She didn’t belong here.

Who did she think she was wearing that and looking like that at this kind of party?

Didn’t she see all the men staring at her?

Didn’t she see the women judging her?

I saw it. I saw all of their glares and judgment behind their beady eyes.

She was wearing a tight, dark dusky pink dress that hugged her curvy figure. The dress hugged around her neck, but I could still tell she had tits you could bury your face in. Her acid wash jean jacket, unfortunately, covered more of what I wanted to see but I’d get to see more of her later. I already decided she was going to be a perfect party fuck. She looked like the kind of girl I was never going to get attached to and that’s what I needed. She wasn’t my type and that’s what made her perfect.

She let out a slight smile as she watched an old woman shuffle away toward the bathroom. She scanned the room until her eyes stopped on me. Bullseye. She looked at me with a dumbfounded gaze then immediately turned around to look outside at the sad excuse of a garden. Her round ass shook through the thin fabric and stood perfectly still for a few seconds until she walked away around the corner to the open bar. At least she was at least twenty-one.

In her own way, she was captivating.

I want her. Fuck, my body needs her. But I never make the first move. I want to see how badly she wants me, so I’ll wait patiently for her to come over. And she will come over.

She came back to the bar with a dark drink in her hand and leaned up against the island countertop in the kitchen. She took a cold sip of her drink, slowly moving her eyes toward me like she shouldn’t do it but she couldn’t help herself.

“Do you agree with me, Mr. Kelly?” I heard a nasally voice coming from my side. I had almost forgotten that Mr. Summera was next to me.

“Yes, I agree,” I kept my eyes on her and let my mouth mindlessly carry out the conversation.

But seriously, who did she think coming to a party looking like that?

She had slanted, bright blue cat-like eyes, which remind me of a ragdoll kitten. Her bottom lip was pierced in the middle and each time she moved her lip it sparkled. Her light olive skin was flawless and worked well with her hair, that light pink short hair that shouldn't look good on anyone, but it did on her. Almost as if it was her natural color.

She looked like cotton candy kissed by the ocean.

Even though we were far apart, I could see her eyes tremble with lust as she examined me. It wasn’t before long until she finished her drink and stared at the empty glass like she needed a break. And I don’t blame her. Most people couldn’t hold my stare.

Yep.

She is going to be my perfect party fuck.

She pulled out a pink paper from her chest pocket and her phone from another pocket. She unfolded the pink sheet, cautiously, and skimmed it. She tried to hold the paper still, but failed.

What was on the pink sheet?

I clenched my jaw and tried to focus on the paper but didn’t see anything but black text. I narrowed my eyes on her, waiting for her to look up at me, since she wasn’t reading the sheet anymore. Her eyes locked into mine, but she immediately regretted it. She fumbled over the paper and stuck it back in her pocket for safekeeping. Her cheeks turned a soft pink color as she frantically texted someone.

Like a mindless teenager on her phone, she navigated herself to the bar where she came back with a full drink. She went over to the exact spot and pulled out that pink sheet that caught my curiosity again. She read it carefully, bubbling her lips over the text then placed it back.

“Hello, Mr. Kelly,” Mr. Orna stepped next to me, giving me his famous ass-kissing smile and his sweaty palm.

“Mr. Orna,” I looked down at his partially balding head and never raised my hand.

He knew better then to come at me with a handshake. I hated touching people I didn’t like. I hated the idea of handshakes, or the idea of people invading my personal space and privacy.

“Some party, eh?” he said nervously, pulling his hand away like he was the one who refused the handshake.

I looked down at his smile. There was a small black speck between his teeth but I wasn’t going to say anything.

“Yep, some party,” I sipped my cold water.

I went back to my Kitten, who was strolling across the floor with her beat up classic Adidas, heading toward me and Mr. Orna.

“Hello, Mr. Orna,” she greeted him with a fake smile, but avoided me entirely.

He was cold and distant as he observed her with his tired eyes.

“Oh, Mallory,” he almost cringed. “You look … different.”

He let out a noise that clearly signified dislike. He looked at her for an uncomfortable amount of time until he had enough. “I hear someone calling out my name …” he walked away leaving me and Mallory alone.

