Page 1 of Midnight Kisses

CHAPTER 1

MILES

Preoccupiedwith the price of my freedom, I pushed through the bathroom door expecting urinals and faucets, not a blonde smokeshow with tits that could end a man.

A blunt curse fell out of my mouth.

“Pardon?”

Plump, pink lips shaped her query and I temporarily forgot about the situation that had brought me in here.

Reflexively, I straightened to my full height. “I thought this was the men’s room.”

Her large blue eyes flicked to the door and back to me. “Didn’t you see my sign?”

Now I was paying attention, I didn’t need a sign to know that no men’s room would have a lightshow of pink stars on the ceiling, the heavy scent of flowers, or a fucking goddess reclining here on a chaise lounge like she was waiting for a horny reprobate to arrive and pleasure her.

Here I was?—

No, I had more pressing concerns.

“Sorry, blondie. You need to get out. I have a situation.”

She sat up with a huff, which jerked her incredible breasts.I’dlike to jerk her incredible breasts. Distracted again, I took in her long calves, thick thighs and plush, curvy body which was wrapped in a dress that held her like a satiated lover: attentive and intimate.Grateful. She looked like she belonged in a painting with cherubs and horny satyrs and miscellaneous other revellers fawning over her.

“What situation?” The goddess asked.

I parted the flaps of my jacket and flicked a hand at my crotch, a gesture that would’ve been rude as fuck if not for the large red wine stain which ran from my navel to my knees, turning the light grey fabric dark, ruining both my trousers and my mood.

Fucking Rose McNulty and her fucking wandering hands.

She’d been chasing me around the Purkiss New Year’s Eve party, shedding subtlety and accumulating desperation as the night wore on. Angling herself between me and the colleague of Robert’s I’d been talking to, she’d forced me to inch back until the reinforced glass and 200m plunge had me at her mercy. During the day, tourists and thrill-seekers strapped themselves into harnesses and leapt off the observation deck here at the Sky Tower—forfun—which I hadn’t understood until the alternative was Rose.

Tipsy, Rose had gone in for a fiddle, forcing me to pull an evasive manoeuvre which worked beautifully in terms of avoiding digits-on-dick, but poorly in terms of knocking a glass of Martinborough pinot noir down my crotch.

I knew exactly the region of the wine, because the glass had been my father’s and he’d cried, “my Martinborough pinot!” as it tumbled.

Now, the Pre-Raphaelite wet-dream hidden here in the bathroom was eyeing my crotch, and not for the right reasons.

“Not to be rude,” I drawled to the bathroom woman, because even though I was the CEO of my family-owned business, I’d learned that prefacing my opinions this way kept HR off my dick. “But unless you want an eyeful, you should make yourself scarce.”

“I can’t. This is my job. I’m the bathroom attendant.”

I frowned. “Bathroom isn’t a job.”

Blondie giggled. “Good Kenergy.”

“What?”

“You know.” She adopted a silly pout and dropped her voice. “My job is just:bathroom.”

She was speaking in tongues. Which made sense, because she couldn’t be the hottest woman on the planetanda mental giant. That would fuck up the balance of the universe.

“I need to get the wine out of my pants. So, you—” I snapped my fingers in a point, then jerked my thumb over my shoulder, “—need to skedaddle.”

“I should help you.”

If this goddess was anywhere near my crotch, the only thing I wanted her help with would result in another stain on my pants.

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