Well, fourteen now.
Happy Birthday, Miss Reid. Welcome to your twenties. My dick thickens at the memory of how she pouted about her birthday dinner. I’d love to spank the brat right out of her. Another reason she’s off-limits, because it wouldn’t end with spanking. I’d punish her until her ass is rosy-red and she’s panting all the good-girl apologies she learned at boarding school, begging me to stop.
I wouldn’t stop.
I’d haul her onto her knees and sink into her, taunting her with how wet she is for me. I’d lean over her, pressing my hips into her sore bottom—make her remember who is in charge—and whisper the Mayfair Rules of Order in her ear as my cock strokes her to her first orgasm.
No Drama, No Sharing, No Exceptions.
I’ve learned the hard way that sex and love are f*ck
ing complicated. I play within the rules now for a reason. It’s smarter. It’s safer. And while I’m not normally a jealous man, when I think of Alison with someone else, my chest tightens. So yeah, if we were to hook up, I’d need us to be exclusive.
But still no strings.
Never said I wasn’t an ass*ole
.
Once you’ve been tied down, though, you get wary.
Which isn’t Alison’s problem. None of my f*ck
ed-up issues are her problem, which is why I keep as much distance as possible.
Right now, that’s about eighteen inches between my cock and her ass, because she’s stopped suddenly. I skid to a halt right behind her.
Too damn close for comfort. Her hair smells like jasmine and vanilla, and when she twists to the side, pulling her phone out of her purse, her skin looks dewy soft.
Too. Damn. Close.
She glances at the screen, then rolls her eyes and starts walking again, totally unaware of the fact that I’m gagging for another scent of her golden-brown waves. “Hailey’s phone is fixed,” she throws over her shoulder at me. “They’re heading back to the hotel.”
We’re staying at The Grand, in a suite. I have a sinking feeling Cole’s already arranged for another suite for him and Hailey.
The last thing Alison and I need is to be alone in a hotel suite together.
f*ck
me.
I’m not an idiot. I see how she looks at me.
It can’t happen.
That image of her, naked and on all fours for me, flashes through my head again.
And I’m back to swinging the shopping bags in front of my body. I don’t know why my dick ever bothers going down. Might as well just stay hard all the time—it’s an inevitable state around her.
She ducks her head as we approach the hotel. I don’t see any paparazzi around, and they haven’t bothered the girls yet this trip, but it’s a reflex she’s honed over the last two years.
Her family has done a f*ck
ing number on her head, that’s for sure. I almost feel sorry for her, before I remember that she’s one of the richest twenty-year-olds in the country and if she wanted to stay out of the limelight, she could.
There’s something about Alison that’s attracted to the fire. She’s the youngest of four, and on paper, most definitely a good girl.
Straight-A student. Not a party girl.
Not a wild child hippie like her sister, who’s a rebel in her own way. I grin to myself as we cross the lobby. I like Hailey a lot. She pisses me off when she ditches me, but she doesn’t do that much anymore. We’ve come to an understanding.
Her baby sister, on the other hand?
No, there’s no hope for Alison and me to ever come to an understanding. Not unless she is naked and turned over my knee.
As if she can sense my spanking fantasy, she turns and looks at me. “What?” she asks, her sculpted brown eyebrows tugging close to each other.
“Nothing.” I wait to smirk until she’s moved past me onto the elevator. Too late, I catch her watching my reflection in the mirror.
She stares at me in the glass for a minute, then smiles, and the feline power there makes my balls pull tight. “Right. Nothing.”
— —
Four hours later, I’m sitting at the bar in a trendy New York restaurant, watching Alison taste the first pour of a bottle of wine. She rolls it around in her mouth, then gives the sommelier a smile so full of grace it f*ck
ing hurts, and he gives a slight bow before filling the rest of her glass and that of her sister.
Not only is she drinking underage, but it’s probably a two-hundred dollar bottle of wine and everyone here will bow and scrape to pour it for her.
She’s the epitome of a spoiled little rich girl who gets everything she wants. Well, most of the time. I denied her my forced attendance at her birthday dinner. It was an ass*ole
move, but necessary for self-preservation. Cole had begged off of dinner, which gave me an excuse to sit across the restaurant instead of right next to her. “Enjoy your dinner with your sister,” I’d said, and Hailey had given me a knowing look as she’d pushed Alison toward their table.
We aren’t f*ck