Page 21 of Kisses and Paperclips

My pulse thundered in my ears, caught somewhere between the impulse to run and the reckless desire to stay. My heartbeat felt like it was trying to rewrite my entire list of rules about men like him.

I didn’t say a word. Couldn’t.

But I didn’t need to.

Something cool and firm slipped into my palm, a keycard, heavy with intention. My gaze flicked down, landing on the bold black numbers inked onto the paper sleeve, and heat pooled low in my stomach. A quiet dare. A silent challenge.

I should’ve refused.

Should’ve dropped it back into his outstretched hand, turned around, and chosen the cold, stiff couch in the hotel lobby over the tempting warmth of Julien Brooks.

But my fingers curled around that card, gripping it like it held the last of my good sense.

When I finally lifted my eyes again, Julien was already walking away. Unhurried. Completely confident. Like he knew he didn’t need to look back to see if I was coming.

Because he knew I would.

And damn him for that confidence, for the arrogance in the sway of his shoulders as he walked away, for the silent promise he left hanging in the air between us, daring me to follow.

Because even as I stood there, heart hammering and pulse racing, I knew I was about to do exactly what I’d promised myself I wouldn’t.

I was going to follow.

Because the only thing more terrifying than the thought of breaking my own rules was the nagging question whispering in the back of my mind:

What if?

???

I could lie to myself and say the only reason I’m standing on the presidential floor, staring at Julien’s door like it’s the gateway to some forbidden paradise, is because I refuse to spend the night playing security guard over my Louis Vuitton in a lobby full of strangers. But let’s be honest, who in their right mind would pass up the chance to stay in the presidential suite of a luxury hotel? Especially when the man behind the door looks and kisses like that.

Julien clearly did well for himself, but this? This was next-level. The man didn’t just love luxury; he lived it, breathed it, wore it like a second skin. And if I’m being honest, that’s one thing we had in common. Luxury wasn’t just a preference for me, it was a language. And tonight, Julien was speaking it fluently.

It was like tasting something decadent for the first time, a single drop of honey that left me craving the whole jar. It was reckless and electric, the kind of kiss that didn’t just linger on your lips but seeped into your bones, rewriting your priorities. And now, standing here, I couldn’t stop wondering where that kiss might lead if I let it.

One night. That’s all I wanted. One night to let go of the overthinking, the responsibilities, and the endless mental checklist that kept me tethered to reality. One night to be reckless, to give in to desire without apology.

But as I stood there, my hand hovering over the door, a wave of guilt and nervousness washed over me. What was I doing? Sleeping with a man I barely knew, no, scratch that, a man who was practically a stranger, wasn’t exactly in my playbook. I stepped back, my Louboutins clicking softly against the marble floor as if my body was trying to override my recklessness.

But the thing about me: I don’t backtrack. Once I make a decision, I own it. And walking up to this floor? That was a decision.

Now I just had to knock.

Chapter 4

Julien

The faint scent of Serena’s perfume lingered in my sheets, jasmine with a hint of vanilla, sweet enough to tempt me awake, warm enough to keep me craving. Eyes still closed, half asleep, my hand instinctively reached out, expecting her skin’s softness, the curves I’d memorized all night.

Instead, cold sheets greeted me.

I blinked slowly, sitting up, last night rushing back in vivid flashes…Serena’s throaty laugh vibrating against my mouth, her nails digging into my shoulders as she whispered my name like a secret between breaths. I remembered the shiver beneath my lips as I tasted the delicate spot on her neck, the way she trembled, pressed closer, begging without saying a word.

She wasn’t supposed to stay. Hell, neither was I. One night. No strings. But Serena wasn’t the kind of woman you shook off when morning came. She was the kind that sank deep, the kind who made me reconsider every rule I’d ever made.

Now, staring at the empty space where her warmth had faded, irritation tightened my jaw. I didn’t get left behind, didn’t wake up wondering where anyone had gone.

But Serena had flipped the script, and the worst part?

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