The Billionaire (The Dalton Brothers 2) - Page 13

Dominick’s room was like mine with a balcony running across the back that gave him a full view of the Bellagio fountains and the unique, lit-up high-rise hotels on the Strip. Just as Brett and I stepped outside, the sky was turning dark, giving this city an entirely different feel. Aside from the fun we had here, the scenery was my favorite part about Vegas. The mountains framed the perimeter, the belly an explosion of lights and energy and color.

Normally, I would take in this view and think of all the work that was waiting for me on my laptop.

But work wasn’t what ate my mind tonight.

It was Jo.

“Two times in one day,” Brett said, our hands resting over the wooden banister that edged the top of the glass wall outside. “That’s more than a one-night stand, my friend.”

Another reminder.

I could still see her body, still feel the softness of her skin, still hear her screams as she shuddered over my cock.

Women didn’t take up real estate in my brain.

They left as quickly as they came. I didn’t have time for them to stick around. My life moved far too fast for that—traveling, work, traveling for work, a vicious cycle that repeated weekly. Since graduating from law school, I didn’t ask for phone numbers. I didn’t memorize addresses. Women were like a bold, heavy cabernet while eating a five-hundred-dollar Kobe steak. They enhanced the experience, but they weren’t the star of the show.

The star was work.

It always had been; it always would be.

Except this little beauty with long black hair and glittering blue eyes was etched in a space I couldn’t erase.

And I didn’t know what the fuck to do about it.

I turned toward Brett. “She might become a multi-night stand while I’m in Vegas, but this is where it’ll end.”

“You sure about that?” Brett asked.

As I was about to answer, Jack walked back inside, and Dominick came over and said, “If you’re talking about Jo, he’s already fucking pussy-whipped.”

I looked at my brother. “Do you have something you want to say to me?”

Dominick smiled. “Do you really want to hear it?”

I laughed.

I knew where this was going.

Since Dominick was dating Kendall now and Brett was engaged to James Ryne—the most popular actress in Hollywood—they thought they knew it all. They had every goddamn answer. Like they were fucking psychologists in any situation that involved women.

I couldn’t wait to hear this.

“Sure, bring it,” I told him.

“You like her, and you don’t know what the fuck to do about it.”

Now, I really laughed. In fact, I laughed so hard that my head fell back.

The action instantly brought back a memory from earlier in my room.

Fuck.

“Listen, you two, I know you both think you’re the latest and greatest Dr. Phil, but you have no idea what the hell you’re talking about. She lives in Miami, and she’s in college. I have no business even entertaining a thought like that, never mind pursuing her.”

“So, she’s a bit of a cub,” Dominick said. “That’s a moot point. She’s legal—that’s all that matters.”

“And you know half my relationship has been long-distance while James is on location, filming.” Brett nodded toward Max. “He and Eve haven’t always lived in the same city either.” He then pointed at Jack. “And you know he and Samantha have had their time apart.”

I glanced between Brett and Dominick, not believing my fucking ears. “Hold up. I got my dick sucked a few times today, and suddenly, you’re marrying me off and visualizing my white picket fence?” I shook my head. “I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into you two, but, Jesus, you’re laying it on thick.” I glared at Dominick. “Especially you, the guy who lived an identical life as mine.”

“But do I now?” Dominick asked. “I learned that lesson and almost pushed away the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

I emptied the scotch in my hand, my patience running out. “Are you done?”

He put his hand in the air. “I’m just saying, be open to possibilities. You shut them out before they even turn into chances. Whether it be with Jo or the next girl, I want you to stop and consider what could be.”

I set my glass down, wishing one of them had brought the bottle outside.

Am I considering anything they’re saying?

Fuck no.

This is a waste of a conversation.

“I’ve heard you. Now, I think it’s time for dinner,” I said.

I wished that dismissal caused the thoughts to leave as well.

But they were there, front and center.

I had almost a week left in Vegas. Jo did as well.

If these temptations continued …

No, I wasn’t putting my brain there.

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