I barely cracked open an eye. Faint hues of sunlight streaked in from the window, prodding me from sleep I didn’t want to be roused from.

I was too comfortable.

Too cozy.

Too warm.

A bit disoriented, I tried to stretch out my body.

My sore body that was wrapped up by a body so much bigger than mine, eclipsed where it was caged.

What the hell?

My head popped up two inches, considering I was pinned and couldn’t rise any higher.

Eyes widening, they wandered, trying to process my surroundings.

The expansive, masculine room.

A room with a view so dramatic it stole what little breath I had left.

But what was freaking me the hell out was the bed that was not my own.

And the man…

Oh. God.

The man who was spooning me from behind.

Spooning. Me.

In what crazy world did that happen?

My heart rate kicked up as memories of last night came barreling in.

Pinned against the wall.

Back arched as I begged.

A hot, hot mouth on my breast.

His throbbing cock in my hand.

Paxton Myles buried deep inside of me.

Stealing my breath.

Stealing my sanity.

Pulling the most mind-blowing pleasure from my body. Again and again.

Chills spread across my bare skin.

Never before had I experienced a night quite like it. The few boyfriends I’d had hadn’t even come close. Couldn’t have.

That would be an impossibility.

No doubt, this Hollywood god had ruined me for all men.

He’d given me a taste of fantasy when I knew I had to be stepping back into my reality.

The problem was, I wanted to stay there for a little while longer, which was exactly why I needed to get the hell out of there.

Holding my breath, I pried myself out from under his massive arm, careful not to wake him.

He rolled all the way onto his stomach, his ridiculously handsome face peeking out from the pillow, the curve of those full, red lips enough to send those butterflies in my body into a tailspin.

Flitting and fluttering.

My mouth watered as my gaze traced down, memorizing the strength of his wide shoulders and the defined cut of his slim waist.

A satiny sheet was pulled to above his hips.

But I knew firsthand what was hidden underneath.

The stark beauty of pure man.

Bold and big and powerful.

A shudder rolled through my senses, tingles ushered in by his phantom touch.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. Not after last night. Only Paxton Myles could bring another rush of pleasure from me while he was fast asleep.

I fought an affectionate smile as I looked down at him once more. Warmth welled in my chest as I tucked the memories inside. I would never forget the miraculous night this incredible man had offered me.

My Hollywood crush.

My free card.

Well, I guess that was that.

I’d cashed it in.

I allowed myself one last glance, a barely-there caress of my fingertips across those lips that last night had devoured every inch of my body, before I slipped from his bed.

Silently, I tiptoed across the cool, travertine floors, gathered my lingerie and wadded it at my chest as I stole out the crack in the door. I moved a little bit faster as soon as I hit the hall, even quicker as I slinked into my dress where it’d been abandoned on the floor.

I shoved my balled-up bra and panties into my clutch.

Classy.

I dug my phone out of my clutch, the battery low, but it at least had enough juice for me to hail an Uber.

Thank God.

Snatching my heels from the floor, I unlatched the front door lock, the straps of my heels wound through my fingers and swinging from one hand.

Harsh sunlight glared down, and I squinted against the intrusion. In the clarity of day, things became so much more obvious.

My disheveled appearance. The hair I was rockin’ screamed I’d just spent the entire night being completely and utterly ravaged. Smeared make-up.

I had to look like a train wreck.

My stomach twisted at the realization.

I was doing a straight up walk of shame.

Never before had I felt so exposed or on display.

Pulling in a stealing breath, I lifted my chin and marched down the long drive.

It was time to leave this night behind.

Toss a padlock on this sucker and let the weeds grow up around it.

Like a beautiful old house with the windows boarded up.

Buried but never forgotten.

Just distant memories that could never be reclaimed.

Ones that only I would ever know.

Because girls like me didn’t do these types of reckless things.

Like climb a freaking wrought-iron gate wearing this damned dress to even get out of the compound.

I was betting that was pretty.

I scoffed. Nothing but a poster child for elegance and sophistication.

Yeah right.

I dropped down on the other side.

As soon as I saw the small black sedan slow, looking for me, I all but ran for it.

Because I couldn’t stand to think of what I looked like right then for a second longer. I ducked into the backseat and breathed out a relieved breath.

The car flipped a U in the middle of the road, and I chanced looking back over my shoulder.

The tiniest flash of sadness swept through my senses.

No man had ever affected me the way Paxton Myles had. He had ruined me in the best of ways. I honestly doubted another could compare.

And there was just something about him...something more than that megawatt smile and his mind-blowing kisses.

But that was the thing about fantasies. You could only live in them for a little while.

Just before we rounded the curve, I whispered a silent goodbye to my one wild night.

* * *

I blew out a relieved breath and sagged against the inside of my front door, reaching back to lock it behind me. I tossed my keys to the small bowl on the entryway table, tossed my clutch behind, and plugged in my dead phone to recharge.

Forty-five minutes and an $80.00 fare later, I was home free.

My townhouse was small, and I walked through the cozy living room with the overstuffed couch and messy coffee table, the walls lined with books and pictures and knickknacks, as I made my way into my room and to my tiny en suite bathroom that wasn’t much larger than a closet.

