Page 56 of Undeniably Corrupt (Boston’s Irresistible Billionaires #7)

** U nedited and subject to change

Aston

The heat surrounding me is pleasantly suffocating, even as it draws a layer of sweat to my forehead. That could also be the small buzz I’m rocking after three beers and three shots of tequila. I can’t remember the last time I did this, and I didn’t realize how much I needed a night out.

A Boston penthouse party wasn’t exactly on my Bingo card when I came home to visit from LA but given everything that’s happened in the last six months, there was no way I was going to say no. Especially when my parents told me they’d happily hold onto Zoey for the night.

Heavy-based music pumps through the room, and all around me is a conglomerate of Boston elite.

Billionaire doctors, movie stars, pop stars, and professional athletes are everywhere you look.

Myself included as the first one, but as I’ve been living in LA since I started my residency six years ago, I hardly fit in here.

“Hey,” Micha yells in my ear. “Want another drink?”

I’ve known Micha my entire life. Not only are our parents best friends, but so are we to the point where we even went to college together. He’s like a brother to me and has been by my side through everything.

“The answer to that is yes,” Bennett tells me, eyeing the end of my beer.

He was my resident my intern year in LA, and we’ve low level kept in touch over the years.

Now he lives here in Boston and is friends with my friends, including Micha, and the people I grew up with. Small world with how that works.

I think about this as I scan the dimly lit room. “Sure. What the hell.”

Micha nods, and the three of us make our way through the crowd over to the large bar lining the wall.

There are pink and red decorations everywhere, and every woman, and even some of the men, are dressed in variations of either color.

I’d never heard of people having Valentine’s Day parties before, but here we are.

“You made it!” Stone, whose penthouse this is yells so he can be heard over the noise of the party. “How’s your little princess?”

“She’s good. Hanging in there. She’s with my parents tonight.” I finish off the beer in my hand and set my empty down. “She made me promise to make her heart-shaped pancakes in the morning since that’s a Valentine’s tradition Astrid started last year.”

Stone nods, that familiar look of pity creeping into his eyes.

I hate that look. I don’t even know why I said all of that.

I’m so fucking out of sorts I don’t even recognize myself anymore.

Finding out my wife was sleeping with someone else was a blow, but discovering she was not only in love with him but going to marry him hit even harder.

Our divorce was finalized last week, and I brought Zoey to Boston so we could both get away.

A hand slaps my back, and I turn to see my older brother, Alden, with a lazy smile lighting up his hazy eyes. “Good. You’re drinking.”

I laugh. “I’ve been drinking.”

“Even better. Now we just have to get you laid. Listen, there’s someone here I want you to meet,” he begins, but I’m already shaking my head.

“Just one drink with her,” he persists. “She’s smart, funny, and sexy as hell.”

A glass is placed in my hand, and reflexively, I stare down at the clear liquid, wondering if another shot is a wise decision, but not caring all that much either.

“Don’t push that, man, if he’s not ready,” Micha defends.

A frown hits my lips before I can stop it.

I don’t remember the last time I had sex.

I was working bastardly long hours, and having a kid sort of changes your life, realigns your priorities, and removes options.

Also, you know, my wife was fucking someone else.

I had a one-night stand with Astrid. I met her at a club and screwed her in a back room.

Three months later, she tracked me down at the hospital and told me she was pregnant.

We started dating, and things were good. Great even. We got married and had Zoey, and it was as it should be, even with my residency. Or so I thought. Clearly I was wrong, and Astrid wasn’t happy. Or she simply fell out of love with me and in love with someone else.

“I live in LA and am certainly not dating anyone,” I explain.

“Who said anything about dating?” Alden quips, and Bennett rolls his eyes at him. “You know the saying get under someone new to get over someone old? Well, that’s what you need.”

The thought of meaningless sex is as appealing as it’s unappealing, but I simply give him a non-committal nod instead of replying.

“Well, it’s still good to see you, and I’m glad I was able to drag you out.” Micha holds up his glass.

“Yes!” Bennett declares. “To saving lives instead of taking them. To the right woman instead of the wrong. And to our beautiful daughters. May we get what we want, may we get what we need, but may we never get what we deserve.”

“I’ll drink to that.” I clink my glass with theirs and down the tequila in one smooth go. A shudder runs through me, and I set my empty down on the counter. “I’m going to find the bathroom.”

