The following day, just as the sun climbed to its apex, the familiar trill of my phone broke through the hush of my penthouse. It was Allie, her voice bubbling with excitement and just a hint of urgency. “Hey! I’m in a taxi. I should be there in about fifteen to twenty minutes, traffic depending.” Wrapped in a towel, I navigated my way past the floor-to-ceiling windows, the soft fabric clinging to my skin as I cradled the phone against my shoulder. “Why didn’t you just take the train? It would have been quicker,” I asked, a teasing lilt in my voice. “Oh, come on! I felt like treating myself to a cozy backseat rather than cramming into a crowded subway car,” she replied, amusement bubbling just beneath the surface. “Fair enough. Any special instructions for when you arrive? What floor am I on?” I wandered into my walk-in closet, plucking a pair of sweatpants from the shelf as I settled into the conversation. “Just tell the concierge who you are, and they’ll send someone up. The elevator’s key-access only to the penthouse,” I instructed absentmindedly. A sigh of wonder punctuated her response. “You live in the penthouse of the Heyward Plaza Hotel?” “Yup.” I let the towel drop, the polished hardwood cool against my skin. “So, what do you think? Will that make your dad hate me less or more?” Her laughter danced in my ear, a sweet sound like music. “Oh, shut up. He doesn’t hate you.” Right, but she’d change her tune if she’d heard the venom he unleashed in the living room last night. I shoved the painful memory aside. “I’ll see you soon,” I said, turning back to ransack my room for stray clothing. The cleaning staff had already worked their magic that morning, while I had a unique talent for creating chaos within moments, a fact Vera, our housekeeper, loved to jest about. Just twenty minutes later, the front desk buzzed, signaling the arrival of my guest. A surge of excitement coursed through me as I made my way to the elevator, which opened directly into my living room. Only my prep school friends had set foot in this space before, and they’d always met opulence with indifference, given their equally grand upbringings. But Allie? The moment she stepped out of the elevator, her jaw dropped and her eyes widened as if she were witnessing some grand spectacle. “Sweet mother of Moses,” she breathed, her awed gaze sweeping across the sprawling parlor, the elegant living room, and the north-facing terrace. “Okay. I demand a tour.” I chuckled, my heart lifting at her enthusiasm. “It’ll be a long tour.” “I don’t care if it takes five hours. I want to see every inch of this palace, your majesty,” she declared, her playful tone igniting a spark of confidence within me. As I guided her through the penthouse, I began to see it through her eyes. Each room evoked gasps of delight and exclamations of wonder— the walnut-paneled library, the sleek chef’s kitchen, the gym lined with state-of-the-art equipment, and a wine cellar that felt almost mythical. “Where are the bedrooms?” she finally asked as we returned to the living room, puzzled. “Oh, that was just the first floor,” I admitted sheepishly. “This place has two floors?” she exclaimed, disbelief etched across her features. I swallowed hard. “Three,” I muttered, unable to shake the sudden surge of self-consciousness that crossed through me like an unwelcome ghost. “Three floors?” Her eyes widened in a way that made me feel like I’d just confessed to riding a unicorn. “I think I want to punch you right now.” “Believe me, I’d like to punch myself too.” Voices from the past crept into my mind, reminders that my wealth had repercussions, shrouding me in a haze of insecurity. Why did I let that man get under my skin? So what if I’d grown up with money? I could empathize with those who struggled; I could still be there for others in need. We climbed the resplendent marble staircase, pausing briefly to admire one of my mother’s beloved abstract pieces. The penthouse, while extravagant, had a clean, modern aesthetic, with most art adorning the walls being from local talents her heart longed to support. “Is your room on the second floor?” Allie asked, her curiosity palpable. I shook my head. “Master bedroom’s down there,” I pointed left, “guest rooms to the right.” I glanced at her. “You want to check them out or skip this floor?” “Let’s skip it.” She was already bounding up the stairs again, her energy infectious. I opened the door to my bedroom, and she beamed as she took in the immense space—the tailored oak bed, the built-in bookshelves, the wall of windows. “No curtains?” she asked, her voice laced with disbelief. “Automatic shades,” I confessed. “Remote-control operated.” “Wow.” Her bright hair caught the sunlight as she moved about, studying every detail of the shelves crammed with titles. Then, suddenly, she turned to me, eyes sparkling. “Okay. Admit it.” “Admit what?” I played coy. “You’re smart,” she demanded, pointing an accusing finger at me. I scoffed, unable to hide my grin. “Of course I’m smart.” “All that baby talk and foul language says otherwise,” she retorted, crossing her arms defensively. “You act like a total fool sometimes. It’s almost as if you want everyone to think you’re a complete dummy.” “Baby dolls,” I emphasized with a smirk, “that’s just how I fucking talk. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.” Her laughter bubbled over. “Uh-huh. So why do you never talk about law school?” “What’s there to say? I’m not in law school yet.” I perched on the edge of my bed, nonchalantly casual. “But you’re excited about it, right?” she pressed. “Eh. Not so much.” I chuckled at the frown that creased her brow. “I’m sure the excitement will come. You know me—live-in-the-moment kind of guy.” I gestured invitingly at the bedspread. “Get over here already, will ya?” “Give me one good reason why I should,” she challenged playfully. I slid my hand into my waistband, adopting a mock-serious expression. “Little Dean feels neglected.” Her laughter rang like a bell as she climbed into my lap, her hands entwining around my neck. “Poor guy. Does he need an afternoon delight?” “He’s absolutely starving for it,” I murmured as our lips met, that familiar spark igniting between us. I couldn’t help but succumb to the exhilarating rush of diving deeper with her. My hands found their way under her shirt as I groaned when her softness filled my palms. “Ohhh,” she sighed, arching her back as if captivated by the sensation. “That’s nice.” “Get ready for it to get nicer, baby.” I found my other hand gliding down to cup her through her leggings, urgency fueling my movements. “Damn it, we need to get these clothes off.” With a glance toward the windows, Allie became wary. “Should we close the shades? Where’s the remote?” My focus remained steadfastly on the delectable task at hand, drawn in by the taste of her skin. “If someone’s watching, they’re in for an unforgettable show,” I replied, tugging playfully at her bottom. As I lowered her onto the mattress, I reveled in the thrill of peeling away every garment, our fervor building to an ecstatic crescendo. Moments later, neither of us wore a thread as we lost ourselves in the wild abandon of pleasure, rolling around until breathless laughter filled the space between us. “Cool if we save foreplay for later?” I whispered, my lips brushing against her neck. “Mmm-hmmm. Just get inside me already,” she purred, coaxing me on. Gratefully, I retrieved a condom, marveling at our synchronicity as I readied myself against her warmth. The moment I slid home, pleasure consumed us both—a heady rush that took my breath away. “Don’t stop,” she commanded, each word a thrilling rush that ignited my hunger further. “Trust me, I don’t plan to,” I replied, letting my instincts guide me as I thrust forward. The world melted away, leaving only her, each sound and sigh vibrating through both our vibrating bodies. We spent the day in an exhilarating blur, entwined in sheets and soaked under cascading water in the shower, lingering in heated exploration across every inch of the penthouse. I went down on her in the kitchen, while she moaned my name, every sound like a melody that echoed through the vacant walls of my sanctuary. By nine o’clock, I felt utterly spent, a mere husk of my former self, completely drained of energy. Allie had extracted every last ounce of my vitality with her fiery passion, and as we lay comfortably entwined in the luxurious sheets, I couldn’t help but grin at the wild-eyed wonder of it all. “You’re a sex fiend,” I muttered, glancing over at her as she traced her fingers lazily along my thigh. “I can’t help it,” she quipped, leaning back, her beauty mesmerizing in the aftermath of our fervor. “The Life of Dean gets me all hot and bothered.” Just then, my phone rang, cutting through our bliss. With great relief, I answered, hoping for a distraction. “What’s shaking, Maxwell?” I greeted, recognizing Beau’s voice on the other end. “We are,” he said, enthusiasm echoing from the other side. “We’re shaking our asses out on the dance floor tonight!” “Um. Are you inviting me to go dancing?” I paused, double-checking my thoughts. “And shouldn’t you be in Wisconsin with your grandmother right now?” “Grams bailed,” he laughed. “She ditched us for a seniors’ cruise. Can you believe the audacity? Let’s meet up.” “How do you know I’m in the city?” I narrowed my eyes, suspicious. “Friend finder app,” he explained casually. “Shows you where all your friends are at all times.” Great. I