Mallory? Why is that so familiar?

She snarled quickly as Mr.Orna walked away and mumbled conservative asshole under her breath before she took a sip of her drink. She turned around, ready to leave, when I made the first move.

“Excuse me?” my deep raspy voice escaped my throat which instantly stopped her.

She pivoted around slowly, with the glass still touching her bottom lip. Her stare was narrow and curious as she took a sip of her drink — which I was going to assume was a Coke and Jack Daniel's — without ever breaking eye contact with me. And all I could do was imagine those cat eyes looking up at me while she worshiped my cock on all fours.

“I think you heard me.” She smirked in a smartass kind of way.

“You shouldn’t really say things that might get you in trouble?”

She puffed a laugh and rolled her ocean blues like a wave.

“In trouble? Really?” she exhaled sharply, not even thinking about the next thing she was going to say. “What are you going to do, punish me like some kind of schoolgirl?”

She was feisty with a smart mouth that had me desiring her more by the second.

“That depends. Is that one of your fantasies?” my eyebrows shot up, a little curious to see if she would answer the question.

But instead, her face fell, regretting that she even dared to talk back to me. She wasn't expecting me to be so direct, but I have no filter. She cleared her throat and watched her drink carefully, spinning it around, becoming hypnotized by the revolving ice cubes. She was debating something.

“How old are you?” she looked at me, trying to figure out my age. I knew I looked kind of young aside from my white streak and dark eyes.

“I think I’m supposed to ask that question?”

She softly pouted her diamond piercing at me. “Twenty-two.”

I figured she was over twenty-one, but I was still stunned by her young age. I usually never go for women who are younger than me. It wasn’t that I didn't want to, but the opportunity never really presented itself to me. Until now.

I took a sip of my ice cold water. “Thirty-seven.”

She didn’t say much, but she bit the inside of her lip. “When’s your birthday?”

I arched my brow a little shocked by this question.

“November 13.” I leaned toward her ear and got a good whiff of her sweet hair, which smelled like grapefruits and lilies. “If you’re trying to flirt you’re failing at it, Kitten.”

“Hmmmm,” she moved her hair behind her ear and fumbled back a few steps while her wide blue eyes were glued on me. She wanted to bring up something about her new nickname, but I think she just accepted it (as she should) when she closed her mouth.

“I’m not flirting … I just needed to find out some things.”

“And you think my age is more important than my name?” I smirked.

“I have my reasons, Mr. Kelly.”

She caught me off guard, knowing who I was. Usually, it’s other way around.

“Just like you have your reasons for dressing like that at this kind of party.”

“Exactly,” she grinned, not giving me a reason.

“What are you doing here?” I inched closer to her, invading her personal space.

“Celebrating my uncle’s promotion,” she sipped the last of her Jack and Coke.

“Ah, Mallory Scarner,” a wicked grin escaped my lips, leaving Mallory short of breath and wide eyed.

I knew exactly who she was.

She’s her uncle's “little angel.” I heard Bruce talk about her a few times when I roamed the office. He took a lot of pride in his sweet little angel, even though at this moment she didn’t look like an angel. Her eyes focused on my crotch as she bit her bottom lip. I wasn’t hard, but I think she was hoping I was.

“I’m going to go over to my uncle,” she hummed nervously and turned around, showing off her voluptuous hips.

“Mallory,” I used a calm voice that made her stop. She wasn't going to make the first move and I knew it. I was going to make an exception, just this once while I was still thinking with my head and not my cock.

She didn’t turn around.

“Why don’t you ask me if I want a tour of the house?”

“And why would I do that?” her blue eyes peeked over her shoulder. She was trying to keep a straight face, but I saw the end of her lip curl with bad intentions.

“Ask me for a tour of the house and you’ll see,” I placed my hand under her jacket, invading her privacy, and lightly brushing my hand against her small waist.

Her lip trembled. “Would you like a tour of the house?” she asked without any hesitation.

“Lead the way, Kitten,” I pushed her toward the stairs. I already know where we were going.