up those beautiful legs, and bury my mouth between them.
I wanted to rub my nose across her pussy.
I wanted her scent all over my fucking face.
I wanted her wetness in my beard and on my lips, tasting her every time I licked them.
I wanted to devour her.
I wanted to fucking savor her …
Me: I think you’re wrong about that …
Me: Have a good birthday, gorgeous. Celebrate your ass off, but not too hard—you know how much I love that fucking ass. This moment only comes around once, so enjoy it.
Jo: Thank you. <3
Jo: Are you nuts? Jenner, I have no words right now. I’m absolutely shocked you did this for me …
Jo: The bag is so incredibly beautiful and the special interior—I’m completely dead over it. What an amazing, beyond generous present. Please know how much I appreciate this gift and YOU. I love it. Truly. Thank you sooo, so much.
I smiled as I read the text from Jo, my lips widening even more as I viewed the picture she’d sent, showing her wearing the bag.
My assistant had texted me the receipt from Gucci, so I knew all about the three thousand dollars she had spent on Jo. But after my assistant made the purchase, I decided it wasn’t enough.
It wasn’t personal, the way I wanted her gift to be.
So, I’d reached out to the store and had them contact an artist, who painted Jo’s name on the inside of the bag along with a small skyline of Vegas above it.
I blew up the photo to get a better look. I knew nothing about purses, but the large red crocodile-looking-skin bag looked sexy as hell on her shoulder.
Me: It looks stunning on you.
“Who’s making you smile so hard?” Walter asked, returning from the restroom.
I glanced up from my phone, shoving it back into my pocket. “A business deal that just closed.”
“Bullshit.” He placed his napkin on his lap. “You’ve been in this business for far too long to get a hard-on over real estate. Plus, you’ve closed deals for me that have exceeded half a billion dollars, and I’ve never seen you smile like that. It’s a woman. Who is she?”
I shook my head. “Nah …”
“You think I don’t know what a man looks like when he’s in love? Come on, son. I’ve been around the block plenty of times in my old age. That’s a smile caused by a woman—nothing else.”
I was impressed that he could read me so well. Practicing law had given me this enigmatic edge. Most people had no idea what I was thinking, and I preferred it that way. Aside from my brothers—those cocky bastards who thought they knew everything—Jo was the only other person who seemed to have a way inside my head.
“She’s someone I met on vacation. It’s nothing serious. We live on opposite coasts, and we’re in different places in our lives.” I thought of her trying on her graduation gown, studying for finals that I assumed were coming up, while I sat in this meeting with my top client. Man, two different places was an understatement. “But she’s a good girl, and I hear those are hard to find.”
“I knew there was a but coming.” He gripped my shoulder, squeezing it. “Take it from someone who knows. There aren’t many good ones out there. When you find one, hold on to her. Put a ring on her finger and then make her a mother.”
I chuckled. “Ring, children—hell, I’m not ready for that.”
“You’d be surprised what love can do to a man, Jenner. One minute, you’re chasing pussy into a public restroom, and the next, you’re picking out baby names.”
Baby names?
Fuck no. That was Ford’s thing.
Buying a ring?
That was more Dominick’s thing.
I was good right where I was, which was sending gifts and seeing Jo when I was in Florida.
But even if she were here and she fit into my life, would that make a difference? Would I want more?
Fuck if I knew.
“I’ll take your word for it, my man.” I reached inside my briefcase and pulled out the paperwork I’d prepared. “I’ve reviewed each of the sites you sent over, and I’ve put together some thoughts. Out of all the parcels in Park City, only three caught my eye. I’ve outlined them here”—I pointed at the sheets of paper and the notes I’d left in the margins—“but I have to say, I have a favorite.”
Walter had followed through with my advice, now focusing solely on Utah for his next build-out, and he’d had his realtor scout the available lots in the area. I’d been to Park City enough times to know the locations, and with help from his accountant, we were able to run some numbers, estimates on his return of investment.
He reviewed my notes, looking up as he asked, “Do you think I need to move quickly?”
“You mean, have I heard rumors of your competition coming into the same area, scooping up one of these parcels? No. I think you’re safe. Most of the high-end chains are already there and established. The boutique hotels can’t afford this land. But could the Ritz sweep in and stake their claim? Sure. If that happens, I’ll find out long before they make an offer, and we’ll make our move.”
He nodded. “I need time to think this out.” He broke eye contact and waved our waitress over to order. “Scotch”—he held up two fingers, signaling one for each of us—“and make them neat.” He turned back toward me.
I checked my watch. “It’s not even nine in the morning.” I laughed, my head instantly throbbing, the hangover present and raging. “Isn’t it a little too early to celebrate?”
