The Billionaire (The Dalton Brothers 2)

Eight

Joanna

When I’d gotten off the plane in Vegas, my friends and I in a ride-share on the way to the hotel, I didn’t expect this week to be anything more than just fun—partying, hangovers, tanning by the pool.

But it had turned into so much more.

And now that we were on our last day here, flying out tomorrow morning, I was devastated that this trip was coming to an end.

Mostly for one reason.

A reason I didn’t want to admit.

Jenner.

Monica had seen this coming, like it was a celebrity alert broadcasted across the world. She wanted this for me—she wanted us to work.

But there were so many factors that went into play. Long-distance was only one. Relationships were hard enough. Living on opposite sides of the country, constantly missing each other, felt impossible.

Besides, Jenner hadn’t even hinted that he wanted anything to happen beyond this trip. We had exchanged phone numbers, and that was the extent of our commitment, but we were still hanging out almost nonstop. I’d spent every night in his bed, and now, both of our crews were at the pool together, celebrating our final day.

The guys had rented a cabana, and waitresses kept it filled with appetizers and liquor and mixtures. Even though we were all partying as a group, Jenner’s attention was never far from me.

Neither were his hands.

As we stood in the shallow end, they were circling my lower back, tracing the bottom of my bikini.

“What time is your flight tomorrow?” I asked him—a question I’d avoided until now because it felt so final.

But I needed to prepare myself.

“The plane should be here around one.”

I wasn’t surprised he was flying private. I would have been surprised if he wasn’t.

“If you were on the way,” he said, “we’d give you and your friends a lift home.”

I loved how he treated private flying like it was an Uber.

“What time do you take off?”

I pressed my back against his chest, holding in my breath, feeling the coarseness of his dark hairs and the hardness of his pecs. “Our flight is at nine.” I sighed. “I’m not a fan of anything early, but the girls wanted to be back at a decent time to get in some last-minute homework.”

I almost cringed when I said that—another reminder of how young I was compared to him.

I stared at the girls, who were trying to keep up with his guys, guzzling vodka under this wicked heat. “I think it’s going to be a rough morning.” I laughed.

“I don’t think you’re wrong.”

He turned me around, placing my back against the side of the pool, surrounding me in his arms. His cold, wet lips found mine. I could taste the liquor on his tongue, the neediness in his grip. The fire that was building between our bodies.

“Mmm,” I moaned the second he pulled his mouth away.

It didn’t matter how many times I had this man inside me—even if it was three times a day, like we’d been averaging; it wouldn’t be enough. I’d gone to bed last night after cowgirl. I’d woken up to doggy style this morning.

Yet now, just a few hours later, I was fantasizing about what position he would put me in this afternoon.

He held my chin as he asked, “Do you girls have plans for dinner?”

Monica had tossed around a few ideas but hadn’t made a reservation.

“Nope,” I replied.

He pulled my lip into his mouth, biting the end before he released it. “We’re going for sushi, and we have a private room. I can easily add four more to the table.” His hands dipped to my ass, circling my cheeks. “And we also have tickets to see The Weeknd tonight. If you want to come”—he nuzzled his face in my neck—“I can score those for you too.”

“You’re kidding.”

A man with endless connections.

I found that so incredibly sexy.

“This isn’t the only hotel I’ve opened on the Strip.” He pulled his face back, his lips now close to mine. “My job earns me perks all over the world.”

“You’re a lucky guy.”

He sighed. “I work hard for it. Trust me.”

“I don’t doubt it one bit.” I smiled. “Fair warning: Monica is going to die when she hears this. She’s obsessed with The Weeknd.” I turned around, facing her back, watching her in deep conversation with Max. “Hey, Mon,” I said, waiting for her to give me her attention. “Want to go for sushi tonight with the guys?”

She nodded. “Sounds yummy to me.”

“And how about going to The Weeknd concert after?”

Her eyes widened. “Shut up. You’re not serious. I tried to get us tickets, and they were just so ridiculously priced. I couldn’t swing it.”

I’d wanted so badly to buy them as her graduation gift, but Monica wouldn’t even let me think about it.

Now that she was getting to go anyway, I couldn’t be more excited.

“I have club-level seats,” Jenner said to her. “With backstage passes.” He nodded toward Max and added, “Max represents him.”

She shook her head. “I can’t even.” Waves lapped onto my chest as she hurried over to us. “I might propose to you right now,” she said to Jenner, giggling. “Is this real? Or am I dreaming? Because I don’t think I’ve emphasized enough that The Weeknd is my favorite artist of all time.”

“It’s happening,” I told her. “You just have to say yes.”

“Yesss!” she screamed over the music in the pool, and people nearby looked in our direction. “Hell yes!”

“What’s going on?” Lex asked, moving closer, Courtney joining her.

“We’re all going to The Weeknd concert tonight,” I replied.

“Whaaa?” Courtney said. “We are?”

“Oh, we are, girlfriend. We are,” Monica told her.