Page 1 of Worth Every Penny

1

NICO

The blonde from last night is still half-asleep, or pretending to be, as she drapes her leg over my hip and squeezes.Fuck’s sake.We might have slept together, but morning cuddles are definitely not on the agenda.

She grinds against me and gives a little moan. It’s a lot quieter than the screaming she was doing when her fifth orgasm hit, but there’s no way she’s asleep. I grit my teeth and shove her leg off.

Her eyes flutter open and she lets out a sultry yawn like I didn’t nearly push her off the bed. “Hey, handsome.”

“Morning.” I flick back the sheets, exposing us both to the chill.

Her smile disappears and the seductive look in her eye flattens. She knows what this is. She knew last night because I must have said it about a hundred times.

One night only.

I’m not looking for something serious.

This is just a casual fuck, okay? Nothing more.

She agreed; enthusiastically, too. But they always look bitter in the morning, no matter how explicit I’ve been.

I get up and head to the shower, hoping she’s gone by the time I get back.

She isn’t.

I have a towel wrapped around my waist, but she’s still naked on the bed, one knee raised, running her hand up and down her leg like it might tempt me back into the sheets. Her pussy splays open like the centerfold in an anatomy textbook as she slides her fingers towards it and raises an eyebrow at me; a clear invitation if ever I saw one.

But I have a strict rule about these things. Once the sun comes up, it’s over. No point encouraging them if there’s no future. It’s not fair to anyone.

The moment she reads the wordless rejection on my face, she pulls her legs together and sits up. “Can I take a shower too?” she asks.

On the scale of 1 tobitter, I’d put her about a 3. Maybe this one’s a realist.

I nod my head towards the ensuite. She disappears, but the sound of running water doesn’t follow, and a moment later she’s back, holding up the tiny bottles of hotel toiletries. “Can I keep these?”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Knock yourself out.”

She grins and cuddles them to her chest. “Thanks. These are lush. You have such good stuff at Hawkston Hotels. I love the shampoo.”

“You’ve stayed here before?” I don’t know why I’m asking because I don’t give a fuck, but she chatters away, oblivious to my disinterest.

“Not this exact hotel. I stayed in the one in Istanbul on a business trip. And the Hawkston New York with my sister last Christmas. That one’s fab. Such luxury. The Christmas tree in the lobby—it must be thirty feet tall. It’s like the one at Rockefeller Center.”

“Not quite.”

Ignoring my dismissive response, she returns to cradling the toiletries like she’s just given birth to them before her expression brightens with an idea. “Hey, I don’t suppose I could get a room discount in the future? You know, like, as a thank you?”

I shutter my eyes for a second.Unbelievable. This woman needs to disappear. Even my chivalry has limits. “Sorry, we don’t do that.”

She whistles a sigh. “Shame. Really do love these places.”

Truth be told, I’ve never been a huge fan of Hawkston Hotels. Not that I’d ever admit that to my father. He built the hotel chain from the ground up to become the largest in the world. Corporate luxury—large, soulless and functional.

I prefer a little boutique place, like the Lansen Luxury hotel chain I’m about to buy. But given that I just returned from the US and my brothers wanted to celebrate, we met at the Hawkston Mayfair. Slap bang in the middle of London’s West End. Crown jewel in the portfolio.

“I’ve never slept with an actual Hawkston though.” Her vivacious tone cuts through my thoughts, sending a spark of irritation up my spine. She looks excited enough to explode. “What did you say your name was?”

I would’ve given a fake name last night, but Seb, my youngest brother, was intent on seducing every attractive woman in the bar downstairs by telling them we owned the place.

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