was being tracked by one of my best buds. “Where are you going?” “We’re hitting a club in SoHo. You down?” “Hold on a sec.” I covered the mouthpiece and turned to Allie, who was busy fidgeting with her hair. “Feel like going out? Beau and his sister are in town, and they’re hitting a nightclub.” Her brow furrowed, hesitance pooling in her eyes. “Beau, as in Briar’s quarterback?” I recognized her apprehension immediately. “He won’t say anything if he sees us together. Seriously. Maxwell knows how to keep it quiet.” After what felt like an eternity of deliberation, she finally nodded, a flicker of excitement breaking through. “I haven’t been to a club in ages.” I lifted my hand from the phone. “We’re in.” “We?” she echoed, a hint of surprise. “I’m bringing a friend,” I replied with a grin. “Nice. Meet you there in an hour?” “Sounds good.” I ended the call, noticing that Allie’s expression had shifted to distress. “What’s wrong?” “I didn’t bring anything club-appropriate to wear,” she fretted, gnawing on her bottom lip. “Can we stop in Brooklyn first, or is that too much of a hassle?” “Not necessary,” I assured her, tugging her off the bed. “You can borrow something from my sister. You’re about Summer’s size.” “Are you sure she won’t mind?” Allie bit her lip nervously as I guided her across the hall into my sister’s domain. “Some girls can get really sensitive about lending out their clothes.” “Trust me, she won’t care.” Allie’s wide eyes reflected her astonishment as we stepped into Summer’s closet. “How is this a closet?” she marveled, taking in the vastness that could rival a small apartment. “She’s got an entire wall of shoes,” she squealed, laughter spilling from her lips, “Now I want to punch your sister!” I chuckled, warning her, “I wouldn’t try it. Summer doesn’t play nice. She’s a beast.” As she inspected the racks filled with designer attire, her eyes practically sparkled. “If I check any of these tags, am I going to see words like ‘Prada’ and ‘Kors’ and ‘Lagerfeld’?” “Yep.” “Then please direct me to the cheap section so your sister doesn’t kill me if I spill something on her precious dresses.” “Babe, trust me, she won’t mind. Just pick whatever you’d like.” “Okay, then. Since I probably won’t get a chance to wear a Valentino dress ever again, I choose this one.” She held up a stunning black lace minidress with an eye-popping neckline, glancing at the shoe collection with wide-eyed wonder. “And I’ll pair it with…oooh, are those Jimmy Choos?” “That’s my cue to leave,” I announced, waving her off. “Come find me when you’re ready.” I retreated to my room to dress, which took hardly any time at all. In mere minutes, I was dressed in a gray sweater, trousers from the night before, and sprawled on my bed while scrolling through YouTube videos. After a slight wait, Allie burst into the room like a whirlwind, her hair tousled and a small makeup kit in hand. She disappeared into the bathroom with a quick call of, “Oh hey! My friend Dillon just texted. She got in last night and wants to meet up. Can I invite her to the club?” “Sure, go ahead.” My phone buzzed in the meantime, and I halted my entertainment to check messages. Logan: Just found the perfect Christmas present for you in Boston. A picture followed, prompting a groan deep from my throat. He had sent me a photo of a garish My Little Pony dildo, bright pink and sparkling with rainbow colors. Logan: And it’s rechargeable! You don’t even need batteries. THAT’S handy! Me: Hardy-har-har. You’re a real comedian. Meanwhile, Grace’s response appeared: Tell your boyfriend to stop being mean to me. Traitor. “I’m ready!” came Allie’s bright voice, jolting me from my distraction. My head whipped up, and for a moment, I lost the ability to breathe. She had undergone a transformation that made my heart race. Gone was the girl-next-door I knew, replaced by a vision of sultry allure—glossy lips and smoky eyes that would make anyone look twice. “How do I look?” she asked, striking a pose, hand on her hip. “Ridiculously fuckable,” I stated, rising from the bed and pulling her close for a kiss, inhaling the scent that wafted around her—something sweet and intoxicating that I couldn’t quite place. “What is it?” Allie frowned, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Huh? What do you mean?” “You were staring at me,” she accused, humor dancing in her features despite the frown. “Sorry,” I mumbled, realizing how genuinely enraptured I was. “I must have spaced out.” I threw on a careless smile, determined to shake the strange fluttering sensation in my chest. With no more time to waste, I followed Allie out the door, my heart racing with anticipation for the night ahead, and the thrilling adventure we were about to embark on together.