Page 1 of Nova

Prologue

Six Months Ago

“Another?”

I sigh as I tap the bar to acknowledge the bartender’s question. I had another hour to kill before my client arrived.

I’d flown into Vegas for a job with a regular. She was a pleasant older widow who needed a little eye candy on her arm for a corporate event. She pays well and never asks for…extras.

When you’re a male escort, that is a plus.

Gladys’s flight was late, so here I am, sitting at a random bar on the Strip, waiting, drinking, and thinking.

Those last two never go well together.

I love what I do, and I protect my employees fiercely. I have two loving families that I wouldn’t trade for all the world, but yet I feel empty. Something is definitely missing, and the older I get, the more pronounced that vacancy grows.

It’s a hole in my chest that I try to fill with sex.

Some may call it an addiction. I call it a work hazard.

The bartender delivers my second drink as the front doors burst open. I turn to see what all the commotion is about and lock eyes with the most magnificent woman I’ve ever seen.

Her eyes are full of tears, and I’m standing to kill whoever’s hurt her in an instant.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

This chick is a complete stranger, but my chest is burning to right her wrongs.

“Simone, wait! It wasn’t what you think!” A tall, muscular man chases her as she moves to stay out of his reach.

“Are you fucking serious? So your dick just fell into my sister’s mouth during her wedding rehearsal? Right.” She throws the words over her shoulder as she heads my way.

I take my seat again but never drop my gaze.

“Simone, please let me explain.” Her purse lands next to my arm, and her arm flies up to get the bartender’s attention like an eager student in a classroom.

I lift my drink to my lips, white-knuckled.

She smells fucking amazing. It’s taking all my will power not to wrap my arm around her waist and pull her onto my lap to get her away from the douchebag still trying to talk to her.

“White wine,” she sighs the words as if she’s praying the alcohol she ordered would right her world.

I turn my eyes to the guy. Tyler? Yeah, that name fits him. He had Trust Fund, a country club asshole, written all over his stance.

He catches me watching them and sneers at me.

I raise an eyebrow and size him up. When I look back at his face he swallows hard.

That’s right, asshole. I’m no one to be fucked with.

“It was one last time!” Wow.

I can’t even hide my chuckle at this idiot’s words.

She turned to him slowly, and the motherfucker had the decency to drop his eyes when he realized his epic mistake. I sit back, ready to watch the show, and take another sip of my whiskey.

“Last time? Tell me, Tyler, how often have you been fucking my sister? Does your brother know?” I choke on her words.

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