I'm not the type of girl who picks up a man on a rooftop bar. Not the kind of girl who lets a man's hands roam my body, discovering I have no panties on. Never the girl who has hours' worth of o's from a smoking-hot one-night stand. But Dominick makes it so easy to say yes. His body, his moves, and his oh-so-wicked tongue have me saying it over and over again. Yes, please. Yes, more. Yes, right there. He worships every inch of my body, and I'm still sore the next morning when I meet him again.
DOMINICK
Los Angeles is fucking lit tonight
. That was the only thought in my head as I stood twenty-seven stories up on the roof deck of the city's newest and hottest high-rise hotel, overlooking our famous skyline. Jenner, my middle brother, was the attorney who had represented the closing, and everyone who was anyone had come out this evening to celebrate the grand opening.
Not only was this a huge win for Jenner, but for The Dalton Group as well-the law firm my parents had started over twenty years ago, where my brothers and I were now partners. We represented some of the largest-earning corporations and individuals in the world. In my case, concentrating solely on entertainment law, I was surrounded by many of my clients, this event like a mini version of the goddamn Oscars.
"Jenner has come a long way," Brett Young, my best friend, said. He was next to me on the balcony, nodding toward my brother, who was schmoozing with the CEO of a massive online retailer. "I remember when we were in law school, that motherfucker still had zits all over his forehead. Now, instead of carrying textbooks, he's got multimillion-dollar contracts in his hands, closing transactions like this one every day, from here to fucking Dubai."
Brett pointed at Ford, my youngest brother. "And the baby in the family? Man, I definitely didn't anticipate him being the first one in our group to father a child." He smirked. "Certainly not before me or you." His eyes caught mine. "I think you wake up every morning, hoping like hell that some woman doesn't come banging on your door, asking for a paternity test."
I laughed in agreement. "Isn't that the fucking truth?"
Before Brett had met James Ryne, one of the highest-paid actresses in Hollywood, he had lived the same lifestyle as me. Bachelor brothers was what we used to call ourselves. But now, they were engaged, and he was more whipped than a sub.
He clinked his glass against mine, and we downed what liquor was left. Immediately, a waitress appeared to hand us refills.
He held his scotch over the side of the railing, balancing the liquor in the air.
I did the same, sighing as I gazed at all the twinkling lights below. "It's been a hell of a run for us so far, and we're only getting started."
When Brett and his buddies had opened The Agency-a firm of agents representing actors, athletes, and musicians-I had just passed the bar, and we would refer clients to one another. Now, all these years later, we sat in many of the same meetings, negotiating deals for the top earners in the business.
"You've got that right, my friend. Wait until I tell you about this new actress I just scouted and how much money she's going to earn us ..." His voice faded as he grabbed his phone and read the screen. "Fuck."
"What's wrong?"
Still staring at his cell, he said, "You know our client Naomi, who I cast for that reality TV show that's filming in two weeks? Her manager just texted and said she's in the hospital with two herniated discs in her neck and another three in her back." He slowly glanced up at me. "Ski accident in Vail this morning."
"Jesus, is she all right?"
"She's going in for surgery tomorrow. She'll be bedridden for the next nine to twelve weeks, which means she'll miss all of filming."
"That shit is painful. I hope she pulls through." I took a drink. "I also know what that means for you-you have to find someone to replace her."
He typed a reply, calling over a waitress the moment he put his phone away. "Another round for both of us and two tequila shots." As she walked toward the bar, he said to me, "Getting drunk is the only solution to this."
"Tell me exactly what you're looking for. Maybe I can help."
"If you remember, the show is about well-off, young girls, living the LA life. Private jets, VIP club treatment, walk-in closets that have as many Birkins as my fiancée. The studio will provide all of that. I just need the right face."
I quickly glanced around the roof, taking an inventory of the different looks and talent up here. "What kind of face?"
He twirled the glass in his hand, the scotch swirling like a tornado. "Early twenties, gorgeous. She needs to have perfect tits and a body to fucking die for. Personality-wise, I need someone who can put the cast members in their place-not a villain, but someone with spark."
Not finding what I was looking for, I mentally ran through my roster of actresses who focused only on reality television. Daisy Roy was the most talented one I had. Even though she was a villain off camera, she was the girl next door on-screen. She was good-looking, but she didn't possess the heat he was after.
I shook my head. "I can't think of anyone."
"I was afraid of that."
The waitress returned, setting the four glasses on the balcony's wide brick edge.
We went straight for the tequila, downing the shots before we moved on to the scotch.
Brett held the fresh drink against his chest, tugging at the strands of his hair. "We start filming in two weeks. I need someone-yesterday."
I grabbed his shoulder, shaking it to loosen him up. "Don't stress, brother. When I get to the office tomorrow, I'll dig through my clients and see who I can find."
