I step back into line, knowing that she is going to choose the guy to my left. Number two. She’s had eyes only for him since the competition started. But, damn, that kiss was hot.

I’ve kissed strangers before but never like that. When I kissed her, she submitted to me. She wanted me to take control. Was begging for it. And I was more than happy to take it. That’s what my whole life is. Taking charge and loving it.

I stare at her, commanding her to pick me with my eyes. I don’t think it will work, but it’s worth a shot. She’s the opposite of the type of woman that I would usually go for. She’s a troublemaker; it’s clear from this little game that she convinced the staff to play along with. I’m into corporate women who always dress classy with clean, sharp looks. But this woman doesn’t care that she breaks all the norms when it comes to her looks. She has blue streaks in her dark hair, piercings and tattoos cover her body, and the way her body moves is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. She’s confident and independent, but she seems tired of always being so in control of herself when it’s clear from her appearance that she would rather be free, going whichever way the wind pushes her. Something is stopping her. But maybe this is her way of trying to break free of whatever is holding her back.

Behind me, I hear Noah, Harry, and Levi cheering for her to pick me. They were the ones who pushed me into this ridiculous competition in the first place. I’m here to get a break from the chaos, and I brought a few members of my team along with me. I thought they had earned a much-needed break from our daily grind at the office. They jumped at the chance to push their boss into a pissing contest over a complete stranger. I regretted bringing them the second they pushed my ass onto the stage.

Now, I’m thankful. That kiss brought me back to life again. It reminded me what taking a chance with a woman feels like and how good it feels to have a woman’s lips on mine. I’ve taken a break from extracurricular activities, like fucking a woman, for far too long. That ends tonight. I want it to be with this woman in front of me, but if she doesn’t want me, there are plenty of hot women here that I can have. I’m here for seven nights. Seven women in seven nights sounds like an excellent plan.

“Can I get a drum roll, please?” Bayron says to the crowd.

Everyone begins banging on things and shouting loudly for who they want to win.

She bites her lip—a habit of hers when she doesn’t know what she wants I’ve noticed, or at least guess since she’s done exactly that half a dozen times since the competition started. Or she does, but she is not ready to say it yet.

Her eyes are bright and wild as she looks from the first man to the second and then finally to me. I smirk at her. She won’t pick me, but I want my face burned into her memory, so when she is fucking him later, my face will pop into her mind, making her second-guess her choice. I want her to regret not choosing me every day.

“And the moment of truth! Will it be contestant number one?” Bayron says as the first guy’s friends cheer him on. “Contestant number two?”

The crowd cheers loudly for contestant number two.

“Or contestant number three?”

Again, the crowd cheers loudly at the same level they did for the guy in front of me.

“And the winner is…” Bayron holds the microphone to her luscious lips, which she is still biting into.

I should have bitten her lip when I had the chance just to see what all the fuss was about.

“Number three.”

The crowd cheers while I try to keep my bewilderment at winning off my face. No one needs to know that I’m not a cocky ass who thought I had this in the bag from the beginning.

The other men sulk off, disappointed that they lost. I stride forward to claim my prize and bite the lip that I’ve been thinking about for the last few minutes.

But Bayron stops me in my tracks before I can even get close to her.

“You hurt her, I’ll kill you. And I know where you sleep at night. Understand?”

I nod, not understanding why the staff would care so much about one of its guests.

Bayron escorts me over the few feet to her.

“Skye, this is Brody. Brody, this is Skye.”

“Brody?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at my name.

“Yes. You have a problem with my name?”

She laughs. “No, it sounds like a name for an arrogant man who knows how to treat a woman in bed. Just my type.”

My eyes dart over her body again, taking in her breathing that has sped up as her chest rises and falls beneath the bikini top that barely covers her body. Her eyes dilate as she looks me over as well, and from how she moistens her lips, she is more than happy with what she sees me. She might have struggled with her decision between me and the other guy, but tonight, I’ll make sure she forgets that any other man exists.

She licks her lips again, and I know she is preparing for another life-altering kiss. Her whole body is on alert, waiting for me to make my move now that she has chosen me. I don’t know anything other than her name, but I already know from her expression that she is ready for me to sweep her off her feet and go fuck her in the nearest bedroom. I’ll happily answer her wishes.

