I look down, feeling her warm hands on my chest, stroking my pecs and abs through my shirt and inching closer to my belt. Without thinking, I take hold of her hands to stop her and she pauses.

  “Tell me more about you,” I say.

  Penelope blinks. “What?”

  I ease a step back. “Earlier, your dad mentioned you like to hike?”

  She nods. “Yeah, I do.”

  “Where do you go?”

  “Um...”

  I head toward the mini-fridge in the corner, quickly popping it open and snatching the first tiny bottle I find. “LA, right?” I ask.

  “Yeah.”

  “I like to jog around Cahuenga Peak when I’m in town.” I pat my leg. “Looking forward to getting back there for training, eventually.”

  Penelope tilts her head with interest. “Cahuenga is usually a bit too crowded for me,” she says. “I prefer to hit up Sandstone when the urge arises but I haven’t had a lot of time to go recently.”

  I twist the cap on the tiny bottle. Rum, by the smell of it. “Cool,” I say. “What else do you like to do?”

  She squints and bites her cheek. “Did I... do something wrong?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Because...” She looks at my open shirt and pinches the sagging neckline. “I mean, we were kinda in the middle of doing something and then...”

  I step forward and offer her the tiny bottle. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Penny,” I say. “I just... felt the urge to talk to you. Get to know who you are a little before...”

  Penelope accepts the bottle. “Does that urge usually strike you mid-kiss?” she asks.

  “Honestly, not really.”

  She hums and takes the slightest swig. “Fair enough.”

  I take the bottle back and she shifts over to the right bed, softly kicking off her heels before sliding onto it. “I work at a hair salon in Burbank,” she says.

  I sit down on the left bed, facing her. “Oh, yeah?” I ask, remembering her photos online. “How’d you get into that?”

  She lies down on her side and props her head up on her elbow. “Oh, it’s my dream job, basically,” she says. “While all the other kids were dressing their dolls in various clothes, I was constantly fiddling with the hair.”

  “I know what you mean,” I say. “Not about the dolls, obviously, but while my brothers were all about music and video games or whatever, I just wanted to play baseball.”

  “My mother hates it. I didn’t pay to put you through one of the most prestigious private schools in the country for you to play makeover,” she mocks.

  “Which private school?” I ask.

  “Belle Academy.”

  “Oh, those losers.” She frowns and I laugh. “Sorry. I went to Pryce.”

  She laughs louder. “Oh, those assholes.”

  “We deserve that,” I say as I extend the bottle toward her again.

  She pauses and takes a sip. “To this day, she’s still holding out on me changing my mind and going to law school so I can work with her. At twenty-five.”

  “What’s she do?”

  “She’s a lawyer. Works for Keith Monahan.”

  I blink, vaguely recognizing the name. “The guy who represents Italian mob bosses and stuff?”

  “That’s the guy.” She scoffs as she passes the bottle back to me.

  “Well, personally, I think you made the right choice.”

  “Me, too. I sleep better at night knowing that trimming the occasional Michael Corleone haircut is the closest I’ll get to being morally bankrupt.”

  I nod. “If you don’t count lying to your family about fake boyfriends, of course.”

  “I don’t.”

  I raise the tiny bottle. “Fair enough.”

  She laughs as I take a slow sip. I don’t know how it’s possible but I think her laugh is quickly becoming my favorite sound in the world. It’s a close second behind the hum of a sold-out stadium, of course, but I wouldn’t be at all surprised if that got dethroned at some point tonight.

  To be fair, I haven’t heard her moan yet.

  I set the near-empty bottle down on the bedside table between us and stand up. Her chin tilts up as I rise and she says nothing as I lower myself down to lie on the bed beside her. I face her, my head propped up like hers, and I take a deep breath of the six blissful inches of air between us.

  Penelope presses her lips together as her cheeks burn as pink as her hair. “Tell me about your brothers,” she says.

  “My brothers?” I repeat.

  “Yeah, you said you had brothers. How many?”

