I slept better than I had in weeks, and I woke up glowing. At least, that’s what Lorna told me, accompanied by a wolf whistle.

“Damn, girl.” She gave me a once-over when I came out of the bathroom. “Did you get into my highlighter kit, because you are lit up!”

I laughed and chalked it up to a good night’s sleep, even though I knew that it was all due to Dash’s incredible tongue and fingers. Both of which I couldn’t wait to encounter again. And again. And again.

For the first time since I started this job, I headed to work feeling excited and ready to begin the day. Maybe it was because I was finally allowing myself to be excited about seeing Dash, instead of trying to ignore him and my hot, sexy feelings for him.

Maybe this wasn’t a completely reckless thing we were doing. Maybe Dash was right, and it was just the beginning.

The irony was that on the one day I wanted to see Dash, I was totally swamped and didn’t even catch a glimpse of him until the evening, after the latest elimination ceremony. We were now down to seven contestants, but all three of mine were still in the game—though I was noticing that Kimmie seemed to be getting the lion’s share of attention, leaving Savannah, and especially Jasmine, out of the spotlight.

But every time I tried to concentrate on work, I found my mind wandering back to the night before. To that amazing orgasm in the boat. And all I could think about was how I wanted more. More orgasms and more Dash.

It was risky, I knew that. I was putting a lot on the line for a hookup, but it was a hookup like I’d never experienced before. Everything about Dash turned me on, and I wanted him, but there was more than that, too. The more time I spent with him, the more layers he seemed to uncover. As we all headed back to the mansion after the ceremony, I was practically vibrating with anticipation, knowing that it wouldn’t be long until I’d be able to get him alone. And from the scorching hot looks he had been sending me all day, I knew he was thinking the same.

But when we got back to the mansion, Patrick was waiting with half a dozen older people, all of whom were dressed in very expensive clothing, the women wearing tons of jewelry. The women were all eying Dash like he was a dessert they couldn’t wait to get their spoons in. Jealousy surged through me.

“VIPs,” Lorna whispered in my ear as we walked past them. “From the network, all the big shareholders. Their wives like to come get a taste of the action—and drool over our suitor. Every year, like clockwork.”

I saw Patrick wave Dash over, and I tried not to stare as introductions were made.

“I’ve made us reservations at the best restaurant in the Hamptons,” Patrick was telling the group before shepherding them to the stretch limo parked in front of the mansion. “It will be a perfect time for us all to spend some quality time together—getting to know each other.” Somehow, Patrick managed to make every part of that sentence sound creepy.

Before Dash got in the limo, his eyes caught mine.

“Sorry,” he mouthed.

I shrugged, knowing there wasn’t anything that either of us could do about it. He disappeared into the limo, and I watched it pull away, trying not to feel disappointed. I wasn’t doing a very good job when my phone buzzed. It was a text from Dash.

I’ll call you when I’m free, he’d written.

My disappointment eased. A little.

I went back to the hotel with Lorna, who immediately took off to be with Justin. Slapping on a facemask and drawing a bath, I forced myself to relax instead of staring at my phone, waiting for it to ring.

It was past midnight when I finally heard from Dash.

Still at the dinner, he texted. Can’t get away. Talk tomorrow?

I agreed and put my phone away. That night of sleep was just as bad as all the others had been, my entire body aching for release.

* * *

I spent the next morning thinking of excuses to see Dash. One that would allow us to be alone. Unfortunately, I couldn’t think up one that didn’t sound completely transparent. Especially to someone as sharp as Andrea. She’d see through my excuse in an instant, and I really didn’t need that kind of attention right now.

It was another group date day, and this time everyone was going to learn how to cook Dash’s favorite meal in the tricked-out mansion kitchen, with a celebrity chef along for the ride. Steak and potatoes. Of course.

I was heading over to the tent when I walked by Patrick’s office. His door was wide open, and he was talking with Andrea and some other producers.

“I think we need to help Dash with his next elimination,” he was saying. “He’s not making good decisions for ratings.”

I stopped in my tracks. Even though I knew it was a bad idea to eavesdrop, I couldn’t help myself and hovered as casually as I could outside the door, pretending to be focused on something in my notebook.

“Kimmie is turning out to be a real star. The audience loves to hate her. Perfect contestant this season—a real MVP,” Patrick said. “And I think her and Savannah would make a great final two.”

“I agree,” Andrea said. “What about the others?”

“No one else is standing out,” Patrick noted. “We’re not getting the kind of drama we need. Time to trim the fat.”

“Of course,” Andrea agreed. “Any suggestions?”

“Jasmine is beautiful but boring,” Patrick stated. “Zero social media chatter. Unless she does something to make herself stand out, I say she’s the next to go.”

