I knocked on Ali’s door, holding my breath as she answered.

“Hi,” she said, and my mouth opened, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak. The dress she was wearing looked stunning on her—emerald green, the perfect color to bring out her eyes. At the same time, it draped over her perfectly, accenting the delicious, smooth curve between her small waist and her wide hips. I wanted to touch her all over then, to push her backward into her apartment and carry her into her bedroom. I wanted to strip that lovely green dress off of her and look at her face as I spent a long, long time eating her perfect pussy. Instead, I cleared my throat, finally dragging my eyes away from her body and up to her face.

“What do you think?” she asked, her cheeks flushed pink.

“You are perfect,” I said, meaning every word. “So beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she said, a sweet smile on her lips. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Thanks,” I said, offering my arm to her, guiding her over to the elevator.

“So what should I expect from this party?” she asked once we were in the car.

“Expect a few drunk people. A lot of drunk people. Folks kind of go crazy at these things.”

“Great,” she said. “Drunk models everywhere.”

I laughed. “There will be a lot of that.”

I saw her roll her eyes out of the corner of my vision and grinned at her.

“It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“It’d better be,” she said as we pulled up to the luxurious, opulent hotel where the party was being held. It was only ever the best for my people, especially my partner, Owen, who was obsessed with making the right impression. Owen thought that one of the most important things about our business was appearances, and with how successful we had become under his guidance, I was prone to believing him.

We got out of the car and I took Ali’s hand as we made our way inside. I watched as she looked around in wonder, drinking in the opulent décor of the old hotel, the rich, golden and marble walls and high ceilings. I guided her into the ballroom, where a live band was playing on stage. There were round tables set up all over where people were eating, drinking and talking to each other. Some were at the bar while others danced on the floor, swaying to slow music that immediately made me want to pull Ali against me and start moving to the rhythm. I decided to let her get a feel for the place first, though, knowing this wasn’t exactly her element.

Ali and I went to the bar and got drinks, and I watched as she sipped hers, looking around. I still couldn’t take my eyes off of her, despite the fact that we were surrounded by some of the most beautiful people in the country. It didn’t matter. To me in that moment, none of them were more beautiful than Ali, who was ample, full-figured, and gorgeous in the light there. She caught me staring at her and smiled, raising her eyebrows.

“What?” she asked. I opened my mouth to tell her again how beautiful she was but was cut off by someone walking up to us. I turned to see Owen standing there, his eyes on Ali.

“Hey,” he said, still looking at her.

“Owen,” I said, clearing my throat, wanting to snap at him to turn his eyes away. I didn’t like the way he was looking at her, with interest in his eyes. Ali smiled at him when he presented his hand to her to shake.

“Hello, Tyler,” he said. “How are you? Who is this ridiculous creature?”

“Ridiculous?” Ali asked with a giggle that made me tense. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Absolutely,” said Owen, winking at her.

“This is my neighbor Ali,” I said.

“The chef,” Owen said. “So delighted to meet you. I’ve heard great things about your cooking.”

“Have you?” Ali asked, glancing over at me.

“Not from him, no. All he ever talks about is work. From Constance Maybury. Have you seen her? She’s here somewhere.”

Ali’s face lit up in excitement. “No, I didn’t see her.”

“I’d love to talk to the two of you together,” Owen said. “I was thinking about a restaurant opportunity that I think you might be interested in.”

“Owen—”

“That would be great,” Ali said excitedly, glancing up at me. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

I nodded. “Sure.”

I watched then, noting that Owen put his hand on her waist, guiding her through the crowd. I saw her laughing at something he said and my jaw tightened. I took a sip of my drink, leaning against the bar. I couldn’t help but to watch them—my eyes naturally wandered to Ali no matter who I was speaking with, and I found that the jealousy was growing in me the longer they spent together. I realized then that my attraction to Ali was different—much more powerful than it ever had been with any other woman. I had never been this captivated before, this utterly overwhelmed with desire. It made me tense all over to think about, especially when I saw Ali with her hand on Owen’s arm, laughing as she talked with him and Constance Maybury.

I ordered another drink and walked around, mingling, talking to people and trying not to focus on Ali. I walked over to them casually after a few moments, and Ali met my eye with a smile before excusing herself to go to the restroom.

“How’s it going?” Owen asked, a big grin on his face.

“It’s fine,” I said stiffly. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“It’s pretty lively. I’d say it’s a successful party,” he said. I nodded, taking another sip of my drink, my lips pressed in a thin, grim line. I felt irritable as I looked around, and when I turned back to Owen, he was frowning at me.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I snapped. He stared at me for a moment.

“It’s the girl. Ali. Do you have something going on with her?”

I shook my head. “She’s nobody. Just one of the usual women.”

I noticed too late that his eyes had gone over my shoulder, and when I turned to look, I saw Ali standing behind me, her mouth open in surprise.

“Ali—”

She didn’t let me get the words out before she stormed off and through the ballroom, leaving me behind with Owen.