  “Three.”

  She cringes. “Oh, your poor mother.”

  I laugh. “It’s all right. She survived. Barely.”

  “Any sisters?”

  “No. It’s just us boys. My big brother, Graham, works for the hotel. He travels to other locations to uphold the Botsford quality. He checks to make sure they’re following standards, trains the staff in new procedures, things like that.”

  “Sounds like fun,” she says. “If you’re into that kind of thing.”

  “He seems to enjoy it enough. Then, I have two little brothers. Ira works for the hotel, too. He lives upstairs on the 25th floor, actually.”

  Her jaw drops. “He lives here? That sounds like... paradise.”

  “He’s head of security. Living on site makes it easy for him to dislodge the stick up his ass and leap into heroic action at a moment’s notice if he needs to.”

  “Does he take his job really seriously?”

  “Nah, I just like to give him shit. He was a Marine so he can be a stickler about some things.”

  “Wow.” She reaches out and straightens my twisted collar. “We’ve got a world traveler, a professional baseball player, and a Marine. Almost scared to ask about the fourth brother.”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  Penelope releases my collar and drops her hand, resting it suspiciously close to my own. “Is he an astronaut or something?” she asks.

  “Close.” I smile. “Jonah’s a rock god. He’s in a band.”

  “Anyone I’ve heard of?”

  “Probably. He plays bass for Criminal Records.”

  She jerks upward. “No way...”

  I nod. “Yes way.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I’m totally serious.”

  She bounces on the mattress. “My cousin got us tickets to their show tomorrow night!”

  “Awesome,” I say. “Have you seen them before?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “Well, you’re gonna love it. Jo really knows how to put on a show.”

  Her face twitches with excitement. “This is so cool. I’m the fake girlfriend of the brother of the bassist from Criminal Records.”

  “Or… you know… the fake girlfriend of the third baseman for Los Angeles…”

  She lets out a long breath. “I dunno. Sounds cooler the other way,” she teases.

  I feign a playful glare. “It’s a good thing we had this conversation,” I say, inching my hand closer to hers. “It would have been weird if you didn’t know your boyfriend’s little brother was in the band.”

  She pauses, her eyes falling to our hands between us. “Yeah, you’re right,” she says. “We’ve been together for... twelve weeks, right?”

  “Twelve weeks, three days,” I say.

  “Feels like just yesterday. Or, this morning, I guess.” She bites her lip. “Thanks again. For... helping me out.”

  My hand moves on its own, gently running my fingertips along her forearm. “You’re welcome,” I say, easing closer. I take another deep breath, holding her sweet scent in my nose for as long as possible.

  Penelope raises her eyes, locking on mine as she tilts in toward me. “Hayden...” she whispers.

  “Yeah?” I ask.

  “What did you want?” she asks.

  “What do you mean?”

  Her cheeks flush. “You said you wanted something sweeter than money in return. I got the feeling it wasn’t just to sit by you at a poker game.”

  I nod. “Yeah, I had something else in mind.”

  She swallows. “What was it?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

  I let my fingers roam up her arm and shoulder, coming to a soft touch on her cheek. “I’ll let you know in a minute,” I say.

  I push in, bridging the short gap between us. I kiss her again, slow but firm. Her lips part and her hand rests on my wrist as I crush my mouth over hers again and again.

  Chapter 9

  Penelope

  For a second, I’m not sure where I am.

  Or whose life I suddenly woke up in.

  Because this sure as hell isn’t mine.

  This cloud-like bed with the million thread count sheets isn’t mine. This gorgeous, swanky hotel suite isn’t mine. The billionaire lying asleep behind me with one arm spooned around my waist sure as shit isn’t mine either. And yet... here I am.

  And there he is.

  Still fully-clothed with his shirt unbuttoned. I remember doing that last night. Gently flicking them open one-by-one as he put his hands on my body. My dress feels loose. I recall the way he rolled the zipper down halfway… then stopped just to kiss my neck.

