I slam the door so hard behind me I hear the frame splinter on impact.

After the dinner I just left, my blood is fucking boiling.

I’m on the edge of losing my temper—or maybe it’s already lost. I don’t know whether I want to put my fist through the wall of this luxury hotel suite or at Senator Price’s smug fucking face.

Either way, my clenched fists are gunning for a fight. The sharp edges of my car keys are digging into the callouses on my palm. If I clench my fist any tighter, I’m likely to break skin.

I loosen my death grip on them and exhale a hot, heavy breath.

In the next instance, those same keys are flying across the room. They leave a dent where they make contact with the wall.

I hate that this bastard is making me lose my shit. He isn’t fucking worth the energy.

But, Christ, nothing pisses me off more than a politician using his power to block progress. This isn’t just about me—this is about all of the people he’s putting out of jobs just because he fucking can.

I toss my wallet and cell phone on the glass table in the center of the foyer. A giant chandelier hangs above the table shining light that refracts off the glass table.

Somehow, that pisses me off, too. When I empty my pockets after a long day, I usually feel a lot more satisfaction than this.

My footsteps echo across the suite’s hardwood floors. The twin chandelier in the living room is turned on, bathing it in a golden glow.

Floor-to-ceiling windows consume the far wall providing a view like no other of the Washington D.C. skyline. Every room in this place looks like it has been pulled straight from one of those posh interior decorating magazines.

The entire suite exudes luxury in every sense of the word. Only a person with money and confidence can stand in this room and own it like they’re meant to be here.

All of it at the moment doesn’t mean shit to me right now, though.

The silk grey tie around my neck is starting to feel constricting. I tug on the knot. The whisper of cloth loosening is barely audible over the low growl in my throat.

Fucking senator with a stick up his ass. He’s screwing me over and he knows it.

All I had needed was for the bastard to issue the permits I asked for. My company—among other things—is a pioneer for commercial space travel, but we can’t legally launch without his go-ahead.

Without his support, there won’t be a launch. No launch, no chance of shooting the company to the next level. We’ll be cut from the corporate space race before we even get to the starting line.

I start pacing. The ends of my tie swing against my chest.

Price had brushed me off during the entire dinner. He doesn’t take me seriously, and he wanted me to know it.

Bastard had kept making snide comments about my life. Things like how I’m too busy being balls deep in pussy to focus on work. He said he wasn’t sure he could consider me reliable and dependable if I focus so much time and energy on partying all the time.

He had even gone so far as to question my overall character and work ethic.

“You know, Mr. Sterling, I see the news about you,” Senator Price had griped at one point during dinner. “Rich playboy with a new woman on his arm every week. Always out and about. I’m not sure if I see you running a successful business in the future if you keep doing what you’re doing—and I’m not the kind of man looking to be professionally associated with your indiscretions.”

It’s bunk. He was bullshitting, and we both knew it.

I work my ass off every day of every week. I’m up at the ass crack of dawn and up into the late hours of the night while that fucker is probably snuggled up in bed by eight.

God, I hate politics. There are few people more deplorable than the pricks that are in office. If there was any way to get the permits without the aid of Senator Price, I would definitely go that route.

So what if I enjoy sleeping with different women? Variety is the spice of life. It keeps things interesting and fun.

I have a type, of course. What man doesn’t?

My type are blonde virgins—never the same one twice if I can help it—and the Senator’s type likes sex in the missionary position with the lights off.

It’s all personal preference, of course. But for me? I make ensure that the women I share my bed with don’t think they have a chance at tying me down.

If anyone’s going to tie someone down in my bedroom, it’s me.

As for them needing to be virgins? Well, that’s me providing a civic duty to the fairer sex.

Nothing worse than your first sexual experience being awful and uneventful. I make sure their first time is pleasurable and exciting. I’m a gentleman, and I give as good as I take.

Senator Price, on the other hand, doesn’t see my way of life in such a positive light. All he sees is black and white. He could probably benefit from getting laid more than once every five years.

That’s probably how often he gets a chance to have sex. He’s likely jealous of the fact that my sex life is way more active than his.

Either way, he’s too blinded by his uptight views of how life should be and how people should act to do his fucking job.

Launching this rocket could change everything for the company—and for the world.

But thinking about all of this is doing nothing but driving my frustration up further.

Normally, work would take my mind off this disaster of a night I just had. At least for a little while.

I need something more, though.

Work would just stress me out right now.

What I need is a woman.

Someone sweet and innocent and looking for a good time.

A woman to pamper and spoil and make mine…for tonight.

I need a virgin, and I need her now.

I call in my butler—yeah, you read that right.

If have the money for this damn hotel, I definitely have enough money to have a butler on hand. The perks of being a rich bastard, right?

It’s not that I can’t take care of shit myself, but I’m a busy man. Having him around to handle the little things frees me for more pressing matters.

I have a company to run, and that takes time and effort. No matter what that asshole of a Senator may think, I do spend a majority of my time dedicated to my work—not just fucking women.

“Yes, sir?” the butler asks once he enters the room.

“I need you to make a call for me. Call my dealer. Same thing as usual. Blonde, virginal…someone a little classier this time, I think.”

“Right away, sir.” He stands there for a split second and analyzes me. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Sterling?”

I must look like a fucking mess if he’s asking me that.

Catching a glimpse in a mirror on the far wall, I can see that I look nothing like the suave, collected businessman I was before dinner.

My tie is still hanging around my neck, undone. My suit jacket is unbuttoned, revealing a slightly wrinkled white dress shirt. My hair is sticking up from running my fingers through it in frustration one too many times.

I look like hell.

Just another thing to blame on Senator Price. My frustration is spilling out, and it’s showing. I look rough enough that even my butler is concerned.

“No—nothing else. Just get the dealer on the phone and get me what I want.”

He leaves. With his departure, I know I’ll have what I want soon. The anticipation is already building inside me.

If I can’t get everything I want tonight, at least this is a guaranteed win.

I make my way to the mini bar and pull out a glass. There’s a crystal decanter filled with dark amber scotch. It splashes into the glass like liquid luck.

The scotch leaves a trail of warmth all the way down my throat.

I stare back out the windows to the city.

There has to be some way to convince the Senator to give me the permits.

He may disapprove of me, and I sure as hell don’t like his ass either. But this isn’t about making friendship bracelets and braiding each other’s hair. This is business and politics.

There’s no way in hell I’m giving up that easily.

I’m not a damn quitter, and I always get what I want one way or another.

A few ideas come to mind. Nothing solid though.

I need some space from this problem. My best ideas come when I’m not thinking about them at all.

I pull out the desk chair to sit down. Then, I power up my laptop.

Work is the only distraction I have right now.

Soon though, I’ll have a new woman in my bed to enjoy and please.

I smile as I see the main screen light up on the laptop.

The room is soon filled with nothing but the sound of my fingers flying across the keyboard.

“I’ve pulled the car around, sir,” the butler comes in and tells me. “Our dealer informs me that you’re welcome to make your selection now.

I’m hard just thinking about her. My new little virgin is out there and doesn’t even realize the mind-blowing night she’s about to have.

I’m going to make her remember every fucking minute of it.