Swanky, I know.

I turned on the shower full blast, relishing a calming breath as steam began to billow into the small room.

First order of business was ridding myself of the dress.

It pooled at my feet, and I kicked it aside where it was left in a heaped-up ball. I only felt the teeniest twinge of guilt for completely ruining Elle’s dress. One I could do without knowing the price tag of.

I hadn’t decided if she’d ruined my night or completely made it. I still hadn’t settled on whether to chew her out for not showing or to sing her praises.

I was sure what happened last night wouldn’t have happened had she been there.

I stepped into the warm spray. A tiny moan rolled up my throat as the pounding water began to ease my tight muscles, my hips perfectly sore from where Paxton had gripped them tight.

An ache of pure satisfaction throbbed between my thighs. An ache I secretly prayed would never go away.

I washed and rinsed, slowly dried and applied lotion, all the while allowing myself to savor the memories spinning through my head.

I bit my lip, fighting a blush when I thought of all the things we’d done. My face was flushed when I looked in the mirror, and I was betting it had zero to do with the hot shower I’d just stepped from and rather the unforgettable experience from last night.

Life was little more than a gathering of memories.

These were memories I was never going to let go of.

I slipped into a cozy pair of shorts and a tee, figuring after last night I was due a lazy day. I headed into the kitchen, made a piece of toast, and fiddled with my Keurig for a cup of coffee.

Once it was properly doused with sugar and creamer, I took a sip and bit into my toast, enjoying them both as I wandered back to the entryway and fired back up my phone.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

I frowned.

I had like a gazillion messages. Before I had a chance to check any of them, my phone began to ring.

Elle’s picture and name lit up the faceplate.

A grin split my mouth.

I swallowed around the toast I was chewing, quick to answer the phone, my tone playful and light.

Apparently, it hadn’t taken me all that much to decide which side I’d landed on.

I was thankful.

Thankful I got the experience.

The memories.

I wouldn’t trade them for anything.

“Hey, hooker,” I said, “You better have a good explanation for last night. For real…all the details, and they’d better be good.”

Knowing Elle, it would be all kinds of good.

Silence echoed from the other end, and then Elle’s voice came on, almost incredulous. “You’re seriously calling me hooker right now?”

I paused. Frowned. Confused. “What?”

“Hello pot calling the kettle black. Who are you and what did you do with my best friend?”

A twist of unease tightened in my chest. “What are you talking about?”

“Tell me you didn’t sleep with Paxton Myles last night.”

I gasped, my head shaking as I took a step back. “How…how…?”

“Oh, God.” The words were low, coated with worry. “Kay…you don’t know.”

That twist of unease grew into a cyclone of anxiety. “You’re freaking me out. Tell me what you’re talking about.”

Elle hesitated, then said, “I’ll be right over.”

“Elle,” I begged.

The line went dead.

I glanced at my phone. I had a ton of missed calls from my mom and my sister, not to mention the slew of texts from the two of them. That anxiety churned and twisted when I saw I’d also missed a bunch texts from a few of my co-workers and acquaintances from the school where I worked.

People I rarely, if ever, spoke to outside of school.

Dread balled at the base of my throat, and I shuffled into my living room. The sheer drapes pulled across the arcadia door glowed like fire. It cast the rest of the room in warm blues and bright shadows.

I leaned over the back of the couch and reached for the remote I’d left sitting on the seat cushion. My hands were shaking like crazy when I clicked on the TV that had been set to mute. Pointing the remote, I changed the channel, because even though I didn’t want to believe it, I knew.

I knew.

Still, I wasn’t prepared.

I wasn’t prepared in the least.

There were pictures.

Pictures in a little square box that kept popping up above the reporter’s head. Playing out on a reel. Paxton on the red carpet, looking like a million bucks as he flashed that megawatt smile. Another of him with his friend Philip.

But it was the ones of me that hooked my breath on the lump at the base of my throat.

The first was one of me walking the red carpet, looking so out of place, like a timid, plain mouse who’d lost her way. The second was a fuzzy shot taken in the hall outside the women’s restroom in the hotel, my back pressed to the wall where Paxton Myles’ big body concealed mine.

The reporter’s mouth moved a million miles a minute as he waved his hands in excitement, even though I couldn’t hear what he said.

Even if the volume had been turned up, I’m still not sure I would have heard. Because a low buzz started to hum in my ears, obliterating all senses except for what my eyes were forced to see.

Because the first two weren’t what brought on the rush of horror.

No.

It was the ones of me outside Paxton’s Hollywood Hills mansion from this morning. Shots of me as I strode down the drive through the slots of the wrought iron fence, though they somehow made me appear as if I was limping, my shoulders slack with shame.

There were more of me climbing up and jumping over the gate.

They’d obviously been snatched from a distance. The pictures were cropped to bring me nearer and were a little grainy.

But that didn’t matter.

Because they were so utterly clear.

My hair was even worse than I’d imagined, a matted mess on one side and poofed up on the other, my dress twisted and wrinkled, black mascara smeared around my eyes.

Barefoot.

For some reason, that seemed the worst.

