Page 71 of Elite Connections: an LGBTQ Romance Charity Anthology

Welp,I didn’t sleep. At all. Great. I’m going to be a hot mess throughout the entire party. My brain wouldn’t shut off the entire night. Questions and scenarios and, ugh, fantasies ran through my mind from the second I closed my eyes until the second I opened them and decided enough was enough.

I snuck down to the kitchen around three in the morning. I knew if I started to work on the drink menu, I’d get tired eventually, and by working on the drink menu, I mean I was literally mixing and concocting and tasting and therefore slightly tipsy by four. I was a little nervous that someone was going to catch me, but I didn’t see a soul. At six, I came back to the room and decided enough was truly enough.

I put on yoga pants and a shirt so I can go for a run. Maybe that will help calm my nerves. Once I’ve stretched, I creep back through the house, then treat myself to a slight panic attack when I realize I don’t know the alarm code. How am I not going to set it off when I escape onto the grounds? But then—thank god—I see it’s already been disarmed.

I immediately head toward the ocean, hoping to seek some peace and quiet by the shore. Thankfully, I find the stairs down to the beach with ease. I’ve never been so happy for a moment’s solace in my entire life. The last thing I want is to deal with anyone. My staff will arrive at noon. I have a few hours to figure out how to handle my very tired self while I obsess about Alison.

Did Alison Grace seriously hit on me last night? Did she say that I’m not an accident? What did she mean by that?

Honestly, it doesn’t matter what she meant by that. I am off-limits. My team is off-limits. I’ve been through too many instances where things got out of hand because the host decided to take advantage of one or all of us. It’s not okay, and it’s not fun.

Not that I think Alison would ever do that. She is clearly working her stuff out, and this party is a prime example of that. I fear that River is right, though. It doesn’t matter how careful she is; things like this get out. It’s only a matter of time. Not everyone is trustworthy, and unfortunately, most people have a price tag. If one person sneaks in with a secret camera or a microphone, they’re all fucked. Unless, of course, every person invited is in the same boat as Alison, which could very well be the case. Dealing with the uber-rich and famous has taught me a couple of things. One, not everyone is kind, especially if they have money. And two, no one is as they seem.

I want to believe that Alison is different, though.

I’m going to get burned by that mentality. I can feel it in my bones.

I slow my run to a jog, a walk, and then stop entirely as I look out at the ocean. I breathe in the salty air. The view is magnificent. Over the past couple of years, I’ve realized that I simply don’t take advantage of my job. I end up rushing through the days and nights without taking a second to enjoy the experience, and I rarely stop to enjoy my life. This job has given me so many opportunities, so many amazing stories, but I distanced myself from being taken aback by the pomp and circumstance because, just like a shell on this beach, it’s so easy to get swept away. Every now and then, however, I need to take a beat and enjoy where I am. Like, look at me now. At Alison Grace’s oceanside mansion, preparing to execute an event only a few super-important and famous people know about. I’ll walk away with more money than should be allowed, and the entire time, I’ll be wondering if Alison was tipsy and speaking the truth last night or tipsy and filled with delusional fantasies.

“Delusional fantasies for sure,” I mutter, my gaze still fixed on the waves, which are much calmer than usual. I saw a couple of weather reports about a storm brewing, but the weatherman I trust the most said nothing would materialize. I hope he’s right. I don’t want to have to deal with a storm on top of everything else tonight.

“Well, well, well…”

Alison’s voice shakes me out of my reverie as she approaches from my left, where I was jogging away from, and I kick myself for stopping and taking in the view. If I’d just kept going, I wouldn’t have to deal with seeing her while I’m a sweaty mess. When I turn and look at her, though, I realize the view I was wowed by earlier is laughable compared to the sight of her in jogging shorts and a sports bra, wearing a zip-up hoodie that is fluttering open in the cool, crisp morning breeze.

“I had no idea you were a runner,” she says, slowing down when she gets to me and pushing her sweaty bangs away from her face. “I would have told you to come with me.” She’s not breathing heavily at all, which makes me chuckle. The reports about how much she trained for the tour she just finished were insane. She’d go for hours and hours a day. She’d run while singing every single song and wouldn’t stop until she could do it without sounding breathless. I could have never kept up with her, even if she did sort of resemble Phoebe Buffay when she was running.

“Yeah, I, um, I didn’t really sleep much last night.” I can’t keep looking at her, so I focus on the waterlogged sand and how my running shoes keep leaving my prints behind.

“Me either,” she says softly. “Hey, I wanted to apologize for, y’know, everything I said. That wine went right to my head. I haven’t really been drinking much and then had half a bottle and…” Her voice trails off, and when I look up at her, she literally looks like she’s pleading for me to forget everything. Every look, every touch, every word. I don’t think she realizes I will never forget any of it. And, truthfully, I don’t want to forget. Even if admitting that means I’m letting this all go to my head…

“No need to apologize.” I offer her a smile in hopes that she sees how serious I am. “I get it. It’s okay.”

“I would never want you to think that I’m just some famous, aloof idiot who doesn’t understand boundaries.” She adjusts her hoodie, and my eyes stupidly go right to her cleavage, peeking its way out of her sports bra. I want to smack myself as I tear my eyes away.

“Alison,” I say, “I promise you couldn’t do anything that would make me think less of you.”

She takes a deep breath, and I can see her shoulders physically relax and her jaw unclench. “Thank you.” She looks in the direction I was running, then back to her house. “Okay, well, I’ll see you back there?”

“Unless you want another couple of miles under your belt?”

She shrugs. “I normally run five or six a day, so I could. If you want.”

What am I doing? Why would I invite her to come with me?

“That would be lovely.”

Literally, I’m the aloof idiot. And also way too into this to be able to make an intelligent decision, apparently.

* * *

We didn’t exchange a single word as we ran. It was one of the best runs of my life, though, and I found myself wanting to thank her for pushing me. At forty-five, I feel pretty good that I could keep up with her, even if I’m a thousand percent sure she was holding herself back. Either way, when we get back to the house and she thanks me, I can only nod as we go our separate ways.

I’m feeling things for her that I absolutely shouldn’t be feeling. I want to know more about her. I want to ask her questions and find out what makes her tick. I’ve never known anyone as intriguing as her. Most of the celebrities I meet are stone-faced, and reading them is like picking up a book not translated into English. But her? God. The half of her book that’s already in English is so exciting, and the other half is begging for me to translate it. All I want is to know more.

None of this is good. Honestly. I need to pump the brakes on whatever I’m doing. After she said last night she was tipsy, I convinced myself that everything she was saying wasn’t true. It was alcohol-induced, and we all know that means nothing. Alcohol-induced confessions aren’t genuine, even if sometimes they have a thin thread of truth buried beneath the slurred words.

After I shower, do my hair and makeup, and dress in the uniform Alison picked out for my team, I look in the mirror. I turn, check out my backside, and then spin again. I look great. My hair is holding the beach-waved curl perfectly, and my makeup looks flawless. I’ve been experimenting as I age with different eye shadows and eyeliners. I finally found the perfect combination for my deep-set eyes and naturally arched eyebrows that doesn’t make me look like I’m trying too hard to be a younger version of myself. Don’t get me wrong, I still would like to appear younger than I am, but I’m feeling myself these days, and damn, it’s really nice.

The uniform is surprisingly comfortable, even if the tight tank top is showing off way more cleavage than I’m generally okay with. I’ve been working so hard in the past few years to keep my body from falling apart on me. The Peloton classes, weight lifting, and extra miles jogging through the streets of Harlem have paid off.

At five minutes till noon, I hear rambunctious laughter followed by, “Shh, Roberta is gonna kill us if she hears us.”

In an effort to frighten them, purely for fun, of course, I swing open the door to my bedroom and try to give them my best glare. “You’re absolutely right. I’m going to kill you all if you don’t keep it down.”

Timothy’s eyes widen, and he grips Natasha’s arm as he gulps. “Sorry, Roberta.”

“Get your asses in here.” I wave them in, shut the door, and start laughing at their scared faces. “Everyone, I’m kidding. I know this is intense.” They collectively release the deep breaths they were holding. “I promise. I know we will have to find the humor to get through this surreal dream.”

“Oh, thank Christ,” Julie says in her husky voice. She runs her hands through her short hair. “I really thought we already fucked up.”

“No, you haven’t fucked up. But,” I start, as I make the most serious eye contact I’ve ever made, “everyone needs to be on their A-plus-plus-plus game tonight. I’m talking absolutely the most impressive you’ve ever been. You hear me?”

