What in the world was I allowing this man to do to me? Every time I tried to shut him down, he just shot me that smirk that had my stomach doing three-sixties.

Complete flip-flops, pulled in one direction only for my defenses to go careening the opposite. Shoving him off only to be right back where I started—staring up into the mesmerizing, playful eyes I couldn’t help but want to get lost in.

“I guess I could stay for one more drink,” I found myself saying, knowing it was such a stupid, bad idea, but unable to resist the charm that was this man.

What could one drink hurt?

“I’ll talk to you later, Mrs. Ward,” I said, and she gave me a look that both told me to have fun and warned me all the same.

Paxton threaded his fingers through mine.

Oh my God.

It was then I was certain one drink could cause all kinds of mayhem. That every second spent in the presence of this man was a hazard. I had completely underestimated his draw. Because with just that innocent touch, my heart raced and sped, just as fast as the tingles that spread up my arm.

Lord, help me.

Like a love-struck fool, I trailed him across the extravagant space. Every movement he made was filled with confidence and ease. The man owned the room. Heads turned in his wake. Clearly, everyone was just as compelled by him as me.

But it was the curious glances cast my way that had me ducking my head, tucking my chin to my chest.

The last thing I needed was to be the target for some misconstrued gossip.

I followed him to the long, darkened bar, the large bottles of expensive liquors illuminated by white neon lights that reflected against the mirrored glass of the back-bar that rose high above the bartender.

A bartender who, of course, wore a long sleeved white button down and black vest.

It was all so very Hollywood chic, and again I was wondering how in the world I’d found myself in this position.

His voice was low at my ear. “What would you like to drink?”

“A Riesling would be nice.”

He turned to the bartender. “Riesling for the lovely lady. Whiskey for me.”

The bartender poured our drinks, and Paxton passed mine to me. He lifted his tumbler with a subtle tilt my direction, our glasses clinking as he made a toast. “To this magical, unforgettable night.”

His words were packed with innuendo, and I nearly choked as I took a sip of my wine. A blush I couldn’t fight streaking everywhere, this unfound attraction spreading far and fast.

Stupid girl.

Casually, he set his hip against the bar. “So, tell me, Kaylee Rose, how is it you know Eleanor Ward and her family? You seem a little…out of place.”

I felt my brow draw. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I wanted to be offended, but his observation wasn’t any different than what I’d been thinking all night.

He chuckled, the sound so seductive all those secret places inside me clenched with desire.

Damn him.

He edged closer, and when he spoke, his breath washed over me like a delicious breeze. “Oh, come on, beautiful girl, there’s no need to play coy. You’re much too sweet to belong in the midst of all these vultures. They’d rip you to shreds.”

Arching a brow, I leaned back and met his eyes. “Vultures? You mean vultures like you?”

He laughed, deep and low, the man encroaching into my space, towering over me as he dipped his nose to run it along my hairline and down to my ear. “I’d gladly tear you apart, Kaylee Rose. But I promise you, it will be in the very best way. So good, in fact, you’ll be begging me to do it again and again.”

Shivers skated along my flesh.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

There was no question in my mind he’d make good on his promise.

A dangerous, dangerous fantasy.

That’s what this was.

Too close for comfort.

I cleared my throat. “Elle and I were roommates during our first year at UCLA.” Affection laced with irritation filled up my tone. “She’s definitely from a different world than I am.” I gave an offhanded, helpless shrug. “But somehow, we became best friends through it all.”

He raked his teeth over his bottom lip. “Opposites do attract, and all of that.”

Yep.

More innuendo.

And again, I felt shaky and itchy, wanting to lean forward to inhale the essence of his man, all the while wanting to run before I fell into his trap.

Right then, running sounded like the best plan.

I stepped back and downed my wine, set the glass on the bar. “If you’ll excuse me.”

I rushed for the hallway and into the ladies’ restroom, pressed my hands to the counter, and stared at myself in the mirror as I tried to calm my rapid breaths.

Paxton Myles was so absolutely right.

I didn’t belong here.

I was out of place. Ignorant. Just begging to be slaughtered. But it wouldn’t be at the hands of anyone else at the after party.

It would be at the hands of a man who was far too appealing for my own good. He’d use me up and spit me out, and I’d be left with memories I wasn’t sure I could handle.

I pushed out a breath, gathered my composure, before I dug into my small handbag and pulled out my phone so I could call for an Uber.

I had to get out of here before I completely fell prey to the man’s charms.

Five minutes the app promised. Five minutes, and I’d be safely tucked away in a car that would carry me out of this fantasy world and set my feet firmly back into my reality. Where I was plain and ordinary and didn’t draw the attention of movie stars who could snap their fingers and have any woman they wanted begging at their feet.

Where I lived a simple life teaching the kids I loved and didn’t attend movie premiere after parties.

Where I was safe.

And safe was where I wanted to be.

Sucking in a breath, I drew open the door and stepped out into the hall dimmed with shadows and the echo of the party happening at its end.

But in it, the presence was profound. Something great and intense. The breath I’d sucked in left me on a whoosh when I was suddenly pinned up against the wall by a big body.

So warm.

Overpowering.

