Chapter 1
ONE
LAYA
AGED TWENTY-ONE …
S canning the club, I scrunch my nose. This is not what I wanted tonight, not at all. But Brynn is determined for us to celebrate my birthday in style, so she flirted with every guy she knew, screwed the barman, and now, here we are.
When I applied for colleges, I decided to forgo my maiden name and opted to use Jones. I didn’t want to get offers based on my money and parentage, so I kept my life back home a secret, just like him.
Miami is everything I expected it to be: glitz, glamour, and money, yet I pretend I have none. Instead, I’m making my own way, forging my own path while erasing my past and carving out my future.
“Can you believe this place?” Brynn shouts, and I feign happiness and deliver her a smile. “This club is amazing. Am I the greatest bestie in the whole world, or am I the greatest bestie in the universe?” She flutters her lashes, and I throw my head back on a laugh.
“You’re the greatest bestie in the whole world.”
Her grin is infectious, and she holds a champagne flute up toward me. “Drink up, we got the entire bottle.” Her eyes light up with excitement, and I laugh. If only she knew I could easily afford the champagne we’re consuming if I allowed myself access to my account set up by my parents.
Crossing my legs the other way, I try to relax, when inside, I’d rather not be here. I spent all day checking my phone, hoping for a birthday text from Owen, which never came. I’m tempted to check my purse again, just in case, but that reoccurring anger whenever I think of him flares inside me. God, I’m pathetic. I drink the champagne down in one gulp, making Brynn’s face break out into a playful smile. “Yes, girl!” she hoots, throwing her fist into the air.
Slowly, her ass finds her chair again, and her mouth falls open. “Oh fuck, don’t look now. Don’t look now,” she chants while darting her eyes all over the club and pouring champagne into my glass, but it sloshes over the side and spills onto the table, as her focus remains elsewhere. “There’s this guy checking us out. He’s in the fucking VIP section, Laya.” Her eyes bug out, and I giggle at her reaction. Again, if only she knew. “Holy shit, he’s coming down here.” She fidgets from side to side, then smooths out her blonde hair. “Do I look okay?”
I bite into my bottom lip. “You look hot!” Her shoulders relax, and I smile at her as I take another sip of the champagne. VIP or not, my friend deserves a good time. She’s worked her ass off to get where she is, coming from a shitty home with junkie parents. She works two jobs to help pay for her college tuition. At the end of the semester, she will discover her tuition has been paid by an anonymous donor—me.
“Ladies, would you like to join us upstairs?” A smooth voice caresses my skin, and for the first time in a long time, my heart skips a beat, and I draw my eyes up to meet those of a drop-dead gorgeous guy. His Brioni suit fits him like a glove, tailored to his specification and showcasing his physique. The smell of his sandalwood aftershave sends my head woozy, and when I latch onto his caramel eyes, a dull ache throbs between my legs. His gaze drills into mine, waiting for a response. His dark hair is slicked back, his olive skin practically glistens, showing me how well-groomed he is, and his sharp jawline makes me want to track it with my fingertips. The man is stunning, and my ovaries agree.
“Abso-freakin-lutely!” Brynn exclaims, and I want to punch her in the lady balls for how desperate she’s making us appear.
He tilts his head at me.
Brynn jumps up from her seat and takes hold of my arm, tugging me to stand. “She wants to come, don’t you, Laya?”
Then I part my lips to speak, but his voice holds me captive me. “Laya? Beautiful, mi querida.”
I can’t help the scoff that erupts from me. “I’m not your darling.”
His lips twitch. “Mm, you don’t realize it yet, mi novia.”
The Spanish rolls off his tongue like silk, and I can’t help but quip back, “I’m not your girl either.”
He throws his head back on a deep chuckle that has me smiling. “Come, Gonghu.” He speaks in Mandarin, then holds out his hand to help me stand. When I slide mine into his, a flurry of excitement fills the empty void of longing as he pulls me toward him. His eyes flash with hunger, and this time, it’s not unwelcome.
“Princess I can get on board with.” I wink and drop his hand, then stroll past him, giving a little extra sway to my hips as I climb the stairs.
“What the hell? I didn’t know you could speak other languages.” Brynn’s eyes bug out as she whisper-yells in my ear, making me giggle.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“Right.” Her shoulders sag, and guilt hits me, so I stop and turn to face her.
“I’m sorry. One day, we will have a really good chat.”
Her solemn face glances over my shoulder. “We do. The scary one is into you, typical.” His eyes eat me up, causing heat to flush over my skin. “I liked him,” she admits, then shakes her head. “It’s your birthday, you have him.” I choke on a laugh at her words, the way she speaks as if she’s giving him to me when the connection between us is like a spark of electricity about to set alight.
The hot guy speaks to someone who looks like security or a bodyguard, given his thick build, instantly reminding me of Owen. I shake my head. I need something different, and this guy might just be what I need.