Timothy and Lucy, in unison, say, “Gotcha, boss.”

“Damn, you look fucking hot as hell,” Nick says as he puts his hands on my shoulders. “You clean up real nice, Rob.”

He’s the only person I have ever allowed to call me Rob. Sometimes I want to smack him, but others, like right now, he’s put enough of a compliment at the beginning of his sentence to make me not be irritated with him. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Yes, we are all very lucky you love us.” Nick grins. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here, and”—then he drops all pretense—“oh holy shit, I am fucking stoked out of my mind to be here!”

I smile at his antics. “I’m delighted you all made it. I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else. Oh, before I forget… Julie, you’re going to have to sit with Ms. Grace’s publicist, River, and her team before the event to find out what is and isn’t allowed into the party. No cells, no cameras, no electronic devices of any kind, I think.”

“I had a feeling,” Julie answers. “I’m not saying I have my finger on the pulse of Alison Grace’s life, but I haven’t heard a single peep on social media about this. Usually, there are rumblings, but so far, nada.”

“Bro,” Nick says as he nudges Julia. “This is gonna be epic.”

“I know I don’t need to remind any of you of this, but please remember that you signed a very extensive NDA.” I’m having heart palpitations just listening to their conversation. The five of them are the only people I trust on the event execution side of Elite. We’re in the top tier of the agency. The faith I have in them is unmatched. But I know if I don’t say anything, I’ll wonder the entire night. “This is probably the most locked-down party we will ever work. Every person here will have signed an NDA. The attendees, the security, everyone. Do not fuck this up. Got it?”

“No offense, Roberta,” Natasha says as she reaches forward and touches my arm, “but we all love our jobs just as much as you love yours. We’re not going to do anything stupid.”

“She’s right.” Lucy shrugs. “I’m going to be way too starstruck to remember a single thing anyway.”

Everyone laughs, including me, because same. “Honestly, right? I’m sure it will be a lot to process.” I lead them all into the rooms they’re sharing and give them the thirty-second tour. I point out their uniforms, and they all let out excited squeals, including Julie, whom I have literally never heard make a noise pitched above middle C. “Please clean up and be ready by two o’clock. We are needed downstairs by fifteen after. If any of you are late, you might as well not even show up. You hear me?”

They all salute me while holding back laughter. I want to punch them, but I’m glad they’re not taking themselves as seriously as I’m taking myself.

“Yes, we hear you, Rob.” Nick winks at me, and I feel maybe a minuscule amount calmer.

Maybe.

But not really.

Because this party is going to be everything. Messing up cannot happen.

* * *

Thank Christ, none of them are late. We all report to the main dining room on time and receive the ins and outs of the party from River and her team. Alison hasn’t appeared, which is good because I don’t think my team is going to handle meeting her in person well. They better not embarrass me. That’s all I have to say.

At four o’clock, I pass out the headsets I always make my team wear. Usually, I hear a few groans because they don’t think they’re necessary. But this time, no one makes a peep as they secure them in their ears and slip the battery pack onto the back waistband of their pants. After a small pep talk that includes me reminding them to, for the love of all that is good and holy, be fucking professional, Nick and Natasha start setting up the bar. Aside from Clarice, the woman who trained me, they’re two of the best bartenders I’ve ever worked with, and the best part is that they learned everything they know from me. I actually trained them both at the job I had before Elite. Once I realized Elite was legit, I recruited them, and we’ve been together ever since.

Julie has been in intense conversation with River since our staff meeting ended. I’ve already received the rundown from her twice, so I didn’t sit in on this one. I trust Julie with my life. I met her at a party I was executing in Manhattan when I was five years into Elite. She wasn’t a bouncer at the time, but she broke up a fight that started in the men’s bathroom. I didn’t ask why she was in the men’s room until years later. “The lines are shorter,” she said matter-of-factly. She’s not wrong. But thank god she was in there because I swooped her up, and she’s been unstoppable ever since. I feel 100 percent safer with her at the front door of any party I execute.

Timothy and Lucy are with the caterer, who has been throwing a fit ever since she found out she wasn’t allowed to bring in additional staff. I tried to tell her three different times that Timothy and Lucy would knock her socks off, but she didn’t want to hear it. When I swing by to check on them, she seems a little calmer, but of course, Timothy has been making eyes at her the entire time. His baby blues and chiseled jawline would calm down even the most tightly wound person, and Lucy has a way with people that is simply outstanding. She’s the exact definition of a people person, and I’m so glad she chose to stay with me rather than go with another event executor, Pierre, who was a total snake in the grass trying to steal her away from me last year. Pierre can go fuck himself.

The party is going to start in two hours. I feel confident that everything is going to go super smoothly. There hasn’t been a single issue. Yet. I’m not na?ve enough to think nothing at all will go wrong. Parties don’t go that way. Ever. It’s how the mishaps are handled that genuinely matters. And, literally, nothing throws me.

Unexpectedly, Alison appears beside me as I look out the floor-to-ceiling windows facing the water. “You look really great,” she says, and as I move my gaze from the water to her, I realize I need to take back what I just thought. Some things do throw me, and I’m learning the list starts and ends with Alison Grace.

“You picked it out.” My voice sort of snags in my throat, making it sound much more intimate than I intended.

“I have impressed even myself then.” She chuckles. She’s still in comfortable clothes, but her hair is in curlers, and her makeup has been done. “I do not look amazing yet.”

“You certainly don’t look awful. If someone had told me I would see you in curlers, I’d have smacked them and laughed in their face.”

Her smile is simply beautiful. “Wait until you see me later.”

“Oh?” I feel myself smiling back. “I honestly can’t wait.” I hear the words come out of my mouth and want to kick myself. Why am I flirting with her? Why, oh why? I shouldn’t be, and I know this. What is wrong with me?

“Did your staff arrive safely?”

I nod as I continue to berate myself mentally. “They’re all ready to go. I think Julie has been with River’s team for the past two hours.”

“Oh geez,” she says softly. She’s looking out the windows now, and I find myself studying her profile, the perfect way her nose slopes and the shape of her so-red lips. “She’s the best person for the job, hmm?” She doesn’t look at me when she asks the question, so I figure she’s trying to be professional.

“When I tell you I would trust her with my own life, I’m not kidding. And when it comes to you? She’ll take a bullet for you. I can guarantee that.”

“Why’s that?”

I scoff. “She’s a huge Alison Grace fan. Trust me. You’re in good hands with her. With my whole team, actually.”

“Including you?” She’s looking at me now, her eyes piercing. Their color and the way the light is shining on them, making them almost iridescent, has my hands aching.

The lump that has formed in my throat is ludicrous. I would bet money that she can see the outline in my esophagus. I swallow around it. “Especially me,” I reply with a voice that wasn’t supposed to be soft and gentle but without question came out that way. I feel like my brain is telling me one thing, and my heart is saying something completely different. It’s as if I am allowing myself to take these steps even though I know I shouldn’t. She’s already confirmed that the NDA states she won’t be trying anything with me. Maybe my subconscious is telling my brain to throw caution to the wind. To let whatever is going to happen happen and not worry about it.

“Why do I feel like I could trust you with my life?”

“Aside from the NDA, you mean?”

She laughs softly and places her hand on my arm. “Yes, aside from that.”

“I’m a really fantastic person.” I shrug, smile, and take in the feeling of her hand on my arm, her skin against my skin, her heat mingling with my heat. My brain is near short-circuit status. “And for some reason, I feel connected to you. In a weird way that I’m not sure how to handle, to be honest.”

“Remember when I said you are not an accident?”

“All too well.”

“I meant it. Me finding you, you being here, none of it is an accident. Keep that in mind, okay?”

“I need to know what you mean, Alison.” As soon as I say that, she moves her hand away and clenches her fist. I miss the sensation of her touch. “Please tell me.”

“I wish I could. Just remember everything I do is always with the best of intentions.” She turns and walks away from me, her pace quick, her strides long. I know better than to chase someone who is escaping a reality she has created. She wanted to drop that line and vanish, and boy, did she do it.

A chill races through my body when I force myself to stop staring after her. Let’s be real: I know, in my heart of hearts, that whatever is happening is simply a cocktail of excitement, intrigue, loneliness, shaken till cold, with a healthy shot of desire floated on top. It’s been way too long for me. And when I say “it,” I mean sex. I haven’t been with someone in over a year. This dry streak has been the longest one in my life. So that healthy shot of desire? Yeah, it has my body responding to the dash of flirting that’s going on. Hell, it might not actually even be flirting, and yet my body is responding. Truth of the matter is that I really need to get laid.

