First Taste (The Lust List: Devon Stone #1)

by Mira Bailee

  It was a Friday, and I was still high when I finally left to pick up my little brother. I’d be late, but fourteen-year-old Jared couldn’t do anything about it even if he did get mad. I was doing him the favor. Pulling into the high school, I was too busy thinking up excuses for my teachers in case they noticed me in my car. I didn’t notice the cluster of police cars blocking my usual route to the parking lots until I had to slam on my brakes to avoid rear-ending one of them.

  “Shit.”

  I looked around, paranoid. Did anybody see me do that?

  That’s when I noticed the fire truck. The ambulance. The flashing lights from the cop cars. The ‘Do Not Cross’ yellow tape. All blocking off the familiar entrance to the woods to the right of the school. So many kids—including myself—took that path leading to a half-assed tree house built by some freshmen several years before. A group of seniors back then had taken it over, and ever since it’s where we’d all go to skip a class or smoke a cigarette or compare the tastes of the liquor we’d stolen from our parents, hiding it in our makeshift flasks of lotion bottles and medicine containers. But our safe-haven would never be the same.

  * * *

  I take a deep breath, not wanting to remember the rest. I glance at the clock hanging on the wall near a cheerful inspirational poster encouraging me to persevere. This appointment was so close to being over. Thank god.

  As I focus on pushing back all those past feelings and memories, it’s like my veins harden and my blood turns cold. I stiffen in my seat and repeat the same truth that’s haunted me since I was seventeen.

  “If I’d been on time, Jared would still be alive.”

  An excited voice greets me from the kitchen. “You get the job?”

  I get home right as Maddie is pulling out a freshly nuked pizza from the microwave. She knows I see a therapist, and she knows about my brother, but I made it clear when we first met two years ago that I didn’t want to talk about it. Maddie’s the type to respect that without pushing it. A part of me is certain it’s because she wouldn’t know how to react if we did have deep conversations about my past. I’ve rarely seen a bad day from bubbly, live-for-the-moment Maddie. I’d hate to bring her down with my issues, and instead, I try to live vicariously through her free-spirited nature.

  Over the past several months, I’ve suspected she goes out of her way to form some sort of distraction after my appointments with Dr. Shannon. She never confirmed it, but she’s always put extra effort into taking my mind off of everything when I get home. Tonight, she’s doing so with pizza.

  I set my things on the counter right as my phone buzzes for my 5:00 alarm. Shutting it off, I ignore Maddie side-eyeing me. I grab a cardboard slice of sauce and imitation cheese and plop into a chair instead.

  “I did, but it’s more complicated than that,” I say, burning my tongue on the first bite of my food.

  Maddie joins me at the table. She sports a low-cut tank top and jeans that must cut off her circulation, but not only does she pull off the look—heels and all—she is convincingly comfortable on top of it. If I tried to imitate her, I’d come out resembling a suffocating raccoon with 80s hair. I could use a dose of her confidence.

  “Speak, woman,” she says, kicking me under the table.

  How do I summarize the events of this day? Where do I start?

  “Well… The interview was at this ridiculous mansion. You should’ve seen it.”

  “Ooh,” Maddie’s eyes widen. “Rich boss?”

  “No, it belongs to the family we’ll be planning a party for.”

  “That’ll be fun. Do they need a bartender?”

  I laugh. “I’ll keep my ear out. Unfortunately, the boss is a complete jerk. He wasn’t going to give me the job, but Devon—um, one of the guys in this family—insisted I get it.”

  Maddie stops mid-chew. “Wait. What? What guy?”

  Do I describe our up-close-and-personal encounter when he was hovering over me? Or do I tell her how he completely crossed the line of flirting and invited me to sleep with him? Or do I tell her about how he blew me off and left without a word?

  “Just some guy.”

  I try my hardest to keep a straight face, but a rogue smile gives me away. Maddie stares me down waiting for more information.

