"Marta will take care of you today – she’ll get you what you need, okay?"

She nods, her posture unsure. I hadn’t planned on leaving her today. I have to work the rest of the week, so today I planned on enjoying her in the many rooms of my home, but if I flake out on my brothers now, I’ll never hear the end of it.

"What about later?" She looks up and blinks those gorgeous blue eyes at me. I try to read her look. Hesitation? Interest? I shrug it off. I’m sure it’s nothing more than mere curiosity at when I’m going to take her virginity. That’d be the only obvious thing on her mind. It’s her entire purpose for being here.

I bend down to whisper near her ear, careful that my brothers don’t overhear. "I quite enjoyed my cock in your mouth last night."

She swallows and lets out a tiny gasp, inaudible to anyone but me. The sound makes my dick flex in my pants. Fuck.

I raise one hand and stroke her cheek with the back of my knuckles. "You’re really good at sucking cock, you know that, right?"

I check her eyes for her reaction, but this information looks like news to her. Okay, so maybe she’s just good at sucking mine. Even better news. Her cheeks are rosy and pink and her eyes dart around me, checking to see if my brothers are listening to us. They are, but I’m sure they’re acting like they’re not.

She licks her lips, completely unaware how erotic that sight is to me. Is it possible to golf with a raging erection? Apparently I’m about to find out.

"Enjoy your day with Marta, but then be ready for me tonight." It’s not a request and a she simply nods.

I head out with my brothers, tossing my clubs into the back of Collins’ SUV and then climb into the passenger seat. I’d completely forgotten about golf today. I hated golf, but Collins had joined the Beverly Hills country club to woo some stuffy client, and he’d been on me and Pace to join him for golf so he could feel like he was getting his money’s worth at the overpriced club.

"So, are you fucking her, or what?" Collins asks before we’re even out of my driveway, not wasting a second.

"Are we really going to talk about this like we’re back in high school?" I ask, keeping my expression bored and fixed on the road.

"Fuck yeah we are." Pace leans forward between the seats, resting on the console. "She’s hot and you know it. Hot enough that Collins forgot all about his supermodel girlfriend."

That was fucking funny. Nothing rattled Collins.

"No one would blame you if you were," Collins continues. "After what that redheaded bitch did to you."

Why in the fuck was everyone bringing up Stella? I bite down, tasting blood.

"I’m not fucking her," I answer. At least not yet. "She’s my friend’s sister," I remind them.

"Right, John from Harvard." Collins smirks. He knows just as well as I do that Sophie’s not from the east coast. Why in the fuck had she said she was from Boston?

"Well, she’s not my friend’s sister, and I have a guest room in my condo. I’ll take her if you don’t want her," Pace replies, completely oblivious.

He’s not taking her anywhere, but I’m not about to engage in a childish argument over my own property.

Chapter Six

Sophie

With a name like Marta, I was expecting a dowdy older housekeeper type with a gray bun and sensible shoes, certainly not the twenty-something blonde who shows up in a cute sundress and strappy sandals with a Chanel bag slung over her shoulder.

"Sophie?" she asks, pulling off the large sunglasses that cover her eyes.

"Yes. Marta, I assume?"

She nods and extends her hand. "You do need a wardrobe, don’t you?" Her gaze travels down my body, taking in Drake’s baggy clothes and she bites her lip. Then she pulls a pair of cut off jean shorts and a tank top from her bag and hands them to me. "Colton said you’d need something to borrow for today."

"Colton?" I ask, accepting the clothes.

Her eyebrows pinch together. "Colton Drake? The man whose home you’re staying in."

I nod. Colton Drake. Even his name is sexy. He hadn’t exactly given me a fake name after all. I smile when I remember Pace calling him Coco this morning.

"Most of his staff calls him Mr. Drake." She shrugs. "But he’s just Colton to me."

Interesting. I wonder what else she is to him. She’s tiny and gorgeous with her tanned skin and blond curls and I feel self-conscious in her presence.

When I return from the guest bath down the hall, I’m dressed in the shorts and tank top, feeling thankful for something to wear, even if they are a little on the tight side, and then I retrieve my purse and shoes from upstairs.

"Ready?" she asks.

I nod and follow her outside into the bright sunshine.

I climb into the little red sports car convertible beside her, tugging at the too short shorts.

She presses a button near the rearview mirror and the roof lowers and folds back neatly into the trunk. I guess I’ll need to get used to my new LA life.

"How did you say you knew Colton? He was kind of vague on the details," she asks, pulling out of his private drive.

I repeat the story that he and I settled on and she nods along without questioning me.

"What did Drake, I mean, Colton tell you about me?" I ask.

"He said that you’d be staying awhile and that you’d need pretty much everything."