by Ember Cole
I’ll ruin her if she doesn’t ruin me first…
When a gorgeous new tenant slips into my office the night of her twenty-first birthday with only one thing on her mind, I know I should send her on her way. Even if the thought of her tied up and at my mercy makes me ache.
I’m a harsh, demanding man, and Kymber’s too young, too innocent. A goddamn virgin. I hate myself for even thinking about stealing what should belong to another.
So I do the honorable thing. I walk away.
My babygirl is just as stubborn as me, though. Twenty-two years in the military, my discipline never faltered. Not once. And yet the feel of her trembling against me, begging for my permission, makes me lose all control.
Her innocent touch kick starts my battered heart. But my past left me with an emptiness I can’t fill, and I’ll be damned if I let my darkness destroy her light…
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. References to actual persons, living or dead, is not intended or inferred.
Copyright © 2018 by Ember Cole. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.
For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact [email protected].
Cover image by CURAphotography/Getty Images
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition June 2018
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1
KYMBER
“I’m done being a virgin!” I shout, holding my drink high enough that the gyrating bodies all around me don’t bump it. Heavy bass vibrates the floor under my four-inch heels as I shake my ass and move my hips.
I love this song.
“You want to be a fucking surgeon?” my best friend Bekka yells back.
The incredulous look on her sweaty face makes me laugh. She knows all about my fear of blood and those masks doctors wear.
Our bodies rock in rhythm to the music, neither of us missing a beat. A whistle comes from somewhere nearby and I hear a guy yell, “Fuck yeah, that’s what I like.”
I shimmy closer so she can hear me. “No, I’m giving up the V-card tonight! Happy birthday to me!”
Some guy behind me puts his hands on my waist. For a few moments I let myself just feel, the music moving between our bodies, but then the guy ruins it when he tries to kiss my shoulder. I get an overwhelming whiff of vodka and grimace.
Bekka grabs my hand and pulls me away, glaring at the guy when he protests.
I love my best friend. This is the first time I’ve been out dancing in years, and it feels so good that I probably would let some drunk slob feel me up on the dance floor if she weren’t here to save me from myself.
Bekka’s eyes narrow and her lip curls as she looks over my shoulder. “Please tell me you’re not giving it up to him.”
My V-card? I shrug. No, probably not him, but does it matter? My mind is made up. It’s my birthday, and I know exactly what I want. A man. Between my legs for the first time ever.
I shiver at the thought.
Bekka and I weave through the undulating crowd of bodies that fill the dance floor. Edy’s Lair plays the best club music in New York City, and with three different levels, there’s room for everyone. The club is a converted warehouse with almost the entire main floor dedicated to dancing, except for a bar that fills one end.
The place is packed tonight. I’m sure finding a guy won’t be a problem, especially wearing the tiny excuse for a dress I picked out specifically for my celebration. With Bekka’s help, of course, because I can’t be trusted with fashion.
We don’t stop moving until we’ve climbed the stairs to the second level, a huge balcony that overlooks the crowd. Dozens of tables are set around the steel mesh railings. There’s a bar up here, too, and waitresses move from group to group delivering drinks.
Bekka finds us a table near the back, away from the music, and pushes me into a seat.
“Vodka Collins, whiskey sour, and two waters,” I say to the waitress before Bekka can do something like order more shots. We had two rounds of lemon drops when we first got here, before we started dancing. I’m not used to drinking like this, but she said it was to loosen me up and get me on the dance floor.
She may have had a point.
I haven’t stopped dancing since.
But now I’m just feeling buzzed and I don’t want to go full-on drunk at this point. Not with the plans I’m making.
“Are you really going to give it up to some fucking rando tonight?” Light reflects off her red hair as she pulls it off her neck. We’ve been dancing for an hour, and it’s hot as hell in here. She dips a napkin into her cleavage to wipe up the sweat, and the guy at the table behind us almost falls out of his chair.
“You’re giving that guy a hard-on,” I tell her.
She glances over her shoulder and snorts. “He’ll be lucky if he can take care of it himself with those tiny hands. And no changing the subject. You just got back to the States—are you sure you want to jump right onto that roller coaster before you get your sea legs?”
I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or just Beks being Beks, but nothing she just said makes sense. And it makes me laugh so hard I snort. “Why do I need sea legs to get laid?”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s a metaphor. You’re an English major. I’m sure you’ve heard of them.”
“Yeah, I know what a metaphor is, and that wasn’t it. More like a metaphor mash-up fail. You’d better stick to business administration.”
Beks waves her hand like she’s swatting a fly away. “Stop focusing on the wrong thing. We’re talking about your maidenly womanhood right now.”
God, she looks so serious that I can’t stand it. I meet her eyes, and we both crack up so hard that tears fill my eyes.
“Never say ‘maidenly womanhood’ again,” I say between gasps for air.
“Agreed!”
She giggles, and it’s at this exact moment I realize just how much I’ve missed my best friend.
“I’m so glad I’m back,” I say, squeezing her hand. “I missed you, Beks.”