I’ve had a few people offer. One was a man I met in a bar about six months ago. I’ve pretty much sworn off men, though, so I declined. I should have accepted just to make sure I still work. A lady at Trader Joe’s slipped me her number on the back of her receipt too. I probably would have called her if her purchases had included at least one bottle of wine. Not that I’m opposed to being alcohol-free, but for me to engage in a random one-night stand, something additional needs to be present. Another offer was Julie, who I am not at all attracted to, but she’s sweet and kind, and the more we work together, the more I think I shouldn’t. It’ll ruin everything we’ve built. I trust her more than I trust anyone else on my team. Sleeping with her would be stupid. But, as she walks up to me, hands slipped into her pockets and bare, muscular arms flexed, I start to question my resolve.

“What are you thinking about over here?” she husks, and I shake my head. “Not gonna tell me, hmm?”

“Not even on a good day would I share what’s going on in my head. You know this.” I fold my arms across my chest and dig my short nails into the skin near my armpit to keep me grounded. “How was the meeting?”

“Good, good. I’m going to be very busy tonight, I fear.” She shrugs. “You doing okay? You seem on edge.” She nudges me with her shoulder. “More so than normal.”

I let out a puff of air in protest. “More so than normal? Please. I’m cool as a cucumber.”

Herpuff of air is louder and much more sarcastic. “Sure. And I’m straight.”

“I knew it. And here I thought we had a love connection,” I deadpan. Her smile leads to a tiny laugh before I add, “Thank you for doing this with me. I know we sort of danced around the idea of not working together so we could, y’know…”

“I’m not ruining our friendship. Or our working relationship.” Julie clears her throat. “We’d never work out. You’re way too high-strung for me. And I’d just rock your world so hard that you’d be smitten, and that is not a good look on anyone.”

I laugh as my shoulders relax. “Oh my god, Julie. You’re a trip, you know that?”

“But seriously,” she says as she turns me to face her. “You’re okay, though? You seem like you’re going through it right now.”

“Going through it, hmm?” I study her face, her blue eyes, her septum piercing. “You aren’t wrong. But I am managing. I promise.”

“If you need to chat, you know I’m always here for you.”

I nod, and she rubs my arms before she turns and heads back to River’s team, who are all dressed in black like they work for the freaking Secret Service. I’ve done high-level security events before, but damn, this one is next level.

“Roberta?” I hear my name on the headsets and answer immediately. “Can you please come to the bar area? We need your cocktail menu.”

“On my way.”

I hurry toward the bar, cursing myself for not printing the menu sooner, but I see that they do, in fact, have the menu. They’re just all staring at it with wide eyes.

“Are you all trying to give me a heart attack or what?” I say as I rush up to them.

“You came up with these?” Natasha asks with a grin on her face, her cheeks blushing. “These are intense.”

“Look,” I say as I snatch the paper from her hand, “this is what Ms. Grace requested. She said sexual. And I wasn’t going to shy away from that.”

“And you thought ‘Tie Me to the Bedpost’ was a good idea to include?”

“Has that ever been a bad idea, Nick? Really? In all your years?” I ask, and the evil grin that spreads across his lips is perfect. “That’s exactly what I thought.”

“I’m partial to the Fuck Me Against a Wallshot, truth be told,” Natasha says with a chuckle. “You know what I mean?”

“Oh, honey, I know exactly what you mean.” Ugh, it really has been too long.

“So, the Extra Slutty Martini, that’s just an extra-dirty Dirty Bird, right?” Natasha is reading the menu. “And the My Neck, My Back, Lick My Pussy and My Crack shot, essentially it’s a Red-Headed Slut with raspberry, cherry, and Citron vodka, right?”

“And the pineapple, orange, and cranberry juices. Don’t forget those. I worked hard on getting that one just right.”

“Rob, you really knocked it out of the park with this list.” Nick flips a shaker into his hand. “I’m gonna make the Forbidden and Drippingshot. You want one?” He eyes me, then Natasha. “Hmm? Come on, ladies.”

I roll my eyes. “What the hell? Hit me.” I watch him expertly toss the vodka, rum, and gin bottles and pour enough for three shots. The juices are next, cranberry and pineapple. Then the peach schnapps.

“And the jalape?o extract. You made this? When?” Nick asks with a laugh. “You’ve been here for one day.”

“I didn’t sleep. I snuck down to the kitchen and made it around three this morning.” I shrug. “I do my best work in the early morning.”

Natasha scoffs. “You are a maniac, my friend. This is going to be fucking fire.”

Nick shakes the concoction thoroughly before pouring it through a strainer, flawlessly into three shot glasses. He hands them to us. “To a night we’ll never forget.”

“And a night we’ll never discuss,” I add with a wink. We cheers, then tap the bar top with the glass before downing it. “Oh, Nick, that’s perfect.” The shot is delicious, and the slight scorch from the jalapeno extract at the end is precisely what I want to happen. “You two going to be okay tonight? I have no idea what kind of drinkers these people are.”

“You’re joking, right?” Natasha playfully brushes dirt off her shoulder. “We can handle anything.”

“Don’t get wasted, please. After the party, you can take stuff to your room, but during, I want you to be flawless.”

“Can I be rollin’? Y’know, on Molly?” Nick asks, and before I can get a word out, he says, “Rob, I’m joking. Calm down. Deep breaths. Everything is going to be fine.”

“You ass,” I whisper and shake my head. “We have one hour until the festivities begin. If you need me, you know how to reach me.” I tap my headset and walk away, taking deep breaths the entire time. I need to check on Timothy and Lucy, but I don’t have time. I need to do a final walk-through with River’s team, and when I turn the corner to the foyer, she’s waiting there for me with a very impatient look on her face. “I’m not late, am I?”

“No, no, I’m sorry. Not at all. Sometimes I have a real bad case of RBF.”

Resting Bitch Face. “Yeah, same.”

She chuckles. “Must be our demanding jobs, hmm? Is everything ready for tonight?”

“Absolutely. Julie is prepped and with your security team. Nick and Natasha have studied the drink menu, and Timothy and Lucy are with the caterer. Is there anything else you need from me before the event starts?”

River, in a move that completely shocks me, places her hand on my arm and slowly ushers me away from a few of her team members. “I actually wanted to have a conversation with you. I don’t want to shock you or make this at all uncomfortable, but…” She looks around as we move to a secluded corner. “Alison is a meticulous planner. She’s a mastermind honestly. It blows me away.”

“That’s what I’ve heard,” I reply quietly.

“She asked me to…” Her pause this time is accentuated by her pulling her shoulders back and taking a deep breath. “She’s interested in you. Getting to know you. I know it sounds weird and maybe out of place for me to be approaching you, but for someone who is so ridiculously famous, she’s actually a very private person. And, believe it or not, she’s timid and reserved when it comes to, well, when it comes to this.” She motions to me. “To asking people out.”

I feel my mouth slightly hanging open. “I’m sorry. Did I hear you correctly?”

She smiles and shows off her perfect teeth. “Yes, you heard correctly.”

“She’s out of her mind,” I say with a laugh and realize River is no longer smiling. I clear my throat. “I mean, um… That was so rude of me.” I shake my head. “Does she realize how much older I am than she is?”

“She likes older women.” River shrugs. “She’s been with younger ones?—”

“Yeah, that’s who all the rumors are about.”

River sighs a deep, heavy sigh before clenching her jaw. “See? It always gets out.” She scans the room before she focuses again on me. “Does her status worry you?”

“I mean, kind of?” I am having a hard time breathing. “River, I appreciate all of this, really, and I’m so happy to be here, but this is a lot of infor?—”

“Don’t answer now. Okay? See how the party goes.” River has her arms crossed, and she leans into my personal space. “Do you want my advice?”

“Sort of, yes.” I can’t look at her. I’m so beside myself that I can barely feel my knees, let alone turn my head to look anyone in the eyes.

“Get to know her tonight. She’ll be around. Aside from the fact that it’s her party, and it’ll be impossible for her to escape”—she chuckles—“she’s also super interested in you. If you feel one way or another, I’ll also be around. You can let me know. Or let her know.”

“Oh, sure,” I say with a huff. “‘Hey, Alison, let’s get to know each other.’ Just blurt it out. That sounds like a great plan.”

“Actually, she’s super into being upfront and honest, so that would mean the world to her.” River leans closer to me again. “She’s an amazing person, inside and out. I would never still be working for her if she was awful. I can promise you that.”

