“That party was dead. Let’s go to the club,” Petra sighs while scanning her rearview mirror before taking off down the narrow street.
“Are you serious?” I ask in disbelief. I thought she was in some sort of trouble the way she rushed me, but the truth is I’m more annoyed that I leave that mystery man a second before I had to.
“Trust me. You’ll never see any of them again. The place was filled with pretentious bastards. I wish we’d never gone,” she says with a roll of her eyes, and something tells me it’s deeper than she’s letting on.
Her insecurity about not being in the upper echelons of LA society has led to several embarrassing showdowns for her, and I decide not to press the issue any further in case that happened tonight.
“We’re going to Icon,” Petra announces after a long pause.
The ride is short, but without the usual blaring music it feels awkwardly long. My thoughts drift back to the man at the party, and I find my thighs squeezing together as I recall his hands sliding down my body.
There was something about him that was so enticing. I’ve never felt so captivated in someone’s presence before, but now I can’t shake the feeling. Staring out the window as the bright lights of Hollywood pass, I remind myself that we’re from totally different worlds.
He lives in the Hollywood Hills, for Christ’s sake. Next door to celebrities, overlooking the city from a vantage point people like me could only dream of. He had to be in the entertainment industry with a face like that, but I don’t recognize him.
“We won’t be long in here,” Petra disrupts my thoughts as she pulls to the valet parking stand.
Icon is a large club, which means she knows someone working in every section of the place. After a brief conversation with a guy at the valet stand, we walk to the crowd of girls in skimpy dresses surrounding the bouncer, who is trying his best to not care about all the attention.
“Trevor!” Petra yells, throwing her hands up as the group of girls turn to acknowledge the woman responsible for putting a trace of a smile on the bouncer’s stone face.
“Petra! How are you, gorgeous?” He smirks, reaching down to lift the velvet rope so that we can both walk through. There are snickers of both curiosity and jealousy as we make our way into the club.
“Let’s get drinks,” Petra whispers in my ear as the deafening music kicks in, making it all but impossible for us to communicate any longer. I nod before following her to the bar.
Of course, she knows a few of the bartenders and they clamor to get her what she wants. For all the trouble I give her, I can’t deny how connected she is. She knows everyone, and going out with her is like being with a celebrity.
We knock back our drinks and watch the people on the dance floor.
“I’ll be back,” I hear her whisper, but by the time I turn to ask where she’s going, all I can see is the back of her red dress as she slithers through the thick crowd.
Turning back to the bar, I look at my now empty drink with annoyance. There’s no way I’m waiting for her to return to order another drink from her friends. So, although it’s against her rules, I decide to pay for my cosmo myself.
It’s then I realize I’m not carrying my leather clutch any longer. My thoughts scramble, trying to retrace my steps. Did I leave it in Petra’s car? The idea is unlikely, but all I can hope for. If not, it’s most likely on the lawn of that mansion, and Lord knows I don’t need another run in with that God of a man.
Shit!
Chapter 3
Logan
“Ava Batcher.”
Her name rolls off my tongue while my fingers move around the edge of her driver’s license. It’s almost as seductive as she was.
In her rush to leave, Ava forgot her little purse, and I couldn’t stop myself from opening it. To my surprise, she barely had anything inside. A driver’s license, lip gloss, some gum and some cash.
Her scent still lingers in the air as I look down the staircase, hoping she might return. I’ve never had a woman less impressed with me, let alone that eager to get away.
I could sense she was attracted to me from the way her breathing picked up every time I got closer. It was obvious she wanted me, but somehow, she found it easy to get away without so much as my name.
I’d spent much of my adult life searching for polite ways to tell women to get the hell out of my house, and now I’m racking my brain for an acceptable way to barge back into Ava’s life without looking like a creep.
Something about her was just so innocent. The way she looked at me, submitting all power and control. She was mine without question. Just recalling the moment we shared makes my cock rise. She was sexy, but not in the typical way girls are.
It had nothing to do with how she dressed, or even what she said, it was just her. Everything about her was alluring, and now I can’t even see myself going back into my own party without her.
The contents of her purse are a clear indication she’s not from my world, because you couldn’t make it an hour in my life with eighty dollars. Where the hell did she plan to go with that? The thought makes me chuckle.
Here I am, alone at the top of my staircase, as hundreds of people party below me for a charity I’ve agreed to host, while I’m stuck thinking of a cute young girl who decided to wander through my weekend home.
“Logan!” Jenn yelps, screeching around the corner from the level below me. I can see the panic on her face,
