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  “Like it?” Tyson shouts over the fantastic din.

  “I love it,” I scream.

  Tyson spots a small table in the corner where we can hole up and pulls me along. A waitress arrives almost immediately.

  “Jameson?” he mouths to me.

  I nod.

  He shows her two fingers and she takes his credit card and puts a pink marker on the table to indicate that we are her customers before sashaying away. My head and body move in time to the quick and catchy beat of the music. I look at the dancers twisting on the dancefloor and their energy is astonishing. Some of them are really good. The men pick up women, swing them over their heads and catch them again. Tutti Frutti comes on.

  “Wanna dance?” Tyson shouts.

  “I can’t do these sixties moves,” I protest, horrified.

  “I’ll show you,” he says and stands. Before I can protest he hauls me up, and with his strong hands around my waist propels me towards the dancefloor.

  “I can’t dance, Tyson,” I say, leaning away from him. The last thing I want to do is make a fool of myself when everybody else is so damn good.

  He doesn’t take no for an answer. He curls his large muscular hand around my waist, and teaches me right there on the dancefloor. His large hands placed somewhere on my body, make it easy for me to follow his lead. He tells me I’m a natural. To my delight, soon I am doing the mash potato, the swim, the twist, and the pony.

  “Want to try a lindy hop?” he asks

  I laugh, breathless, and happier than I’ve ever been. “What is that?”

  He points to a couple who are doing a fast swing. I watch the woman slide between his legs and get swung up over his head, before she rolls across his shoulder and lands on her feet like a cat.

  I shake my head vigorously. “Oh no, no, noooo, Tyson,“ I scream, as he swings my hand and twirls me around so my back is facing his front. He fits his hands around my waist, hoists me high into the air, and flings me backwards. Earlier, I saw another couple do the same move so I do what the girl thrown into the air did. I bring my knees up so that I somersault in the air and land on my feet. Even before my feet can touch the ground Tyson has turned around and caught both my hands to steady me. I look into his eyes and laugh. I was petrified while I was flying in the air, but suddenly I feel free and filled with energy. I had executed the move successfully and I was never in any danger. Anybody who looked could have seen me flash my underwear, but I don’t care. I throw myself into Tyson’s arms. He twirls me around and we carry on dancing.

  We make a beautiful team.

  By the time we return to our table, we are both flushed and hot. Tyson’s hair is disheveled and his eyes glitter with something unnameable. He knocks back his Jameson and I follow suit. The alcohol burning all the way down to my stomach. I wipe my mouth. “That was great. How come you’re so good with this kind of dancing?”

  “It was a pilot program at the boys’ correction facility I was in. They wanted to know if teaching little shits dancing would make them less pig-headed.”

  “Did it?”

  He chuckles. “Nope.”

  I laugh. “Why were you in such a place?”

  “I stole a Mitsubishi 4 by 4, took it for a joyride, and caused hundreds of thousands worth of damage when I mowed it into a Lamborghini official dealership.”

  I clap my hand to my mouth. “Ouch, that was unlucky.”

  “It wasn’t unlucky. I crashed it there deliberately. I was an angry kid. I wanted to destroy precious things. Things I could never hope to have.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yup, I hated the world.”

  “How old were you then?”

  He orders two more glasses of Jameson, by lifting his hand and showing the peace sign to the waitress. “Thirteen.”

  “You were just a child.”

  He shrugs. “I have a very thick skull.”

  “Were you in that school for long?”

  “I ran away to Ireland when I was fourteen. I would have ended up a criminal, but I stayed a night on someone’s farm and he had horses. The moment I touched a horse I knew what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Until then the world did not make sense.”

  “Where do you raise your horses?” I ask.

  “In Suffolk.”

  “Ah, I thought your farms were based out of Ireland.” He still has a brogue and all.

  He shakes his head. “Nah, I left Ireland when I was 20.”

  “So now you breed horses and sell them to men like Brad?”

  He rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  The waitress places two glasses on the table. “You say you’re not a friend of Brad’s?”

  “No. I never heard of him before tonight.”

