Epilogue Can’t Help Falling in Love #3
He chuckles. “Yeah. Didn’t even feel right.”
“Has that ever worked?”
“Once. Maybe twice. My money did most of the talking.”
I snort. “Of course it did.”
“You think you could do better?”
“I know I can.”
“Then prove it,” he says. “Right now.”
I shake my head, smiling. “Not giving you ammo to use on some big-boobied socialite.”
“Scared?” he presses.
“Of what?”
“That you couldn’t pick me up?”
I scoff, rolling my eyes. “You think negging’s gonna work on me? Please. I invented that move.”
Kelley’s eyes spark at the challenge, and for half a second, I consider letting it go further. Then I remember where that road leads. Chaos. And yeah—probably mind-melting sex—but still.
I turn back to the ocean, lean into the railing. Cool air slides over my skin, grounding me just enough. I can feel his stare on my back, heavy and patient.
Lord help me. I take another sip. This man is going to ruin my life.
His voice drops, close now. Too close. “Maybe,” he murmurs, stepping into my space like he’s earned it. A finger traces my bare shoulder, slow, deliberate. My body lights up traitorously. “Or maybe I just want to know what one night deep in Wynter feels like.”
Jesus. Mary. Josefina.
I close my eyes for a beat, breathe through the heat. When I look up, his gaze is fixed on my skin like it’s water in a drought.
Fine. Two can play.
I turn suddenly, catch him off guard, and press my fingertips to his chest. Push him back against the balcony. The slit in my skirt does its job as I lift my knee, just enough. His glass dangles forgotten. I feel his warmth through his shirt, smell bourbon and confidence.
I trail my fingers slowly, voice barely there. “Did you know most women are afraid to tell you—”
My hand hovers near his belt. My knee slides closer. His breath stutters.
“Mmhmm,” he manages.
“That your… pick-up… lines… are trash.”
One knee. One pat. One step back.
The look on his face is priceless.
I grab his champagne from the ledge and drain it. Why not.
“Seriously?” he says, stunned.
“What?” I blink, innocent.
“You do all that and steal my drink?”
I smile sweet. “You wanted to see how a real one does it.”
“That is not what I said.”
“Eh. Close enough.”
His eyes darken, dangerous now. “You shouldn’t take a man’s drink.”
I shrug, hands up. “Looks like I already did.”
“So you need to be taught a lesson,” he growls, and his voice wraps around me like velvet-covered electricity. “With actions like that, there are consequences.”
I laugh, but it comes out a little breathier than I intended. “Oh, and who's about to teach them to me, you?”
“Wynter,” he says, my name rolling off his tongue like honey, “don't let my pretty face or our tit-for-tat fool you. I will put that little ass of yours in your place, starting with...” He slides his hand into his jacket and pulls out a small white rectangle that makes my heart do a little twerk.
“Dicking you down a few pegs. I'm sure that pretty pussy of yours needs a thorough beating.
And after I do that, I'll wear those thick chocolate thighs like earmuffs and eat you out of house and home. And I used to be a fat kid, so now I know how to fucking clean a plate.”
Sweet baby Jesus on a bicycle. This man's mouth is even giving me a run for my money.
He steps closer, closing the gap between us until I can feel the heat radiating off his body. Close enough that the air between us disappears. Close enough that I can smell the sweat from his balls through that tux.
His tongue drags slowly across his bottom lip as his eyes drop to my mouth.
“I’ll throw that ass around until you’re calling me daddy,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, “and watch you beg me to fuck you harder, my hand wrapped around that pretty fucking neck of yours.”
The words slide over my skin like a promise he’s already decided to keep.
“I may play about a lot of things,” he continues, tilting his head slightly, eyes dark and steady on mine, “but I can assure you all the rumors are one thousand percent true.”
His fingers curl around my wrist, slow and deliberate, guiding my hand back down to his dick.
Well, fuck.
A little whimper slips out before I can stop it, because there was definitely no photoshopping in that leaked photo.
“You already know what it is.”
His thumb drags once across the inside of my wrist before he lets go, like he’s savoring the moment.
Then he steps back.
Just enough space to breathe again.
A slow, satisfied smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
“So when you’re ready to have your back cracked open like a lobster,” he says casually, straightening his jacket like he didn’t just light the room on fire, “I’ll be in V18.”
He finishes by slipping something cool and heavy between my breasts.
A key card.
The metal hits my overheated skin and I suck in a sharp breath. The chill makes me shiver in a way that has nothing to do with the ocean breeze.
His mouth twitches.
I give him a greedy squeeze in response.
“No sampling the merchandise,” he murmurs, fingers circling my wrist as he finally lifts my hand away from his very thick-as-fuck situation.
Kelley steps back like none of this happened, smoothing his tie like we didn’t just engage in the most intense foreplay of my life.
“You’re either coming or going tonight,” he says over his shoulder, voice rough with promise. “Which one will it be?”
His gaze drags over me slowly.
Dark eyes. Lazy confidence. A man who clearly thinks he already knows the answer.
“Because if you choose correctly,” he adds, voice dropping, “you’re in for a wild ride.”
A slow smile spreads across my face.
Oh.
So that’s how we’re playing this.
I bite my lip, my thoughts shooting through my brain like a bullet train hopped up on espresso. I glance between the reception in full swing inside—flooded with debauchery, love, and expensive bad decisions—and the gold private villa key now clutched in my bad-idea-infested fingers.
Kelley clears his throat. Then, like the menace he is, he makes a subtle adjustment to himself before turning and walking away, his body disappearing toward the villas.
My eyebrows lift.
“Fuck it,” I mutter, pushing up my tits for good measure.
“Let’s get Wilde.”