I open my mouth to respond, but she stops me with a hand in the air, and her other shoots up to her headset.

“Okay, I’ll be right there. Gotta go. Have fun tonight,” she says, and she takes off, leaving me to ponder this outrageous proposal.

* * *

An hour into the party, and it’s a literal who’s who of the entertainment industry. The masks are supposed to hide faces, but I’ve been around the block enough times to know who people are. I’ve been surprised by two of the attendees. The rest I sort of had pegged as falling somewhere on the queer spectrum, but when Jackson Blake and Ron McKnight walked in with their masquerade masks on, I absolutely took a double-take. And Flo Simpkins, who—I would never admit this out loud to anyone in a ten-mile radius of this mansion—is actually my favorite singer and songwriter, arrived with a woman. There are a couple of others I had an idea about, like Tawny Blake and Josiah Thompson. Both are young actors who’ve been together publicly for quite some time.

I’m not at all surprised by the others but didn’t really put together that they’re all family. Who knew?

Alison Grace did, obviously.

And speaking of Alison, I’ve managed to steer clear of her. When I saw her from across the room, I had to remind myself to take a breath. The dark blue, form-fitting halter dress she is wearing is hugging her in all the right places, and her masquerade mask matches perfectly. Her hair looks fantastic, so soft and luxurious. I can only imagine how it really feels. If I wanted to feel it, I guess I could, as long as I agree to get to know her.

I scoff at my inner monologue. What does that even mean? Get to know Alison Grace?

I’ve checked on my staff once, so I decide to make another round. Julie is neck-deep with security as they search purses and do metal detector sweeps. They’ve found nothing. Julie did say she heard one of the sharpshooters had taken down at least one drone. It’s insane the lengths paparazzi go to get pictures. How would they have even known about the event? So far, it’s been the most hush-hush party I’ve ever executed. River was right, though. Things always get out.

Nick and Natasha have been slinging drinks like the professionals they are. I’ve had a few of the attendees compliment them. It’s lovely when that happens. I feel like I’m doing something right when people are wowed.

After dinner, which of course went smoothly, the caterer thanks me. Four times. And all I can say is, “I told you everything would be fine.”

“I know, I know. But it’s Alison. And I didn’t want anything to go wrong,” she says softly over her well-deserved glass of red wine.

“Listen, I understand exactly what you mean. I would have never set you up for failure because that would have been a failure on my part. Get it?”

She nods, mouth full of wine.

“And I will never fail.” Timothy and Lucy come up to me, broad smiles on their faces. “Well done, you two.”

“Yes, my goodness, you two were amazing. Thank you so much,” Hannah says, tears in her eyes now. “I hate to admit things wouldn’t have gone as well with my staff, but…”

“No need to tell us how amazing we are,” Timothy says with a laugh, his arm around Lucy’s shoulders. “We’re going to make the rounds and see if anyone wants drinks from the bar. See you two in a while.”

“Holy cow,” Hannah whispers. “They’re not done yet?”

“Oh, hell no. They won’t be done until the last person leaves the party. It’s part of the contract.”

“Maybe I need to consider working for Elite.”

“I’ll pass on your contact info.” I nudge her playfully. “You can’t bring your staff, though. They sound like they suck.”

Her deep laugh is adorable. “Thank you. You’re not wrong.”

“Okay, I’m going to go check on my bartenders. Good job tonight.” I leave her standing there with her wine and a broad smile on her face. Her telling me I was right is literally all I ever want to hear. I know I’m right. I’m fucking good at my job, and so are my teammates.

After I leave the massive kitchen, I wind through the crowd at the bar. What in the world is going on? Why are they all looking?—

“Oh, Christ,” I whisper as I see the spectacle unfolding in front of me.

Lil’ Jay, the rapper I absolutely love—I know, I know, I’m a forty-five-year-old white woman, but I’ve been a rap fan since I was in high school and LL Cool J and Run-D.M.C. were on the scene—has a microphone and is free-styling while the DJ spins a beat. Nick and Natasha flip bottles back and forth to each other like they were separated at birth. It’s not necessarily a bad scene, and they’re doing a phenomenal job. They both said they’d been working on their skills ever since they I made them watch Tom Cruise in Cocktail. I had no idea they were serious, though, and that they were going to bust said skills out at this party. I glance around at the attendees. They’re all laughing and smiling and rooting for Lil’ Jay and the bartenders. That’s a good sign. My first thought was that this isn’t that kind of party Alison wanted to unfold.

“All right, yo, give it up for these fantastic bartenders,” Lil’ Jay says as he starts clapping. “Y’all are fucking awesome, man. Great job.” He gives both of them high fives while he leans over the bar. “You’re hired for my next party. For real, though.”

Maybe we’ll get another job out of that display? I mean, I’ll take all the work I can get if it means retiring earlier. This life has its perks, for sure, but I’m exhausted. And handling all the stress so far for this party has only added to my exhaustion.

“So that was amazing,” Alison says from behind me. She’s so incredibly close that I could feel her breath when she spoke. I look over my shoulder at her. She’s no longer wearing her mask. It’s dangling from her wrist as she holds a drink up to her lips. Her eyes find mine, and my stomach bottoms out.

“They’re pretty great,” I reply.

“You’re pretty great,” she says quietly, in that lower register I heard on the plane. Chills erupt all over my body. “This party has been everything I wanted.”

“It’s not over yet,” I start. “Is it?”

And that’s when I feel her hand brush against my ass.

“River spoke to me.” I don’t know why I blurt that out, but the mixture of embarrassment and hope that combines on her face has me wondering why I’d ever consider saying no to this woman. It’s shocking that someone like her—someone famous, beautiful, wealthy—can feel embarrassed. These are the moments, though, these right here, that make her so normal that it freaks me out. She’s not Alison Grace, international pop megastar right now. She’s Alison Grace, adorable mess who is trying so hard to figure herself out that she is hitting on a woman who is way too old for her. “You’re beautiful,” I hear myself say to her. “And I’m honored.”

“But?” She sips her drink. The color suggests she’s had them make her a full-sized Forbidden and Dripping. “Because there’s gotta be a but.”

“No but,” I whisper. It’s my turn to feel embarrassed, but for me, all it does is remind me how much more normal I am than she could ever hope to be. “You realize I could be your mother.”

“Why do you think that would be a problem?”

I let out a small laugh. She’s standing so close now that she’s practically pressed against my back. “It doesn’t bother you?”

“What?”

“My age?”

“Roberta,” she breathes out, and holy fucking Christ, my name rolling off her tongue like that sounds so sensual, so filled with desire that I have to mentally brace myself, make sure I’m on my feet because I’m pretty sure I’m about to fall over. “All I see when I look at you is someone I want so badly to get to know.”

“That’s all, hmm?” I turn myself closer toward her, brushing my tricep against her breasts as I do. It was supposed to be a smooth move, but all it did was cause my already heightened libido to skyrocket. “You just… want to get to know me?”

Her left eyebrow arches, a sly smile on her full, red lips. “Among other things,” she says before she takes a sip of her drink.

I can’t handle this conversation. My knees are weak. My panties are quickly becoming soaked. And I’m in charge of this party. I’m two seconds away from pulling this woman into a closet and fucking her senseless. I’ve got to get a hold of whatever is happening inside me. “How’s the drink?”

“Tastes just like us.” She sips again. “You’re forbidden. And I’m, well…” Her voice trails off and she rolls her lips together. “It’s delicious.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“You’re not wrong.”

I somehow find a way to tear my gaze away from her and look back at the bar. Nick and Natasha are still putting on a show, but they’re also making drinks, so I convince myself to just let them have fun. They’re doing their jobs. They’re creating an experience, and that’s one of the mottos I’ve always lived by when it comes to my job at Elite.

“What happens when you realize I’m not at all who you think I am?” I look again at her, and she’s looking right at me, into my eyes—goddamn, into my soul. My whole world seems to skip a beat. As if someone bumped into a record player.

“I guess I’d just have to marry you then.”

“No, no, I mean”—I let out a breathy chuckle—“what if you don’t like the person you discover?”

Her soft smile is accompanied by her hand on my hip. “I know, and I’m saying that I think I’m going to like you even more than I’m bargaining for.”

“Alison.” Her name comes out of me in a whisper. “You know this won’t be what you’re wanting.”