  He holds his glass in a mock salute. “Well, since you don’t know him, I’ll tell you: I wish Maggie went to just about anybody but him. He cares nothing about her. All he wants is the glory she’ll bring him.”

  He looks sad and my heart goes out to him. I never expected him to be such a deep thinker. Kylie had given us the impression he would be loud and brash; desperate for cheap publicity. My hand closes over his before I can think about it. “I’m sorry you have misgivings.”

  He glances down and smiles just a little, then turns his hand a bit so it locks with mine. “Thanks for listening. It’s been weighing on me ever since the sale went through.”

  “Why sell her to him at all?”

  “I made a mistake. I doubled her price because it never crossed my mind that anybody would pay that much,” he says, sounding glum. “I wanted to tell him to take a leap, but I couldn’t go back on my word.”

  “The money doesn’t matter to you, then?” I ask, a little hopeful.

  He grins wryly. “I wouldn’t go that far. Money’s a wonderful thing to have—the more, the better, but there are things that matter more.”

  “Noble of you,” I say with a smirk.

  He raises an eyebrow. “What’s that mean?”

  “It means it’s very easy for a person with all the money in the world to be choosy. Some of us have to do what we have to do. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s wonderful that you care about your horse, I really do. You’re not half as shallow as the gossip mags make you out to be.”

  “Thanks, I think.”

  “It was meant as a compliment.” I finish off my drink, then tell myself I absolutely should not have another one if I want to keep control of myself. “As I was saying, though, it’s nice that you even have a choice whether you should or shouldn’t take the money.”

  “Is that why you work at a job you don’t like?”

  “I guess I had that coming to me.”

  “I guess you did. You did just call me shallow.”

  “Not fair. I said you’re not as shallow as the general perception seems to be.”

  “Oh, right. I got mixed up.” He grins.

  “To answer your question, yes. It’s why I work at a job I don’t like. Most people do, don’t they? They have to work to make money to support themselves, and it doesn’t matter a damn whether or not they like what they do.”

  He shakes his head, and he’s not grinning anymore. “Then the job you are doing is not good enough for you, Izzy. You are so young. The whole world is at your feet.”

  “Oh, well. Let’s not spoil tonight talking about that. Tell me more about you,” I say, sweeping my hair over one shoulder as I silently scream at myself to stop pouring out my stupid heart to him. It’s supposed to be a fun night and look at me. He’s going to think I’m a complete idiot—a corporate drone, selling her soul in exchange for the monthly rent, babbling on about unimportant nonsense.

  “You’re the only woman in that entire penthouse I wanted to meet.” Those impossibly blue eyes of his make a slow tour of my face. I should want to turn my head away or hold my hands in front of me or something, anything to get him to stop looking. But I don’t want him to. I like that he seems
to enjoy what he sees.

  “I am?” I ask with a breathless giggle.

  “Yes. You know that, so don’t play coy.” He moves closer to me, leaning in as though he wants to speak into my ear. His breath is hot on my neck, the side of my face. So why do goosebumps cover my skin? “The moment I laid eyes on you, I had to know you. I couldn’t help myself.”

  There’s no way he’s saying these things. I have to be imagining it. He’s the infamous Tyson Eden. He could have any woman he wants. I feel the curious looks from other girls around. I have been feeling them all night, ever since he came to sit with me.

  But he wants me. Me!

  I down the amber liquid in my glass and feel it hit my empty stomach. The alcohol is like fire in my veins, making me brazen. “I don’t particularly want to spend all night here,” I whisper, getting as close as I dare to his ear. The scent of his cologne is enough to force a groan from deep in the back of my throat. I’ve never had such a primal reaction to a man in my life.

  He leans back just enough to look in my eyes, and when he does I’m finished. I’m his.

  “Really,” he drawls, one eyebrow shooting up. God, he has such a sexy smile.

  “Really.” I rest my hand on his shoulder. A very firm, very broad shoulder. I can feel his muscles flexing under the perfectly tailored suit jacket and realize with a thrill that shoots straight between my legs that he’ll be stripping that jacket off soon enough.

  I can’t wait.

