"And that's ten," I said, approaching the girl by the bar as she laid an empty shot glass down next to nine others, having charmed the bartender into allowing her to do this.
"The drinks or the men?" she slurred with a cheeky smirk. I returned the light, flirtatious smile with one of my own. She knew that I'd been watching her. So much for subtlety. "Do you like what you see?" she forged on, turning her body towards me. I let my gaze take a long, slow look at everything that was presented to me. Her legs went on forever. She had an hourglass figure and a sea of red went down her back. And her iconic face was that of a goddess'. She dismissed nine men already tonight. Were they watching us like I watched them? Or did they find a way to drag their eyes away from her? "I wouldn't have been watching all night if I didn't," I admitted, smoothly gliding into the stool beside her. She bit the corner of her lip, little sparks of frustration lighting up her grey eyes. "Hey gorgeous," she said, clumsily motioning with her index finger for me to lean in. Wondering how much of her confidence came from the tequila and how much of it was real, I did as she wanted and let her draw me in. My gaze followed her finger as it landed on my lower lip. Her gaze lingered on mine, captivating me. Manwhore that I was, she shouldn't have had my heartbeat picking up speed and yet she did. She hadn't spent this much time on the last guy. Her finger traced my lips as she debated what to do with her latest plaything. Emboldened by her touch, I took her hand into both of mine and gingerly sucked her finger into my mouth. Surprise and excitement collided on her face as my tongue swirled round and round her digit. "Charmed, Ms Britney O'Prey," I returned, dragging her finger out of my mouth. She was startled at the pop of her finger leaving my lips, but was quick to compose herself and yank her hand away. "Britney O'Prey. That's me. You know my name," she said, looking down and smoothing out her skirt as though to compose herself before looking back up at me. "Who doesn't, right? Britney O'Prey, supermodel of the hour. Caught your big break when you debuted at fashion week in Milan two years ago. Beyond that, and your talent of course—" I gave her a quick once over again. "The world seems to know precious little about you." And the frustrated glint in her eyes was back, this time with a vengeance. "So much for peace and quiet," she mumbled. "I thought this place was for the elite and famous to take a load off without being harassed." She signaled for the bartender to bring her another drink. The bartender locked eyes with me and I gave him a nod. "Aah, that is the promise, isn't it? One hundred elite celebrities and rich folk, hand picked and vetted by a billionaire. All for you to share this extraordinary island with for the duration of your vacation." The bartender set down two drinks; her cocktail and my usual scotch on the rocks. She gave me a look of irritation. "Surely even such a promise should have its limits though, don't you think?" "Easy for you to say." She scoffed, pulling the little umbrella out of her glass before picking the glass up and taking the straw into her mouth to take a sip. My eyes followed her movements of their own accord, lingering on her lips as she licked the alcohol off of them. "I swear I've had every man in the place hit on me by now. I just got here twenty-four hours ago," she grumbled, yanking the straw out of the glass and knocking back the rest of her cocktail. "What's a girl gotta do to get some peace and quiet around here?" At this claim, I flashed her my pearly whites and slid off of the stool. "Forgive my boldness, Ms O'Prey." I took her hands into mine. "But beauty like yours simply isn't meant to be ignored. I'm afraid your plight is one that you'll carry with you throughout your stay here." "Think I can sue Mr. Hunter for false advertising?" A ghost of a smile played on her lips and her cheeks flushed a light pink as I made my way to the back of the bar. She raised an eyebrow at me in curiosity. I wondered what shocked her more: that I left her side of my own volition or that I was now on the other side of the bar. Britney O'Prey certainly wasn't what I expected. I watched all night to see who would be the one to take her home. By guy number five, I debated throwing my own hat into the ring. Not one to mix business with pleasure, I resisted the urge. In the end, it seemed that I ought to have trusted my initial instincts. Alas, no man was getting her between the sheets, not tonight. As much as it pained me, it was best to live to fight another day. I spoke a few words to the bartender, who then relayed the same to the rest of the staff. I watched as they all sprung into action. Within half an hour, the restaurant was empty. She jumped down from her stool and took a look around the place as I approached her. "How did you–" she began in an accusatory tone. "There's little even Will Hunter can do to make you less desirable. I do, however, hope this offers you some consolation. If you'll excuse me, Ms O'Prey," I said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "Wait," she called after me as I turned to walk away. "Drinks and dessert are on the house," I called back, now some distance from her. "Where did everyone go? Where are you going?" she persisted. Unable to help myself, I stopped, turned and took one last look at her. Live to fight another day, be the gentleman you're not. I repeated this to myself on a loop, before responding to her. "Why, to prepare my legal team for a potential lawsuit, of course," I said with a chuckle. She grimaced. "You're Will Hunter, the billionaire who–" "Owns Cupid's Cove," I finished for her. She opened her mouth to speak, but I raised my hand to stop her. "This is a