Insatiable Park Avenue Prince (Park Avenue Princes Book 2)
Insatiable Park Avenue Prince: Chapter 18

YOU’VE GOT TO be fucking shittin’ me.

I stood on the pavement opposite the Towers and peered up at the elegant skyscrapers that were now a permanent part of the Manhattan skyline—and apparently were Donovan lived.

I figured the guy came from money, but this? This was on a whole other level. A level I hadn’t ever been a part of and hadn’t ever expected to be. Which was obvious as I glanced down at my t-shirt, jeans, and booted feet and wondered if they’d let me through the door.

I wasn’t exactly dressed to visit or stay at a five-star hotel, but I figured if worse came to worse, I’d just call Donovan and have him let me up.

As a break in traffic opened up, I jogged across the street and made my way under the covered drop-off area and over to the doors of the lobby, where a man in a full suit-and-tie uniform opened the door.

“Good evening, sir. Welcome to the Towers.”

I gave him a friendly grin and nodded. “Thanks. Um, could you point me in the direction of the reception desk?”

“Of course. Which one?”

Which one? How many were there? “Uh, the one for the condos?”

The man smiled and then gestured inside, where the marble floor reflected the bright lights hanging from the ceiling.

“Head straight inside and it’ll be the last one on the right. Sofia will show you to the elevators that lead up to the residences from there.”

I did my best not to look as overwhelmed as I felt, smiling in thanks before I made my way across the polished floors and inside one of the most opulent buildings I’d ever set foot in.

The Waldorf Astoria was a New York icon, one that had been splashed on magazines and billboards throughout the city and the world, inviting you to come and stay. But to actually be walking inside something so grand and knowing your date lived here? It was a little intimidating, to say the least.

Good thing I wasn’t easily intimidated.

I spotted the reception desk as I stepped out of the hall and into the main lobby. It was as sleek as the rest of the entrance, with its geometric patterns and silver and gold trims. I headed to where a stylish woman stood, and she offered a welcoming smile much like the doorman had.

“Welcome to the Towers. How can I help you this evening?”

When Donovan had texted his condo number and address, he’d left instructions to tell reception that I was there to see him and they’d let me up.

“Thanks. This place is amazing.”

Her eyes sparkled under the lights as she looked around the beautiful space she called an office. “First time?”

“Yeah.” I chuckled. “It is that obvious?”

“Maybe a little, but don’t worry, everyone reacts the same way.”

I wasn’t sure if she was being honest or just trying to make me feel better, because God only knew, if Donovan could afford to live here, then he’d definitely been inside hotels like this before.

“It’s impressive. Anyway, I’m here to see Donovan Truitt.”

“Oh yes. Kelly Sinclair?” When I nodded, her smile widened. “He told me to expect you. You’re going to head down the hall over here, and the second elevator will take you where you need to go.”

That sounded easy enough. “What floor is it I need?”

“Don’t worry, the elevator knows where to go. All you have to do is go down and step inside. I’ll take care of the rest.”

What did she mean? How would it know where to stop if I didn’t enter the floor number?

“Remember, elevator two. Have a good night.”

I planned to, but that was kind of dependent on reaching the man waiting for me somewhere inside this building.

Trusting the woman knew what she was talking about, I walked down the hall to where several gold doors lined the wall and stopped in front of the second—as soon as I did, the door slid open.

“Holy shit.” I looked at the walls and above the door but saw no buttons, no floor numbers, just a fancy elevator car that would apparently take me where I needed to go. I stepped inside, and as the door shut, my phone started to ring.

What do you know, it was the man I was here to see.

“Hey, you.” I leaned against the back rail, feeling my heart pounding a little harder at the idea I would see Donovan in a couple of seconds. “I somehow worked out how to get into this fancy-ass elevator of yours and am on my way up.”

“You’re in the elevator?” He sounded a little panicked, but I had to be reading him wrong. He’d invited me here. Had he changed his mind?

“Is everything okay?”

I thought I heard him curse, and then he said, “So, uh, on second thought, there’s no need to hang out at my place. We can just go out.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s fine, but I’m actually on your floor now.” The door opened, and I stepped out into the hallway.

“Don’t move,” he said quickly. “Do me a favor and just stay right where you are for, like, five minutes.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, just trust me. Five minutes and I’ll meet you in the hall.”

I paused for a beat, not sure whether to trust that everything was all right or if this was some quirk showing itself. “If you’re being held hostage, say banana.”

“No, it’s nothing like that. Stay there, don’t knock—I’ll see you in five.”

“Got it,” I said, but Donovan had already hung up.

