The Billionare

9

That satiated smile she gave me as the door closed.

Goddamn it.

Who the f**k is this girl?

I turned and headed into the bedroom, putting on the outfit I’d laid out for the evening—a pair of jeans and a button-down, a sports coat on top. I made a quick stop to the bathroom to brush my teeth and spray on some cologne. As my hands were under the faucet, water pouring onto my fingers, I decided not to clean my face. Doing so would wash away Jo’s scent, something I could still smell on my beard.

I wanted to taste her for a little bit longer even if that meant wearing her to dinner and the club.

She was just too good to get rid of.

Goddamn it, I’ve lost my f*****g mind.

I went back into the bedroom, ensuring I had my wallet and phone and room key, and I headed down the hall to Dominick’s suite.

“About time, motherfucker,” Dominick said as he opened his door. “I was wondering if you were going to show up.”

I pounded his fist and replied, “I’ve been busy.”

“I hope that means you’ve been with Jo?”

When I’d returned to the sportsbook several hours ago, I’d shared a few small details with the guys. They hadn’t given me a choice—the questions had started the moment I sat my ass down.

“You know it,” I told him.

He gripped my shoulder. “f**k, man. Getting it in on your second day in Vegas. Now, you’re making me proud.”

Brett handed me a scotch when I walked into the living room. “To p***y,” he said and clinked his glass against mine.

I took a drink and looked at Ford, who was reclined in one of the chairs. “Feeling any better?”

He nodded. “The nap helped, but I’m not hitting the booze until dinner.” He held up a bottle of water. “Meet my new friend.”

I laughed. “At least you’re not in bed, ordering room service, which is what I was expecting from you.”

“And never live it down?” He shook his head. “No, thank you. The fall might be ugly, but it’s the rallying that counts.”

“Ain’t that the goddamn truth?” Max said. He took a seat next to Ford. “One thing we know how to do—and do well—is give an endless amount of shit.”

Max was right about that.

Too drunk to go to dinner and clubbing was an instant invitation to getting called out whenever the opportunity arose. With these guys, our best friends, the teasing would be f*****g relentless.

“You good?” Brett asked, his arm going across my shoulders as I walked toward the balcony, where Jack and Dominick were talking.

Since Dominick had started doing business with The Agency—a company of entertainment agents, including Brett, Max, Jack, and Scarlett, their other partner who sat out for guys’ trips because she said it was too much testosterone—they had become fixtures in our lives.

“Real good,” I told him. “But I’m ready to get s**t-faced and have a hell of a meal.”

His grip tightened. “That makes two of us.”

Dominick’s room was like mine with a balcony running across the back that gave him a full view of the Bellagio fountains and the unique, lit-up high-rise hotels on the Strip. Just as Brett and I stepped outside, the sky was turning dark, giving this city an entirely different feel. Aside from the fun we had here, the scenery was my favorite part about Vegas. The mountains framed the perimeter, the belly an explosion of lights and energy and color.

Normally, I would take in this view and think of all the work that was waiting for me on my laptop.

But work wasn’t what ate my mind tonight.

It was Jo.

“Two times in one day,” Brett said, our hands resting over the wooden banister that edged the top of the glass wall outside. “That’s more than a one-night stand, my friend.”

Another reminder.

I could still see her body, still feel the softness of her skin, still hear her screams as she shuddered over my c**k.

Women didn’t take up real estate in my brain.

They left as quickly as they came. I didn’t have time for them to stick around. My life moved far too fast for that—traveling, work, traveling for work, a vicious cycle that repeated weekly. Since graduating from law school, I didn’t ask for phone numbers. I didn’t memorize addresses. Women were like a bold, heavy cabernet while eating a five-hundred-dollar Kobe steak. They enhanced the experience, but they weren’t the star of the show.

The star was work.

It always had been; it always would be.

Except this little beauty with long black hair and glittering blue eyes was etched in a space I couldn’t erase.

And I didn’t know what the f**k to do about it.

I turned toward Brett. “She might become a multi-night stand while I’m in Vegas, but this is where it’ll end.”

“You sure about that?” Brett asked.

As I was about to answer, Jack walked back inside, and Dominick came over and said, “If you’re talking about Jo, he’s already f*****g p***y-whipped.”

I looked at my brother. “Do you have something you want to say to me?”

Dominick smiled. “Do you really want to hear it?”

I laughed.

I knew where this was going.

Since Dominick was dating Kendall now and Brett was engaged to James Ryne—the most popular actress in Hollywood—they thought they knew it all. They had every goddamn answer. Like they were f*****g psychologists in any situation that involved women.

I couldn’t wait to hear this.

“Sure, bring it,” I told him.

“You like her, and you don’t know what the f**k to do about it.”

Now, I really laughed. In fact, I laughed so hard that my head fell back.

The action instantly brought back a memory from earlier in my room.

Fuck.

“Listen, you two, I know you both think you’re the latest and greatest Dr. Phil, but you have no idea what the hell you’re talking about. She lives in Miami, and she’s in college. I have no business even entertaining a thought like that, never mind pursuing her.”

“So, she’s a bit of a cub,” Dominick said. “That’s a moot point. She’s legal—that’s all that matters.”

“And you know half my relationship has been long-distance while James is on location, filming.” Brett nodded toward Max. “He and Eve haven’t always lived in the same city either.” He then pointed at Jack. “And you know he and Samantha have had their time apart.”