Nausea swelled.

I didn’t know why, but there was something about it that made me look used up. Cheap and trashy.

I glanced back where my heels had been abandoned on the floor just inside my front door, toppled in a messy pile.

Why the hell didn’t I put on those damned shoes?

What had I done?

My phone rang again.

Almost numb, I lifted it to see who was calling. My mother’s sweet face was smiling back at me.

Without a doubt, she wasn’t smiling right now.

What had I done?

Knees feeling wobbly and weak, I mindlessly moved around to the front of the couch and sank down onto the cushions. In horror, I sat there and watched in silence as the same thing played out over and over again on my television, different reporters piping in, giving their own salacious opinion.

My private life nothing less than entertainment.

What had I done?

I dropped my face into my hands. I didn’t even realize I was crying until my shoulders started to heave up and down.

How much time had passed before there was banging on my door, I didn’t know, but I jolted with the impatient rattle of the knob, a key shoved into the lock.

The door flew open and knocked into the wall.

Warily, I looked that way over the back of the couch.

Elle stood there in all her glory, holding a big paper sack to her chest, my best friend a blur where I watched her through bleary eyes.

“Holy shit, Kay Kay. What have I always said? If you’re going to do it, do it big. You sure as hell knocked it out of the park.”

* * *

Elle emerged from my small kitchen wielding two glasses of red wine. She passed one to me. “To taking life by the balls and making it your bitch.”

My laugh was part incredulous, part scoff. “Pretty sure life’s making me its bitch right about now.”

“Pssh.” Elle waved the thought off and curled her legs up underneath her where she sat down next to me on the couch. She took a sip of her wine, narrowing her brown eyes as she searched my expression. “Don’t tell me last night wasn’t amazing. I mean, we’re talking Paxton Myles here. One of the most sought-after bachelors in all of Hollywood. And you snagged him.”

I lifted a brow. “Shagged, not snagged. He doesn’t belong to me.”

Elle almost spit out a mouthful of wine. She slammed her hand over her mouth to hold it in, laughing so hard I couldn’t help but laugh a little bit, too. She finally got the wine down, her words rambling out on jutted spurts of laughter. “Oh my God…did you actually just say shagged?”

I shrugged. “What?”

“It’s not 1950.”

I pointed at the TV that was, surprise, surprise, once again talking about Paxton and my illicit affair. “They sure seem to think so.” I scowled with a pout. “You’d think I stole Paxton’s virginity.”

Elle howled. “Yeah right. That boy has been around the block more times than I can count.”

Ouch. I chose to ignore the insinuation.

Elle gestured to the TV. “But you know how these assholes are going to play it… no name girl tries to sink her greedy claws into Hollywood heartthrob.” She touched her hand over her heart, the words dripping sarcasm.

“Oh, the scandal. The vultures are going to eat that one up.”

I cringed.

Vultures.

Just like Paxton had warned.

I guessed he’d been right all along.

Elle winced when she realized what she’d said. “Sorry. You know that’s not what I think.”

“I know that. But you know that’s what everyone else is going to think.”

She gave me a shrug and a lascivious grin. “Who cares what everyone else thinks? You got to shag Paxton Myles.” With a grin playing all over her mouth, she poked me in the side. “Tell me how it was…are the rumors true? Heard the boy is packed and he’s a king in the sack.”

I could feel the redness crawl to my cheeks. I shook my head, diverting. “Eww…Elle…so crass. And why don’t you tell me where you were last night?”

She scoffed. “Oh, no. You’re not getting out of this one. My pretty much prude of a best friend spent all last night doing all kinds of dirty, delicious deeds with the Paxton Myles. You can’t go and hook up with one of the hottest guys on the planet and not dish the details. That’s like…best friend foul number one. Don’t go and break my heart.”

More redness.

She prodded me again. “Tell me.”

“Okay, okay…he was…”

“Yes…?” she drew out.

I slanted my attention her direction, and my voice went soft. “He owned me, Elle.”

Elle’s expression did the same, and she tilted her head as she touched my hand. “Hey…are you okay? I know this has to be a lot for you. You’re not exactly the love ’em and leave ’em type. I’m honestly kind of shocked.”

Yeah.

So was I.

I dropped my gaze to watch the deep red liquid swirl in my wine glass. “I’ll be fine. It was just…it was supposed to be one night. Between him and me. Private. It was a big deal to me, and now the entire world is talking about it like it’s entertainment. It’s…embarrassing.”

Wrong.

Humiliating.

Mortifying.

I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide.

And people needed to learn to mind their own damned business.

She patted my knee. “It’ll blow over, Kay Kay. You’ll see. Give it a couple days and no one will even remember it. Paxton will be back to being a player, and you’ll be back to being the old schoolmarm who never sees any action.”

She winked at me, and I slugged at her arm. “That’s not nice.”

She rubbed her arm. “And that hurt.”

“Good.”

My phone lit up with another call from my mother, and I cringed as I held it in my hand, letting it ring until it went to voicemail.

Elle inclined her head toward it. “Seriously, Kaylee…give it a couple of days. It’ll all be good. I promise.”

I could only hope she was right.