Spending the day with Emalee had been a terrible idea.

If I wasn’t attracted to her before, I sure as hell was now.

Tackling her into the water, feeling her lithe body twist and turn in my arms… Damn. My desire for her had raged right to an obvious indication that even she could feel.

Then seeing her emerge from the pond, wearing see-through white and dripping wet, her clothes slick against her small, curved frame…

It was enough to drive me – and any man, for that matter -- wild.

I was just as surprised as she was when I blurted how much I wanted to take her for my own right then and there. Shit, I really needed to watch my tongue.

Still, as she took her shower, I couldn’t tear my mind off her. She bit her bottom lip anytime she felt defiant to my demands and taunts. It was the most irresistible thing to watch and it turned me on as fast as the flip of a switch.

Later that night, after Emalee went to bed, Cory approached me as I lounged on the plush couch, lazily flipping through TV channels.

He sat next to me with a sigh and rubbed his forehead. “I’ve really been a dick to Emalee,” he said.

I raised my eyebrows. “Ya think?”

“I don’t really want to lose her,” he admitted, staring blankly at the TV as I continued to switch channels. “What I told you earlier was mostly true – of course I want to fuck around, have a one-night stand once in a while. But I still want Emalee. I’m just not sure how to get her to stick around. She’s different from the other girls.”

I finally switched off the TV. Nothing good was playing, anyway. “For a start, maybe don’t be so clingy and actually let her travel,” I said, turning to face him.

He winced. “I can’t do that.”

“Why the hell not?”

He scowled. “Because I don’t really trust her,” he said. “All the girls I’ve known were whores. I don’t want to find out she’s the same way by fucking some guy on one of her trips.”

His logic shocked me. “Okay,” I said, leaning forward. “That’s a big boyfriend no-no. I’m no expert, but even I can tell you long-term relationships need trust. And so what if she plays around with some other guys? You cheated on your past girlfriends all the time.”

Cory stared at me, his hazel eyes narrowing. “I’m the billionaire. I can do whatever the fuck I want. But Emalee…. I want her to be mine and mine alone.”

I shook my head. “You’re not long-term relationship material, mate. Maybe it’s best if you just let her go.”

Cory set his jaw stubbornly. “No. She’s gorgeous and kind and doesn’t want me for my money. It’s refreshing. I need her to stay with me.”

His possessiveness was striking the wrong chord in me. “Cory, I think you need to see a therapist,” I said. “Just because you make billions doesn’t mean you get to be a shitty, clingy boyfriend.”

“Tristan,” he said, leaning back and flinging an arm over the back of the sofa. “I’ve learned that when I want something, I can take it. I want Emalee. It’s a severe blow to my pride that she’s initiated a break with me.”

I didn’t reply as my insides boiled with his pompous attitude. Cory always was the favorite in my family. They would give him whatever he wanted as a child. That spoiled kid had turned into a real piece of work.

Cory looked at me. “I wanted to ask you a favor.”

I tensed, knowing this didn’t bode well. “What is it?” I asked.

“I promised I would take Emalee to The Phantom of the Opera tomorrow night,” he said. “The only problem is… I’ve been called away for business. I leave early tomorrow morning to catch a flight and won’t be back until the next day – Thursday.”

I sucked in a breath. “You’d better cancel that flight, Cory, otherwise you’re not getting her back.”

“That’s where you come in,” he said. “I knew you arriving here had to be some kind of blessing in disguise.”

I snorted. So much for brotherly love.

“Pretend to be me tomorrow,” he said, his eyes locked on mine.

I barked out a laugh. “No way! You’re supposed to establish trust, remember?”

“Tristan, please,” Cory said. “Just… take her to the play. Maybe dinner. Just… try to salvage my relationship with her, would you?”

I was about to decline, but the implications settled on my mind. Emalee and I alone for an entire day….

“What if she wants to have sex?” I asked with a sly smile.

Cory rolled his eyes. “I doubt she will. We’re on a break. But if you are that good, and it will save my relationship with her…” He paused. Rubbed at his temples. “Then I suppose you’ll have no other choice but to sleep with her.”

My grin stretched wide. Yahtzee.

“What do I get out of helping you out?” I asked coyly.

“Nothing,” Cory grunted, standing from the couch. “But if you don’t take her, I’m kicking you out and you can find your own lodging.”

His threat blared in my mind. All I could think about was Emalee – the curve of her breasts, the pinch in her waist, her slender neck… it could all be mine tomorrow. And Cory was giving me permission. It was an offer I couldn’t refuse.

“You’ve got a deal,” I told him before standing from the couch.

I retreated to my room, thinking of all the dirty things I could do to her. What pleasant sounds could I elicit from her throat? How sweet would her lips taste against mine?

The thoughts consumed my brain as I laid in bed that night, letting myself grow hard as I played out various fantasies in my head.

Tomorrow alone could make this entire New York trip worth it.

I woke to three text messages, all from the same number.

Hey, I didn’t hear back from you. I understand you’re busy.

I saw on your Insta that you’re in NYC! I just landed there this morning! Let’s meet up.

Are you ignoring me? I don’t like being ignored…

I could smell crazy ten miles away, and this chick… was definitely crazy. I ignored the texts, hoping this girl would drop it.

An hour later, I gave myself a final glance at the mirror.

My jaw was freshly shaven, smooth as a babe’s butt. I had trimmed up my own hair so it was closer to Cory’s length. I even went as far as to root around his closet for a dress shirt and tie.

Satisfied, I left the apartment, wandering towards McLaughlin Books, where I knew Emalee was currently working.

