strawberry blond trailing him.
“Dean, Norah…you made it!” He reaches out and shakes Dean’s hand and offers me a smile that borders on sympathetic. “You surviving okay so far?”
“This is a very dynamic group.” I plaster on a smile.
Max laughs. “Yes, it is. This is Henley, by the way. She’s a friend of mine who lives here in Aspen.”
We shake hands and Kate begins shouting for our attention. I turn to see she’s kneeling on top of her barstool. “Okay, everybody…as I’m sure you all saw on my itinerary, tonight we’re splitting up. I’ve made reservations for the guys at a great little brewery and pizza place and the ladies are dining here in the palace.”
Max shakes his head and takes a drink.
“So, let’s go to our rooms, put on our slutty tops and meet back down here in an hour. Guys, make sure if you go to a strip club tonight, you dust off the glitter before you come back into Max’s mansion. His live-in maid is on vacation—I wish I was joking.”
Max rolls his eyes. “She’s my house manager. This place is huge and I’m not here enough to handle it.”
“We got it, Christian Grey. You’re super humble.” Kate waves him off and Miles lifts her down from the barstool as everybody breaks away to their prospective rooms.
Max exhales heavily and turns to Dean. “Is she going to be like this all weekend?”
“Worse, Max. Much, much worse.” Dean throws his arm around my shoulders, drenching me in his appealing manly scent as he begins leading me away. “Allow me to show you to our room so you can get ready, sugar bottom.”
“Does the sugar thing really have to stick?”
He frowns down at me. “You’re a baker…I thought you’d love that endearment.”
“I think you can do better, Moser.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
Our bedroom is on the main level at the end of a long hallway that leads out to a lit-up veranda with tons of outdoor seating. There are some caterers outside that appear to be setting up for the girls’ dinner. Dean opens the door around the corner and steps back to let me walk in first.
As soon as I see our room for the weekend, the butterflies erupt in my belly again. There’s a giant four-poster bed that looks like a slice of beige heaven. The carpet is lush and bouncy beneath my feet and when I turn, I mosey over to check out the attached bathroom.
My jaw drops when I see floor-to-ceiling windows right next to a lush soaker tub overlooking stunning mountains. Beside the tub is a shower that looks straight out of a billionaire’s magazine…if that is a thing. The tub is lovely with jets and the whole shebang, but the glass shower has double heads, back massagers, and a steamer.
Holy shit, I’m never going to want to leave this bathroom.
Out of nowhere, my mind does this weird segue into some sort of carnal cavewoman and the thoughts that echo in my head are horrifying:
Sex.
Shower sex.
Tub sex.
Dean naked.
Me naked with Dean.
Dean’s ass that looks really good in those jeans pressed up against the glass window for all those aspens to see.
Dean’s big, warm hands cupping my breasts as he presses me to—
“Norah.” Dean says my name and I jump, my hands flying to my chest as I try to stop my heart from lurching from my body. “Did you hear me?”
“No, what?” I stutter and struggle to breathe because the bathroom suddenly feels ten times smaller now that he’s in here with me.
“I said I’d take the couch.” He straightens his glasses and frowns at me like he’s debating if I need CPR.
“Oh…um…okay.” I dip my head and scurry out of the bathroom, taking in big gulps of air.
I spot my suitcase on the sofa beneath the large bay window and make my way over to it like a lifeline. If I can focus on my bag, Dean can’t see my red cheeks, and I’ll have time to stop thinking about sex or showers or naked bodies.
Damn him. Why did he have to bring up sex in the car? I was doing just fine until he opened his big, stupid, flirtatious mouth.
With shaky hands, I unzip my suitcase, and the second I peel open the flap, my entire body seizes in panic. I gasp and slam it closed as fast as humanly possible.
“What’s the matter?” Dean asks, his footsteps heavy as he rushes over to stand beside me. He stares at my suitcase that I’m white-knuckled