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“I’m going to punish your ass tonight when I get you alone again,” he says as we climb out of the limousine.
“Why?” I whisper, looking at the beautiful house on the ocean.
“For wearing this goddamned, fuck-me-hard dress!” he says, smacking me on the ass real hard.
I’m not wearing any underwear, and I feel like such a slut. This isn’t like me, but I can’t help the excitement that fills me at his promise. I feel so daring tonight, so unlike myself.
I was ready to change my life when I set out to go to Utah earlier this month. I didn’t know that it would come in the form of one Kincaid Maxwell.
“Whose house is this?” I whisper when he takes my hand and leads me up the craggy walkway.
I’m thankful I took his advice and wore a coat because it’s much colder here in Maryland than it was back home in South Carolina.
“My cousin’s.”
“Does this cousin have a name?” I ask just as the front door opens.
A tall, dark-haired man who is as beautiful as Kincaid but with darker looks greets Kincaid in Greek. The two of them embrace and laugh heartily before pulling back.
We step inside the large, well-lit home, and I look around at the extravagant luxury.
Turning to me, Kincaid introduces me. “Kostas, this is my friend, Yesenia. Nia, this is my cousin, Kostas.”
I extend my hand to shake his, but he pulls me into him and wraps his arms tightly around me, hugging me profusely. When he pulls back, he says something else to Kincaid in Greek, and I wonder if the man understands English at all.
He eliminates that theory by saying, “Yesenia, welcome to my home. You are a beautiful woman. I am unsure how my ugly cousin managed to attract your attention.”
Kincaid punches him in the arm, and both men laugh as a woman approaches him. She’s beautiful, and something about her mix of Afro-Asian features is familiar. I try not to stare, but I can’t help it.
“Do I know you?” I ask her.
She laughs as she presses herself into Kostas’s side, and he wraps an arm lovingly around her before kissing the top of her head.
“Mal, this is my friend, Yesenia. Nia, this is Kostas’s wife, Malaya. Known to the world as Sasha Royal,” Kincaid introduces.
“Call me Mal,” she says, shaking my hand.
Lifting an eyebrow, I ask, “TheSasha Royal? As in the New York Times best-selling author Sasha Royal?”
Laughing, she nods and says, “Yes, one and the same.”
“The erotic romance author?” I ask.
Laughing again, she says, “That’s me.”
I shake my head and say, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fangirl on you. It’s just that I love your books.”
A look passes between Kostas and Kincaid that I’ll hound him about later.
“Thank you! I love writing them for you guys.”
“You have a beautiful home,” I say, looking around.
“Thank you. Let me take you back and introduce you to some of the other guests. Love your dress, by the way,” she says.
Glancing over my shoulder, I toss Kincaid a look, and he winks at me.
“I was nervous about wearing it out, but if I had known we were going around his family, I might have chosen something more modest.”
