Five
Jenner
“Where’s dinner?” I asked Jo as she slipped the dress over her body.
One I’d stripped off.
One that had been on the floor of my suite for the last hour.
“Some steak house on the Strip,” she answered. “My best friend, Monica, picked it. She handles that kind of stuff. I just do the eating.”
The dress was as tight as skin, showing every curve, and she had those for days, starting with her hips, lowering to her ass, bulging at the corners of her cleavage. And in this outfit, her tits looked even larger since the dress was so low-cut.
“Fuck,” I moaned, leaning into a table as I watched her adjust the fitting. “You’d better run.”
She grinned, and it was so beautiful. “What happens if I don’t?”
“That dress is going to be shredded from your body.”
She laughed as she slipped into her sky-high heels. “No shredding. This is one of my favorites. It would hurt my heart if there were only pieces left.”
I couldn’t stop devouring her with my eyes. “I’d buy you another one.”
It would be worth it.
Because the last hour hadn’t satisfied the need I had for this girl.
It didn’t matter how much I’d tasted, that my mouth had been on every inch of her.
I wanted more.
What the fuck is happening to me?
One taste had always been enough.
But now, I found myself walking toward her, hugging her against me the second she was within reach, my dick already hard again.
Her hands surrounded my face as she looked up at me. “You can have me later.” Her thumbs brushed over my beard as she took in my eyes. “But not now. I have to meet the girls.”
I squeezed her ass. “I don’t like that answer, but I’ll accept it.”
She leaned up on her toes, giving me that gorgeous pout and the chance to breathe her in. Jo’s flavor was different. The fall scent followed her deep into the night. But it was more than just that. She had an appetite that was similar to mine, a desire, a charisma I just couldn’t get enough of.
“I’ll text you,” she whispered against my lips. She pulled away and adjusted her dress, glancing down her body. “I look like I’ve been through war.”
“If you didn’t, then I didn’t fuck you hard enough.”
Her head fell back as she laughed—something she’d done before and something that drove me fucking wild. “You definitely fucked me hard enough. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to walk tomorrow.” She headed for the door and waved before opening it.
“I’ll see you later, Jo.”
As she left, I took in the view of her ass. Even though I’d just been holding it, even though I’d kissed across her cheeks when she was spread over my bed, I still couldn’t stop staring.
That body.
That freshly fucked pussy.
That satiated smile she gave me as the door closed.
Goddamnit.
Who the fuck 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 fucking 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. “Fuck, 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 pussy,” 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 fucking 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 shit-faced and have a hell of a meal.”
His grip tightened. “That makes two of us.”