She stared up at the ceiling, listening to the intense revelry below. Even sixty stories up from the street, music filled her ears like it was right outside the window. Still, as she lay there bathed in sweat the raging beat of her heart nearly drowned it all out. It was just the same as it had been last year, in whichever city she’d found herself at the time.

Save for the light coming from elsewhere in the suite, the room was dark. She’d accidentally kicked the lamp off of the nightstand during a particularly intense orgasm. She was pretty sure the lamp itself wasn’t broken, just the bulb. In the morning she’d set it back on the nightstand and hope for the best. Which is not to say that she’d never had to pay for damages before. A $500 mirror shattered by an errant champagne cork at the W Hotel in New York. Fire damage at the Borgata in Atlantic City thanks to a wayward candle. She could never stay there again, but it was just as well; the sushi at their modern Japanese restaurant gave her food poisoning.

She never heard from the five-star hotel in Dallas after the man she was seeing wiped his dick on the drapes, so presumably it wasn’t an issue. And the cost of both the towel rack in Seattle and the bed frame in Miami were absorbed by their hotels. She hadn’t meant to break them, but her lovers in those cities were quite clumsy and quite powerful, respectively. Things were bound to get broken.

Seattle! That’s where she’d been last year. How could she forget? She turned to look at the handsome, chiseled hunk snoring peacefully by her side. She really couldn’t blame him for being sound asleep fifteen minutes before midnight; she’d given him one hell of a workout. Twenty-two years old, with washboard abs, thick biceps, and a firm, solid ass. And hung like the proverbial stallion! His oral game wasn’t as good as she expected, but he showed promise. Anyway, his stamina was more than impressive, even if he now appeared to have reached his limit.

As she regarded his smooth cheeks and youthful features, she felt a little like she was robbing the cradle. But not so much that she might regret that it happened. On the contrary, while she’d never so much as incurred a fine on an overdue library book, she could think of nothing she enjoyed more than a little grand theft cradle. All of her men were younger than she, the oldest one ten years her junior. It was part of the turn-on. A big part.

Outside, she could see fireworks exploding across the dark night sky, leaving colorful, radiant shapes to burn bright against the blackness. Was it midnight already? Had she missed the countdown? She must have. The alarm clock had gone down along with the lamp, and she had no idea what time it was. The snoring grew louder.

She sat up, feeling the cum on her breasts and stomach cold against her flesh. She reached over for a handful of bedsheet and wiped it off, then got up from the mattress, careful not to rouse the sleeping Adonis next to her. She wandered lazily to the window and looked down at the city. She could discern crowds of tiny merrymakers carousing under bright amber street lights. Forty stories up she watched a rollicking party on one of the hotel’s observation decks. Guests in formalwear wore party hats and blew noisemakers or drank expensive champagne from skinny flutes.

Happy New Year, she thought wistfully. Though there was a time when she might have liked to be at that party, she had to admit that she was outgrowing such things. Drinking until the early hours amid wild, noisy celebration had been fun once, but now just the thought of it left her empty and unfulfilled. Even the thought of jet-setting around the world, shacking up with men at their sexual prime and having more orgasms, and for that matter better orgasms, than most women could ever imagine felt suddenly lacking. To utilize an overused cliché, there had to be more to life than this.

She considered the value in settling down. The idea of making a sturdy connection with a stable man – or even one of her many lovers – appealed to her. She couldn’t imagine herself raising children, but then she never thought she’d consider settling down, either. Could this be the year she brought substantive change to her life? Could the days of moving from man to man, taking what she wanted from them before continuing on to the next and repeating the process finally be over?

She’d never been one for New Year’s resolutions, but if she had been she knew she wouldn’t waste time with the same boring resolutions everyone else made. Losing fifteen pounds, eating healthier, and taking up a hobby? Such things held no interest for her. No, she was one to go big or go home. This year, she was going to quit having casual or emotionless sex and get serious about her life. And she was going to do it starting right that minute.

That’s when she heard her phone buzz on the other side of the room. She found it atop the pile of clothing they’d left on the floor earlier that night. The text message was from her lover in Hollywood, wishing her a happy New Year, and asking when he might see her again. She thought about the time they’d taken his boat to Santa Catalina Island. She thought of his mansion in the hills. She thought of his cock.

She thought her resolution could wait until next year.