  “It’s nothing! I just ran into him before the interview. And then again after. When he found out Keenly—my new boss—had rejected me, he…well, he basically went in and threatened the man.”

  “Really? But why?” She catches herself and holds her hands up to stop me from misunderstanding her. “I mean, you’re awesome, and you’ll rock this job, and anyone should know that. But I’m confused. Who is this guy? Someone you knew? Why was he quick to jump to your defense like that?”

  I laugh at her excitement, particularly because… “You don’t even know what the job is,” I say, but I answer so she doesn’t have to ask. “I’m now the assistant to the head event coordinator at Platinum Planning.”

  “I’ve heard of them before. Nice work.”

  “And to answer your other questions, the guy’s Devon. I’ve never seen him before—I don’t think. I mean, he looked a little familiar, but he’s definitely not someone I’ve talked to before. And he said he did it to piss off my boss.”

  Maddie arches an eyebrow. “Come on, girl. That’s hard to believe. If he didn’t know you, and he helped you out like that… It means he thought you were hot. You said he lives in this mansion?”

  I ignore her theory. He may have hit on me, but he also made it clear he wasn’t doing me a favor. “I don’t know if he does. His family does though. He was there fighting with his dad. It’s no big deal. It was just a strange encounter. That’s all.”

  “That’s far from all. You’re just getting started.” Maddie fumbles through her purse and pulls out her phone. “Where’s this mansion? Who are these people?”

  “Over by the beach? And I said I don’t know. Keenly said they’re important. He mentioned pretentious sounding things like ‘Hollywood elite’ and ‘American royalty’. It was incredibly uncomfortable, and you know how I am. I can’t handle that sort of attention and limelight. I’d be a blubbering mess—I was a blubbering mess. So I don’t even know what to expect from this part—”

  “You said his name’s Devon?”

  “Yeah.”

  She taps at her phone screen and listens to me simultaneously. I’m used to this conversational multitasking with her. “And he’s from a rich family who throws frequent Hollywood parties?”

  “That’s pretty much everyone who’s anyone in this city, but yeah. What’s your point?”

  “Is this your knight in shining armor—the guy who just defended your honor so you’d work in his home?”

  She holds her phone out for me to see. It’s open to some tabloid site. I squint to read the smaller print. ScandalLust Magazine.

  The Lust List.

  3. Devon Stone.

  And then there’s a photo. Wet hair. Unbuttoned shirt. A body I can’t describe without wanting to touch it—toned chest, defined abs, low-rise jeans that make my imagination do embarrassing things. And those piercing blue eyes.

  Oh my god.

  It’s him. Devon. And I feel like I’m seeing something I shouldn’t. Something private, but it’s posted online. And he’s apparently one of “the most desired bachelors in the world”.

  I have no words.

  “Liv? Is this him?”

  I meet her gaze, and the little bit of pizza I’ve eaten is threatening to make a reappearance. I nod my head slowly.

  “Holy shit. You aren’t lying.” She gives a little squeal and stomps her heels against the scratched linoleum floor.

  I shake my head no. I couldn’t make this up if I tried. But why did he—what did he see in me?

  “You struck gold today, girl. What are you going to do?”

  “Is it too late to decline the job offer?”

  “Oh hell no. Look at this.” She holds the phone out again but twists it
back so she can stare too. “The things I could do…”

  “Maddie!”

  “Sorry. The things you could do.”

  I glare at her. “You realize how ridiculous this is. Today must have been some fluke. A guy like that? They don’t go for girls like me. I’m sure he has a supermodel girlfriend or something.”

  “Says right here, ‘Good news, ladies. Devon is currently single. Better act fast. It won’t be for long.’ Hear that? Better act fast, Liv.”

  I stand up, no longer hungry, and dump the rest of my pizza into the trashcan while Maddie reads random facts from her phone. “‘Devon Stone—of the Stone Record Label mass empire is up against his twin brother, Kaidan, to take over the reins when their father—and founder of the label—retires next year.’ Ew, you realize that guy is super old and dating Serena Lynn?”

