Shit, what time is it?
I pushed myself up from the bed, out of the cocoon of blanket and pillows I had buried myself in, and immediately covered my eyes from the sunlight seeping in from the blinds.
Ouch.
My hangover was front and center. I’d had far too much tequila last night, those skinny margaritas going down like water. If I’d only woken a half hour earlier, I could appreciate the deliciously perfect naked man lying beside me, reveling in every moment we’d shared together last night. Details I could still recall from the soreness in my body. But as I searched for the clock, one on Dominick’s side, it glowed a number that told me I was going to be extremely late for my meeting.
I climbed out of bed, hopping around the room with the balance of a newborn puppy, and tried to find my dress and shoes and purse—everything I’d worn to the hotel party. Each item had fallen in a different place on the floor the minute he carried me in here. Collecting my things in my arms, I brought them all into the bathroom. I slipped on my dress and tied my hair back with an elastic from my clutch, ensuring yesterday’s makeup wasn’t running down my cheeks before I rushed back to the bedroom.
Dominick was still asleep on his stomach. His arms stretched above his head, dark hair and tanned skin covering them, hints of a morning shadow on the unhidden parts of his cheek.
And then there was his ass.
Two yummy, hard hills that caused a rise in the blanket.
My God.
That man was all muscle and masculinity and sex.
Before last night, I had been positive unicorns like him only existed because of Photoshop.
But proof was directly in front of me.
And because I was an idiot, I didn’t have his last name, phone number, or any set plans to see him again.
But after what had gone down in this room—the way he made my body feel, the connection that exploded between us—I needed all of his information.
I just didn’t have time to wake him up and have that conversation.
I found a small pad of paper and pen on the dining table. As I jotted down my name and number and an apology for having to leave so fast, my skin flushed as I remembered what he had done to me on this wood.
I left the note on top of his pants and bolted down the hallway and into the elevator, ordering a ride-share that met me in front of the lobby only a minute after I arrived. Even at this early hour, the traffic was brutal, the driver having to navigate a few alternate routes just to avoid some of the heavier congestion.
At the sight of my apartment, I threw the backseat door open and stripped off my dress the moment I got inside. I adjusted my hair into a higher knot and clipped the fallen pieces to the top of my head, and then I stepped beneath the warm spray of the shower. I covered my loofah with my beach-scented body wash and scrubbed Dominick from my skin.
One-night stand. That certainly wasn’t a term I was familiar with.
I knew the word boyfriend.
Relationship.
Commitment, sacrifice, compromise.
But what had happened last evening—the lack of a last name, the horny minx I had turned into, wildly passionate sex with a total stranger, someone who had learned my body better than any man I’d ever dated—was a language I’d never spoken before.
Now, every time I moved, each inch tugging at the soreness inside, was a reminder.
I could only hope Dominick would keep the message I’d left for him, and we could do all of that again—maybe with food and more conversation next time.
I got out of the shower, wrapping a towel over my wet body, and grabbed the first dress I found hanging in my closet. It happened to be a black maxi that I paired with a cute set of flats and chunky earrings. Returning to the bathroom, I untwisted my hair, the natural waves falling across my shoulders and back, tamed enough that I didn’t have to pull it into a pony. I quickly added some mascara, lip gloss, and more blush to my already-flushed cheeks, and I was ready to go.
I had left my purse and keys on my bed and clasped both in my hands before I took off for the parking garage. Once I was inside my car with the music blasting, I hadn’t driven more than two blocks and had to slow down for traffic. In Boston, where I’d spent my entire life up until six weeks ago, I hadn’t owned a car and relied on public transportation, a quick and efficient method that got me everywhere I needed to go.
Los Angeles wasn’t that kind of city.
Miles could take an eternity.
This morning was no different.
I was ten minutes late and still hadn’t picked up coffee—a requirement set by my sister when she was scheduled to be anywhere before noon. As her personal assistant, I knew better than to show up empty-handed, and I also knew there was no negotiation to her rules.
I parked a few blocks away from Starbucks, not wanting to waste any more time to look for a better spot, and I hauled ass inside. The line was at least twenty people deep, and it wrapped around the whole back of the shop.
She’s going to kill me.
The second I got in place, my phone began to vibrate from inside my purse. If I pulled it out, I imagined there would be multiple texts, missed calls, voice mails, all from my sister, asking where I was.
She was high-maintenance, demanding, and extremely argumentative, a snarky attitude that just wouldn’t let you win, so there was no reason to even try. Growing up with her had been an adventure, but having to work with her every day, in this proximity, was an entirely new level of intensity.
