Page 5

She leans back. "Fine. But only if you answer one thing now—why is your dog named Stanley if she’s a girl?"

"Stanley’s short for Stanislava."

"No, it’s not."

"No. It’s not."

That earns another real laugh. I’d tell her more, but the moment feels fragile. If I say too much, she might connect the dots.

The waiter appears just in time, sliding our steaks onto the table with a dramatic flourish—bless him.

"Careful," I say, reaching for my knife. "Stanley bites anyone who disrespects her name."

Morgan laughs again, but I can feel her studying me as she cuts into her steak.

The small sound she makes after the first bite should be illegal in public.

"Okay," she admits. "You were right about the ribeye."

"I'm right about a lot of things."

"Really?" She arches an eyebrow. "Name one more."

"I was right about you."

"What about me?"

"That you'd be the most interesting person at that reception."

"Interesting?" She takes another sip of wine. "That's a safe word."

"Nothing about you feels safe."

The air between us shifts, crackles. Something electric and inevitable. Her eyes flick to my mouth for a fraction of a second—and that’s all it takes.

She’s been throwing sparks all night. The quick comebacks, the lean-ins, the heat in her gaze. Maybe I’m misreading her. Maybe I’ll end up with cabernet on my shirt and a bruised ego. But maybe…

“Your room or mine?” I ask quietly. Because what’s the worst that can happen?

“Yours. Spookie’s already converted mine into a socialist republic,” she says with a low, throaty laugh.

“Fair warning—Stanley staged a coup in mine.”

I signal for the check.

“I’m willing to risk it.”

As we head to my room, I can’t help noticing—she hasn’t asked about my job, my fame, none of it. It’s almost jarring. She wants to know who I am, not what I am.

And fuck, I like that.

The elevator ride is silent, charged. She's close enough that I can smell her perfume, something subtle and warm. When her hand brushes mine, electricity shoots through my body.

My key card takes two tries—her proximity isn't helping me focus. Then we're inside, and she's turning to face me, and—

Morgan grabs the front of my shirt and yanks me into her kiss like she’s pissed about wanting me this much. Her mouth opens instantly—hot, demanding, messy in the best fucking way—and I groan against her lips as her hand shoves down my jeans and grabs my cock through my boxers.

“Jesus,” I pant, pulling back just enough to see her eyes, dark and glittering with intent. “You don’t waste time.”

“Neither do you,” she mutters, already sinking to her knees.

My brain shorts out as she pulls my cock free, stroking me once with her palm, firm and confident like she’s done this in a hundred hotel rooms, and tonight I’m just next on the list.

Then her mouth wraps around the tip, and fuck me sideways.

“Fuck, Morgan—”

She moans low in her throat, swallowing me inch by inch like it’s a fucking competition.

One hand grips my hip, the other cradles my balls, and she sucks with this perfect rhythm—slow pull, fast twist, tongue swirling around the head before taking me deep again.

I watch her lips stretch around my cock, spit pooling at the corners of her mouth, and I can barely breathe.

“You’re gonna make me come,” I warn, because I’m not trying to blow this early like a goddamn rookie.

She pulls off with a wet pop. “Good. I want you hard again when I ride you.”

Fuck me.

I haul her up, crashing our mouths together, and drag her toward the bed. Her dress is gone in seconds—tight black fabric tossed somewhere across the room—leaving her in nothing but heels and lace panties soaked through.

I drop to my knees and tear those panties aside, licking a long, slow stripe up her slit.

Her whole body shudders. “Don’t tease.”

“Who’s teasing?” I murmur against her pussy. “You taste like fucking heaven.”

I spread her open and suck her clit, slow at first, then faster when she grinds into my face with this filthy little moan.

“Right there—yes—harder.”

I do exactly what she says, letting her ride my tongue until her legs start to shake. When she fists my hair and pulls me tighter, I slide two fingers into her, curling just right.

“Max—fuck—don’t stop—”

I don’t. I keep going until she breaks, hips bucking, coming in my mouth with a gasp that damn near makes me lose it.

I stand, wipe my mouth, and grab a condom.

She yanks me down onto the bed by my necklace. “Now. I want you inside me now.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She straddles me and sinks down in one greedy motion, taking me balls deep with a hiss between her teeth.

“Shit—you’re fucking huge.”

“Say it again,” I growl, gripping her hips.

“You’re huge, and I’m not stopping until I come on this cock again.”

And she rides me like she means it—fast, filthy, relentless. Her tits bounce with every grind, her nails rake down my chest, and her pussy clamps so tight I see stars.

I thrust up to meet her, my hands grabbing her ass as she slams down, over and over, chasing her next orgasm like she owns me.

“You feel so fucking good,” I grunt. “So tight. So wet. Fuck, Morgan—”

She leans forward, grinding her clit against me, panting in my ear. “You’re gonna come when I tell you. Not before.”

And fuck if I don’t obey. Because this woman—this bossy, beautiful, maddening woman—has me wrapped around her finger, and she knows it.

She comes again with a strangled moan, body shaking against mine, and I lose it. I grab her hips and slam up into her, groaning loud as I explode inside the condom, my whole body locking.

She collapses on my chest for a second. Breathless. Slick with sweat.

Then rolls off like nothing happened.

Just a hookup. Just a night.

I lie there, staring at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath and ignore the ache building in my chest.

Because I want more.

But she made the rules.

And I played by them.

Later, watching her dress in the hotel room's dim light, I can't shake the feeling that I'm watching something important walk away.

"Good luck tomorrow," she says at the door.

"You too." I lean against the doorframe, watching her go. "May the best team win."

She throws a smile over her shoulder that hits me like a sucker punch. "Oh, we will."

I close the door, but I can't close off the way she's gotten under my skin. One night. That was the deal.

Too bad my heart didn't get the memo.