Rich Player (The Dirty Thirty Pledge 3)

All I want to do is go back to sleep, but I’m covered in sex, and I have to get back to Eastborough. I’m not exactly thrilled about my sister’s baby shower. I shake my head because I don’t want to think about it. It’s the last place that I want to be, but if I’m going to get any help or respect from my family in the future, I have to be there. No matter how painful it is.

I drag myself off the bed and find an empty bathroom in the full guest suite that’s branching off of this one. Holy shit. Glenn must be loaded. It didn’t really sink in until he reminded me about the whiskey. Because that bottle is like…three grand.

I don’t want to think that I’m here taking advantage of his money. Honestly, I would have left with him even if he had just bought me a beer and not an absurdly expensive bottle of whisky.

My mind flashes back to that last orgasm, and I smile as I turn the water on. God, I would have loved to spend the day in the shower with him. Just thinking about watching Glenn lather up and stroke his cock has my mouth watering and it’s not even real. Dammit.

I wash my hair and body, noticing I’m sore. It’s been long enough since I’ve had sex, even longer since I’ve had sex like that.

Fuck it, I’ve never had sex like that.

When I step out of the shower, I wrap myself in a fluffy robe, because who doesn’t love a fluffy robe? There are voices in the main suite, and I can tell through the muffled words that our food is here. I go on a hunt to find all my clothes that Glenn stripped off of me last night.

Even though I’m not embarrassed, I blush pink, my body warming to the memory. I peek out of the door, and the big table that’s out in the dining room area is now piled high with food. I ordered pancakes and eggs, and Glenn ordered an omelette of some kind. But there’s not just that.

There’s fresh fruit and a selection of juices. Milk, syrup, tea, coffee, and the plates of food that we ordered. “Wow.”

Glenn is sitting at the table already, sipping a cup of coffee and looking at his phone. He has fresh clothes on and is barefoot, hair still damp from the shower and delightfully tousled. In the light of day and new clarity of mind that’s not impaired with alcohol and sex, it’s even easier to see how fucking hot he is. Sandy blond hair and rich brown eyes, not to mention his body. All I can see right now are his forearms. I’ve never been able to figure out why those are so attractive, but they are.

He looks up at me and smiles, mouth tipped up on one side. “Yeah, they do a good job with breakfast.”

“This is way too much food.”

“Speak for yourself,” he winks.

I pour syrup on my pancakes. They’re so good that I moan. Not only is all this food seriously over the top, but it’s delicious. Glenn devours his omelette in what seems like just a few bites.

Now that we’re not in bed, I’m not exactly sure what to say to him. Do I ask for his number? How would that even work? He clearly doesn’t live in Nashville. He could be from anywhere.

I keep glancing at him and I can feel him looking at me whenever I’m looking away. It’s like a middle-school dance. A little awkward, but not the worst.

“How long are you in town?” I finally ask, taking one last bite of the pancakes.

He clears his throat, and his eyes fix on me. “I leave today.”

“Well, then this was lucky.”

“I would say so.”

I just sit for a second, not sure what to do. “I should probably go,” I say, even though I don’t want to. “I need to get on the road.”

“Do you need a cab?”

“I can catch one outside.”

He waves a hand, and goes to one of the hotel’s phones. “The hotel will take you.”

While he’s arranging it, I excuse myself and put my clothes back on. This whole thing seems like a dream. This doesn’t happen to real people, right? You don’t go out to clubs and get rescued by ridiculously sexy men who happen to be super rich and amazing in bed. I’m going to wake up at home, and none of this will have happened. I’m certain of it.

I step out of the bedroom, and he’s waiting for me, so close. “There’s a car downstairs that’ll take you wherever you need to go.”

“Thanks,” I say, unable to avoid blushing.

He walks me to the door with a hand on my lower back. But it doesn’t feel like he’s ushering me out. Instead, it’s a connecting touch, anchoring me. And when we reach the door, he pulls me in for one last kiss. “It was very nice to meet you, Diamond,” he says.