I still had no idea how she’d convinced me to leave my favorite city and the job that I loved so much to move here and be her bitch.
Eighteen months younger than her, I had come out of the womb, knowing how to tolerate her behavior. But apparently, I was the only one who could.
Because her last five assistants had quit.
After the final one had abandoned her, she’d begged me to come work for her.
I didn’t know what point had eventually sold me, but I was six weeks in.
“Ugggh,” the guy in front of me groaned. “This line is barely moving.” He checked his home screen again, looking at the time or his messages—something he’d done less than a minute ago.
“Right?” I agreed. “I need a magic wand and a miracle. I’m”—I glanced at my watch—“fifteen minutes late to an extremely important meeting.”
He turned toward me, his bangs dangling so low in his eyes that I wanted to sweep them behind his ear. “Is it with anyone worth bragging about?” His tie was black and sharp, his eyelids rimmed with a smoky liner that looked far better than the makeup I had on.
“What do you mean?”
He assessed me like he was a wholesale buyer and I was walking down a runway. “How long have you lived here?”
“Not even two months.”
“I can tell.” He held out his hand. “Charlie, but I prefer Charlize because I’m fabulous like that.”
I smiled, loving him already. “Kendall.”
DominickLos Angeles is fucking lit tonight. That was the only thought in my head as I stood twenty-seven stories up on the roof deck of the city’s newest and hottest high-rise hotel, overlooking our famous skyline. Jenner, my middle brother, was the attorney who had represented the closing, and everyone who was anyone had come out this evening to celebrate the grand opening.Not only was this a huge win for Jenner, but for The Dalton Group as well—the law firm my parents had started over twenty years ago, where my brothers and I were now partners. We represented some of the largest-earning corporations and individuals in the world. In my case, concentrating solely on entertainment law, I was surrounded by many of my clients, this event like a mini version of the goddamn Oscars.“Jenner has come a long way,” Brett Young, my best friend, said. He was next to me on the balcony, nodding toward my brother, who was schmoozing with the CEO of a massive online retailer. “I remember when we
I clasped Jenner’s arm the moment he was within range, pulling him in for a hug. “You’ve outdone yourself, my man. A hell of a hotel your team has built here, and this party is off the charts. Whoever put together the guest list deserves a fucking raise. Some of the women here tonight—mmm-mmm.”As I looked over his shoulder, there was sexiness everywhere. Outfits that revealed bare, toned backs, lean arms, legs for fucking centuries.And then there was the girl in the green dress, the queen of them all.Through the smallest opening, a crack between two men, her eyes met mine again.“Speaking of women …” Jenner said, pulling back to reach inside his sports coat. He placed something in my hand and then Ford’s, skipping right over Brett. “No reason to bring one home when I got you a room downstairs.”A key card was now tucked under my fingers, the room number written on its paper sleeve.I put it in my pocket, punching Jenner’s shoulder with just a little strength. “Always looking out fo
“I need more of you,” I hissed, tasting the desire on her tongue.The elevator chimed, signaling our arrival.Knowing she couldn’t move as fast as me, not in the heels she had on, I bent down and folded her over my shoulder, lifting her into the air and carrying her out the open doors.“Dominick,” she squealed, the sound of her surprise causing me to smile as I rushed us down the hallway toward the room. “You’re crazy.”She hadn’t experienced crazy.That wouldn’t happen until my cock was inside her.It took me no time to get us inside the room and flip on the lights, setting Kendall back on her feet.I surrounded her ass, squeezing her cheeks, imagining my dick between them. “Take off this dress before I shred it.”“If you thought I was wet before …” Her body quivered as she paused. “That was nothing compared to what I am now.”“Show me.”She reached behind her neck, loosening the strap that was tied there and then lowering the zipper on her hip, the emerald material soon cascading do
“Oh God, yes.” Her nails moved to my shoulders, stabbing even harder as I picked up speed. “Don’t stop.”She was handling the pounding I was giving her.But I needed more.I needed to watch her fuck me, to take control, to free up my hands so they could roam across her body.Sinking into her, I lifted her into the air and straddled her legs around my waist. My intention was to bring her to the bed, but I made a stop at the closest wall, pushing her back against it to pump into her pussy.She rocked against me with each drive. “Fuck!” she yelled. “Yes!”Her nails never left but moved spots, this time to the back of my shoulders. Mine dug into her ass, dipping until I found that forbidden hole, circling around it.“Ahhh,” she exhaled.“You want more?”Her moan was my answer.But my cock wasn’t going there. Anal wasn’t for one-night stands; there was far too much prep involved, and I didn’t have the patience for that now.Not when I needed her this badly.But that didn’t stop me from pla