Filthy Desires: A Romantic Suspense Collection

by Parker, Kylie

  Dean drops me off at my hotel and mumbles a “goodnight,” He doesn’t wait for me to speak. Instead, he turns his Harley around and rides off. No surprises there. I’ve flat-out rejected him. Why should he linger any longer? So that he can hear my excuses? He didn’t want to do that back at the bar. As I watch his bike fade into the darkness however, it dawns on me that I have to deal with even bigger problems. After I told Emily and Karlie about the events of last night, they finally acted like true friends. They hugged me, comforted me, and were very impressed with Dean. I was too upset to tell them anything about his connection to Michael and Ray. Now, however, I have to. Why? Because they loved when I told them that Dean had asked me out on a date. In their opinion, he was well worth it. Emily had even wished me “good humping.” I can only hope that she won’t start judging me again. My pulse is rising as I near the door to our suite. Unlocking it, I find them both in the kitchen to the right, laughing out loud. Still, when our eyes meet across the room, Emily’s smile freezes.

  “This can’t be good,” she remarks, glancing up at the clock on the wall over her shoulder. It read 10:15. “Let me guess: another quickie?”

  “No,” I sigh, making my way towards the balcony. “Guys, I need some air. Follow me outside, will you?”

  I stop my gaze at the surf and put my hands on the railing, wishing I was paying more attention to Ray when he introduced himself to me. A simple question about whom he was here with would have prevented me from going out on a date with him.

  “You must have a good reason for coming back from your date so quickly,” Karlie presumes, stepping beside me.

  “I do,” I admit with a nod. “You’re not going to believe this, but…” I draw in a sharp breath. “They all know each other. Michael, Ray, and Dean are friends. They’re here on vacation together. And, judging by what Dean said to me earlier, they’re very tight.”

  “What?!” squeals Emily, her eyes widening with shock, whereas Karlie lifts her hands up to her temples. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive,” I heave a long sigh of frustration, tossing a glance over at her. “I couldn’t do anything with Dean knowing all this.”

  “When did you find out?” Karlie asks me, her voice wobblier than usual.

  “Last night, right after Dean had knocked out that prick that had been chasing me,” I tell them, the image of him looking at the screen of his cell phone flashing back into my mind. “He got a call from someone named ‘Michael.’ Michael mentioned Ray’s and Dean’s names on the night we met.”

  “My God, what a mess…” whispers Karlie, averting her gaze from me to look down at the water.

  “I know it’s not much consolation, but you did the right thing tonight,” Emily comments, placing her hand on my shoulder.

  “Well, that doesn’t make me feel any better,” I whisper, tears beginning to blur my vision. “God, what have I done…?” I sigh once more, hanging my head in shame. “What if I run into them? I can’t even imagine what they’re going to say to me.”

  “Don’t think like that, honey,” Karlie advises, snaking her arm around my neck. “You couldn’t have known.”

  “No, do think like that,” Emily counters, lowering her tone. “You’ve been lucky you haven’t bumped into them yet, but we need to make sure it doesn’t happen.”

  “That’s right,” Karlie agrees. “I’m going to start looking for hotels right now.”

  “Please, don’t do that yet,” I request, raising my head to face her, a tear toppling over the edge of my eye. “Do we have any alcohol?”

  “I bought a couple of bottles of champagne yesterday,” Emily replies, rubbing my shoulder, “you know, to celebrate Karlie’s arrival.”

  “Go get it,” Karlie urges, removing her arm from my body. “Don’t worry, dear. It’s all going to be all right. Come,” she suggests, strolling towards the table on her right. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to know more about those three.”

  “Why?” I give a snort of frustration. “It’s not like I’m going to see them again.”

  “Because; two of them had my good friend acting out of character, and the third got very close.” Her short explanation convinces me in a heartbeat. I sit beside her as Emily joins us again on the balcony, holding a bucket with champagne on ice and three, tall glasses. “What’s so special about them? What got you so excited that you couldn’t keep your hands off of them?”

  “They all look fantastic, but it’s my dry spell that threw me into their arms,” I claim, maintaining a low tone of voice. “I haven’t been with a man since Johnnie, remember?”

  “I haven’t been with anyone in seven months, but you don’t see me chasing guys, do you?” Karlie rebuts as our friend pours champagne into the glasses. “Come on. There must be more to them than just looks.”

  “And it’s not like you didn’t have any opportunities before they showed up,” Emily says, speaking her mind, and handing a glass over to me. “Two locals flirted with her. They looked pretty good if you ask me. And I liked their accent, too.”