tactical retreat. No promises about the next time we meet." The waiter came up to her with a menu, waiting to escort her to the table of her choice. "Until next time then, Mr. Hunter," she said, her face easing back into a smile as she followed after the waiter.Another four months later…We'd spent the first half of the morning surfing. Keeping up with Will was next to impossible, but the longer we spent on Cupid's Cove, the better I got."What about the hike to the waterfall? We were going to go for a swim," I asked in between kisses, but Will was already too far gone, not that it took much."Later," he mumbled into my mouth, before his fingers fumbled for the zipper of my wetsuit.The sound of him pulling the zipper down mixed with our eager moans as our little pecks turned into a deep, toe curling, passionate make out session. It always surprised me how fast he could get my clothes off, even when it came to things like wetsuits. As he peeled the fabric from my skin, he replaced its presence with his warm hands, making me shiver.By the time the wetsuit fell to my feet, we were still stumbling around in the corridor of the first floor.Will reached out for a door, his mouth still sucking on mine as I repaid the favor of removing his wetsui
Six months later… "I'm so going to be late," said Bianca, emerging into the kitchen, dressed in a white pantsuit. Before she could get past me and make a play for the coffee, my arms went around her waist and I pulled her towards me. "You're about to be even later, looking like you do," I said, looking her up and down appreciatively before stealing a kiss. "You see people in suits all day," she said, rolling her eyes playfully as she locked her fingers behind my neck. "I do, but you're the only one of those people I've fucked all over this kitchen," I cooed, stealing another kiss, my lips lingering on hers a little longer. She deepened the kiss, leaning into me. My hand slid up to cup and squeeze her breast, causing her to moan, slap my hand and pull away. "I can't be late. It's my first day at the DA's office. I need to make a good impression," she insisted, slipping out of my arms. "Trust me, you've already made an impression on your new boss," I sassed. "Are
The days leading up to the launch dragged by slowly. Harmon had Will's schedule packed so full that we hadn't seen each other since the day of Britney's press conference. After seeing Will every day for over a month, not seeing him for the last two weeks made me … uncomfortable, for lack of a better word. It was the strangest thing. I had never felt anything like it before. He made a point of checking in with me every night before he went to bed. While I looked forward to the thirty to sixty minutes that I would spend on a video call with him every night, it just wasn't the same. When launch day finally came, I had to keep my distance from Britney so as not to gouge her eyes out. Will didn't want to distract from the airline's launch by confirming our relationship publicly ahead of it. This had me a bit worried, to be honest. Something told me it was more than that, but I didn't push the issue. It didn't help knowing that he would spend the day next t
With his hand still in mine, Will raised a finger to his lips, indicating for me to be quiet as he tugged on my hand and led me away from the rapidly forming crowd. "What is going on?" I whispered, as we tiptoed out the back door. "If we're very careful, we can make a run for it without being seen," Will whispered back. Taking twists and turns with our backs up against walls, I felt like a naughty child escaping punishment as Will and I stepped up to the elevator, narrowly avoiding the crowd just behind us. We giggled as we waited for the doors to open, shushed each other, then giggled some more while stepping into the elevator. His arms were around my waist and mine around his neck in no time. As the doors closed and Will fumbled to push the button to the roof, our lips found each other's. His warm, familiar hands slipped under my skirt, bunching it up a
My palm was red from punching my fist into it as we all nervously crowded around Olivia's tablet to watch Britney's press conference. Fuck, Britney looked nervous and her cheeks were a deep pink. Was she drunk? I couldn't imagine how she would, but Britney had a knack for making bad situations worse. As I readied my fist to stuff it back into my palm again, Will slipped his hand into mine, rubbing small circles into my palm. He didn't look at me, didn't say a word, but I knew he was letting me know that everything would be okay. "What Jason said in the video is true, in case there was any doubt. The woman in the photos and video is not Bianca Hastings, it's me," Britney blurted out. The press started yelling questions at a flustered Britney, until she pointed at someone in the crowd. "Is Bianca Hastings your twin?" the reporter asked. "Yes," Britney ans
"Can we shut this down? Stop the video from spreading?" I asked, glancing at Bianca. She looked like a different person, wearing one of my shirts and a baggy pair of sweatpants. My vixen was doing her best to remain calm, but I could tell that everything was getting to her. That was why, after a brief shower and change of clothes, we reconvened with Harmon and Macy via conference call. Before braving the outside world, where the paparazzi lurked around every corner, including outside the gates of the mansion, I wanted to know all the facts. "Too late. It's gone viral. Will, you need to think of the company," said Harmon, ever the pragmatist. "In other words, dump my friend when she's at her lowest," said Macy. And we were back to the fighting. If Macy and Harmon were in the same room, they'd be tearing each other's hair out by now. They could fight about what kind of blue the sky