Page 88 of Her Brother's Billionaire Best Friend

“If you’re not back bysunrise, I’ll send a rescue party.” I framed it as a joke, but thethought of Charlotte spending the night with anyone else feltwrong. Thinking about not holding her as she slept made my armsache.

Maybe it would be better if she spentthe night with someone else.

“Go on,” I said, againstevery instinct raging at me in the moment. “Have a goodtime.”

I watched her practicallyskip off into the castle and considered getting on the cart andgoing home. But we’d made a deal. I was going to get laid tonight,and, damn it, I would enjoy myself.

By the time I got into thelobby, Charlotte was nowhere to be seen. I wasn’t in the mood fordomination or impact play. At least, not without her. So, I headedto the other lounge.

The swingers room was anall-out fuckfest. There was no other way to describe it. Though itwas early in the evening, there were already threesomes, foursomes,tangles of limbs and moaning, writhing bodies covering most of thefurniture. By the time the sun came up and the party ended, theroom would smell like sweat and sex. Despite my half-heartedinvestment in the night, my cock rose in my trousers.

I scanned the room, lookingfor anyone who didn’t seem to have a partner. Or, partners, plural.I wasn’t in the mood for a group situation.

That’s when I spottedexactly what I wanted. Leaning against the wall, naked, his broadshoulders and ripped torso enough to make me feel like I’d beenslacking on my core workout. He had the body of a professionalwrestler, the haircut of a Marine, the pretty face of an A-listactor, and a shocking lack of people draped all overhim.

He noticed me as I made my way towardhim, feeling overdressed and weirdly old as I leaned on my cane forsupport to maneuver past a couple on the floor. His gaze traveledover me, his placid expression never changing. There was somethingcold in his eyes that appealed to me. I hoped he was into men,because I was about to proposition him.

“Taking a break?” I askedby way of greeting, once I was close enough to be heard over thedriving dance music.

“Getting warmed up.” Hetook his half-hard dick in his hand and stroked it, tilting hishead as he regarded me. “Top or bottom?”

I gave him a slanted smile.“Versatile.”

“Something to be said forflexibility,” he replied in his flat, almost boredaffect.

Damn, that arrogance was sexy. It waslike a challenge.

“Something to be said forprivacy,” I countered.

He raised his dark eyebrows.

I grinned. “Come withme.”

I hated my slow pace as weleft the room, but the nameless stranger didn’t seem to mind. Hewalked beside me up the stairs, to the long hall of private rooms.There was one at the end of the hallway, flanked by metal bracketedtorches with blown glass electric flames. Unlike the other rooms,this one didn’t have a number.

“I think that’s for staff,”the guy said as I passed the final open room on thehall.

I took my keys out of mypocket and dangled them. “I know the owner.”

I don’t know if I expectedhim to act impressed, but he wasn’t. “You are the owner, aren’tyou?”

That took me aback.Usually, if people knew I owned the resort, they were clamoring tofuck me. Which could be a little off-putting. It wasn’t as much funto have sex with someone who was doing it for prestige the actcertainly did not carry.

“I am,” I confirmed. “Isthat a problem?”

He shook his head andlooked me up and down. “I don’t see much in the way of a problemhere.”

My hand tightened on mycane. I slipped the key into the lock and pushed the door open.“Then come on in.”

My private room in thecastle wasn’t necessarily larger or more opulent than any of theothers. It was just free all the time, so I didn’t have to wait.Sure, I had my house, but I rarely took resort guests back with me.My castle room was outfitted with a wide, padded bench about thesize of a double bed, a tall, wing-backed chair, and an armoirestocked with toys, restraints, and safe sex supplies to accommodateany comfort level. All the furniture, and even some spots on thewalls, had attachment points for ropes or shackles.

As the stranger walked inand I closed the door behind us, I noted the way his near-flawless,tanned skin stretched tight over the muscles of his back, like hisstrength was so great it could barely be contained. I was no slouchin the gym, even after the bear accident, but I’d never lookedanything like this guy.

I tried not to guess at theoccupations of resort members; if they’d passed initial screening,I knew they hadn’t made their wealth off war crimes and humanrights violations. But I couldn’t imagine what kind of job areal-life action figure like this man would have that he couldafford a membership to Ascend Red. He had to be a pro athlete ofsome kind. Or maybe a fitness model who’d done remarkably well forhimself.

He walked around the room,eyes narrowed almost suspiciously. “No cameras in here either,right?”

“No cameras,” I assuredhim. “Have you been here before?”

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