  We talked. We kissed. We teased an article of clothing to come off but never quite got there. We talked some more. He kissed me again. At some point, we drifted off until morning.

  Hayden stirs behind me and I freeze, pretending to still be asleep. His breath tingles my neck and his soft touch slowly shifts off my belly to my hip. His head moves. He’s definitely awake now. Probably glancing around in confusion and wondering how he ended up in my bed with some girl fully-clothed and unsatisfied like a—

  His lips graze the back of my neck just beneath my ear. It’s the same warm and tender kiss he gave me all night. He kisses me again, trailing a line toward my earlobe and I officially can’t stop the shivers from taking my spine.

  “Good morning,” he says.

  I smile, unable to pretend anymore. “Good morning,” I repeat.

  Hayden touches my shoulder and guides me onto my back so he can see my face. I smile at the state of his hair; all smashed off to one side of his head. His eyes draw a halo around my head and I cringe at what mine might look like.

  God, please don’t make me look like a swamp monster after my night in bed with Hayden freakin’ Botsford.

  “You sleep okay?” he asks.

  I nod. “Perfect.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.” He rests his hand on my side. I touch his arms, feeling his biceps twitch beneath his sleeves as he balances beside me. “What time is it?” he asks, not even glancing at the clock.

  “I don’t know,” I say, unable to turn away. “Morning time? I think.”

  He smiles. His hand slowly climbs my waist and settles dangerously close to my breast. “I think you might be right,” he says, drifting closer. “It’s daylight.”

  “Usually the best indicator,” I say with a nod.

  I feel my body tremble on its own. My teeth chatter from charred nerves and my skin heats up beneath his touch.

  Hayden dips his head, bringing his lips to my collarbone. I close my eyes, immersing myself beneath the feel of his lips gently pursing as he draws a line to my neck. I let out a quivering breath and he kisses me even deeper, that hand of his starting the slow trek upward to cup my breast completely. I touch him, letting my hands roam his arms and sides as his mouth finds its way to mine.

  He kisses me on the lips, so full of heat and greed, and I shudder as my heart pounds against my ribs.

  Hayden stops and his hand falls away as he leans back. “Fuck,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

  I open my eyes. “Sorry?” I ask, finding my voice.

  “I shouldn’t kiss you like this.”

  “Kiss me like what?”

  He bites down, flexing his jaw. “Like you’re mine.”

  My breath catches. Like I’m his? But aren’t I?

  No, Pen. You’re not.

  But aren’t you?

  Have the lines between what’s pretend and what’s real blurred as much for him as they have for me?

  Was last night a mistake? Or the start of something more?

  I ease upward, slowly bridging the gap he made between our mouths. I kiss him, gently pecking on the edge of his cheek.

  Just a kiss, a simple kiss. He can kiss me back. Or he can stop it if he wants to.

  But seriously, man.

  Kiss me back.

  Hayden’s fingers pulse once on my hip but otherwise, he doesn’t move. He lingers above me with his eyes closed, his breath held as fast as mine. I wait for him to react, repeating those three words over and over again.

  Kiss me back. Kiss me back. Kiss me—

  He crushes his lips on mine, taking them before I even get the chance to breathe. I squeeze his arms, guiding him even closer and Hayden shifts to lie on top of me. I gasp for air, unwilling to part from his lips long enough to satisfy my lungs.

  This kiss. It’s different from last night. Then, it felt so playful and restrained, like he was holding back but so was I. I won’t lie and say I didn’t invite him in with dirty intentions. I definitely did. But as we laid here together, our hands exploring each other and we couldn’t stop talking...

  It was amazing.

  But so is this.

  This kiss is hot and rough. Deep urges rushing out from within us to take what we’ve wanted since the moment we met downstairs at the bar.

  Hayden reaches down and I feel his hand on my thigh. His fingers hook the bottom of my skirt and he yanks it up, forcefully raising my dress as he slips a knee between my legs.

