It was my turn to be late for once.

I kept the Roths waiting on the roof as I sat in the back of my car, parked directly in front of the hotel’s side entrance. My stare was trained out the window, giving only occasional glances at Turner’s asinine texts.

The last one came in just as I spotted that long dark hair down the block.

I tensed as I sat forward. I hadn’t seen Sara since she’d milked every drop of cum from my cock this morning, and I was practically fucking dizzy looking at her now. She was wrapped in a light brown dress that didn’t show so much as a hint of cleavage, but it was form-fitting with a hem that skimmed several inches above mid-thigh. It made me want to lick those fucking legs from ankle to pussy.

Christ.

I wasn’t entirely sure how I was already missing the taste of her skin on my lips. I’d gotten more than my fair share of satisfaction this morning, but seeing her now, I was back to square fucking one.

“Hey.” Her greeting was breathy, half-surprised when she saw me. “I thought you’d be upstairs already. It’s past six.”

“Yes. Turner has kept me painfully aware of the time,” I said, walking slightly behind her as we entered the hotel. “He’s early again.”

“Shocking, actually. And you’re late.”

“I preferred to wait for you to go in.”

“Mm. Didn’t think I could handle being alone with those two?”

“No, I didn’t want those two to see the way I looked at you tonight. I needed some time to react alone first.”

“Oh.”

That certainly shut her smart mouth. My lips twitched with amusement as we entered the hotel through the lesser-known side entrance, our eyes finding each other as we waited for the elevator we’d met in.

“So have you fully reacted yet?” Sara teased. I smirked as, on cue, the elevator arrived.

“Almost,” I replied as we stepped in.

The moment the doors closed, my hands were on her.

She moaned as I palmed her pussy under her skirt, sucking her lip into my mouth.

I tortured myself as I groped up her body and felt no bra under her dress.

Every little breath of hers went straight to my balls. Every little whimper sent my blood fucking rushing.

But just as quickly as we’d started we stopped, standing apart as a couple entered on the tenth floor. They rode with us up to the roof, stepping off before us and giving me a chance to rub my hand over Sara’s ass before we were promptly greeted and taken to meet the Roths.

* * *

There wasn’t so much as an umbrella to provide shade for us at our table, and every time I fanned myself, Turner stopped what he was saying to watch me.

“I’ve got a surprise for you. Don’t you worry,” he grinned every time.

I had no idea what he meant. In fact, Carter looked as confused as Julian and I did. But I didn’t ask questions. A part of me hoped that whatever the surprise was, Turner would forget after enough margaritas.

He was on his fourth, Carter on his third.

Julian and I were on our second – technically. Turner insisted, but while he and I spoke after he ordered, I spotted Julian’s quick exchange with the waitress from my peripherals. And with that, we were served virgin drinks anytime Turner ordered.

“I’m sorry,” Julian had whispered to me. “I’m not drinking tequila with these guys. We’ll get actual drinks when this is over.”

I did my best not to grin over the invitation for a private night out. Carter had already caught a flirtatious look I’d given Julian at the start of the meeting. After, he’d kept his stare pinned on me till I looked at him, as if forcing me to acknowledge what he’d just seen.

“Obviously, we’re going to need more than a few rooms when we go out there,” Turner said, still on the topic of what kind of suites Julian would offer him for the trip out to the resort in Biarritz. “It’s not gonna be just me and Carter out there. I’ve got my business advisors, financial consultants, lawyers.” He lifted his eyebrows at Julian as if waiting for him to be impressed, or daunted maybe. Of course, he was neither.

He looked calm, collected, far too dashing in classic Persol shades and a white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He looked to me like he should be driving some shiny wooden speedboat in Lake Como, not dealing with Turner Roth’s insufferable drunkenness.

“I look forward to meeting your advisors,” Julian said evenly.

“You should. They’re smart men. I’m bringing the whole fuckin’ team, and they sure as shit ain’t gonna share rooms.”

“It’s high season, but once you agree on an actual date, I’ll be sure to call the resort to arrange for the proper amount of suites,” Julian said.

“Yeah… I’m bringing a bunch of old fucks who sleep at like, ten, so their rooms actually matter,” Turner snorted, draping an arm over the glass railing of the balcony. We were twenty floors above ground, but with a flick, he tossed his garnish over the side of the roof. “The four of us though… I hope you know we’re going to have some late nights in Biarritz.”

“And why is that?” Julian asked.

“Well, I haven’t been out there in years, and you two are the experts. You gotta show me where the gems are. I gotta feel like I wanna take my business to that town, you know what I mean?”

“That just sounds like an excuse for you to get shitfaced instead of work,” Julian said.

My jaw fell open. A brief silence followed, and I looked up from my drink to see Julian and Turner smiling at each other despite the palpable tension at the table.

“What can I say? You know me by now, Hoult. I work hard, and I play hard.”

Julian’s laugh was genuine, and I knew it was because he found only the latter half of Turner’s claim to be true. He played hard, and he played hard. Even I knew that at this point.

“Well, regardless, I’ll at least have your advisors on board at that point. That’ll guarantee me at least a couple sober minds to talk to.”

“Yeah, maybe you can all talk shop and sleep at ten while I take Sara out for drinks. How about that?” Turner asked, his glassy eyes unblinking at Julian.

“How about we get back on topic?” Julian suggested, his mouth still curved slightly up despite his voice sounding as brittle as ice. Even Carter flashed me a what just happened look over the exchange.

I had no idea, and Julian wasn’t giving me any directions, so feeling slightly awkward, I excused myself.

In the bathroom, I used a paper towel to dab at the beads of sweat forming on my hairline. I was dying to put my hair up, but I’d left my only racer back bra with Julian, and I had no intention of giving the Roths that much of a show. Besides, the biggest battle was almost over. Turner and Carter had agreed on the trip to the Biarritz resort, and once we got out there, their advisors would more than likely tell them the purchase was a no-brainer, and this would all be over. We’d probably complete the trip within the next few weeks, and then negotiations would take place for some time after.

Well before the end of the summer, this would all be done.

Holding my hair off the back of my neck, I stared at myself in the mirror.

I didn’t want to admit to myself that I already feared this being over. But that was a difficult truth to suppress considering anytime I so much as looked in the mirror lately, I saw the body Julian couldn’t keep his hands off of. I imagined the heat of his broad chest behind me, his lips on my neck and his palms smoothing down my hips.

He was the one responsible for whatever reawakening I’d had since quitting my job, and now I was screwed. Now, I couldn’t imagine wanting anyone else. I’d seen plenty of good-looking men since meeting Julian - at the gala, at Hoult Tower. They were all polished, handsome and put together. Technically, Turner and Carter were handsome. But Julian’s allure had completely spoiled me to the point that I found myself almost annoyed by how little my favorite actors and TV stars did for me at this point.

He really had ruined my taste and ability to have a normal attraction for others. So what was I supposed to do with myself when he moved on from me? Become asexual? The thought made me feel grim.

But I couldn’t afford to be grim.

I had to be strictly bright and engaging for the Roths, so with a splash of water to my face, I snapped myself out of it, or at least tried.

Of course when I returned to the table, I found Julian looking just as dark and somber as I had a second ago.

“What’s going on?” I asked, feeling wary when I noticed Turner’s big, shit-eating grin.

“Oh, I was just telling Julian that before we set a date for the trip, we gotta make sure of one thing.”

I cocked my head. “What’s that?”

Turner wiggled his eyebrows.

“We gotta make sure you know how to surf.”