I didn’t wait to hear any more. It was true that Jasmine hadn’t done much in the way of drama, but I liked her a lot, and thought she was fun and savvy. Hurrying over to the makeup tent, I found Jasmine and pulled her aside.

“What’s up?” she wanted to know, looking absolutely beautiful in the cheesy faux chef uniforms they were making the girls wear.

Each had a chef’s hat and a jacket, except the jackets were cut into crop tops and paired with teeny tiny booty shorts. Not exactly the best thing to be cooking steak in, but what did I know?

“You want to make it as far as possible, right?” I asked her, keeping my voice hushed.

She nodded. “Of course. It’s the only way I’m going to get attention for another gig.”

“Then you need to amp up the drama,” I ordered. “You’re great, but you’re fading into the background. You don’t want that.”

Jasmine shook her head. “I really don’t.”

“If you can find a way to grab attention during the group date today, I say take it,” I told her. “Make yourself seen.”

Jasmine nodded, and I could practically see the wheels turning in her head.

“You got it,” she said with confidence.

Jasmine took my words to heart. The minute the group date started, the minute the cameras were rolling, she was charming like I’d never seen her before. She managed to get herself in the spot next to Dash, and kept leaning over, teasing him about the cut of his meat and the proper way to mash potatoes. Somehow, she managed to make the entire cooking lesson look fun and sexy, while some of the other girls ended up hot and wilted, with their chef’s whites covered in oil stains.

“I just love making things sizzle,” Jasmine said to Dash, her smile charming and seductive. It was a great sound bite, and I could see Andrea and the others eating it up. I was pretty sure that when Patrick saw the clips, he’d think twice about sending Jasmine home so quickly.

“Want a taste?” Jasmine was asking Dash, offering him a piece of what looked like perfectly cooked steak. “I love a man with a healthy appetite.”

Dash grinned at her, and I felt that uncomfortable twist of jealousy. I hated this. Hated that my job depended on making sure Dash paid attention to other women. Especially when it was women like Jasmine and Savannah who seemed to be genuinely nice, and who I wanted to help succeed. The whole situation was deeply fucked up, and by the end of the day, I was so sick of thinking about the whole thing. All I wanted was to find Dash and do naughty, naked things until I was unable to think about any of it.

But I still didn’t have an excuse to go see him.

Just as I was about to head back to the hotel, Andrea’s voice crackled in my ear.

“I need a PA,” she said.

I was tired, but no one else was responding, so I sighed and told her I was available.

“Come to Patrick’s office,” she ordered.

Ignoring my exhaustion and sexual frustration, I headed towards Patrick’s office. The door was open, and he was at his desk, Andrea behind him, watching dailies from the cooking group date.

“I think we might have been a little too hasty judging Jasmine,” Andrea was telling Patrick. “She really came alive in front of the camera today.”

“Agreed.” Patrick leered at the footage. “She’s as hot as that steak.”

I shook my head at the cheesy joke and cleared my throat as I knocked on the side of the door to indicate I was there.

“Paige.” Andrea waved me over. “I have an errand for you to run.”

“Great,” I said with fake enthusiasm. “Whatever you need.”

Andrea pulled out a thick envelope and handed it to me. “This is all the information for tomorrow’s group date. We’re going to be spending the day at the race track. It will give our suitor a chance to show off a little.”

Not like Dash needed an excuse to show off, but I couldn’t help being excited at the image of him behind the wheel of a fast car, tearing across the track. It had been hot enough watching him in the speedboat—I could only imagine how sexy it would be to see him in his element.

“We need you to take that over to Dash’s hotel room tonight,” Patrick ordered.

I couldn’t believe my luck. All day I had been looking for a reason to go to Dash, and now the production had literally handed me one.

“I’m on it,” I told them, hoping that I’d be on Dash as well.

But both Patrick and Andrea had turned their attention back to the footage, effectively dismissing me. I headed out of the office, trying to keep my pace steady and casual, even though I wanted to bolt for Dash’s room immediately.

Instead, I stopped by the makeup truck. Lorna had already left, so I snagged some lip gloss and a little mascara to freshen up before I headed over to the hotel. It didn’t do much to improve the wrinkled black clothes I was wearing, or my out-of-control hair, but it was something.

With the packet under my arm, I headed back to the hotel. It was the first time I’d be speaking to Dash since our sexy encounter in the boat. We’d seen each other across the set, and texted whenever possible, but conversation—especially the kind of conversation I was interested in having—had been virtually impossible.

As I reached his door, I found myself looking around as if I didn’t have a completely legitimate reason to be here in the first place. I was probably making myself look more suspicious rather than less. Still, I took a deep breath and knocked.

“Hold on,” I heard Dash say from inside his room, and as his footsteps approached I found that I was strangely nervous.