Stone points in the direction of a long corridor. “Any of the bathrooms in one of the bedrooms will be your best bet.”

“Got it.” I slap his shoulder and give my brother, Micha, and Bennett a small wave. “I’ll find you guys.”

With that, I head down toward the hall Stone mentioned. The alcohol warms my belly and lightens my steps. I nod hellos and smile at random people I pass, including a few women who are giving me come fuck me eyes that don’t hold a lot of interest for me.

I reach the first bedroom on my right and open the door to find it quiet and dark. It smells faintly of perfume, something easy and light and equally as appealing. I find myself taking a deeper inhale and then laughing to myself. Shit. I’m definitely drunk.

It takes me a moment to adjust to the darkness of the room, and on my right are two closed doors.

The first one turns out to be a closet. I move toward what I assume is the bathroom door and open it, only to see a fogged mirror and a glimpse of a woman with damp blonde hair falling in waves around her bare shoulders, but before I can take in more of her, a loud pop sounds from somewhere in the distance, and the lights go out.

Complete darkness falls, so absolute it feels like I’ve been struck blind. The party noise beyond the bathroom and bedroom sparks with surprised yelps, nervous laughter, and a few theatrical screams.

“Shit!” Someone who I think is Stone yells from somewhere in the penthouse. “No one move. The power went out. Let me see what’s going on.”

“Oh my god!” the woman in the bathroom exclaims. “This is dramatic. Good thing I finished getting cleaned up before this. You didn’t see anything, did you?”

“Huh? Is that meant to be ironic?”

“No. I wasn’t dressed.”

“Oh,” I reply automatically, feeling heat curl up the back of my neck at the thought. I rub it away with my hand. “No. The lights went out just as I opened the door. I didn’t see anything. I was looking for the bathroom.”

“You found it. I thought I had locked the door. A friend accidentally poured pink punch in my hair and down the top of my dress. I was in here washing it out of both. Crap, I seriously can’t see anything.”

“Me neither. Are you okay?”

“I mean, I’m not great considering the situation, but I think it’s better in here than out there.”

Given the loud murmurs and panicked hush outside the bedroom door, I’m inclined to agree with her.

It’s complete sensory deprivation in here, and a little eerie if I’m being honest. I hear her move and note the soft rustle of fabric against skin.

Is she getting dressed? The thought sends unexpected lust through my body.

“I think we’re stuck in here until the lights come back on.”

“Probably,” she agrees, and I hear her shift again, closer to me now, and with it I catch the light, sweet scent I liked when I came into the bedroom. Her perfume. A smile curls up my lips. “Though being trapped in a dark bedroom with a stranger isn’t the worst Valentine’s scenario I can imagine.”

Suddenly I’m aware of how close we are, how intimate darkness can be. The alcohol in my blood makes me brave, or perhaps just reckless as I inch closer to her, my pulse thrumming with excitement at the darkness and the woman.

“What would be the worst scenario?” I ask, my voice lower.

“Being alone in the dark,” she answers simply. “Or, you know, there being a psycho killer in the apartment going from room to room to slash up unsuspecting women.”

I chuckle. “Watch a lot of horror movies, do you?”

“Enough to know the half-naked, unsuspecting blonde always gets it first.” She cracks up. “Wow, that sounded insanely dirty. More like a porn than a horror film.”

My smile grows. “It did. Are you still half-naked?” I don’t know why I ask. Or why my voice drops to a seductive timbre.

“Not anymore. Not that you’d be able to see either way.”

“True. Your date must be missing you?”

She laughs, the sound full and uninhibited, making me chuckle in return. “That was the worst way to ask if I’m here with someone.”

“Probably,” I agree. “I’m a bit out of practice.” I blink, willing my eyes to see through the darkness, to find her, even if it’s just an outline, a flash of her eyes, something to go by.

“At what? Trying to flirt with women in the dark?”

“Yes,” I admit.

“Well, this is the most practice I’ve ever had.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve never flirted with anyone in the dark before.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“You shouldn’t. It’s the truth. I’ll have to scratch this off my bucket list.”

My hand fumbles forward until I find silky fabric covering her hip. “Not a very exciting bucket list,” I tell her. “What else is on it?”

She laughs, the sound a little breathy, probably from my hand, but she’s not pushing me away. “Skydiving.”