Her eyes get misty. Any second we’re both going to be blubbering all over the table, and that is not going to get me lucky. I suck in a breath and fan myself.
“Enough sappy talk. How are we getting me a man tonight?”
Honestly, staying a virgin until twenty-one was never a conscious choice. Three years in South Korea teaching English to underprivileged kids during the day and working on my course load at night left very little time to be social. The few hours I had free were spent with a fellow teacher, a sixty-year-old bald man who taught me how to play poker well enough to take a few bucks from him every week.
Before I knew it, three years had passed.
But I’m back in the States now, living with my best friend in an apartment building that’s owned by some former military commander guy. I only have one more year at Columbia until I graduate. Now is the perfect time to explore, and in a city the size of NYC, there has to be a man out there willing to go home with me for one night.
I glance around. Actually, there are a lot of cute guys here right now. I wonder if any of them would be interested.
Bekka frowns. “You’re sure a one-night stand is how you want to do it?”
Her eyebrow lifts as she watches me. I give her crap because s
he uses a hookup app to find “dates” when, really, she just needs to walk into a room. She doesn’t have to go looking for potential men—they find her. She’s a dick magnet. Me, on the other hand…
Let’s just say I’ve never had her particular problem. I’m too tall. Too girl-next-door. Too bland…I’ve heard it all. At this point, I’d kill for Bekka’s curvy little body.
I wave away my own thoughts. It can’t be that hard to seduce a guy. I hope. “I’m not looking to find someone and date. Not yet. I just want to hook up with someone for the night.” I reach for her phone. “Maybe I should use that app you’re on?”
She snatches it away. “Hell no. You’re too innocent. The guys on there would eat you up, and you’re not ready for that yet. Did I tell you about that one guy who wanted to show me his red room? Okay, yes, I was a little intrigued because, you know, that whole spank-me movie franchise, but when he opened the door, it was a fucking red room. Like red walls, red floor, red ceiling. Fucking weirdo.”
She visibly shudders, and I laugh. The waitress drops off our drinks and Beks slides her the money. It is my birthday, after all, and if nothing else, it’s good for free drinks.
“There has to be some potential men on it, though.”
“I’m telling you, it’s a bad idea. I know you think you want something wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am, but meeting a guy who’s just going to stick his dick in you and not give a crap about your needs isn’t how your first time should go down. It’s more than getting laid. It takes experience to pick out a guy who’s going to give you what you need, too, and right now, you don’t even know what that is. Plus any guy who’s available tonight on this short a notice? Yeah, you’ll want to avoid those.”
“Okay, so what the hell do I do? Pick someone out of this crowd?” That’ll be easier said than done. The place is filled with hot guys, but there are just as many girls, too. It’s like all of New York is on the prowl tonight.
Just my luck.
I deflate a little. I should have told Bekka my plans earlier before everyone started hooking up. Couples grind on each other all over the dance floor, and there are more than a few going at it in the darker corners. The third level is so dark I can only imagine what’s going on up there. Not that I’d be able to see. There’s a velvet rope and a huge bouncer in front of the stairs. Total VIP area.
My prospects are strictly first and second floor.
Maybe I should have let Dance-Floor Guy grope me a little more.
The guy who was eye-fucking Bekka and her cleavage comes over and hovers at her shoulder.
“You two a package deal?” he asks with a slight drawl.
Bekka snorts. “Not into men. She’s my girlfriend.” She reaches across the table and runs a nail down my arm.
I hold in my laugh. I know what’s coming next.
His eyes bug out. “Can I watch?”
Bekka laughs, and I shake my head. “Sorry, girls’ night only.”
He finally looks up from Bekka’s cleavage and blinks at me. Yep, still here, buddy.
Before he can press further, a hand clamps down on the guy’s shoulder and pulls him back a few steps. The guy looks like he’s going to throw a punch at whoever touched him, but then he sees who it is.
“My man!” he shouts. “Was just making some new friends.”
The new guy gives me a cute grin. “Sorry, ladies. He doesn’t get out much.”
I laugh. Okay, first guy was gross but new guy…he’s kinda cute. And he has a great smile. We make eye contact for a few seconds, and I think maybe I’ve found a prospect. I can see getting naked with him. Too bad I don’t know what to do to get from here to there. Is it too late to pull out my phone and watch a couple YouTube videos on seduction?
I start to ask if he wants to join us when Bekka kicks my foot under the table. I glare at her, and she shakes her head. What am I doing wrong this time?
“Great, you found him,” a female voice says. A beautiful blonde sidles up next to Cute Guy, and he wraps his arm around her waist. She gives an apologetic smile. “Was my brother bothering you?”
The alcohol must be making my brain a little fuzzier than I thought because…that’s just weird. They’re siblings? Until she reaches over and pokes the first guy in the gut.
Oh.
“Come on, Rob, let’s go. You’ve got an early flight tomorrow,” she says. She turns to us. “Enjoy the rest of your night, ladies.”
Cute Guy smiles again, and then they walk off together. I watch as he pulls her close and plants a kiss on her lips. Okay, yes. Maybe I want some of that with my sex, too.