  “That sounds like it’ll last.” Serena Lynn is the current trend of the music charts. Every single seems to be huge before it even hits the radio. Meanwhile, she’s in a relationship with someone who could be her grandfather.

  “Anyway,” Maddie continues. “Devon’s twenty-eight and the notorious bad boy of the family…Last serious girlfriend was Tempest Ultra singer, Kennedy Rose, but they broke up two years ago. Now he prefers one-night stands and disappearing from the spotlight for weeks at a time. Ooh, maybe you can disappear with him. Wonder where he goes…”

  “You know how hard it was to speak to him? Could you imagine me dating him?”

  Maddie contemplates it for a second. I’m sure she knows me well enough to know I’m not celebrity girlfriend material. Girlfriend? Why am I even thinking these terms? Maddie’s revelation about him makes it even more apparent we’re from vastly different worlds. I work for him. Period.

  I respond to Maddie’s continued silence. “Exactly. Nothing will happen. Hell, I’ll try to get you into the party, and you can date him. You could make it down a red carpet without tripping.”

  “As much as I like the challenge, I have a feeling I’d much rather watch how this all pans out for you.”

  I snatch up the new hire paperwork and retreat to my room. I’d bombed the interview. I should’ve left quicker. Now, I can’t comprehend what I’ve gotten myself into.

  I’m struggling to fill out these forms. It’s all basic information about taxes and depositing my paychecks and confidentiality agreements, but my mind is reeling from everything Maddie just told me.

  Devon Stone.

  He’d been inches from my face. He’d given me an open invitation to have sex with him. And I find out he’s actually somebody?

  Pushing the paperwork aside, I open my laptop and type ‘Devon Stone’ into an online search engine. Maddie had figured him out so easily. What else did I not know about him?

  The image results show me a collection of candid and modeled shots of Devon. Some fully dressed. Others…not so much. There’s even a photo of him in a tux standing with his brother. Kaidan is the same level of sexy, and I can’t help but wonder how many women have tried to hook up with both hot twins.

  Below the images are news articles, mostly from trashy tabloid sites. I’m afraid to click on any of them as I read through their headlines.

  “Devon Stone Arrested Again. You Won’t Believe What He Did This Time”

  “Rose May Have the Key to His Heart, But Who’s Got the Key for the Cuffs?”

  “Stone Pulled Over, Friend Taken in for Cocaine Possession”

  I slam the laptop shut and try not to think about it as I grab clothes and head toward the shower. I’m calling it an early night. If that’s just the tip of the iceberg with Devon, I have no interest in finding out the rest.

  In the bathroom, I start the water and take a long look at myself in the mirror. Why would he come on to me? I’m not hideous, but I couldn’t be more ordinary. My long, auburn hair’s been cut recently enough that it still has some bounce. And I’ve always favored how my eyes are more gray than blue. Otherwise, I’m not much for makeup, and I’m not as fit as I wish I were. But Devon didn’t seem to care, so that should boost my confidence a little.

  I undress and step into the shower, focusing on clearing my mind. But I can’t stop thinking about him.

  He’d be awful for me—not that he’s the kind of guy seeking a relationship. His proposition today proved that. But even if it were just a fling, it would require me to completely let go of who I am. I’d no longer be in control, I’m sure of it. Just as I’m certain he doesn’t play by the rules.

  The hot water runs down my skin and steams up the bathroom as I shampoo my hair. I’m finding it hard to breathe. But instead of nerves, it’s from the images of Devon I can’t get out of my head. The photos of him half-naked and so serious. So powerful. And the headlines. His strange behavior with me. He’s a risk taker. He’s reckless.

  He’s trouble.

  What would it be like to be with him? To have that confidence, that self-assurance on top of me, staring down at me intently as he thrusts in and out and…

  I reach down and spin the temperature knob to cold.

  Maybe in another life.