The words had barely left my mouth when I turned toward the thick crowd and linked eyes with the most beautiful girl. Goddamn it, she was more stunning than any woman I had ever seen. Long, dark hair with pouty, thick lips and a light-blue stare that was so intense that I could see the color from all the way over here.
But the connection didn't stop with her looks.
I could almost feel her in my hands, as though her body were lying beneath mine, slowly caressing her smooth, naked skin, warming the areas that my mouth was soon going to devour.
Fuck me.
"Do you know who that is?" I asked Brett.
"Who?"
I broke our connection to look at my best friend. "I can't point-she's watching-but the girl at three o'clock in a tight emerald-colored dress with endless fucking curves. There's a tall blonde next to her, who doesn't compete at all."
"I've never seen either of them before, but you're right; the brunette is hot as hell."
With my eyes on her again, I brought the glass up to my mouth, not feeling the burn as I swallowed.
Because there was only one fire in my body.
One that sparked an aching need to be inside her.
Most college-aged girls go to Europe to experience their sexual awakening. All I had to do was come home. Ford Dalton isn’t the kind of man I’d look at twice—because I can’t stop looking at him at all. We can’t take our hands off each other in the bar. Back at his house, it’s our lips. And in his bed? There isn’t a single part of us that’s not on fire. One night would never be long enough for Ford to show me every delicious thing he can do to my body.
The attraction was undeniable. Our chemistry was scorching hot. But he wasn’t my husband. My once treasured marriage was now flawed and imperfect. By the time the guilt set in, it was too late. Reality was trying to keep me from my obsession. My husband was that reality. My obsession was West, but he was forbidden. Taken. Married. We were swingers. It was the perfect arrangement. Until I fell in love … With West.
It’s been said that you can’t love two men at the same time. You can’t split your heart, soul, and body in half. But I’m here to tell you, you can. Dylan Cole is like ice, sharp and unpredictable, the thunder inside a tumultuous storm. Smith Reid is warmth, soft and gentle, perfect like a sunny day. Both are mine. But I can have only one. There are two sides to this tale. I'm here to tell you mine. If you think this story is about a cheater, you couldn’t be more wrong.
Madison had always believed that she would marry Colten. She spent her youth admiring him from afar, dreaming of their future life together. But Colten was always indifferent to her, and when he abandoned her at a time when she needed him most, she finally realized that he never loved her. With renewed resolve and a thirst for revenge, Madison left. Endless possibilities lay ahead, but Colten was no longer part of her plans. Colten rushed to her place in a panic. "Madison, please come back to me. I’ll give you everything!" It was his powerful uncle who answered the door. "She's my woman now."
Janice, the long-forgotten legitimate heiress, made her way back to her family, pouring her heart into winning their hearts. Yet, she had to relinquish her very identity, her academic credentials, and her creative works to her foster sister. In return for her sacrifices, she found no warmth, only deeper neglect. Resolute, Janice vowed to cut off all emotional bonds. Transformed, she now stood as a master of martial arts, adept in eight languages, an esteemed medical expert, and a celebrated designer. With newfound resolve, she declared, "From this day forward, no one in this family shall cross me."
The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."
There was only one man in Raegan's heart, and it was Mitchel. In the second year of her marriage to him, she got pregnant. Raegan's joy knew no bounds. But before she could break the news to her husband, he served her divorce papers because he wanted to marry his first love. After an accident, Raegan lay in the pool of her own blood and called out to Mitchel for help. Unfortunately, he left with his first love in his arms. Raegan escaped death by the whiskers. Afterward, she decided to get her life back on track. Her name was everywhere years later. Mitchel became very uncomfortable. For some reason, he began to miss her. His heart ached when he saw her all smiles with another man. He crashed her wedding and fell to his knees while she was at the altar. With bloodshot eyes, he queried, "I thought you said your love for me is unbreakable? How come you are getting married to someone else? Come back to me!"
On the day of their wedding anniversary, Joshua's mistress drugged Alicia, and she ended up in a stranger's bed. In one night, Alicia lost her innocence, while Joshua's mistress carried his child in her womb. Heartbroken and humiliated, Alicia demanded a divorce, but Joshua saw it as yet another tantrum. When they finally parted ways, she went on to become a renowned artist, sought out and admired by everyone. Consumed by regret, Joshua darkened her doorstep in hopes of reconciliation, only to find her in the arms of a powerful tycoon. "Say hello to your sister-in-law."
Rumors said that Lucas married an unattractive woman with no background. In the three years they were together, he remained cold and distant to Belinda, who endured in silence. Her love for him forced her to sacrifice her self-worth and her dreams. When Lucas' true love reappeared, Belinda realized that their marriage was a sham from the start, a ploy to save another woman's life. She signed the divorce papers and left. Three years later, Belinda returned as a surgical prodigy and a maestro of the piano. Lost in regret, Lucas chased her in the rain and held her tightly. "You are mine, Belinda."