“I’m in the mood to drink.”
I couldn’t get up from the table and jump into my SUV that was waiting outside the restaurant, telling Walter to fuck off like I would if Dominick and Ford were here instead.
Walter wasn’t someone I could deny for any reason.
I took a deep breath, staring at my eggs that I was having a hard time getting down. “Then, let’s drink.”
“Hello?” I said into my phone the moment I walked into my house, returning from a long, scotch-filled morning with Walter.
The booze was doing its job.
I’d be taking the rest of the day off, whether my schedule permitted it or not.
“Hi.”
Jo.
Fuck.
I knew better than to answer without checking who was calling. It could have been a client, and I would have been really fucked, far too buzzed to speak to them in this state. But hearing her voice was a welcome surprise.
“Jo …” I went to grab a water from the fridge and ended up with a beer, carrying it to my wall of windows that overlooked the pool and the Hills. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“I know I sent a text, thanking you, but it’s not enough. You need to hear my voice and just how appreciative I am.”
I placed my hand on the glass. “You’re sweet.”
“No, you’re the sweet one. Jenner, oh my God, this bag.” She paused. “You didn’t have to send anything—I hope you know that. I certainly didn’t tell you it was my birthday to score a gift.”
“That’s not why I sent it, trust me.”
“Good. Well, it was honestly the best surprise ever. My girls can’t stop gawking at it. Monica is dying of jealousy, but I’ve threatened her life. If she goes anywhere near it, she’s toast.”
I opened the door and stepped outside, needing the breeze on my face. “I’m glad you love it. That makes me happy.”
“We haven’t spoken since you left. Are things good? How’s work? And how was Seattle?” She giggled. “I assume all must be going well. You’re liquored up, and it’s not even noon.”
I laughed. “How the hell do you know that?”
“Really? Come on. I know you better than you think I do, Jenner. I can hear it in your voice.”
Goddamn it.
My dick turned hard at the sound of my name, at her incredibly sexy voice.
But something else she had said really hit home.
She knows me.
“You’re not wrong,” I admitted. “It’s been a long-ass morning with a client who wanted to chase his breakfast with bottomless scotch.”
“The only better way to start your day would be waking up in Miami.”
I took a seat on one of the lounge chairs, rubbing that thought across my forehead. “Are you sure you’re not headed to LA anytime soon?”
“Why, Mr. Dalton?” Her voice had turned sassy, making me want to spank her fucking ass. “Do you want to do something extra naughty to me?”
I ground my teeth together. “You have no fucking idea.”
She couldn’t possibly.
First, her texts, and now, this conversation—nothing but fucking teases.
I didn’t want to just spank that ass. I wanted to heal it after, rubbing circles across it with my palm.
And then I wanted to be inside of it.
“I think I do …” She exhaled in a way that told me she was as worked up as me. “But I can’t make it to LA. I have the busiest week coming up. We’re leaving tonight for the Bahamas, and as soon as we get back, I have two papers due, three exams, and a concert next weekend.” I could hear her smile. “You’re the one with the jet. Why don’t you come here?”
I didn’t remember setting my beer down, but I picked it up and guzzled several sips.
Why is she so fucking irresistible?
Why am I seconds away from phoning my assistant to have her reserve the plane?
“What about your concert?” I asked. “If I came to Miami, would you skip it for me?”
I was giving her an out.
A reason to cancel this ludicrous idea. My ass staying planted in LA was far better for both of us.
“Come on, Jenner. With your connections, I’m positive you can score a ticket to the sold-out show and probably get better seats than Monica and I bought.”
If I couldn’t, Dominick or Max could.
Why am I even considering this?
Going to Florida would only make us closer, and that wasn’t something we could fix, living so far apart. It would only make me think about her more, and she already owned half the thoughts in my fucking brain.
“Hold on,” I told her, and I pulled my phone away from my face.
I checked my schedule for next weekend. I had several meetings on Friday and Monday that could be moved.
I pressed the phone back to my ear, staring at the house across from mine on the other side of the valley, trying to focus on anything but the reality of this situation.
But it wasn’t going away.
It was only intensifying.
“You really want me there?” I asked.
“Mmm.” She breathed. “Yes.”
I couldn’t resist that sound.
I couldn’t resist what I was going to do to her body.
I squeezed my eyes shut, bringing the beer up to my mouth and swallowing until it was gone.
This was fire.
I knew that.
And I knew, somehow, it was only going to fucking burn.
I set the empty bottle on the pool deck, and I bit into my lip, thinking of the things I was going to do to her mouth. “I’ll be there.”