I take a step forward. I grab her and pull her close to me again. I love how her heartbeat picks up while her breathing all but stops when I simply hold her in my arms. I can’t imagine what her body will do when I actually take her back to my room and strip her naked.

“Excuse me,” Bayron says, pushing between us, cockblocking me.

I glare at him like I’ve never glared at a man before. I won. She chose me. I played all of his stupid games. Now, let me have her.

The only thing keeping me from punching him right now is that, if I do, I know I’ll get thrown out of the resort, and I won’t ever be able to have her.

“The resort would like to give you both a gift,” Bayron says.

“That’s really not necessary, Bayron. I appreciate you playing along with my stupid game,” Skye says, not looking at Bayron. She’s looking at me like she’s about to devour me.

My cocks twitches at that thought.

“Oh, but it is. You are one of our favorite guests, Miss Skye, and we want to make sure you are thoroughly taken care of while you are here. And that means giving you a special gift to celebrate your new relationship.”

Don’t kill him. Don’t kill him, I repeat in my head. I can’t have the girl if I kill him.

“And what gift is that?” Skye asks, her throat dry and raspy as she speaks.

“We want to make sure your first date is spectacular. So, we will go all out tonight to throw you the best first date possible. It will be the most romantic moment of your life.”

“This isn’t about romance,” Skye says.

Bayron grabs her arm and turns her from me, whispering loud enough that I can still hear him. “A little romance never hurt anyone. I have a full day planned with a spa trip to prepare you for your date tonight.” He turns his head back to me. “The date starts promptly at seven. I’ll have someone send more information to your room shortly, Mr. Brody.”

And then he takes Skye and walks her away from me. I don’t get my kiss. I barely even got to put my hands on her. I want to run after her and kidnap her out of his pushy hands.

Skye glances back at me one last time before Bayron leads her around the building and out of view. The look she gives me is one that asks me to save her. I want to. But I know that the asshole who has a grip on her arm won’t let me.

Tonight. I’ll have to find a way to put an end to the romance and get to the fun part. It’s clear that Skye is on the same page with me on that one.

I walk back to where the guys are still sitting.

“You won. But why do you look like you do when we are in a meeting and you hate everything that we have presented to you?” Noah asks.

“Because I’m in a foul mood.”

“Where’s your woman?” Harry asks, laughing.

“Bayron took her for a day of pampering before our date tonight.”

“Ooh, date. I can’t imagine you dating,” Harry teases.

“That’s because I don’t date. I never have. And I don’t plan on going on one tonight.”

“Then, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to kidnap the girl that I won from the bastard who thinks he’s in charge of her well-being, taking back control into my own hands.”

* * *

The seven hours until our “date” creep by slowly. The guys thought I should spend it getting drunk, which would have been the more fun way to spend the day. But I hardly ever get drunk. I don’t like losing control. And, tonight, in order to get Skye away from Bayron and his staff, I need to be clearheaded.

So, instead, I spent it working out, working on my computer, and trying to get Skye out of my damn head. I’ve never had a woman take over my head before. Work always keeps me plenty busy enough to push away any flickers of thoughts about boobs or ass. But even work wasn’t enough to keep the sway of her hips as she walked away from me out of my mind.

I hear a knock on the door to my suite. I growl, not wanting to see whoever is on the other side of that damn door unless it’s Skye. The last time I answered the door, a nicely dressed man delivered my outfit for tonight. Like I was incapable of picking out my own clothes for a date.

I walk over to the door and throw it open. “What?”

Bayron frowns. “You’re not wearing what was delivered to you.”

I glance down at my khaki shorts and a dark V-neck T-shirt. “I’m sure I’m dressed well enough for whatever it is you are having us do.”

He ignores me and pushes into my room. He walks over to the floor of my bed where I tossed the bag that was delivered to my room an hour ago. He picks it up and pulls out a light-blue button-down shirt, khaki pants, dress shoes, and a tie.

“Get dressed,” he says, walking back to the door.

“And if I don’t?”

“Then, I guess I’ll have to find Matt, the runner-up, to take your place on the date with Skye tonight. And shave, too.”

He slams the door. I rip the shirt off my body and throw it at the door, hoping it will help me not kill him. I still want to, but I try to be a good boy. I shave. I get dressed in the clothes that were delivered to me. I’ll play along until I have my chance to steal Skye away to do something with a lot less romance.