On my way there, I stopped by a small flower shop. It was cliché, but then again, she dreamed of going to Paris. How much more cliché can you get?

I ordered a summer blend of flowers neatly tied up in a fetching bouquet and a dozen chocolate covered strawberries.

McLaughlin Books was a charming little bookshop nestled between a coffee shop and Hallmark store. The location couldn’t be more ideal.

I took a deep breath, adrenaline spiking. I was going to have fun with this. The bell hanging above the door rang as I entered.

A woman with graying blonde hair looked up from the register. Her grin widened when she saw me. “Cory,” she exclaimed. “What a pleasant surprise.”

Was I supposed to know this woman?

“Emalee,” she called. “Come look who’s here.”

“Just a sec, Mom,” Emalee’s voice responded from somewhere in the back of the store.

I stepped deeper inside. “How’s business treating you today?” I asked her mother politely, throwing her a dashing smile. I had no idea what Cory was like around her mom. This was a curveball I hadn’t been expecting.

“Well, summer tends to see a dip in sales, but it’ll pick right up as soon as the holidays roll around,” she said. Her eyes nearly crinkled closed with her smile. “Emalee will be so happy to see you,” she said.

Damn. Did Cory never visit Emalee at work? Somehow, this didn’t surprise me. The little bookshop was too beneath a billionaire.

Emalee entered the room and froze when she saw me. Her eyes wandered to the bouquet and chocolate in my hands.

And shit she looked like a fucking summer fairy in her little yellow-striped dress. It brought out the sprinkle of freckles on her cheeks.

“What’s going on, Cory?” she asked. She was suspicious... Already.

I extended the flowers. “Wanted to take some time off work to see you,” I told her with a subtle wink. “Have you had lunch?”

She shook her head, pink highlighting her cheeks. She turned to her mom.

She waved her off. “Go! I can handle the store until you get back,” she said with a playful smile.

I extended my arm, and she took it, a light smile playing on her lips. “Can we go to Oldman’s?” she asked.

“Oldman’s?” I repeated.

“Yeah. My favorite bakery. You used to get me cherry pastries there all the time.” She looked up at me with a tender smile.

Damn. What I wouldn’t give to actually be Cory right now. The guy didn’t know how lucky he had it.

“Of course,” I told her. I leaned in to whisper, “You look beautiful.”

Her eyes met mine. “Thank you,” she said softly.

We entered Oldman’s and the scent of freshly baked bread and cinnamon pastries assaulted my senses.

Emalee ordered a combo of half a summer berry salad and half a BLT and I ordered a roast beef sandwich.

After receiving our food, we sat outside, enjoying the warm sun and tantalizing breeze. I closed my eyes, briefly, imagining the roar of the ocean as it crashed against peppery sand…

“So how come you didn’t tell me about Tristan?” Emalee asked.

I opened my eyes. Emalee’s smile had turned serious. “It slipped my mind,” I said, cramming a large bite of sandwich in my mouth.

“That’s a big thing to forget,” she said.

I really didn’t want to get into a Cory/Emalee fight. “I’m sorry,” I said, because I wasn’t sure if Cory had apologized yet. If Emalee was bringing it up, I assumed he hadn’t. “I should have let you know. It was my mistake and not fair to you.”

I fed her all the typical apologetic phrases. She seemed to buy into them. “It’s okay,” she said. “I just wish we could have some better communication, you know?”

I nodded, feigning concern. “I completely agree,” I said. I reached for her petite hand and gave it a squeeze. “We’ll talk about it tonight, okay, love?” I winced.

She didn’t seem to catch on to the pet name I’d tacked at the end of my sentence.

“Sure,” she said with a sigh.

“Speaking of tonight…” I said. “Are you looking forward to Phantom?”

Her green eyes brightened. “Yes!”

“It starts at 7:30. We should leave the apartment by six. Sound doable?”

She nodded, piercing a forkful of vegetables. Her smile grew suddenly, and her eyes lit with excitement. “You know the original author of Phantom of the Opera based it on a true story, right?”

I listened, rapt at the way her voice flowed, rising and falling in pitch and volume as she explained the underground lake under the Paris opera house and the mysterious disappearance of so-and-so and how “the chandelier really did fall and kill someone in the late nineteenth century.”

I wasn’t into the history. I wasn’t into the literature or the themes or the legends.

I was into her. She talked for the rest of her lunch break, and I walked her back to the bookstore.

She was alight with the excitement for the coming evening. “Thanks for stopping by,” she said as we reached the front of the store. “And… thanks for listening to my ramblings. It must have been torture not reaching for your phone.” She laughed, nervously.

I instantly recognized her tone, the sudden nervous twisting of her hands.

She was insecure.

She’d opened up about something she was passionate about, and now she felt guilty, afraid she had bored me or pushed me away somehow.

I gave her hand a squeeze. “I just like seeing you happy,” I told her, and realized my statement was sincere. Her smile brightened, and she stood on her tip toes, reaching up to plant a warm, soft kiss on my lips.

It took me by surprise. She broke away quickly, turning to go back inside the store, but I grabbed her arm and twisted her back.

I firmly pressed my lips against hers, every fiber in my being pulsing with the desire to feel her skin touching mine.

She hesitated, and for a second, I thought she would pull away.

She leaned into my touch, her arms wrapping around my neck. I felt the pleasant curve of her body as she pressed against me.

Fuck, I wanted her. I wanted to make love to that bright smile and shapely body for hours, drunk in her embrace, her warmth, the slow, pleasurable thrills….

She pulled away, blinking hard. “We’re still on a break,” she reminded me.

“I know.” I smiled, risking a small grab at her ass. “I’ll see you tonight,” I promised.