I shoved my cell in my pocket and glanced at the closed door of his place. What the hell was going on in there that he didn’t want me to knock? Or come inside? It couldn’t be that it was a mess. If he could afford a place like this, he wasn’t the one cleaning it.

With no clue what could be wrong, I leaned against the wall, staying close to the elevator, and crossed my arms to wait it out.

The door to Donovan’s apartment flew open suddenly, and a sharply dressed, dark-headed guy stood in the door, calling over his shoulder, “I need more vodka to deal with this. If you want something different, get it yourself.”

He walked out and the door slammed shut behind him, and the guy started in my direction, but the second his eyes landed on me, he stopped short.

Wait, I’d seen him before. The night of my party he’d been in the VIP section with Donovan—but I couldn’t remember much about any of the guys that had been there outside the one I’d had my eye on.

Surprise turned into something more devious as his eyes sparkled and his lips curled up. “Well, well, well,” he said, slipping his hands into the pockets of his tailored pants as he sauntered toward me. “What do we have here?”

The long once-over he gave me from head to toe was bold, I’d give him that. Especially for someone whose name I couldn’t remember.

“Sin, isn’t it?” he said, that smirk growing. “I’d ask what brings you here, but I have a feeling I already know the answer. The question is, what are you doing in the hall?”

His tone was goading, and though I didn’t know why, I also knew I didn’t really care. I kept my casual position against the wall and said, “And you are?”

“East. We met the night of your party.”

“Right.”

I could tell it chafed him a bit that I didn’t remember him much, because he seemed like the type that expected everyone to be on a first-name basis with him. Entitled was the word that came to mind, from the smug look on his face to the pretentious scarf around his neck.

“Donovan’s manners are downright shameful, leaving you all by yourself out here. Why don’t you come inside? I’ll make you a drink.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“I insist,” he said, walking backward and inclining his head for me to follow. “And before you refuse, I should let you know there’s no loitering in the building. Management can be quite strict about that, and, well, I’d hate to have to make a call.”

I narrowed my eyes as the challenge in his grew, and I almost told the guy to fuck right off.

Until my curiosity over what exactly was happening inside that room won out.

“One drink,” I said, pushing off the wall and moving past him.

But what I saw once I stepped inside was not what I’d expected.

Animated voices echoed around the space, laughter and shouts of disbelief, but too many were talking all at once for me to catch what they were saying. To the right, a couple of guys poured drinks in the kitchen, and to the left, several more were spread out along couches and chairs, while on the massive TV played—

Oh fuck.

My lips parted at the scene playing out—me railing Donovan against a wall—and I realized then why he’d wanted me to wait outside.

“Look who I found out in the hall,” East boomed from behind me. “The star of our show.”

Other than the raw sounds of us fucking on the screen, the room went dead silent as, one by one, every guy turned in my direction, eyes widening when they saw me.

I quickly noticed Donovan wasn’t among the group, but I could hear the faint sound of a shower running from somewhere in the condo. Did he know his friends were watching this? That it was him? They had to, right? It was why he’d been so cagey about my coming inside.

Nodding at the TV, I said, “Enjoying the show?”

“Not as much as you.” The comment came from the flashy one on the couch wearing what looked like—eyeliner? Unless his eyes were just that dark.

“I don’t know about that.” I ran my eyes over him and noticed the distinct outline of his erection. “You seem to be getting your money’s worth. Or at least you plan to the next time you’re alone.”

The guy on the couch closest to me let out a booming laugh as he looked over at his friend, who was now covering his lap with a pillow.

“Busted, Trav,” the tawny-haired one said, “or should we say you need to go and bust one?”

The flashy one—wait, he’d said his name was Travis at the club—flipped him off. “Shut the fuck up. I don’t see you standing to greet him.”

“None of you assholes are in any condition to greet him,” a surly-looking guy sitting away from the rest of the group said. “Unless we count Gavin. But I’m pretty sure he’s tossin’ his cookies in the bathroom.”

“What did you expect?” East said as he sidled up beside me, a delighted gleam in his eye. “Watching his brother get pounded that way is just…sinful. Wouldn’t you say?”

Oh Jesus. Donovan’s brother had seen this?

Okay, it was one thing for Donovan’s friends to bear witness to my many talents. But to know Gavin’s brother had seen it too? No wonder Donovan was freaking out.

“It’s not like he knew it was his brother when he watched it.”

Everyone’s eyes turned from me to the strait-laced one at the far end of one of the couches. He was dressed as though he’d spent the day at the office, and for all I knew, he might have. Just because Donovan was in school didn’t mean the rest of them were.

“Ah, Preston Abernathy.” East chuckled. “Condoning brotherly love.”

Preston’s eyes narrowed on the shithead—I was pretty confident that was the best term for him—beside me.