Tugging on my shirt, I tried to smooth out some of the dozens of wrinkles that were the result of living out of one’s suitcase. But before I could make any real difference, I heard the lock click, and the door swung open.

There was Dash, looking entirely too handsome for his own good. It looked like he had just stepped out of the shower—his hair damp, and his shirt covered in wet patches as if he had thrown it on. A real shame.

I was staring. But Dash didn’t seem to mind—smiling when my gaze finally reached his face. I blushed.

“Hi there.” He leaned one shoulder up against the doorjamb.

“I have something for you.” I held up the envelope.

He lifted an eyebrow. “Well, I suppose you’d better come in then.”

“I suppose I should,” I responded, my entire body getting all hot and bothered.

Dash stepped aside to let me enter, and the moment the door was shut, I found myself pressed up against it—Dash’s hard body against mine, his hot mouth against mine.

It was so good. My hand immediately went to his chest, smoothing over the rock-hard muscles beneath his tight white shirt. His hips were pressed against mine, and I could feel that he wanted me just as much as I wanted him, and the knowledge made me even hotter. Dash cupped my face in his hands, angling my head so he could deepen the kiss.

His tongue thrust into my mouth, and all I could think of was how good it had felt to have that tongue of his inside of me, and how badly I wanted other parts of him inside of me. The sooner, the better.

Using the door as leverage, Dash lifted me into his arms, urging me to wrap my legs around his waist so he could settle against me in a most delicious way—his hard cock pressing between my thighs.

God, I wanted him. I wanted this.

Rolling my hips, I felt him groan against my lips. Wrapping my other arm around his neck, I pulled him closer, completely forgetting that I was still holding the packet from Andrea. Unfortunately, I was holding it at a weird angle and the corner of it scratched against Dash’s neck.

“Ouch,” he murmured, pulling back for a moment. “What was that?”

“Oh, sorry.” I held up the envelope.

He smiled. “So you really did have something for me.”

I arched my hips forward. “A few things, in fact.”

He groaned again, and I leaned into him, pressing my mouth against his throat, dropping kisses down the side of it, my other, free hand, moving up along his ribs, lifting his shirt as I went. But before I could remove it, he was grabbing the envelope from my fingers.

“Hey!” I reached for it, but he held it up above his head. He was so tall that even with my legs wrapped around him, I couldn’t reach it.

“Don’t you think I should look at what you brought?” he asked, spinning me and carrying me over to the bed as if I was a bag of feathers.

He dropped me onto the plush mattress, and I sank in immediately. I grabbed for him, but he stayed on his feet at the edge of the bed, holding the packet in his hands.

“You’d rather look at that than at me?” I teased, sliding my hands up my sides, purposefully exposing my stomach and part of my bra.

I saw Dash’s eyes get hot, but he gave the envelope a playful shake, as if it was containing something that made a sound.

“I’m just curious.” He put his knee on the bed alongside my hip. “Clearly it must be something important.”

I reached for him, and this time he didn’t move away, allowing me to unbuckle his belt and slide my hand downward. I felt him hard and hot against my palm, and he let his eyes close as I stroked him, his hips jutting forward slightly with each gesture.

“I could just tell you what’s in there,” I told him.

“Mmhmm.” His head was back, pleasure evident on his face.

I sat up, coming up on my knees until we were facing each other, my hand still in his jeans, still stroking him, his hand coming to rest on my hip, his fingers digging in tight as I squeezed him.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he groaned.

I kissed his neck, loving the way he tasted of sweat and soap.

“All you need to know,” I told him between each pass of my lips, “is that tomorrow you’ll be going on a group date at the track.”

Immediately he stilled.

“What?” He pulled back.

I was surprised by the immediate change in his tone.

“They’re going to film you driving tomorrow,” I said. “A chance for you to show off,” I teased with a smile.

But Dash didn’t return it. His face went stormy, his eyebrows knitted together.

“Is something wrong?” I asked, sliding off the bed and coming towards him, but he stepped away. My stomach dropped. What was going on?

“This is bullshit,” Dash muttered, running a hand through his hair.

I didn’t know what to say, so I just stood there, watching him pace the room. Then, suddenly, he spun on his heels and faced me, his expression one of anger.

“What is wrong with you people?” he demanded.

I flinched. “You people?” I managed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“All you care about are ratings. You don’t give a rat’s ass about how somebody might feel about—” He stopped abruptly, and I could tell he had been on the verge of saying something he didn’t want to. I could practically see him shutting down right in front of me.

“Talk to me,” I urged, even though I was hurt by his words. “What’s going on?”

“Forget it.” He waved me away. “I’m out of here.”

Then, without another word, he zipped up his jeans, grabbed his jacket, and left me alone in his hotel room.