I open the door when I’m dressed. Bayron scans me up and down and must approve because he waves me to follow him. I follow him out of my suite and down the hallway to the elevator.

We step on.

“So, what is this grand date you have planned for us tonight?”

“You’ll find out.”

“So, why are you doing this again? Trying to make tonight so perfect for us?”

The doors open to the ground floor, and we both step out.

“Because Skye is a very important guest to us.”

“You mean that she is related to the owner.”

He shakes his head. “No, she’s just special.”

“You have a thing for her or something?”

“No, Mr. Brody, I just care about her. You can ask Miss Skye why if you want more details,” he says, ending the conversation.

I put my hands in my pockets as I follow him out toward the beach, waiting for a clue as to what we are doing. I find none. We stop suddenly in the sand.

“Wait here,” he says.

I sigh but do what I was told.

I watch Bayron jog back up toward the resort and then disappear. I glance around me, waiting for someone to jump out and mug me if Bayron has his way. Just when I’m about done with this waiting crap, I see her.

She walks down the beach toward me without Bayron in sight—thank god. She’s wearing a light-gray dress that is cut low in the front and then hugs tightly to her body before flowing around her legs. It shimmers a little toward the bottom as she walks, as if each step she takes makes the sand beneath her feet sparkle. The wind blows and tousles her hair over her head while the dress blows at her feet.

He told me to wait. Like a dog. I’m not waiting anymore.

I jog toward her far too fast for someone who is going on a date with a woman he doesn’t even know. But I don’t care what she thinks of me right now. Today has been hell, waiting after our kiss this morning.

She starts running toward me as well until we crash into each other, our lips locking together immediately before anyone has a chance to tell us otherwise. Our hands grab on to each other, holding us together instead of exploring each other’s bodies like I really want to be doing.

Her tongue darts into my mouth, begging me to take the kiss further and making it known just how badly she has wanted to kiss me all day. It makes me hungrier. I need her now.

I deepen the kiss, pushing her lips apart wider as my tongue pushes inside her, massaging her tongue. I hear the purr in her throat in response. She loves it when I kiss her. It’s what caused me to win. One kiss changed it all.

We hear a throat clearing, and she reluctantly starts to pull away, but I won’t let her. Not until I’ve had one last taste.

I pull her bottom lip into my mouth and gently bite down. I feel her body tighten in my arms as she tries to keep the intense feelings of desire at bay.

I let her go then. Satisfied with finally getting to taste her lip.

“Right this way,” Bayron says as he starts walking us down the beach.

I wrestle with myself between grabbing Skye and taking off now or waiting until later. I decide on later. I’m sure he just has a dinner or something set up. We can eat quickly and then get out of here.

Our hands interlink as we follow Bayron down the beach, still not saying a word to each other, but not needing to. We know that we want each other. In a bed. Right now.

We round the edge of the property and see a large yacht sitting at the end of the pier.

“Your date awaits,” Bayron says, pointing toward the boat.

My mouth drops open. I know how much a yacht like that costs. There is no way that this is our gift from the resort. Even if we only go out for an hour, it would cost them more than both of our rooms for the entire week, combined.

“You’re kidding, right?” I ask.

Bayron smiles. “Only the best for Miss Skye.”

He starts walking down the long wooden peer. The yacht gets larger and larger with each step we take.

“He’s joking, right? If this is really our gift, you know they are going to expect us to pay them back somehow,” I lean over and say to Skye.

She shrugs. “Let’s just get the romance over with, so we can move on to the fun part.” She winks.

I squeeze her hand tighter. “Done.”

We keep walking toward the yacht, and the boy part of me that still gets excited about shiny things with fast motors and expensive boats gets me far too giddy as we stop in front of it. I’ve never been on a yacht before, and all I want to do is go explore every inch of it. Talk to the captain about how it works, how expensive it is, and how fast it can go.

But then I look over at Skye, and I forget about the damn yacht. We could be riding a bus for all I care as long as I get to hold her again. Kiss her. Fuck her. Nothing else matters. Not even figuring out the crazy reason we are getting to ride in this yacht instead of just getting a romantic dinner on the beach, like every other couple who stays at this resort.

Bayron holds his hand out to Skye. She lets go of my hand and takes his as he helps her into the yacht.