  But in this one, Devon Stone couldn’t be more wrong for me.

  * * *

  When I return to my room, I feel more flustered than when I left. Sitting at my desk, I glance at the half-filled forms, then at my closed laptop. Then back to the forms. I grab my phone opting, instead, to schedule my day tomorrow. An alarm to wake up. One to leave.

  But I don’t know what else I’m doing tomorrow. I hate not being able to plan for it, so I set one more for 11:15 to sit down and add any others. They keep me on track, I don’t care what Dr. Shannon says. They’re harmless, and they help me.

  Messing with my phone only wasted a minute of this night, and I find myself staring at the fruit-shaped inlay on top of my closed laptop. I open it, and the search results for Devon are still on the screen. Unable to contain my curiosity, I open the one that stood out to me the most:

  “Rose May Have the Key to His Heart, But Who’s Got the Key for the Cuffs?”

  Our favorite bad boy of the Stone Empire is making headlines again. Devon Stone can’t seem to settle down even now that he has the beautiful Kennedy Rose (Tempest Ultra) faithfully at his side.

  This article is from over two years ago. A picture to the right shows Devon with his hair a little longer than it was today and subtle facial hair that makes his jawline even stronger. Next to him, a gorgeous woman smiles. She has spunky, short hair dyed pitch black and porcelain skin covered in bold makeup. It’s obvious she’s a rock star, and I could never follow that act. She’s stunning and exudes personality. She could handle Devon.

  I scroll down, skimming through the article hoping to learn more about “the key to his heart”.

  Even Rose can’t tame this one. On Saturday, June 2, she and Stone were on a flight to Miami when a First Class fight broke out. Stone was taken into custody after allegedly starting a physical altercation with another passenger. He managed to get one punch in before air marshals restrained them. Stone remained under the marshals’ supervision until the plane landed safely at its original destination.

  It goes on to explain how Calvin Stone, his father, flew over in his private jet to bail him out, but I’m more distracted by the photo that’s appeared on the left.

  A very angry Devon Stone. Handcuffed. A solemn look on his face as he’s being escorted by someone in a uniform.

  I don’t know why this appeals to me. But Devon’s messy hair. His clenched jaw. The metal restraints forcing his hands behind his back.

  I feel an ache deep inside as I look at him and think back to how close he was to me earlier.

  And how I’ll see him again tomorrow.

  I’m entirely too turned on by this.

  The paperwork may be ready, but I certainly am not. I’m wearing another one of Maddie’s dresses, this one’s light blue with short sleeves, and I’m reminded I have no idea what I’m going to wear to the party itself. Standing in front of th
e mirror, I fix my hair for the twentieth time and double check that my tinted lip-gloss isn’t on my teeth.

  My breath is minty fresh. I remembered antiperspirant. I even put a couple coats of matte gray on my nails.

  “You remember you’re just going to work right?” Maddie appears in the bathroom doorway, eyeing me suspiciously.

  Yesterday was spent convincing myself, with clear proof to substantiate it, that Devon and I would never work. But this morning, I seem to have woken up with amnesia. The mere thought that I might run into him again is sending waves of exhilaration through my veins. And I’m nervous as hell.

  My heart flutters, and an involuntary smile gives me away.

  “…Unless you’re planning on following through on some other scheme?” Maddie says.

  “What? No. Just work.” I push past her and go to my room to finish getting ready. “Don’t overthink it, Maddie,” I call to her.

  “I don’t think I’m the one you need to tell that to.”

  I slip on my only pair of heels—it’s a risky move but it completes the ensemble—and I grab my purse, checking the mirror one last time. I look good. Definitely dateable—I mean, professional.

  I move toward the front door. I’m eager to leave even with my heart palpitating like crazy. My phone buzzes right as my hand touches the door handle. Right on time.

  “And turn off your—”

  I shut the door behind me, interrupting Maddie in mid-sentence. Doesn’t she know I need to get to work?