  Chapter Six

  Izzy

  “It was like one solid wall of humanity in there!” I say, laughing and shaking out the wrinkles in my dress when we manage to fight our way outside. The air has cooled somewhat and the night seems mysterious and full of wonder. I look up into his eyes and stop laughing, caught by the hunger blazing in them. He really wants me. One day, I will tell my grandchildren; the most unexpected, most unimaginable, most awesome thing happened to me when I went to Paris to be my best friend’s bridesmaid.

  He slides one hand along the back of my head and pulls me towards him. I feel his fingers running through my hair and the pressure of his palm. The warmth of him envelopes me as I get closer. I feel his breath on my face, and I hear the thudding of my blood in my ears as he dips his head towards me. Our mouths meet, the mellow taste of whiskey on his tongue mingles with mine, and it’s pure magic.

  My knees turn to jelly and I feel as if I might collapse at his feet. He must have understood this because his other arm encircles my waist firmly as his mouth moves over mine. I’m his. All his. My body melts into him and for that perfect, breathless time, all the pieces fall into place. I am where I belong. I didn’t miss anything by not partaking in all the anonymous, frantic, drunken sex that Kylie crows about. I wasn’t wrong to wait. They laughed at me, but I wasn’t ‘being silly’ or ‘being foolish’. My body always knew this existed. This is what I was waiting for all this time.

  By the time the kiss ends, the thick bulge in his jeans is digging into my flesh, and there’s an ache between my legs. For the first time in my life I’m hungry for a man to be inside me. Suddenly, it seems urgent that we get to his hotel. Fast. I barely pay attention to the taxi ride. My hands run over his shoulders and arms as he kisses me until I can’t even think straight. I actually need his help getting out of the car.

  We cross the lobby in large strides. Both of us barely able to keep our hands off each other.

  He opens his room door and I almost fall in. Any other time, I would be fascinated by the size and luxury of his suite. I would have spent some time running my hands over the furniture and admiring the view. Instead, I turn around and launch myself into his arms as he kicks the door closed. He lifts me off my feet. I lose my heels on the way to the bedroom. I’m kissing him madly, groping at him like a horny schoolgirl because that’s how he makes me feel. It is so wild and crazy it is like something out of a dream.

  He sets me down by the edge of the bed and my hands slide under his jacket. I relish the feeling of his powerful shoulders as my hands move over them, pushing the jacket over his arms and letting it drop to the floor. Then my hands lock around his neck as he pulls me in for a deeper kiss. When he grabs my butt in his strong hands and slams my body towards him, I cry out with a strange animal sound.

  “You’re so fucking delicious,” he growls, burying his face in my neck.

  I tilt my head back with a sigh, absorbing his touch and the uncontrollable madness of it all. All I want to do is give myself to him, and let him do what he likes because I know I’ll like it, too. No man has touched me the way he does. Their lips never started a fire under my skin the way his does. I didn’t cry out like an animal when any of them dared to slide a hand under my dress or cup my butt. My nerves are dancing, sending waves of pleasure throughout my body.

  I hear my zipper slide down. My dress falls open. His calloused hands on my bare skin is heaven. I wiggle out of the dress, leaving me in nothing but my matching black-lace bra and panties with the pretty pink bow at the front—thank God I didn’t just throw on any old thing tonight. He pulls back and looks at me from the top of my head to my painted toes, drinking me in with his eyes. His hands work the buttons on his shirt, but his eyes never leave my body. His nostrils flare as he breathes hard.

  The shirt drops and I see that his whole upper-body is inked. Gorgeous animals, angels, skulls, patterns, and crosses run rampant on his big body telling a story of hidden depths. Depths I want to dive into. At that moment I know without any doubt that one day I will get to the bottom of this man.

  “So beautiful. God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he mutters, taking me in his arms and lowering me to the bed.

  I run my hands over his broad back, loving the feel of his silky skin and the corded strength beneath, while he practically … devours me. His tongue reveals my body to me, swirling and licking a trail over my bare skin. Making me feel things I’ve never felt before. With a deft flick of his fingers, he unclasps my bra and moves the cups aside. His eyes widen when he takes in my full breasts. Then he is hungrily lowering his head. Even before he reaches my skin, my nipples begin to tingle with fierce anticipation.