She stops my motioning to myself with a gentle touch to my forearm. Her skin is cold now from holding her drink. But before she can get a word out, an intense bolt of lightning illuminates the entire darkened room, and a loud clap of thunder follows. It’s then that I realize that my favorite weatherman was wrong. The storm has materialized, and I can barely see out the windows behind us.

“Shit,” I whisper. “We’d better pray it doesn’t get much—” Another bolt of lightning strikes, and this time, I see it hit the water in the distance. “Good lord.”

Alison shrugs. “Oh well, everyone can hunker down here for the night. No need to worry. If the power goes out, we have a generator.”

I blink a few times, a smile on my face. “You’re maybe the calmest person I know.”

“I’m also drunk,” she says with a laugh. “Could be part of the reason. And maybe slightly high.”

“Oh my god.” I shake my head as I join her laughter. “You’re having a good time, aren’t you?”

“One of the best nights of my life.”

“Why don’t you have someone special here for yourself, hmm?” I study her after I ask the question. She is still looking right into my eyes. I am on edge with anticipation. I want her to know so badly that I’m holding my breath.

She finally looks away and drinks the rest of the liquor in her martini glass. The way her deep red lips press against the glass has me feeling all sorts of ways. “You think I don’t have someone special here?” she asks while looking out across the party. Couples are slow-dancing to Joe’s “I Wanna Know,” and damn, do I ever want to know what she’s getting at right now. “How interesting.”

I can’t help the small chuckle. “You are such an enigma.”

And that’s when the brightest lightning I have ever seen strikes the Earth, followed by the loudest, booming clap of thunder. The electricity flickers, and all the lights go out, leaving us in tranquil darkness. My ear fills with loud static, confirming that my earpiece is malfunctioning. Communication with my team is not going to happen now. Fantastic. My first instinct isn’t to spring into action, shockingly enough. I reach out and find Alison standing next to me.

“Are you okay?” I sound frantic.

“I’m good,” she says. Her voice is close to me, and when lightning strikes again, I see that she’s standing even closer than before. “Are you?”

“Yeah. I’m going to go find the lead security officer. I’ll be back.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“Alison—”

“It’s my party, Roberta. I’m coming with you.” She heads in the direction of the kitchen. I stop her by gently grabbing the crook of her left arm.

“This way. Plans changed.” I pull her toward me, and we walk to the butler’s kitchen, where the entire security team has gathered, except Julie, whom they seemingly trust because they’ve allowed her to handle the front entrance all by herself. A tiny flame of pride flickers inside my chest.

“Okay, people, next steps are flashlights and candles while we get the generator started. Who pulled the emergency supplies from the garage like instructed?” The three giant men in front of me, illuminated by my small penlight, which I always carry on me for situations just like this one, all stare back dumbfounded. “None of you did as I asked?”

“Ms. Brown, I thought he was doing it,” one of them says as he points.

“And I thought he was going to.” The middle guy is pointing to the one at the end.

“And I didn’t do it. That’s my bad. I didn’t think a storm was going to happen.”

“The Wish version of The Three Stooges,” I mutter. Alison must have heard me because she stifles a giggle. “Okay, one of you needs to go now, please.”

“Matt, do you think you can handle it?” Alison’s tone of voice is so sweet; meanwhile, I want to rip their throats out. Thank goodness they aren’t on my team, or I would be even more furious.

“Sure thing, Ms. Grace.” The one called Matt springs into action and heads toward the exit.

The other two stand still, looking at me with blank faces.

“You two get the generator going,” I say.

“That I can handle,” one of them says. “C’mon, Stan, let’s go.”

I thank them as they leave, then turn to Alison. “Do you have some flashlights we can use until Matt gets back?”

She nods, and I follow her to a massive, heavy metal door. “Through here,” she says and opens it, revealing a huge room. We step inside, and the door squeaks as it swings closed behind us with a loud, heavy thud. It’s pitch-black now, so I send up a quick prayer that my penlight’s battery doesn’t crap out on me. “We lost power one other time when a nor’easter came in. It completely knocked out the lines for two days. That’s when I requested a generator.” She’s searching while I shine the light on the shelves for her. “Ahh, here we go. Flashlights, batteries, and candles. Perfect.” She goes to pull down the box, but I hand over my light before I do it for her.

“Okay, can you get us out of here now?” My voice sounds shaky. I’m immediately irritated with my inability to not give myself away.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m claustrophobic.” Oh god, my heart is racing. Shit, shit, shit.

“Right, let’s go then,” she says while reaching for the door handle. It rattles once, twice, three times before I finally ask, “What’s the problem?”

“Umm… the door is stuck. Goddammit.” She is angry. I can hear it in her voice. “River swore to me they fixed this door. Don’t worry, it’s going to be okay.”

“Alison.” I shrug off the hand she’s just placed on my shoulder. “Are you serious?”

She shakes the handle again, and nothing but rattling echoes. “I wouldn’t lie to you about this.”

“Fuck,” I whisper. I set the box on the floor and fumble through it until I come up with a flashlight. I flick it on and shine it everywhere. “What the hell is this place?”

“My safe room,” she says quietly. “I had one installed just in case.” She groans and shines my penlight onto the panel on the wall. “Without power, the signals are real glitchy, which was something else River said she would have fixed. Once the generator is up and running I’ll get us out of here. Don’t worry.”

My entire body is going rigid. My hands are tingling. My feet. My knees. Oh god. I am about to have a panic attack. I’m almost glad the lights aren’t on because I guarantee I’m as white as Casper the Ghost, and that is not a good look for anyone, especially me. As carefully as possible, I back myself against an empty spot on the wall and slowly slide down it, breathing as slowly as I can the entire time. If I don’t head this off at the pass, she’ll absolutely discover one of the many reasons I’m not at all what she bargained for. My eyes slide closed, I lick my lips, and I hold my breath for four counts, then breathe it out for seven, breathe in for eight. My therapist, god love her, taught me this technique, and so far, it’s helped about half the time.

The other half? I don’t want to talk about it.

“Do you need me to do anything?”

“Just get… us… out of… here…” I do the same breathing technique again, my eyes still closed, my brain still focused on not freaking out. “Please.” I hear her slide down the wall beside me, hear her calmly breathing. After about five minutes of me self-soothing and her being completely silent, I am starting to feel better. Holy shit, it may have worked. Wow. I peek at her. Thankfully, I’m able to see her in the light being thrown from the flashlight. “Thank you for not freaking out with me.”

“Don’t worry.” She leans her head back against the wall. “I’ve had my fair share of panic attacks. I know when a person needs someone and when they just, well, don’t.”

Her being no stranger to anxiety and panic attacks surprises me. It shouldn’t, though. If I’ve learned anything since yesterday at four in the afternoon, it’s that Alison Grace is just like everyone else. A little shy, a little awkward, and filled to the brim with normal. “Well, thank you.” I don’t know why I do it, but I reach over and take her right hand in my left. I intertwine our fingers, and she squeezes me. The feeling has returned to my extremities, so I feel it just fine.

She lets out a small “Hmm…” followed by a tiny giggle.

“What?”

“I bet I know something that would take your mind off of things.” Her voice sounds so different when it’s sheltered from prying eyes and eager ears.

My heartbeat picks up speed. “Please don’t say an icebreaker.”

And in one fluid motion, she leans into me and places her lips on mine. A moan inadvertently comes from deep within my soul, reverberates against her lips, and all it does is spur her—and me—on. She turns slightly toward me, her hands now on my face, pulling me closer, her tongue dipping into my mouth with the smooth finesse and unyielding yearning I had a feeling was buried beneath the misplaced embarrassment and uncertainty. Her fingers press into the base of my skull before she moves them up into my hair. I want to ask how she knows that’s the spot. Right there. That’s all anyone has to do to me, and I’ll be putty in their hands. And here she is, doing it, and doing it perfectly. Fingertips, nails lightly pressing into the flesh, thumbs near my ears, I just… My synapses are firing at an impressive speed but I’m still having a hard time coming up with a thought other than, holy fucking shit.

“You are a phenomenal kisser,” she says against my lips between kisses and licks.

“I’ve had many years of practice.” My words are muffled by her mouth, though, before she moves, hikes her skirt up her thighs, and straddles me. I place my hands on her sides, on the bare skin not covered by the cropped top of the dress and the start of the skirt, and she’s so warm. Her skin is as soft as feathers, and there’s half a second when I remember I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be kissing Alison Grace. I shouldn’t be allowing her to straddle me. I shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t. But goddammit, for a multitude of reasons, including how fucking horny I am and how much I’ve needed release, I couldn’t say no even if I wanted to. Couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t. And honestly, wouldn’t.