He nods toward Brynn, and I narrow my eyes, but when the bigger guy licks his lips, I smile because Brynn bagged herself a hot guy too. She just doesn’t know it yet.
W e crash into the hotel room, and I try to tear his shirt from his chest while he lifts my dress and grabs my ass, leaving me with no choice but to wrap my legs around him. His fingers brush over my panties, stroking my wet heat, and I moan into his mouth with ferocity as our tongues scramble for control.
After learning my hunk, Carlos Andreas, was the owner of the club we were dancing in, Brynn puckered her lips and threw more disapproving glances my way. Thankfully, the guy from earlier made an appearance and whisked her off to the dance floor, leaving Carlos and me together. Something tells me it was an orchestrated plan, but I didn’t have it in me to care. For once, I was actually enjoying attention from the opposite sex, and the fact he was gorgeous helped.
Carrying me over to the bed, he lays me down. He undresses while I pull my dress over my head. A gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach tells me not to continue, but when an image of Owen with his fiancée flashes in my mind, I shake away the thought. They’re no longer engaged, but I’m also all too aware of how many women Owen will have slept with by now—before and after he took my virginity like I was just another random girl. He fed me the lies I wanted to hear and did it spectacularly.
“Don’t think about him. Just think about me.” His soft lips nip at my skin, and his words pull me from my head.
Like a fool, I told Carlos I had underlying feelings for someone in my past, and to save his time, he might as well not bother pursuing me. He threw his head back on a loud laugh that startled me, then looked me in the eye and told me he was taking me to bed tonight.
Another bottle into the bucket of champagnes he ordered, and here I am, my body and mind at war with one another as his fingers continue to caress my pussy.
The bubbles from earlier have me dropping my inhibitions, but not enough to deem me not coherent. Of course I want him; he’s gorgeous, successful, charming, and I’m a girl who longs to forget.
When he slides inside me, I cry out at the intrusion. Only having been taken once before over three years ago.
“Fuck, you’re strangling my cock, mi amor.” I dig my nails into his back, and he hisses as he thrusts inside me to the hilt.
When his fingers stroke over my throbbing clit, I’ve no choice but to lift my hips in motion with his so we buck against one another. “The most beautiful girl I’ve set my eyes on.” His words wash over me as I try to banish the thoughts of Owen ravishing my mind, the dull ache when I think of him always there. Carlos lifts my leg to slide in deeper, and I feel it. Right in my soul, I feel it. Every part of me screams to stop this, that I’m betraying the man I love. Yet I know he doesn’t love me back, not how I want him to, at least.
I close my eyes to lose myself in the sensations waving through my body. Bright-blue eyes flash before me, and my pussy clenches around him.
“That’s right, mi amor, come on my cock.” His smooth baritone voice feels like a bucket of cold water spilling over me, a reminder of who it is fucking me. The deep feral gruffness is missing, the weight of his heavy body absent as the void inside me remains just that. When I hoped Carlos would be the one to fill it, I know deep in my heart he never could.
The edge now feeling so much further away.
Carlos stills, and when I snap my eyes open, caramel eyes filled with lust roam over my face. “What did he call you in bed?”
“Wh-what?”
“The man you’re in love with. What did he call you in bed?”
I turn my head away as a tear slides down my cheek. “Baby girl,” I whisper.
When I think he’s going to pull out, he surprises me by rearing back and slamming inside me harder than before. “Pretend it’s him fucking you, baby girl.” His grunts of pleasure fill the room and his hips begin to work again. “Fuck, baby girl. So damn good.” My body betrays me as his words filter into my mind. With each thrust and swivel of his hips, I become wetter, and my pussy responds, clenching around him until I pulsate deep inside. “Fuck, yes. Yes, baby girl, give it to me.”
My mouth falls open on a silent scream, and I squeeze the cum from his cock. He spills inside me while staring into my eyes, holding me hostage and forcing the air from my lungs.
He doesn’t withdraw his cock, and for that, I’m grateful. Instead, he rolls us so I am on his chest. “I’m going to make you fall in love with me,” he declares, and I chuckle into his chest while resting my head on the beat of his heart until it becomes steady and the soft sound of him snoozing fills the room.
A vibrating noise startles me, and I sit up, taking the sheet with me as I lean over the bed to grab my purse. I pull my phone out, and when I see the message on the screen, my heart plummets.
DOUCHE: Happy Birthday, baby girl. Always.
I drop my phone onto my purse as devastation racks through me, and I try to stifle the sob lodged in the back of my throat.
“Come back to me, mi amor.” Carlos’s sleepy voice makes my body pause, and when he tugs me toward him, I fall into his chest, ignoring the wetness coating my cheek and the sickness welling inside me.
His grip on me tightens. “You’re mine now, baby girl.”
His words hold a finality behind them that makes my blood still. It’s a vow, a promise, one that tells me my life will never be the same.