Gorgeous.

Fingertips trailed along the slope of my neck, and my heart shuddered and shook, my pulse erratic as I looked up at the man staring down at me. “Are you okay?”

His worry took me by surprise.

But more surprising was the answer that popped up in my head.

No.

I was definitely not okay. This man had managed to knock me from my axis. He was making me want things I would never allow myself to have.

“Why would you think I’m not?” I asked instead, caught off guard by his concern.

In a flash of that playful mischief, a smirk pulled at one side of his mouth. “Oh, I don’t know…a gorgeous woman suddenly runs into the restroom to remove herself from the unwanted advances of a man. It sounds like Ditch the Douchebag 101 to me. And that’s not a label I take so kindly to.”

It was all a tease wrapped up in what I was sure was true concern, those brown eyes deep and dark and intent.

I swallowed around the lump in my throat, my eyes blinking through the cloud of confused attraction. “You make my head spin,” I answered in all honesty.

He backed me up farther, my body plastered to the wall, his hot as hell body pressed against me.

My thighs shook when I felt his length pleading at my belly, heavy and hard and more prominent than any wild fantasy I could have conjured.

Desire surged, and I had the overwhelming urge to press my hands to his chest, to his cock, to let them explore and trace and discover.

He dipped his head, his mouth an inch from mine. Hovering. Wavering. His lips a mere breath away from becoming a kiss.

His voice dropped so low, it shook through me like a tremor. “And what I want is to make your body sing.”

“I don’t do this,” I whispered, feeling everything caving in around me. My willpower and self-control.

“Don’t do what?” he asked even lower.

His lips just brushed mine when he spoke.

Fire.

Trembling, I forced out the words. “One night.”

It was the truth. I’d never just fallen into a man’s bed. Had never allowed a complete stranger to touch me.

But maybe that was the most dangerous thing about Paxton Myles. He didn’t feel like a stranger. His face so familiar, his over-the-top world shoved in our faces in magazines and movies and the tabloids.

The fantasy.

Paxton growled, his big hands cradling me at the sides of my neck. “Who said anything about one night?”

I almost released the incredulous laugh bottled in my chest. But I was too busy getting lost in his gaze to chastise him for alluding to things we both knew would be nothing less than a lie.

Because we both knew exactly what this was.

Those eyes searched my face, and his tongue darted out, swiping across his full bottom lip.

My lips parted on a sigh. There was nothing I could do to stop it from happening.

Nothing I could do to stop his kiss when his mouth fell against mine.

Because I didn’t want to. Didn’t want to resist.

His lips were soft at first, teasing caresses that sent a rush of chills scattering through my insides. He flicked my bottom lip with his tongue. Warm and soft and wet.

I opened to him, let him draw me closer as he kissed me deeper. Our tongues were a tangle of exploration.

And want.

Hot.

Unrelenting.

Ruthless.

He took, and I so willingly gave.

My phone rang in my purse, jarring us out of the rapture.

He jerked back.

His expression was enough to steal my breath.

The man was so insanely gorgeous.

Larger than life.

Adored by millions.

And he was looking at me in awe.

In lust.

As if I was the only thing he could see.

“My Uber is here.” The words were clogged with my own desire as I forced them out.

He gripped me tighter, his words a rasp. “Come home with me.”

A weighted moment spun around us.

My indecision snagged and snarled with the abounding lust.

“Okay.”

Wait, what?

I had to be insane.

A needy sound rumbled up his throat, and he dipped down, kissed me again.

This time hard and quick.

Possessive.

With a promise.

Then my hand was back in his. “This way,” he said.

He hauled me down the hall in the opposite direction of the party. The man clearly knew his way around as he quietly latched open a door and slipped us into the silence of a large storage room.

A gasp shot from me when he suddenly spun me around and pressed my bottom up against a table, his kiss verging on mad as he searched me in the dark, hands slipping down my sides and grazing across my breasts.

My stomach flipped and my heart rate kicked.

His touch elicited a moan from deep within me.

So easily.

“Oh, the things I’m going to do to you,” he whispered in the dark. Then, just as fast, he was dragging me deeper into the room and ducking us out through a back door and into the Hollywood night.

Cool air brushed my overheated skin, and those anxious nerves zipped through my veins, my breaths short and ragged as he snuck us around the building, careful to keep us concealed in the shadows.

He glanced around, checking that we were in the clear, before he tightened his hold on my hand and rushed us toward a limo.

He yanked open the door. “In.”

I didn’t hesitate. I just jumped inside, and he was sliding in beside me with a flirty smirk on his face as he slammed it shut behind us.

He lowered the privacy glass. “My house,” he threw out like an order before he closed it.

He cut his gaze toward me where I sat pinned against the far seat, squirming beneath the intensity.

His expression?

This time his expression was predatory.

He shifted on the long leather seat, crouching down on his knees where he moved to plant both hands on either side of my hips. “Hang on tight, Kaylee Rose.”

At his words, desire throbbed between my thighs.

His eyes darkened with lust.

Because we both knew it.

What I was giving myself over to.

What I was surrendering.

Giving what this beautiful man was all too willing to take.

One. Wild. Night.