The first guy actually pouts before he follows behind them like a disciplined puppy.
“How did you know?” I ask Bekka.
“That he was already taken?”
I nod.
“Well, the ring on his finger was my first clue.”
Shit.
I groan and drop my forehead onto my arm. I never even looked.
I can’t do this. I clearly have no idea how to find, let alone pick up, an available guy worth losing my virginity to. My flirting skills, what little I may have had before, are rusty as hell.
“We’re looking at this wrong,” Bekka says. “Who do we know that’s hotter than sin? I want to make sure your first time is a-mazing.”
I frown. Someone we know? I just moved back and literally know no one but Beks. Someone she knows will be more than I can handle, at least to start. I’ve heard her stories. If sex were an Olympic sport, she’d have a gold medal.
I look around the room. “But what about—”
She waves her hand to cut off my protest. “Most of the guys here have been drinking, and performance is affected by alcohol. You don’t want your first time to be with some limp-dick underachiever who can’t get it up, do you?”
I choke on my drink. “No?”
“Fuck no! You need someone who knows what they’re doing. Someone who will take the time to make sure you get yours first, then will rock your world and ruin you for all other men because his dick is so huge that you can’t walk straight for a week. And one who can fuck you more than once tonight.”
I’m officially scared after that description. “Maybe someone with a normal-sized cock?”
“Nope. Go big or go home.”
“And we’re going to find that guy tonight?” It’s half past midnight, so if we’re not going to find someone at the club, that doesn’t leave a lot of possibilities.
“Hot guys,” she mumbles to herself. “Give me a sec, I can do this.”
As she frowns at the table, I reconsider my plan altogether, but then Bekka squeals and starts bouncing in her seat.
“Holy fuck. I know the perfect guy.” She gives me the biggest Cheshire-Cat grin ever and starts to laugh. “Finish your drink, bestie, ’cause you’re so getting fucky lucky tonight.”
I blink. “Fucky lucky?”
“Yep. Fucky. Lucky. Licky. And everything in between.” She waggles her eyebrows. “Let’s hope he’s really good with his tongue, because you don’t want to miss out on that, either.”
I love my best friend to death. “Okay, who’s the guy?”
Beks grabs her phone and pulls up her Uber app. “Finish your drink. I’ll get a driver here in five. And I’ll tell you when we are safely encased in a moving vehicle so you can’t back out.”
Her wild smile is making me more nervous. “He’s that scary?”
“No.” She drags me to my feet. “You’re just that inexperienced. I don’t want you freaking out. Anticipatory anxiety is a thing, you know.”
We make our way down to the main floor and skirt the edge of the crowd. Sure enough, a silver SUV is waiting out front. We climb in, Beks gives him the address, and we’re off.
The second we pull away from the curb, she grabs my shoulders and grins.
“Adam!” she says, like she’s announcing the cure for heart disease.
“Adam?” I have no idea who she’s talking about. Am I supposed to?
“Adam Black. He’s the perfect choice.”
The last name sounds vaguely familiar. Then it hits me. “Wait. Black, as in the owner of our apartment building?”
“Yes! Adam’s his son.”
I frown. I haven’t met either of them yet. For all I know, Adam’s a troll. “Will I like him?”
“Yes! He’s fucking hot. He’s the super—haven’t you seen him around the building?”
I shake my head.
“Jesus. He’s like a god among men. Always wearing those tight T-shirts that hug his body like a baby spider monkey. Plus, he’s packing. I mean, that bulge in his jeans so isn’t tube socks, so no worries in that department. And I happen to know he works nights because I like to study at that massive desk in the lobby and have seen him go by a few times. He’s super tall and has a seriously nice ass.” She sighs happily. “So yeah, it’s settled. Now we just need a plan.”
I can’t keep up with her, so I don’t even try. If she says this Adam guy is the one, I believe her. She knows what she’s talking about. “Am I just supposed to walk up to him and say, ‘Hi, I’m Kymber, and I’d like to have sex with you tonight’?”
Our Uber driver lets out a choked laugh, and I meet his gaze in the rearview mirror.
“It’d work for me,” he says with a shrug.
He looks like he’s around our age and is rocking a Giants ball cap. He’s kinda cute in a boy-next-door way.
Great. Now I’m considering our Uber driver as a possible one-night stand.
“See. Cutie driver would hit that. Men are easy. Flash ’em a boob, spread those long-ass legs of yours, and they’ll be on their knees in seconds.”
“That would also work for me,” our driver says with a chuckle.
I meet his eyes in the rearview mirror again and can feel heat climbing my neck.
“That is not a plan, Beks,” I grumble. “I can’t just come out and do something like that.”
“Fine,” she grouses. “Give me a minute to think.”
Silence fills the car. It’s hopeless. It’s late. I am so not getting laid tonight.
“If this guy is the super or whatever, just pretend you lost your key,” Uber driver says. “He’ll either have to open your door for you or take you to the office to get a spare, right? You’ll have a chance either way.”