“Really?” I raise my eyebrows and reach for my drink. “How long are you here for?”
“We go back home tomorrow night. After the tennis final,” she adds. Her eyes sparkle, and l laugh. She’s almost bursting with excitement, and I know meeting me has made her night.
“How would you feel,” I begin, my eyes penetrating hers, “about taking this party back to my room?”
She practically faints at the sound of my words. I can see Josh shaking his head out of the corner of my eye. “I would love that.” Her lips form a small pout. “But I promised my friends I wouldn’t leave them. Do you mind if they come too?”
I follow her gaze to her friends. They’ve moved away from us, and are now dirty dancing near the bar.
“If they want to come, then I’m more than happy to accommodate them,” I say with a grin.
“Give me a minute.” She giggles again.
The sound of her laugh is beginning to grate on me, but she’s stunning—and so are her friends—so I force myself to focus. And maybe not say anything that will make her laugh. I sit forward and watch her run over to her friends, shaking my head. Had a fivesome literally just fallen in my lap? Was a fivesome even a thing? Or was anything over three simply an orgy?
“How do you do that?” mutters Josh. He shakes his head in amazement.
I smile, not letting on that I’d forgotten he was even there.
“How the hell do you do that?”
“Man, I have no idea. I’m just being myself.” I shrug.
And that is the truth. I have a friendly personality that attracts women—it’s as simple as that. If there is one thing I hate, it’s guys that treat women like shit. That whole asshole routine isn’t my thing. To be honest, I can’t be bothered dealing with women who lack the self-confidence to respect themselves.
“You know they just want you because you’re Ryder Stevens, right? Not that it’s a bad way to be used,” he adds.
“Why do you even care? Or have you forgotten about Charlotte?” I ask.
“I don’t care like that. It just shouldn’t be that damn easy for you,” he grumbles. “Everything is easy for you.”
I laugh and throw a few bills down on the table. “See you later. Buy yourself a drink or two. You’ll be in my box tomorrow, right?”
He nods and I grin.
“Good. Because it’s probably the closest you’ll ever get to the French Open final.”
Chapter Three
“Wow, I love your room.”
I look at the blonde. Her American accent catches me by surprise. She’s wearing a short blue dress that is struggling to contain her cleavage, and the four-inch heels she’s wearing further lengthen her long, tanned legs. There is no denying how sexy she is, but next to the more natural beauty of Salli, she pales in comparison.
“I can’t take credit for what is one of the most luxurious hotels in France,” I murmur. I stand back and watch them walk over to take in the stunning view of the Eiffel Tower showcased by the living room window.
Four stunning women standing in my hotel room, all waiting to be fucked. I smile, because I know this is going to be a big night. My cock twitches as Salli snakes her arm around the curve of the blonde’s back, her hand falling to her ass. She looks over her shoulder and smirks at me as her fingers find their way under Blondie’s dress.
Fuck me.
I step forward, unable to wipe the smirk off my face. This was going to be fucking awesome.
Sex is something I have often. Very often. In fact, after a drunken night with Josh I’d worked out that in the past twelve months I’d slept with nearly two hundred and fifty women.
“How the fuck is that even possible?” Josh had gasped.
“Easy. You’d be surprised at the number of women who want no-strings sex. Throw in regular threesomes, foursomes, and even a sixsome . . .” I winked.
“Five women? At once? Man, I can barely handle one,” he’d grumbled.