  I lie back, resting my knees on either side of him as he towers over me. He pauses for a moment and I tremble beneath the heat of his eyes on me as his hands inch beneath my dress toward my panties. I bite my lip as my entire body buzzes and spasms in anticipation. His touch is so tempting and teasing but the smirk on his face tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing...

  Hayden finds my panties and he pulls them down to my knees. I straighten my legs and he slides the cotton barrier down to my ankles and quickly tosses it to the floor. He settles between my knees again and lowers down to kiss me. Our bodies press together and I nearly gasp at the large, hard shape digging into my belly. I reach between us to loosen his belt but Hayden takes my hands and pins them over my head before I can. Our kiss deepens, tongues battling as his hips firmly grind against my mound.

  I moan into his mouth, unable to fight the burning pleasure taking hold of me. Hayden releases my hands and explores, touching my face and arms and breasts as he begins to slide downward. I breathe even harder as his kiss attacks my neck and chest. I arch my back, pushing up for more of his touch as I grind against his body while I still can.

  He shifts down, his face disappearing amid the skirt of my dress. He kisses my inner thighs, making them instantly quiver with anticipation and I can’t help but moan a little more for him.

  Hayden turns his head, trading kisses from one thigh to the other, inching closer and closer to my wet, throbbing—

  Someone knocks on the door and Hayden stops.

  “Penelope! Are you awake?”

  I shoot up, gritting my teeth at the familiar voice. “Shit!” I whisper.

  Hayden sits back on his knees. “Your mother,” he says, recognizing her.

  “Yeah,” I huff with disappointment.

  The knocking continues.

  “Penelope? Are you okay?”

  I bite my lip as throbbing pleasure slips through my fingers. “Maybe she’ll just go away—”

  “Penelope!”

  “Or not.”

  “Are you in there?” The knocks become pounds. “Pen! Are you okay?!”

  I deflate, giving up. “I’m coming, Mom! I mean—” I stop as Hayden smothers his laugh against my belly. “I’m awake. I’ll be right out!”

  “Okay, honey,” she says. “The party bus arrives in twenty minutes. Don’t take too long!”

  My cheeks burn red. “I won’t...”

  We lie still, waiting until she’s really gone... plus about a thousand years because that’s how long it’ll take for me to not feel mortified whenever I think about this moment.

  I plop back down to the pillow and stare at the white ceiling. “Well, that wasn’t at all awkward,” I say.

  Hayden slowly raises his head. His cheeks are pink and his dimples are permanently carved into his jaw from laughing so hard. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, settling beside me. “She’s kinda like my mother. The DO NOT DISTURB sign is less of a suggestion and more of a challenge.”

  I chuckle. “Well, at least we have something in common.”

  He tilts my chin in his direction. “More than just something,” he says.

  I melt into his kiss all over again, wanting to pick up right where we left off, but Hayden stops after a moment and pushes up on his arms.

  “I should get going,” he says. “You don’t want to miss the party bus.”

  I sit up and exhale the heat from my lungs as I push my dress down to cover my thighs. “You’re probably right,” I say. “Won’t hear the end of it if I do...”

  “Where’s the party bus going?” he asks as he begins buttoning his shirt.

  I shrug. “Breakfast first, then gift shops and casinos until dinner at the top of Stratosphere. The same touristy stuff we do every year. I usually slip away during the casino phase to hide out at a poker table but somebody has already scratched that itch for me this weekend.”

  Hayden flashes a wink. “Welcome to the Botsford Plaza,” he jokes. “We scratch itches.”

  “You certainly do.”

  He turns away to scan the floor. I point between the beds at his shoes and he nods a thank you.

  I swing and place my bare feet on the floor. “What do you have going on today?” I ask.

  “I’m not sure.” He sits on the opposite bed to slip his shoes on. “I should probably take it easy, though.”

  “Is your knee okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s fine. Doctor’s orders, that’s all. Might as well pretend to take them seriously.”

  I smile. “Fair enough.”