“I can’t believe you thought I didn’t have anyone special here,” she says after she’s kissed her way to my ear.

I’d be lying if I said what she just husked into my ear didn’t make me melt into a giant puddle on the floor of the safe room. “Alison…”

“I told you I did my research. And you were the someone special I wanted at my party.”

“How, though? How did you know anything about me? I’m no one.”

She pulls away from me, her brow furrowed. “Don’t say that. You’re not no one.” She’s studying me, her eyes moving over my facial features. “You don’t remember, do you?”

“Remember what?”

Her lips part slightly before she presses them together, seemingly gathering whatever it is she’s going to say to me. “I kept thinking you were playing a role, like you signed an NDA for that party, so you didn’t want to go against it. But you…” Her shoulders have slumped the tiniest of amounts, and it makes my throat ache. Gone is the in-control Alison who took charge; in her place is the Alison who must have existed before all of this, unsure of herself, unsure of her command, unsure of her control. “I don’t know why I thought you would have remembered. That was dumb of me.”

“Alison, wait, what… what are you talking about? I would have remembered meeting you before, so that can’t be it. I would have never forgotten meeting you. Do you hear me?”

A small, resigned smile is on her lips. “No, we didn’t meet, but I was at the party she threw. It was years ago, right before I released the album The Road Home and you… you were there. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I was…” Her voice fades as a deep pink creeps up her neck and permeates the makeup on her cheeks. “I never got the chance to talk to you that night. I wanted to, but you, you left early.”

“That was the night,” I start, but my voice has snagged on the emotion the truth has caused to bubble into my throat. She’s talking about the night my last relationship ended… The night we fought in the bathroom because I was done and she was angry and I wasn’t going to let her guilt me into staying like she’d done every single time before. I was furious with her, but I was even more furious with myself for allowing it to get to the point it had. She is why I keep myself guarded. She is why I don’t get mixed up with clients any longer. It’s not because the men get handsy and don’t know how to take no for an answer, although that is undoubtedly a good reason on paper. It’s because she broke me. And in order to put myself back together, I had to leave. I had to walk out in the middle of an event, something I swore I would never do.

“It’s so much more complicated than me not knowing you were there, Alison.” My voice sounds far away, as if I’m not the one saying it.

“Was that when it ended?”

I pull a breath in as I gather my ability to answer her question. I nod slowly, the entire time mentally screaming at the tears forming in my eyes to get the fuck out of here. I am not going to cry in front of her. Not now and hopefully not ever. “It was not my finest hour. I don’t even remember how I got home. I’m sorry, I am, for not remembering?—”

“Don’t.” She places her hands on my face. “I had no idea.”

“How could you have?”

Her hands are still so warm. She feels miraculous, like a salve for the wound that has unfortunately been reopened, and when she smooths her thumbs over my cheeks, she says, “Maybe I should be happy you don’t remember I was there.”

“Why’s that?”

“I was with one of the many beards.”

“I can confirm that you are much more striking when those men aren’t dulling your shine.”

“Maybe one day I’ll stop trying to please everyone and please myself.” She leans down and kisses me. “This is a good start.” She grinds her hips into me. I practically lose control right then and there. I take a chance and move my hands over her ass, down her thighs, to the slit in her skirt, and I’m carefully pulling it up further when I realize?—

Holy motherfucking shit. She’s not wearing panties. She’s not wearing panties.

Alison Grace is straddling me, and she’s not wearing panties.

“Are you kidding me?” My question makes her smile against my lips.

“What? I didn’t want panty lines,” she answers coyly.

“Oh? That’s the only reason?”

“Well, that, and…” She rolls her hips against me again. “I wanted it to be easy for you to fuck me.”

Jesus Christ. I bite down on her lip before I ask, “You want me to fuck you, hmm?” She nods and takes my right hand and slowly moves it to her very warm center. She presses me against her. She wasn’t wrong when she said I was forbidden and she was, y’know, dripping, because she absolutely is. How she was able to not wear panties, I’ll never know. I’m impressed, that’s for damn sure.

“I’ve wanted you to fuck me since the first moment I saw you.” She moans when I slide my fingers through her wetness and dip my middle finger inside of her with ease. “Holy shit.” She rolls against me. “You feel incredible inside me.”

I push two fingers in, and her breath catches. She presses down against my hand. I want to lay her down on the floor so I can be unimpeded by my wrist’s weird angle, but she’s moving her hips in such a way that stopping her would be a crime. She leans her head back and presses her chest forward, and I hear myself whisper, “Oh my fucking god.”

“Is everything okay?”

I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of me. “Everything is fucking perfect.”

“Good,” she says softly. “I don’t know what you’re doing…” She’s breathless. “But whatever it is, don’t stop.”

Well, there goes my plan to move her to the floor. I suffer through the cramp in my arm and keep my movements constant until all of a sudden, she tenses around me. Every convulsion her muscles have, I feel it. In her calves, in her thighs, in her pussy, and it makes me want to pinch myself. My fingers are inside of Alison Grace. I’m the luckiest human being on the face of the planet. And I’m also probably the dumbest. Nothing, literally nothing, good is going to come of this. I’m going to get my heart broken. But I don’t care. I’ll handle it when it happens.

When… The word has my heart in a vise.

“Roberta,” she whispers as she bends down to kiss me. Her tongue slips into my mouth. She tastes like happiness and Tic Tacs. “I’m never going to recover from you.”

“No? Why’s that?”

The smile on her lips. My god, it takes my breath away. “Because you are so much more important than you realize. I wouldn’t risk everything if you weren’t.”

My chest clenches. “I would like to unpack all this so-called research you’ve done,” I say, “but before that happens… can I please get my mouth on you?”

She leans her head back and laughs. My entire body erupts in chills.

“By all means,” she says, still laughing as she moves from my lap. “You want me on the floor or?—”

And the lights flicker and go back on. “Dammit.”

“See?” She holds her hand out after she adjusts her skirt. “I told you I could distract you.”

I stand with her assistance. She brushes her hand over my abdomen, down the front of my pants, before she cups my center. “Don’t tease me,” I beg.

“You’re in my bedroom tonight. You hear me?”

I can’t hold myself back. I lunge at her and have her backed into the wall opposite us in an instant. I kiss her like I’ve never kissed another person in my entire life. I want her to remember this. I want to remember this, the moment when I decide to let go and follow my heart. Or maybe I’m following my vagina. Either way, I’m not stopping. I don’t know what has happened to me between signing that NDA and now, but I’m so all in that it’d make a Vegas pit boss nervous.

A pounding on the door makes me stop. She starts to laugh, and so do I when I lean my forehead against hers, both of us panting from the kiss.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she says.

“A resounding yes.”

We back away from each other. She reaches forward and wipes my bottom lip. “My lip stain is all over you.”

“Great, they’ll know what we were doing then.”

She shrugs. “Oh well.”

I wipe my lips with my thumb. “Better?” I ask, then reach over and adjust her top. “We both look guilty, by the way.”

She stills my hand with hers. “I can’t wait for everyone to leave.”

And the door swings open, revealing a very relieved River, as well as my staff, who all seem just as relieved. “What the hell are you two doing in here?” River asks, the annoyance hanging from her words like a soaked parka. “Is the door still broken?”

Alison glares at her.

“It was supposed to be fixed. Why didn’t you use the comms to call for help?”

“Because the power was out,” Alison answers.

“Oh.” River’s grimace says it all. “It’s not fixed then is what you’re saying.”

“No, River, it’s not fixed.” She nudges me.

“Hmph.” Her hands fall from her hips. “Well, I apologize.”

Alison shakes her head, a smile on her very used lips. “It’s fine.”

“Oh my goodness,” Natasha says as she rushes into the room and throws her arms around me. “We were so worried about you!” She then whispers in my ear, “You were making out with her, weren’t you? Oh my god.” She pulls away, hands on my shoulders. “Thank god you’re okay.”

Nick’s hand shoots in the air, his thumb up. “You good, Rob?”

“I’m good. No worries.”

“We all know how much you hate small, tight spaces,” Timothy says, the entire time trying to hold back his laughter. I’m going to fire him. I swear.

“Okay, everyone back to work, please,” I say after I emerge from the room behind Alison. She heads into the main living area where the party had been bumping before. The music is starting again. I check my watch. We were in there for twenty minutes, though it felt like two days. I don’t know how to feel about that.