  My back arches and I cry out his name when his warm wet mouth closes over my nipple. My fingers tangle in his thick black hair and I slide one leg up over his. He catches it. Stroking my thigh, his fingers trail further up. It’s sensory overload. I can’t take it, but I don’t want him to ever stop, either.

  “Open for me, baby. I want to get my mouth on your sweet pussy.”

  I part my thighs willingly, and he brushes against my pussy as he moves south. He’s still wearing his pants and I’m still wearing my panties, but when the heat of his hardness presses itself against my open pussy, I gasp with shock. The sensation promises so much. He stops and pushes forward with his hips so his cock rubs against me. Heat races through me.

  It’s so delicious I whimper for more.

  So he gives it to me, again and again, until we’re humping and grunting and breathless, driving each other crazy, pushing ourselves to the edge. He covers my mouth with his and thrusts his tongue inside, keeping time with the thrusts against my pussy, and I can hardly control myself anymore. It’s all too good, too hot, too much. I realize with a mixture of shock and astonishment that I’m about to climax. What will he think of me? Probably the truth. That I’m an inexperienced, absurd thing who gets off just from dry humping.

  I pull away from him, clawing at his shoulders, trying to stop myself, but it is already too late. My body tenses as the first wave hits.

  “Oh … oh, God …!” I cry as unspeakable pleasure floods every inch of me. When I dare open my eyes, horribly embarrassed that I came so pathetically quickly, I find him smiling down at me with a proud, satisfied look on his face.

  “You’re amazing,” he murmurs before kissing me again.

  And again.

  Deeper and deeper.

  He’s hot and ready for me, probably aching the way I was before my release hit. My body
responds to the need in him and to my surprise I feel myself yearning for more. I tug at his belt to show him what I want, and that’s all it takes.

  He breaks the kiss and kneels in front of me, working at his belt, unzipping and dropping his trousers in a blur. I reach for him, caressing his erection through his underwear—it’s so big, so thick. When he rips away the material he springs free, veiny and pulsing with need, l wrap my fingers around him eagerly.

  “Careful,” he chuckles, moving my hand away. But he’s not really laughing. His jaw is clenched tight, like he’s barely holding onto control as he unrolls a condom. Then, he hooks his fingers under the waistband of my panties—I lift my legs straight up and he drags the lacy scrap down and tosses them aside. When he stretches out on top of me, I welcome him by wrapping my arms around him. Holding him as close as I can, I whisper, “You know the way my friends were staring at us?”

  He looks at me distractedly, as if the words are not really hitting home.

  “It’s because I’ve never gone home with any man before.”

  His eyes widen. “Whoa! Back up. What are you trying to tell me?”

  I feel my cheeks grow hot. “I’ve … never been with a man.”

  “You’re a virgin?” he utters incredulously.

  I nod slowly.

  “Okay,” he says slowly, then a thought occurs to him and he frowns and looks at me suspiciously. “You are above eighteen, right?”

  “I didn’t lie before. I am twenty-two.”

  He exhales with relief. “Phew, for a moment there …”

  I bite my lip. “Sorry, I should have told you earlier.”

  Chapter Seven

  Tyson

  I lay my fingers on her soft lips, “Don’t. Don’t ever apologize for being untouched.”

  She stares up at me, her eyes enormous.

  Looking into them makes me feel like a lion. I try to wrap my head around the fantastic fact that no other man has had her. Then suddenly: greed. Fuck, I can claim her for me. The sensation the thought produces shocks me. The idea of marking her with my cock is primal, feral, animal-like, and ridiculous, and yet a wild joy erupts in my chest. I bend my head and brush my lips against her forehead, her temple, her nose, her cheek. She’s so soft and so delicate. I inhale her scent. I lick her skin. It’s like I can’t stop touching her. I swoop down and catch her nipple between my teeth. It feels like silk in my mouth. I suck and I bite. She doesn’t stop me. She belongs to me. I can do whatever I like.