Take Me On. Dylan Rose

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       CHAPTER ONE

      MACKENZIE FOX SAT in the back of a car, en route from the airport to her hotel, and already she was sweltering. It wasn’t just the lack of A/C. The driver had rolled the windows down, letting in a gust of hot air that swept across her cheek each time the car picked up speed as they rolled down Collins Avenue. Plus, she was seriously overdressed. Attired in her go-to travel outfit—comfy black leggings, Ugg boots and a zip-up sweatshirt emblazoned with Honor Yoga, the name of the studio she owned back in Brooklyn—she knew she looked like an out-of-place New Yorker. Just a few short hours ago she was slugging through the slushy February streets, bundled up against the frigid temperatures.

      Glancing out the window, she could see the heat rising off the hot bodies that filled the sidewalks. A woman in a pair of jean shorts cut so high that her perfectly rounded bottom was almost completely visible. A group of girls laughing as they crossed the street at an intersection, wearing nothing but neon string bikinis, their bodies bouncing and glistening as they walked. Jogging alongside the cab was a perfectly chiseled man running with his shirt off, with warm brown skin. She noted the beads of sweat glistening on his chest and back and imagined he tasted like salted caramel.

      Whew! She had only been in Miami less than an hour and already Kenzie was feeling the heat.

      Just as the car pulled up to the entrance of the legendary Fontainebleau Hotel, Kenzie snuck a glance at her appearance in the rearview mirror. She pulled her long, curly brown hair into a messy bun on the top of her head and reapplied a swipe of her signature crimson gloss to her lips. The driver, an older man with tanned, wrinkled skin and hair graying at the temples, gave her a wink.

      “Enjoy Miami, chica.”

      “Thanks,” Kenzie said, opening the door and slinging her only luggage—a small overnight bag—over her shoulder.

      But Kenzie wasn’t here to enjoy herself. It wasn’t that she didn’t need a longer vacation. God knows, she could use a break from the seemingly endless string of blizzards they were experiencing back home. But this trip was all about business, not pleasure. And it was business she was eager to get out of the way.

      A week ago, to the day, her great-aunt Lilly had passed away. Having never met the woman, Kenzie didn’t think it necessary to fly down for the funeral. But within a day of hearing the news, a lawyer had contacted her, letting her know that she was named in Aunt Lilly’s will. There were a few pieces of family jewelry, a savings bond, and most interestingly, a stake in a small rum distillery.

      When the attorney mentioned there was an interested party willing to buy out her share, Kenzie was relieved. Not only did she have no interest in running a distillery, the money from the sale would likely allow her studio to stay in business, despite the astronomical rent hike her landlord had slapped her with earlier that month. Although her business was profitable, the skyrocketing city rents were in danger of putting her out of business.

      Kenzie entered the palatial lobby and was heading toward the front desk when a voice stopped her in her tracks. She turned toward the bar where the laughter was coming from and her eyes landed on an olive-skinned man in dark blue jeans, a black T-shirt and a sports jacket. He was seated next to a scantily-clad, beautiful Latina. Apparently, whatever he had said was extremely amusing because the woman was laughing with her head thrown back, a long mane of hair cascading down her spine. The man, dark-haired with a strong face and piercing brown eyes, looked past his companion and momentarily locked eyes with Kenzie, sending a shiver up her back. He flashed her what was most certainly a devilish smile before turning his gaze back to the woman.

      Wow. Kenzie unzipped the front of her sweatshirt, pulled out a magazine from her bag and fanned herself furiously as she waited to check in. It had been a while since she had experienced this kind of instant attraction to someone. There was something animalistic about the way he had looked at her, with those dark eyes peering out between strands of his black hair, which was just long enough to be sexy. In that brief glance, she had taken in the entirety of his perfect form. Her mouth went dry as she imagined the mysterious stranger kissing the sensitive spot on her neck that always sent the blood rushing straight to her nether regions, causing her nipples to harden and her insides to melt like butter.

      “Bottle of water, miss?” asked the desk clerk.

      “Yes!” Kenzie croaked, stepping up to the desk and taking the bottle, relieved at the opportunity to cool down this fire that a stranger had suddenly ignited.

      “How many keys will you be needing?” asked the clerk as she typed quickly on her computer.

      “Just one,” Kenzie answered. Just one had been the answer to that question for quite a long time now. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested, but with running her own business, the last thing she had time for was dating. Ever since her fiancé Cole’s death a few years ago, she had thrown herself into her work—and it had paid off. Sure, there had been interest from many guys, mostly fellow yogis who showed up at her studio or hung around the vegetarian café she frequented in her neighborhood. She was a bit ashamed to admit it but in recent months she had found herself craving something a little bit...meatier.

      With the key to her room in hand, Kenzie took the elevator up to the 28th floor and found her room at the end of the hallway. Opening the doors, she sighed at the sight of the giant, king-size bed at the center of the room. Further exploration revealed a serene bathroom with a claw-foot tub, and out on the balcony, a view of the ocean. Her first idea was to strip off all her clothes, get into the plush bathrobe the hotel provided and plop herself down on the bed in front of the TV and order room service. But then she thought of Missy, one of the yoga instructors at the studio, and how disappointed she’d be if all she did in Miami was binge-watch Queer Eye. “You need to get out there and have some fun!” her friend had told her.

      Kenzie had a flash of the handsome stranger from the bar’s devilish grin and, wondering if he was still down there, opened her carry-on and pulled out a silky, magenta slip dress she had tossed in her bag as an afterthought.

      Why not? she thought to herself, kicking off her boots, and pulling off her too-heavy clothing until she was standing naked in front of the giant mirror positioned directly in front of the bed. Kenzie caught a glimpse of herself and couldn’t help but smile. It was true—she had a pretty rockin’ body, and it was hard-earned, with many hours spent running, doing yoga, challenging herself both physically and mentally. She swiveled her hips to the side, checking out what her friends referred to as her “yoga butt,” which was ample and firm. Kenzie slipped the flimsy dress over her naked breasts, thought about putting her bra back on for a moment and then decided against it. A tiny pair of black panties and heels completed the look. Letting her curls loose from the bun, they cascaded over her creamy white shoulders. Now that was more like it!

      Back down in the lobby, Kenzie made a beeline for the bar but was dismayed to see that the handsome stranger was no longer there. СКАЧАТЬ