“You little slut,” Lucy says under her breath. “How was it?”

“Stop.” I put my hand on her bicep. “Nothing happened.”

“Is that why you’re wearing her lipstick?” Lucy’s question is asked with literally no tone, and her delivery has me laughing.

“That bad, hmm?”

“Go to the bathroom before you try to convince anyone else you did nothing.” She pats me gently on the back and winks. “You know I love you, which is why I’m looking out for you.”

“I know, I know. Thank you.” I do exactly as she has suggested and head straight toward the bathroom. The first thing I see is that there is no way everyone who saw us didn’t immediately know we were making out in there. Lip stain my ass. I have it all over me. My lips, my cheeks, my neck, my chest. And wiping it off is only making it smear worse. Great. I’m in over my head with this one. Hell, I’m over my head with almost every single thing that has happened tonight. And here I thought nothing could throw me. Nothing could derail my expert party execution skills.

I was so wrong.

I never thought being wrong would feel this good, though.

* * *

The second her bedroom door closes behind us, I feel the nerves that should have been present this entire time spring to life inside my chest. Her room is gigantic. There’s a sitting area complete with two chairs, an ottoman, and a table near French doors that must lead out to a balcony. While the rest of the house felt like she decorated it, this room truly feels like her space. The walls of the room are white, but the warm ambiance from the lighting is creating a lovely glow. She has an entire collage of picture frames of all different sizes on one of the walls. I meander toward it as she disappears into the closet. The pictures are of her through the years, her family, her friends, her entire life, and just like everything else that has happened, it pulls me in even deeper.

It’s no longer surprising to me as much as it’s worrisome. The next thought in my head after the one where I fall into bed with her is that I’m going to get hurt by all this. Not because I don’t know how to guard my heart, but because I’m not that great at one-night stands. I’m actually horrible at them. I’ve tried. Oh, how I’ve tried. But I always end up on the messy end of a poorly constructed relationship. It’s one of the reasons why I’ve been so happy simply being single. Sure, it”s been a dry spell, but at least I’m not trying to figure out how to get out of something. Or worse, figuring out how to not get my heart hurt.

“You doing okay?” she asks from inside her closet across the room. “You’ve gone quiet.”

“Yeah, I’m doing okay,” I answer, continuing to take in all the different pictures, hairstyles, clothing, people, some of them probably lovers. “Just wondering when the other shoe is going to drop,” I say softly so she can’t hear me. Because I know it’s going to. It has to.

“So,” she says. “You should probably turn around.”

I do as she has requested, and when my eyes land on her, my jaw drops. She’s in lingerie. My god. Her body is flawless. And the one-piece, sheer, black bodysuit is enough to give me a heart attack. Thank god my doctor says I’m healthy as a horse.

“Whoa,” I whisper.

“Too much?” Her cheeks fill with that same pink from earlier, when I had no idea where this night was going and every idea of where I hoped it would.

“Good god, no. You look phenomenal.” I start to walk toward her at the same time as she takes a hesitant step in my direction. “I mean, you’re not going to be in it for very long.”

“No?” She runs her fingers along the edge near her cleavage. I swallow around the lump in my throat as she moves her hair over her shoulder. When we finally intersect, I pull her into me immediately. There’s no holding back now. If I’m right and I only have a limited amount of time with her, I’m not going to waste a single second. I pull her body against mine, grip her bare ass, because, of course, the lingerie is a thong. She moans into my mouth when I do that. Why are the vibrations caused by a moan so fucking hot? It’s intense and erotic and exhilarating.

“We need to get this off of you,” she says. She pushes my suspenders down my arms, untucks the tight, black tank top, and yanks it up and over my head in one fluid motion. She’s quick. I like it. She eyes my breasts. The black lace bra I’m wearing is my favorite, and pride simmers inside me. She cups my breasts with her hands, her thumb sliding back and forth over my already erect nipples. “You are so sexy.” The deepness of her voice shoots straight to my center. Maybe for the first time ever, I don’t have a hard time believing what she’s just said. There’s an honesty in her tone that I am having a hard time not trusting. Also, knowing that she could have had literally anyone in that room and she chose me? I must be doing something right.

I drag my fingernails up the small of her back, trace the edge of the sheer material, and run them across her shoulders, leaving chill bumps in their wake. I lean forward and place a kiss above where her heart resides.

“Can you hear it?”

I smile against her skin. “Hmm?”

“My heart.” She lets out a nervous giggle. “You’re doing that to it.”

“What am I doing?” I kiss the spot again and breathe in the scent of her skin.

“Making it beat.” Her words are so soft, so dainty, that I have to look up at her.

“Alison,” I whisper.

“It’s been so long, Roberta.” She shrugs, and her eyes have filled with tears. “I’ve been so closed off and incapable of, well, anything. And then you… I don’t know. You sort of came out of nowhere. And now you’re standing in front of me, and I’m stuck between being scared of myself and my inability to let something go and…” Her voice as it trails off has my entire body on edge. “…and being so excited that you took the job, that you’re here, that you’re not afraid of me.”

“I could never be afraid of you.” I smile. “You are not scary.”

“But I threw this whole party, planned all of this, to get you here.”

“Are you trying to make me not want to do this?” I chuckle as I start to lightly pull at the straps of the lingerie. “Because that seems wildly ill-advised. A few words of advice? Don’t sabotage this, Alison.”

She breathes out a shaky breath. A tear escapes and rolls down her cheek. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I had no idea I was going to like you this much.”

“Don’t apologize for that.” I lean in to kiss her. I slide the lingerie down until I feel the tension lessen over her breasts. “But don’t forget, you know nothing about me.” I move my hands to her breasts and massage each one. She leans her head back and moans, exposing her amazing neck. I run my tongue from her chin down to the small hollow where her neck and chest meet. When I put my mouth on her left breast, she pushes her hands into my hair and holds it back from my face.

“I love your hair, but I really want to see this.”

I glance up at her right as she licks her full lips. I have zero self-control because I immediately get sidetracked and end up kissing her. I want her lips on mine. I want to taste her saliva and feel her tongue. I cannot describe how much I love kissing this woman. My hands make quick work of sliding that damn bodysuit the rest of the way down her torso. “I need this off of you now.” I kneel in front of her and help her step out of it after I’ve slid it over her ass. God, her body. I can’t help but admire her, completely naked in front of me. “Wow.” As I reach forward, my hand is shaking, and I realize the nerves are back. Alison Grace is naked in front of me. She’s standing there, completely exposed, vulnerable, and sexy as fucking hell, and I’m here for it. I’m the one who’s going to take her to bed. I’m the one who’s going to fuck her until she screams my name. I’m the one who’s going to hold her afterward. “Wow. You’re so beautiful.”

“Roberta…” She places her hands on my face as I stare up at her. “Stand up and take me to bed, please.”

Who am I to argue? I do exactly as she’s commanded. I stand, lunge at her, capture her lips in mine, and start walking her to the bed. Her fingers make quick work of unsnapping my bra and discarding it before her hands are on the waistband of my pants, unbuttoning, unzipping, and pushing them over my ass with a ferocity.

“Take these off,” she says against my lips, yanking at my pants and panties. “Right now.” As quickly as I can, I pull them off and toss them over my shoulder. She’s at the end of the bed now, so I guide her to the edge and have her sit. She spreads her legs, revealing her very wet center. When I look up at her, she arches her left eyebrow suggestively. “See anything you like?”

“Jesus fucking Christ…” My movements feel desperate as I leap head first into all of this with her. One hand on her left breast, my mouth on her wetness, my tongue flicking her clit, her feet on my shoulders… it’s incredible. Everything about her… She tastes fantastic. And I plan on making sure she is so pleased by this that she never thinks of another person for the rest of her life. I move my other hand, lick two fingers, and push them gently inside of her. Her hips come off the bed, and the moan she releases makes my own wetness increase. She comes quickly like this, two fingers thrusting, my mouth on her clit.

“Roberta, oh my god!” Her hips buck into me, and I have to remove my fingers and hold her thighs as I keep flicking, keep licking, keep going until she’s coming again. I don’t stop until she pushes on my head and begs me to stop.

“What the hell?” She’s breathless as she lifts her head from the bed and looks down at me. “What did you do to me?”

I smile. “Want me to keep going?”

“I don’t know if I can?—”

I don’t let her finish as I push my fingers back into her.

“Holy fuck,” she says, her voice so low, so sexy. The moan I elicited from her practically makes me come. I move up her body as I pull out and push in as gently as possible. Hurting her isn’t an option, but I know I can get her to come again.

