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Chapter 3

HOLLAND

I'm not sure if he noticed me when he walked through the door, but I definitely noticed him. He's incredibly attractive. His hair is short and perfectly styled, and his clothes, shoes, and watch scream luxury. I could tell from across the room that they're genuine, not knockoffs.

He's wealthy, but he doesn't flaunt it or act arrogant. He simply exudes confidence, knowing he has it all. Damn, he's also really hot.

I can't even remember the last time I went on a date, and seeing him is overwhelming. I decide to dance, hoping to distract myself from his presence. I don't want this to turn into some weird obsession—I have enough going on in my life already.

Shaking my head, I turn to Nate and let him know I'm going to dance. I need to get this guy out of my mind. I need to forget he exists.

As soon as I start dancing, I feel someone's fingers wrap around my waist. I spin around and find myself face-to-face with the man himself. Jesus, he looks even more stunning up close.

His eyes are a light shade of blue, almost white. I gasp at the sight, feeling his fingers gently press against my lower back, pulling me closer to him. Although, I don't think he really needs to force me—I have a feeling my body would willingly comply.

I try to say something, but no words come out. He leans forward, his lips brushing against my ear.

"Dance, darling."

His words come out like a purr. I don't understand what he said, but it sounds incredibly sexy in whatever language he's speaking. I follow his lead and dance. There's something about him that makes me want to please him.

I lift my arms and wrap them around his neck, moving my body closer to his. Pressing my chest against his, I almost whimper as my nipples harden and brush against his strong muscles. Jesus. He's not overly muscular, but he's definitely firm underneath.

"What's your name?" I breathe.

He chuckles, his chest vibrating against mine. My lips part, and my eyes flutter closed. I'm instantly aroused by him. He's not just hot, sexy, and incredibly attractive—he ignites a desire in me. I would never describe myself as horny, but right now, that's exactly what I am.

This man could slip his hand under my skirt, lift it up, and fuck me right here. And I think I would let him. I'm not sure I would say no to anything he wants. I lick my lips, continuing to dance, eagerly waiting for him to tell me his name, which I'm certain will be incredibly sexy.

"Danill Belsky," he murmured softly.

Fuck.

Me.

Right.

Now.

One of his hands slides down to grip my ass tightly, holding my body firmly against him. I inhale sharply, pressing my lips together as we dance. We continue this way for the entire song, then another, and another.

We don't speak.

Our bodies do all the talking, and I'm perfectly fine with that.

I've never felt such instant attraction to someone before, and I'm completely captivated, not only by him but also by how my body responds to him. I can't believe how much I want him.

Crave him.

Almost need him.

He tilts his head, his lips brushing against my ear again, and I think he's going to kiss me. Instead, he speaks. His accent is subtle, barely noticeable, but it's there.

"Come. Let's go to my place," he murmurs.

"Your place?" I ask.

He lifts his head, locking eyes with me, a grin spreading across his face. "Yes," he says.

Then he lowers his lips to mine, holding them there for a moment without kissing me or pulling away. I can taste him. He tastes like mint and tobacco. My God, it's incredibly sexy. Everything about him is, I've already decided.

I bet his car is sexy too. Maybe even his sheets.

Fuck.

Sheets.

Going home with him.

"Where do you live?" I ask.

He doesn't answer right away, and I realize how foolish I'm being. I shouldn't be asking him where he lives, and I definitely shouldn't be considering going home with him. Then I question why I'm doing this at all. I never do this.

Most people probably assume I've been with a lot of men. I've partied enough for them to think so. But only a few people know that I've only been with two men in my life.

I've partied hard.

I've gotten myself into some risky situations, but I've managed to keep some part of myself sacred and respected.

Even if it wasn't my liver, for sure.

"West Hollywood," he murmurs against my lips.

I jerk my head back, my eyes widening. I don't think I've ever met anyone who lives in West Hollywood, in any part of it. I didn't even know people still lived there. I don't know why, but I assumed that area of Los Angeles was neglected.

"We'll go to my place. It's just a mile away," I say, instead of questioning why the hell he would live in West Hollywood.

His lips twitch into a smirk, and then he takes a step back. He's the winner. He's the king, and me? I'm probably nothing more than the court jester. But I don't think I could live with myself if I didn't have him tonight.

Selfishly, I want him. He's too beautiful to not have all to myself.

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