Prologue
Ty
These fuckingthings are a total bore.
I down another glass of champagne as I glance at my Rolex. Almost midnight. My misery will soon be over.
Not only running but being the face of a multimillion-dollar company has its perks and its pains. I could think of a thousand other things I’d rather be doing on New Year’s Eve than spearheading potential business connections. But at least the fight was entertaining. I’d hoped this night would be less of a snooze-fest with Shane and Chase here, and maybe even win some brownie points with Jenn, but that plan backfired when they informed me about their alternate arrangements and surprise proposal.
I swallow another large sip of crisp champagne, draining the glass. At the very least, I can get drunk and not let the night be a total waste. And the band is good, so there's that.
I meander around the large ballroom littered with A-list actors and actresses, celebrity chefs, and business elites. Some I recognize, some I don’t. I’ve been entitled my entire life, so galas like these don't impress me like some others. It's just another function to wheel and deal. A quarter in, a dollar out.
I need another drink.
Turning to head for one of the bars, I spot a beguiling face illuminated under the purple uplights. She’s talking and laughing with two men and a woman. It looks like she doesn't have a care in the world. I envy her. It feels like I have weighted shackles locked around my wrists and ankles at all times. I watch her converse as I stand at the bar, studying her the same way I did at the fight. She has an air. A gravitational pull. I can't tear my gaze away from her athletic silhouette, or her enchanting smile, or her long, flowing, chestnut hair. She's not the blonde, waif-like type I’m usually attracted to, yet I can't divert my attention at all. She had me the moment she looked back at me at the fight. Like she recognized me but didn't. It was a strange initial connection, but memorable, nonetheless. Bonding almost, until she ran into the arms of another man. Who’s nowhere to be seen at the moment. I would never abandon a woman like her. Not for a moment. Not so a man like me could move in on my territory.
I sip my champagne slowly, the same pace at which I’d explore her body. With my tongue. Starting from the ticklish spot behind her ear, I’d work my way down her neck, over her bare chest and peak of her breast, stopping only momentarily to tease her nipples until they’re puckered and hard. Then I’d slide down the center of her abdomen until I reached the candied spot my sweet tooth has been aching for. Like indulging in dessert, I’d lick her until I'm content, which would take a very, very long while. Needy and wet, she’d beg me to fuck her with more than just my mouth. And I would, in every angle and in every position. Until neither of us could see or hear or think. I can almost feel that tight pussy coming all over me as I silently stand here and stare.
She suddenly looks my way, as if cosmically pulled in my direction, and when our eyes meet, her breath noticeably catches. Does she feel the connection as strongly as I do?
“Can I have another?” I hold up my glass of champagne to the bartender. The man in the black tuxedo and white gloves places a flute in front of me and pours the golden bubbly until it's frothing at the top. By the time I pick up the glass and start striding across the lavishly decorated room, she’s saying her goodbyes to the people she’d been talking to. It’s like a perfectly planned movie scene.
She stands alone for several short seconds, watching me approach with wide, entranced eyes.
“We meet again.” I hand her the champagne.
She takes it obligingly. “It must be fate.”
“Perhaps.” I clink the rim of my glass against hers, and we both take a sip. “Where is your husband?” I immediately fish for information.
She looks at me oddly, the brown of her irises picking up the hues of purple from the lights.
“I’m not married.”
“Boyfriend, then?”
“No boyfriend either.”
“Then whose arms did you run into earlier tonight?”
She smiles. “Jack. He’s an old friend.”
“And where is this old friend now?”
“Probably with his wife somewhere.”
I like that answer.
“Where are your friends?” she inquires.
“Getting engaged.” The odd look returns to her face.
“All three of them?” she asks with humor, but I hear the true question in her tone.
“Yes, all three. They’re an item,” I confirm.
“Oh.” Her pretty eyes widen as she takes another sip of champagne. “How modern.”