“That’s not what I said at all.” He sighed, seemingly annoyed, and I noticed that he was able to get to his feet quite easily. “Since no one else here has bothered, I’m Preston.”

He leaned over and held out his hand. Such a formal greeting, considering my naked ass was currently filling the screen.

I took the offered hand, grateful at least that one person in this group seemed somewhat normal.

“Don’t worry about the rest of these guys—they’re still trying to wrap their heads around the fact that the guy they’ve been fantasizing about for the past two weeks is standing in their friend’s living room.”

As my eyes traveled around the room, I became more than aware of the appreciative once-overs I was being subjected to. Not a bad boost for the ego when you considered the other source of entertainment available to them at that moment.

“That and we’re trying not to cry over the fact that Van won’t tell us how it felt to be impaled with—”

“West.” The sweet-faced guy sitting beside West clamped a hand over his mouth as his cheeks turned the same color as a tomato. “I’m JT, and this is my boyfriend, West.”

East’s snort didn’t escape me or JT, by the narrowed eyes he aimed in East’s direction.

“Feeling the need to lay claim, Golden Boy?”

“Ignore East,” JT added. “We all do.”

Seemed JT and I already had something in common—our dislike of East.

“And the rest of us,” Preston said, turning back to face the others. “Travis, with the pillow. Daire in the back there, and Gavin and Donovan, well, they’ll be out soon.”

Not soon enough, I thought as the sound of Donovan shouting out his release had everyone’s attention returning to the screen.

Oh hell, I knew exactly what was about to happen next.

The room fell silent as Donovan said, “You already got what you wanted,” and I replied, “Not yet I didn’t.”

And despite the fact I was standing in a room full of strangers who were glued to what I was doing, naked, on screen, to their friend, my dick jerked as I watched myself push Donovan to his knees in the rain.

I glanced around to room to see that Travis had scooted forward to the edge of his seat, and West had his hand over JT’s where it rested on his lap, as rain pummeled my naked body and I got myself off, shooting my load all over Donovan’s masked face.

“Oh. My. God.”

Donovan’s all-too-familiar voice broke through the sound of my heavy breathing from the surround sound system. When I looked past his friends to see him there fresh-faced, damp-haired, and so fucking gorgeous I wanted to kneel at his feet, I didn’t care what shit his friends had just put me through.

It was worth it just to be back in his presence.

Something he didn’t feel in return, I was guessing, since he stormed into the living room and snatched the remote out of Daire’s hand.

“I told you assholes to turn this off and get the hell out. Why are you still here?”

East sauntered over to Donovan, not worried, it seemed, that his friend looked close to committing murder.

“Because we found this”—he turned and gestured to me—“waiting on your doorstep like a lost little puppy—”

“More like a ferocious lion,” Travis added. I clearly had a fan in that one.

Donovan turned apologetic eyes my way. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? Because we brought him inside and showed him some hospitality? We couldn’t just leave him out there,” East continued, and Donovan glared at him.

“Yes, you could’ve. You brought him in here to try to humiliate him.”

“No. I brought him in here to show him how much we all…admire him.”

“Okay, well, you’ve had your fun, and now you can all fuck off.”

“Aw, is that any way to talk to your friends?”

“It’s the only way to talk to you.”

“It’s okay,” I said, walking over to Donovan, not about to let any of these guys—especially East—think I was bothered by him. “I’m flattered they all subscribe and watch. Sometimes that’s all a guy has, a laptop and his own hand.” Donovan’s lips twitched as I reached him and took his chin between my fingers. Then I angled his face up and brushed my lips over his. “You have me.”

Donovan hummed against my mouth as a pillow hit the side of us, and we turned to see Travis on his feet.

“Okay, you don’t have to rub it in.”

“Really?” Donovan took my hand and tossed the remote on his kitchen counter. “That’s all you’ve been doing since you found out I made a—”

“Fuck film?” Daire suggested, and Donovan shook his head.

“Whatever. But now the fun’s over. Time for you to leave. We’re going out.”

“Out?” West perked up at that, and Donovan groaned.

“No, you can’t come.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. Think of it this way. If we come with you, we won’t be at home coming because of you.”

Donovan pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned, but I couldn’t stop my chuckle. While these guys were a lot for anyone to take, I had to admit that their openness and jokes about my job made the stress of their replaceing out what I did for a living less of a factor.

“It’s okay,” I told the worried man beside me. “I don’t mind.”

“You say that now…”

“And I’ll say it again later. I don’t care who comes tonight, as long as by the end of it, we do.” I kissed Donovan’s temple. “Together.”

He turned that gorgeous face up to mine and whispered, “Deal.”