I grind my teeth to keep from chewing Bayron out for taking Skye from me for a single second. I really need to get my anger in check. Bayron is just doing his job. He’s not hitting on Skye. And it’s clear Skye is only interested in me. But I can’t. I’ve never felt such claim over a woman before, especially one that I’ve only ever kissed.

I climb up onto the yacht behind Skye.

“Have a good date. If you need anything, just ask one of the wait staff on board or the captain.”

I turn back to look at Bayron. “How long are we going to be on the yacht?” I’m starting to think that he’s going to trap me on this boat so that I can’t escape and am forced to be romantic with Skye.

He smiles. “Are you well taken care of, Miss Skye?”

She gives me a sideways glance with a sparkle in her eyes before she takes my hand again. “I think I’m in very good hands.”

“How long?” I ask again, not about to be trapped on this yacht for my entire vacation.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Brody; there are beds on the yacht,” he says with a wink.

The yacht starts moving gently away from the pier. I could jump back onto the pier. But I don’t think I could get Skye to come with me. I hate not having control. I hate not knowing where we are going or when we are coming back. But, until this yacht turns around, I’m going to have to find a way to let all of that go.

“Come on,” Skye says, pulling me toward the front of the yacht as we head out into the ocean, toward the sun that is just beginning to set.

We stop at the railing at the front of the boat, still gripping on to each other’s hands while resting them on the railing. We stand in silence just staring at the ocean.

“I’m sorry,” Skye says as she looks out at the ocean.

“Why are you sorry?”

“For Bayron. He means well, but sometimes, he takes things too far. You never agreed to being kidnapped on a boat with me.”

My eyes widen a little at just how on the nose she is about my feelings. But, as soon as she says it out loud, I realize how absolutely ridiculous my feelings are.

I stroke her cheek. “Don’t be sorry. For any of it. There are worse ways I could be spending my time than trapped on a boat with a beautiful woman like you.”

She blushes a little. “Let’s try to survive for a couple of hours, and then we can have them turn it around.”

I arch an eyebrow. “You can have them turn the yacht around at any time, and they’ll listen to you?”

Skye turns toward me with an amused smile. “You really thought they were kidnapping us and holding us hostage until we had the romantic date that they wanted, didn’t you?”

I shrug. “Bayron came to my room, forced me to wear this outfit, and then escorted me down to the beach where he told me to stay. Then, he forced me onto a boat, and I have no idea how long I will be on it. Seems like kidnapping to me.”

She places her hand on my chest, running it over the smooth fabric, feeling the muscles that ripple beneath her hand. “You’re right. This shirt is horrible.” She winks at me. “And I’ll let you repay the favor by kidnapping me anytime.” Her hand dances across my chest as she looks to her right. “It looks like dinner is ready.” She sighs.

I look to my left and see three waiters with a fancy table with a white tablecloth and red roses everywhere. This is going to be the most romantic date of my life in the most romantic of places. This is meant to be the start of an epic love story. It’s just not the love story that either of us wants.

I walk over to the table and pull out the chair like the gentleman that I am for Skye to sit.

She shakes her head and walks over to the other chair. She pulls it out herself and takes a seat.

I rub the back of my neck, completely bewildered by this woman.

“This isn’t a date. Take a seat, Romeo,” she says, pointing at the chair that I just pulled out for her.

I take a seat. “I thought that was exactly what this was. A date.”

“What do you want to drink?” she asks me.

“Wine.”

“No, not wine. What else do you want?”

“Bourbon.”

She looks at the waiters. “Bring us a bottle of bourbon and tequila and two glasses. Then, leave us alone until we call for you.”

The waiters nod and then leave to I assume follow her instructions.

“Why can’t we have wine?” I ask.

“Because wine is for people on a date.”

“And we aren’t on a date?” I ask, still not understanding what we are doing then.

“Exactly. We aren’t on a date.” She reaches into the middle of the table, grabbing the red roses sitting on the table. “Get the petals,” she commands.

I quickly sweep the flower petals into my hand, not sure what we are doing with them. Two waiters return with the bottles and glasses.

“Set them on the table in the center,” Skye commands.

They do without hesitation or blink of the eye.

“Now, take these, and leave us alone. We will come inside to grab food later.” Skye holds out the flowers, and I do the same. The waiters take the flowers and petals and leave us alone.

Skye grabs the tequila bottle and glass and pours herself a glass almost completely full with way more tequila than what she should be drinking. She takes a swig as she leans back in the chair until the front legs are off the ground. “Better. Now, it’s not a date.”