  “Well, Michael is very romantic,” I start, recalling his melodic voice once again. “I was taking a night swim, when I heard him playing the guitar. We were kissing in minutes. I met Ray at the harbor. Em was with me; she even came up with a handle for him. She called him a ‘puppy.’”

  “Actually, now that I think about it, ‘beaten dog’ would be more appropriate,” Emily states. “The guy was in serious pain.”

  “I got to change all that when we went out, and I mean fast,” I continue, my tone becoming more emphatic. “He seemed to relax, like being with me helped him take his mind off his problems. Plus, he must be the most laid back guy I’ve ever met.”

  “There you go,” Karlie smiles. “That wasn’t very hard, was it? Here’s to a wonderful vacation,” She proposes a toast. Glasses clink under the starry sky, and my guilt is starting to vaporize. I agree with her earlier statement. Had I known about those three, I would have stuck with Michael. I wouldn’t even consider coming between them.

  “Boy, I’ve got to tell you…” Emily giggles, wetting her lips. “When we saw Dean, I thought ‘Ms. Horny’ here would devour him tonight. I know I would. Strong jaw? Check. Sexy beard? Check. Long arms? Check. And did you see the guy’s chest? It’s broad enough to fit two Emily’s, not just one.”

  Champagne shoots out of my nose at the end of her last sentence.

  “Thanks, Em,” I chuckle, wiping the bubbly off my chin. “I needed that.”

  “Girls, I could use some advice on locations,” Karlie requests, glancing at me first and then Emily. “Is there any particular place you wish to go?”

  “As far away from here as possible,” I assume a serious tone. “The best beaches are out to the west, so, I suggest Chania or even further.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Karlie salutes me, flashing me a warm look. She’s a godsend. Not only is she not judging me, but also her cool approach doesn’t allow me to panic. Most importantly, it appears to affect Emily as well. It’s been a while since I broke the news to them, and she’s being supportive. At last, she remembers what it’s like to be a friend, not a judge. Now, I can’t wait to get out of here and go somewhere that I don’t have to hide.

  15

  Dean

  The annoying ringing of the hotel room phone wakes me up. I reach my arm out to the nightstand and pick it up, my eyes heavy.

  “Yeah?”

  “Mr. Ryan, I’m very sorry to bother you so late, but we have a problem,” The urgency in the receptionist’s voice sparks my curiosity.

  “What is it?”

  “There’s a woman here, demanding to see you. Her name is Stacy. Do you know her?”

  “Yeah, I do,” I mutter, rubbing my blurry eyes. “I’ll be downstairs in a minute. Thanks.”

  “Stacy?” I whisper her name, scooting over to the edge of my bed. Questions are already popping into my mind, before I even put my t-shirt on. First of all, how did she find out where I l
ive? I never told her. Second, what the hell is she doing here?

  You’d better not be here to apologize to me again, darling. If you are, I swear to God I’m going to kick you out, even if I become a spectacle.

  I splash some water onto my face, anger spreading within me like wildfire. The more I think about it, the more I believe she’s feeling guilty about shooting me down and wants to say how sorry she is again. What a goddamn hypocrite. She’s not doing this for me. She’s doing it for herself.

  I’m going to teach you the meaning of another Greek word for a change. You mentioned irony. I’ll finish this game by teaching you all about hypocrisy. I’m going to videotape this stupid apology, and then remind you what you said at the bar.

  The ding of the elevator rings in my ears. As the elevator slide open, what I come across doesn’t resemble the restrained girl I went out with tonight. In fact, it’s nothing like her. Stacy is at the reception, screaming at a waiter and the receptionist alike. She turns to face me, and when she does, I understand what might be behind her transformation. She staggers across the hall, with her pink purse in her grasp.

  “Dean…” she calls out my name, her lips curving into a smile, but only for a moment. I keep my mouth shut, and run quickly towards her.

  “I’ll take care of this,” I tell the receptionist, grabbing Stacy by the wrist. I pull her back towards the elevator, focusing my attention on her.

  “Wh-Where…” Her stutter and her reddened eyes confirm my suspicion. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Upstairs,” I say in a firm voice, struggling to keep my cool as I press the “penthouse” button on the panel behind her.

  “No, no…” Stacy shakes her head slowly, her voice coming out somewhat slurred. “We can’t go there. We could wake up your buddies.”

  “They’re out of town,” I bite out my words, glaring down at her. “What the fuck are you doing here? How did you find out where I’m staying?”

