One Wild Night (Hollywood Chronicles #1)(10)

“Would you like a drink?” I ask as I reach for the bottle of whiskey I had just poured from a few short hours ago.

“Champagne would be nice,” she says softly. Kaylee's eyes flit around the back of the limo, taking in all the lights and knobs, while I get her a drink. “Do you always have a driver?” she asks, looking out the window.

I pause, wondering if she's serious. When she turns back to me and her innocent blue eyes meet mine, I know she is.

“No, Kaylee.” I tilt her champagne glass as I carefully pour the bubbly. “Only for special occasions. I typically drive myself everywhere I need to go.”

Her eyes twinkle under the lights, and her lips twist into a smile.

“I'm a normal guy. I do my own laundry and grocery shopping. I even open my own mail.” I wink at her and hand her the glass of champagne.

I can see her visibly relax, and she settles into the soft leather seat. Her voice is gentle and smooth. “It's so beautiful up here,” she says, her eyes fixed out the window at the winding streets we're climbing.

Most of the houses in the Hills have been bought and renovated or torn down and rebuilt into sprawling estates. The city lights of Los Angeles can be seen for miles up here, making the view priceless—one of the reasons I bought my house here in the Hills and not near the beach.

“It is,” I reply. “It's my favorite part of the city.”

“I can see why,” she sighs, taking another sip of champagne. The limo slows, and I lower the privacy glass to give the driver the gate code so he can pull into my drive.

“Is this your house?” Her eyes widen as we pull into the drive way.

“It is.”

She nods her head and smiles as we pull up the long drive.

“Not what you expected?” I ask her, and she turns to me.

“Not at all.” She shakes her head a little. “It's stunning, but it's…” She purses her lips and scrunches her brows together. “I don't know, it's so normal looking.”

I let out a laugh at her observation. I had this four-thousand square foot ranch-style home built a year ago. The outside is very understated to say the least, a single-story, modern ranch-style home…one you could see in any neighborhood in America. However, the inside is where the goods are.

“I like it,” she says, not sure if she's talking to herself or me. As the limo stops on the large circular drive, the driver opens the back door, and I slide out first. I wait for Kaylee to appear, and I reach for her hand, helping her out.

Sliding my hand into hers and, with a wave, I send the driver on his way.

Just inside the front door, Kaylee kicks off her heels and literally moans in relief when her feet hit the floor. “I've been wanting to do that all night,” she says, wiggling her toes. Her head is tipped back, and her eyes are closed as she relaxes.

Without a second thought, my hands find her soft cheeks, and I pull her to me, pressing my lips to hers. Soft and sweet, she tastes like everything I imagined she would. “And I've been waiting to do that again.”

She hums against my lips as I deepen our kiss. Our connection is palpable.

“Pax,” she mumbles as I walk her backward down the hallway. Every inch of my body is aching to touch hers. I feel like a dick for not even offering to give her a tour of my place or offer her a bite to eat. But I cannot wait another second to get my hands on Kaylee.

“Mmhmm,” I respond.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“More sure than I've ever been about anything in my life.”

“Why me?” She stops us dead in our tracks. We stand in the dark hallway just outside my bedroom.

“Because when something you didn't realize you were looking for falls into your lap, literally…”—I chuckle—”…and it feels, right? You don't let it go.”

“Right?” she questions.

“Yeah. I can't explain it.” I shrug. “It just feels right.”

She presses her hands to my chest and over my shoulders, pushing my tuxedo jacket off my shoulders and down my arms, letting it fall to a pile at my feet.

“Don't move,” she says quietly, tugging on my bowtie and tossing it to the floor with the jacket. My cock is rock hard and pressing against my pants, begging for release.

“Kaylee,” I begin to warn her. When her palm brushes against the front of my cock, it instantly silences me. She can see her effect on me and plays into it. Her fingers work quickly as she yanks my tuxedo shirt from my pants and unbuttons it, disposing of the crisp white shirt on the floor alongside my jacket and tie.

“My turn.” I stop her, pinning her against the wall with my hips. Two can play this game. Only she pushes back—hard—and shoves me against the opposite wall.

“No. If we're doing this, I'm calling the shots.”

Fucking bossy little minx.

Every ounce of self-control I had is gone. One hand pressed firmly on my chest to hold me in place, she uses the other to unfasten the belt and button on my pants.

“Kaylee,” I warn her again when her fingers brush against my dick.

“Pax,” she warns back as she slips her hand inside my boxer briefs grasping me.

“Jesus,” I hiss, and she giggles. She actually laughs.