I nod as I look around at the yacht. She might have taken away the flowers and the wine, but we are still on a boat with gold-colored edging and dark wood floors, which costs more than quadruple the price of most people’s houses. We are still alone on a yacht in the middle of the ocean with the sun setting before us. Getting rid of a few flowers doesn’t get rid of the fact that this is definitely a date.

“Now, you just need to get rid of the sunset and start burping or something so that I stop thinking of you as this beautiful woman I want to fuck.”

She burps.

I laugh.

“I can’t do anything about the sunset. And I want you to want to fuck me, just not date me.”

I grab the bottle of bourbon and pour myself a reasonable glass.

“So, what are we doing if we aren’t on a date?”

“We are negotiating.”

I take a drink of my bourbon. “And what are we negotiating?”

“What I want from you.”

She takes another drink of her tequila, emptying almost half of the glass, before she leans forward, the front legs of her chair touching back down on the ground. She harshly places the glass back on the table, and she folds her arms in front of her.

“Here are my terms. I want one week of filthy, dirty, tie me up, spank me till I come, dangerous sex. I want the kind of sex that makes me forget about everything. I want the kind that makes me feel alive again. The kind you only read about in naughty romance books or when watching porn. That’s what I want. Can you give me that, Brody?”

Her eyes are dark and serious when she talks. Her voice is stern and unwavering. Something happened to her to make her need this or at least think that this is what she wants. And I don’t care to know what it is. I don’t want to get involved in her clearly messy life.

I lean forward on the table so that I’m eye-to-eye with her. “I can make your darkest fantasies come true.”

She grins. “Good. I chose my man well then.”

I nod.

“Now, the terms. You are mine for the week. You don’t get to go around, fucking other women and then fuck me. I’ll have sex with you as much as you want this week, but I’m not willing to share.”

I smirk. “I don’t share either.”

“Good. I also don’t do attachment. We aren’t dating. We aren’t a couple. This goes nowhere after this week.”

“I don’t date, so it won’t be a problem—as long as you can keep your emotions out of this.” I eye her with suspicion.

She growls. “Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I have emotions that need more controlling than you do. When I look at you, I feel nothing but the need to rip your clothes off.”

I narrow my eyes, searching hers for a bit of untruth. I find none.

“Satisfied?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“Lastly, we don’t discuss anything personal. We don’t talk about what our jobs are or where we live. We don’t do last names. You don’t introduce me to your friends. I don’t hear about your past girlfriends, and you don’t ask about my past lovers. We learn nothing about each other, except how you like to fuck me and what each other sounds like when we come. That’s it.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“Do you have any terms or requests?”

“Just one. That you remember the word red. It’s your safe word when you can’t handle the pain or the sex anymore, and you are going to need to use it.”

Her eyes deepen, and her lips curl up just a little at that thought.

“I don’t think there is anything you can do to make me use that word. But I’ll remember.”

My eyes scan hers. She’s been hurt. Really, really hurt. She wants me to take away her pain with more pain and sex. She’s right that it will help her for the week. I’m just glad I won’t be there when she goes back to her normal life and has to deal with whatever crap she is hiding from me.

“Food or sex first?” she asks.

I smirk. “I forgot one final rule. You want BDSM, right? You want me to tie you up, spank you, whip you—the whole package, right?”

She nods, her mouth open and panting.

“Then, you have to give up control. You do exactly what I say, when I say it. You don’t get to say no to anything. You just do without thinking. If it’s too much, you tell me red to stop. Otherwise, you don’t think for the rest of the week.”

“Exactly.”

My inner demon comes out the second she says that. She just gave me complete control over her body. And I plan on taking advantage of having that control.

“Excuse me,” one of the waiters says.

I exhale deeply. I’m pretty sure steam blows out of my ears from my pent-up anger with Bayron, but it is now getting directed at this new man who I won’t let cockblock me. Not now that I finally get her with no strings attached.

Skye gives the man an equally perturbed look. “What?” she snaps.

“I’m very sorry to interrupt you, but the captain’s cat we think is having a seizure or something. We can either turn back or you can—”

Skye sighs, getting up from the table, looking me dead in the eye. Then, she breaks her own rule, telling me something about herself. “I’ll take a look at the cat.”