Chapter Six

Maya

I was fighting off sleep as I sat waiting in the lobby.

Every few seconds, my eyes darted toward the glass entrance, praying he would hurry up and show up so I could finally go back upstairs and collapse into bed. 

Then, a sleek black sedan pulled up right at the curb. 

My breath caught in my throat the second he stepped out of the vehicle.

And to be completely fair to the man... he looked even better in broad daylight.

He was dressed casually in a fitted polo shirt, dark-wash straight-cut jeans, a pair of crisp designer sneakers, and a signature silver watch gleaming on his wrist.

It was the textbook billionaire-bachelor aesthetic I’d started noticing everywhere since arriving in New York. 

“Good morning, princess. Miss me?” he greeted, flashing me a wide smile.

Before I could even dodge, he leaned down and stole a quick kiss right off my lips. 

“Devon! We’re in the lobby!” I hissed under my breath.

“So? We’re in New York, baby. Even if we full-on made out right here, literally nobody would care,” he grinned.

I rolled my eyes so hard it almost hurt. 

God. What on earth possessed my brain to hook up with a guy like this? 

Oh, right... Because he’s ridiculously hot and a complete good in bed. Duh. 

I shook my head.

Great. Even my own internal monologue was betraying me now. 

“Where’s my phone?” I held out an expectant palm, cutting straight to the point. I needed to get rid of him before his dangerous charisma scammed me out of my remaining sanity. 

“Whoa, slow down. Can’t we grab coffee first? I haven’t even had breakfast yet.” 

“Then go get some after you give me my phone. Now hand it over so both of us can go back to our lives.” 

He studied my face for a second before finally reaching into his pocket and pulling out my device. 

I snatched it from his grip immediately. 

“Thanks. Goodbye.” Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and marched toward the elevator bank. 

“What’s with all the hostility? You definitely weren’t acting like this last night,” he called out, his heavy footsteps easily keeping pace right behind me. 

“Devon, please. I’m exhausted. My entire body is aching—which, by the way, is completely your fault,” I retorted, not bothering to look back. 

“Oh, well, I’m sorry about that, but in my defense, you specifically asked for hard sex. I just—” 

I whipped around to face him.

“Devon, shut the fuck up! Use the S-word one more time in public, and I swear to god I’ll punch you right in the face!” I took a sharp breath, glaring at him.

“And why are you even following me? We’re done. You can leave now.” 

“Who said we were done?” 

“I did! Are you deaf?” 

Right on cue, the elevator doors chimed open.

A small group of hotel guests stepped out, forcing both of us into a temporary silence.

But the second the doors cleared, Devon grabbed my wrist, pulled me inside, and instantly cornered me against the elevator wall, trapping me between his broad arms. 

“Devon, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” I gasped. 

“I’m taking you up to your room. What floor are you on, anyway?” 

“Devon, you need to leave. I have a million professional commitments this week.” I pressed my back flat against the cool metallic wall, but his proximity was lethal. His intoxicating, woodsy scent was driving me utterly insane, and god help me, the deep, gravelly tone of his voice alone was already making me ridiculously wet. 

This is actual madness! 

“Then let me take care of you,” he purred.

“I give incredible massages. You know...” 

“Devon, that’s not going to happen. A one-night stand is strictly a one-night stand. We are not doing a repeat performance. Got it?” 

He leaned in closer. “Then who told you this was only a one-night stand?” 

I went completely still.

What the hell is he talking about? 

“Because I sure as hell didn’t,” he stated, leaving zero room for argument.

“Now, tell me your room number so I can start taking care of you properly.” 

I let out a long, defeated exhale, completely overwhelmed by his sheer persistence. 

“Floor twenty-seven.” 

He smirked, reaching out to press the illuminated button.

“Good girl.” 

-

The second we stepped into my room, Devon casually launched into an inspection of the suite. 

Good thing I pride myself on being an excessively organized person—not a single piece of my belongings was out of place.

His eyes quickly landed on my luggage resting near the closet. 

“So, you’re from the Philippines?” he asked, pointing to the brightly colored PAL flight sticker slapped across the handle of my suitcase. 

“Yeah. " My friend and I,” I replied, slipping off the oversized blazer I’d used to cover up my hickeys down in the lobby.

I was already wearing a plain T-shirt underneath, so zero free shows for him this morning. 

“Tourists?” 

“Not entirely. We’re here on business—we own a couture brand back home.” 

“Oh. So you’re a boss lady, too,” he mused, smirking.

“That explains a lot.” 

I frowned at his comment, but decided to let it slide.

“What do you want? Coffee or water?” 

Instead of answering, he looked at me intently, walked over to my bed, and sat down right on the edge of the mattress. 

“I want you,” he said, patting his lap. “Come sit here.” 

And for some insane, inexplicable reason, my legs actually listened.

I walked over and sank right onto his lap.

God help me, the moment his strong arms wrapped tightly around my waist, my entire body melted, completely collapsing against him. 

“I almost had a full-blown panic attack when I woke up and found you gone,” he murmured into my neck. 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” I grumbled.

“I’m a stranger. It’s not like my leaving ruins your entire life.” 

He pulled back just enough to lock eyes with me, giving me the kind of soft, earnest puppy-dog look that completely obliterated my remaining walls. 

“You’re not a stranger to me anymore, Maya,” he whispered. “I like you.” 

Alright, wow. My heart just did a literal somersault in my chest. 

“Devon... you’re crazy,” was the only coherent response I could force out. 

“Yeah, maybe,” he chuckled.

“Crazy about you. Look... do you feel that?” 

His hands gripped my hips, shifting me slightly until my seat was pressed right against the hard length between his thighs. He was already rock-hard, teasing me through our clothes, and an involuntary, breathless moan instantly escaped my lips. 

“Yeah... see how easily you make me hard, baby?” he growled low in his throat, grinding himself slowly against me. 

His long fingers reached down to the waistband of my skinny jeans, deftly unzipping them with practiced skill. 

“Devon, don’t... I’m still sore—” 

“I know, baby. I won’t fuck you—not yet,” he promised. “I just want to see how wet you are for me right now.” 

Before I could object, his bare hand slid beneath the denim and scooped my heat.

He pushed a slick finger deep inside me, working a deliberate rhythm—alternating between fast thrusts and agonizingly slow strokes—until I was writhing on his lap. 

“Lift your shirt, baby,” he commanded, his voice thick with lust.

“I want to taste these.” 

Without a second thought, I willingly obliged, pulling the fabric up to my collarbone. 

He paused, savoring the view, before swiftly unclasping my bra and diving in.

He devoured my nipples, sucking and lapping wildly at the peaks while his fingers continued to slide in and out of my core. 

“Devon... shit, I’m coming!” I gasped, my fingers digging desperately into his broad shoulders. 

“Come for me, baby. Squirt all over my hand...” 

My whole body trembled as an intense orgasm tore through me, and I collapsed weakly against his chest. 

“That is... fucking insane...” I breathed out, completely dazed. 

He let out a low, satisfied chuckle.

“Now... I’ll let you sleep. But I’m picking you up later.” 

With heavy eyelids, I blinked up at him.

“Where are we going?” 

“Heaven, hell, anywhere. I’ve got a car, I’ve got money—name it. Anywhere you want to go, baby.” 

A soft giggle escaped my throat.

God, he was dangerously, irresistibly tempting. 

“Okay... just let me sleep first. I’ll call you.” 

He pressed a lingering kiss to my lips. “Good. It’s a deal.”