I kiss her jawline, her chin, as I keep pushing. “Would it help if I did this…?” I pull my fingers out and start to rub her clit. And within seconds, she’s coming again. I slide my fingers back inside of her so I can feel her muscles convulse.

“I’m going to come again if you just do that a little more.” Her suggestion is much appreciated, so I keep going. She isn’t wrong. She starts coming again, and she literally comes all over my hand. She yelps when I pull my hand out, completely covered in her, and she covers her face with her hands. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Her whispers are muffled by her hands.

“Alison, it’s really okay.”

“That is so embarrassing.”

“Holy shit, no, it is not.” I move her hands from her face. “That is the fucking hottest thing that has ever happened to me.”

“I have never…” She shakes her head. “Ever before.”

“I am honored.” I lean down and kiss her, move so this time I can straddle her.

“You’re amazing.” She kisses me again and again. “So amazing.”

“You’re the one who’s amazing.” Whispering those words against her lips is so fantastic. I literally never thought this would happen. Her hands are on my breasts now, and my focus is shot. She knows what she’s doing, and it feels fucking incredible. I break from our kiss and moan when she pulls lightly on each nipple.

“I’m a boob girl,” she whispers against my lips.

“Well, I love this, so keep going.”

She chuckles, guides me to lean forward, and lifts her head so she can suck on my nipples. I am dead. This is… wow… this is everything I want. I don’t even need to be fucked. Just suck on my nipples. All night long.

I mean, obviously, I definitely want to be fucked. I’m not an idiot. I don’t know what it is, though, but goddamn, I love it so much.

“I know this is going to sound strange,” I say as she continues lavishing my breasts with attention, “but I could literally come just from this.”

She pauses. “Oh?” And then she starts sucking on one nipple, pinching the other, and that’s it. My orgasm happens without me even realizing it’s coming.

I arch my back as her name comes out of my mouth. “Holy shit, Alison,” I say. “What are you doing to me?”

“I’m showing you how much I want to get to know you,” she says into my cleavage.

I can’t help but let out a laugh as I sit up and look down at her. “You are hilarious.”

“I have the weirdest question for you…”

“What’s that?” I am straddling her, and something about being on top of Alison Grace has me feeling all sorts of ways.

“Would you let me fuck you with a strap-on?”

I am positive my shocked expression isn’t hidden at all. “Um, absolutely, yes. Without question.”

“Seriously?” She props herself up with her elbows. Her breasts look amazing like this. I want to get my mouth on them again so badly.

“Yes, yes, yes. Do you actually have one?”

Her mischievous smile is the only answer I need. I move off of her, and she moves off the bed and is across the room, rummaging in the closet like a flash. “So, I’m going to be very honest with you,” she says from inside its depths. “I bought this and have never used it.” She laughs. “Oh my god. I’ve only tried it on once and it just… I don’t know. It sort of freaked me out.”

“The look of it?” I ask her while she’s still hidden.

“No, like wielding this much power?” She laughs again. “I know that sounds so stupid.”

“No, it really doesn’t.”

“I just…” She appears in the doorway of the closet wearing the harness with a purple dildo. She motions to it. “I look pretty fucking hot with it on, right?”

My mouth has gone completely dry. All I can do is stare at her as she leans her backside against the doorframe.

She looks over at me as she wraps her hand around the shaft of the dildo. “I feel so powerful.”

“You look powerful,” I manage to croak out.

She starts to walk toward me. I can’t take my eyes from the purple, which is bobbing as she walks. I’ve had sex with men before, but have never found a penis to be attractive. They’re just there, and if the guy knows how to use it, it feels pretty good. But Alison with that fucking strap? Her gorgeous hair falling in waves over her shoulders, her makeup smeared in all the best ways, her perfect breasts, her erect nipples. Yeah, I’m going to combust. “Have you…” Suddenly, as she asks that question, the powerful melts into endearing and all I want to do is hug her.

“I have.”

“So you?—”

“Can guide you, yes.”

“I mean, I’ve had sex with men.” Her laugh at the end suggests she’s near a freakout.

“I know.” I smile. “Alison?”

“Yes?” The hope in her eyes is so breathtaking.

“Come fuck me right now, please,” I say with way more hunger than I thought I had. Her face lights up as she stands at the end of the bed in front of me. I move myself back on the mattress, and she climbs over to me. Her breasts look so amazing… I just—how is this even happening? “We need to…” I reach down, coat my fingers with my wetness, and reach out to touch the dildo. “Do you want me from behind?”

“Jesus,” she whispers. “Is that… what you want?”

“I mean, I enjoy it that way.”

“Then yes.”

I turn around on the bed, bend over so I’m on my hands and knees, and take a deep breath.

“Okay, so, just go slow.” I hear her take a deep breath, and then her cool hands are touching my ass. Then one of her fingers, two of her fingers, dip inside of me. Honestly, I could just have her do this… but the idea of her fucking me with a strap is very, very, very appealing. The feeling of the tip presses against my wetness before she lightly pushes into me. She pulls out, then pushes in again. Slowly. Covering it with my wetness. “Seems like you’ve got the hang of this,” I say as I look over my shoulder at her.

“You’re sure?”

“God, yes.” I breathe in when I feel her push deeper into me. “Is that all of it?”

“Almost.” She pulls out once more and very slowly goes inside of me again. “Now it is. Does that feel okay?”

“It feels incredible,” I answer as she starts to pump into me. I’m so wet that the dildo is gliding with ease. She’s hitting my G-spot at this angle, so I know it’s not going to take long for me to have another orgasm. She puts her hands on my hips and thrusts into me, then pushes me away, then thrusts into me again. “Fuck,” I whisper. “You’re good at this for a beginner.”

She chuckles as she keeps thrusting. “How normal is it for this to be hitting me in the right spot too?” Her question is breathless, and I know exactly what she’s talking about.

“You mean you want to come too?”

“Yes,” she says with a laugh. “Holy shit.”

“Keep going. Harder if you can.” She does as I’ve instructed and starts thrusting harder. I’m so impressed with her. She’s doing everything perfectly.

“Roberta,” she whispers.

“God, Alison, keep going. Faster, please.” As soon as she picks up speed, that’s when it happens. My orgasm slams so hard into me. At the very same time, I feel her nails dig into my hips. “Are you?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” she says shakily, then lets out a small laugh. After two orgasms have hit me, I can’t take anymore. I pull away from her, and the dildo slides out of me. I collapse onto the bed, and she does the same next to me. I look over at her, her bare breasts moving up and down with her breathing, the dildo glistening. She looks over at me, and a laugh bubbles out of her. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, that was fucking awesome.” I can’t help it. I start laughing with her. “Wanna go again?”

She lifts her head and looks down at the dildo. “Well, I’m still erect, so I think I could.”

“The best part about not being with a man.”

“That and boobs.” She smiles as she looks over at me. “You are the sexiest person I have ever laid eyes on.”

“Stop talking…” I climb on top of her and slowly ease the dildo into me. The moan I let out doesn’t even sound like it came from me. She’s turning me into someone I barely recognize. “Stop talking… and fuck me again.” Her eyes widen as I start to bounce lightly on the dildo. Her hips move in time with me, her pushing into me as I press down and pulling out at just the right time. There’s something so fucking perfect about all of this because within seconds I’m coming again.

The dildo slips out of me, though, and she, breathlessly, says, “Ride my face.” I would never argue with her about that. She presses her tongue into me, licks my wetness from front to back and back to front, sucks on my clit, flicks it so hard and so fast that I literally can’t contain myself. And when I come, it’s my turn to come all over her. Except it’s not just her hand. It’s her fucking face.

“Oh my god.” I’m still coming so I can’t move, but as I ride out the orgasm, her chin pressing into my clit, I start to feel the same embarrassment she felt earlier. As soon as I’m done, I immediately climb off of her. “I am so, so sorry.” I wipe at her face with my hands. “I have never… before like that. I am so sorry.”

“Stop,” she says as she pushes my hands away. “That was so fucking hot. I would do it all over again right now with the same outcome. Please stop.”

“I just… wow. I guess I really let go when I’m with you.”

“Good,” she says as she leans forward and kisses me. “Because we aren’t done.”

“Thank god.” I slide my tongue into her mouth. “Do I get to fuck you with that strap-on?”

“This old thing?” she asks coyly as she wraps her hand around the shaft. “You can fuck me all night with it.”

“I plan on it.”

And I wasn’t lying. I really did plan on it.