  “I…” she pauses and raises her arm at my chest, “am here to talk to you,” she finishes her sentence, poking me in the center of my chest with her index finger. “You see, Mr. Savior, you didn’t let me…” she swallows hard, “say to you all the things I wanted to say. As per your other question, well…” she snorts in amusement. “You’ll be surprised how chatty the bartender of this place can be for fifty euro’s.”

  “Whatever,” I huff in frustration, the elevator sliding open at the penthouse. I turn left and amble off down the corridor that leads to my suite, her wrist still in my hand. “Alright,” I unlock the door. “Start talking.”

  Stepping inside, I turn to face her as she pushes the door shut.

  “Oh, Dean…” Stacy sighs, her eyes flickering. “Big, strong, macho Dean…” she adds, lifting both of her arms up to my chest. “Wow, these are really good,” she praises, pressing her hands against my skin.

  “I’m still waiting,” I complain, my gaze fixed with hers. This time though, I get no response. Stacy drops her arms as her eyelids slide shut. In a split second, she tumbles into my chest. I reach out and grab her by the hips, preventing her fall. “Great,” I cock my head in a spasm of frustration, understanding that I’m stuck with her. Whatever her reasons for paying me a visit in the middle of the night, I have to wait until the morning to find out what they are.

  Stacy

  I feel a cool breeze enter my open mouth. A huge headache is grinding into my temples. Forcing my heavy eyes open, I see a wide open balcony door and the vastness of the blue sea. Yet, this isn’t my hotel suite. The shutters are made out of aluminum, not wood. But, before panic sets in, I notice something else. A sweet scent is flowing through my nostrils: cherry and cream. I lower my gaze, only to discover a spoonful of ice-cream. The man holding the spoon up to my lips is none other than Dean.

  “Rise and shine,” he says to me, his voice a little hoarser than usual. “Sugar is the best cure for a hangover. Eat up,” he urges, shoving the spoon into my mouth.

  “Oh, my God,” I mumble, swallowing the delicious ice cream. “What happened last night?”

  “Nothing much; you just showed up and started bitching at everybody,” Sarcasm is dripping from his tongue.

  “Did we…?”

  “Fuck?” Dean finishes my sentence. “No. I don’t do drunken girls. I hate the smell of alcohol. What got you so worked up last night? You were fine when I left you.”

  “A friend of mine arrived from Miami,” I explain as he digs the spoon into the cup. “We started reminiscing about college, told a few stories. It was a lot of fun.”

  “Speak for yourself,” he says, a touch of discomfort in his tone. “No receptionist woke you up at 3am, to tell you that someone wanted to see you. Anyway, eat the ice cream. I’m going to take a shower. You’d better have a really good explanation when I get back.”

  I don’t dignify his words with a rebuttal. My head may be throbbing, but my heart is fluttering. I can’t believe this guy. I rejected him, I embarrassed him by making a scene last night, and instead of dumping me outside my hotel, he’s looking after me? Really?

  I swipe the sheet away. I still have my red shorts and my black t-shirt on. He wasn’t lying when he said that he didn’t lay a hand on me. Searing lust engulfs my senses. I know I might regret this in the near future, but his actions have stripped me of the will to resist him. Who would have thought that, behind the façade of this brute, hides a caring man? I sure wouldn’t have. Besides, after moving out of this place, the chances of my seeing him or his friends again are minimal to say the least.

  I scoot off the bed, catching the sound of the open faucet. The mere thought of seeing Dean naked is enough to make my mouth water. I pull my shirt up and over my head, tiptoeing along the corridor. I slide my shorts down and off my feet, before pushing the bathroom door open. Six feet, four inches and more than two hundred pounds of pure masculinity are standing across the room, his back turned to me. Drops of water are streaming down the glass of the shower, but even they can’t block my view. His hands are in his hair, cut muscles flexing as foam is dripping down the back of his neck. I move around the corner of the shower and stroll in, my heart pounding in my chest.

  “Stacy!” he exclaims, turning to me, surprise written all over his face. “What are you…?”

  “Hi,” I whisper, winking up at him. “Can I thank you for being so kind to me?”

  Dean doesn’t speak. Reaching forward, he puts his hands on either hip and pulls me close. I tilt my head up, water starting to fall into my hair. Our lips lock in a gentle, passionate kiss, a moment before I wrap my arms around his neck. I can feel his cock wedged between our bodies, his smooth skin hot against mine. The fine hairs of his beard stubble are grazing my chin, but I won’t let this tiny detail deter me. And I couldn’t care less if Michael or Ray walked in on us. I’m a free woman, and right now, all I can think of is having the man who saved my life the other night and took care of me last night, instead of kicking me out. His long, slender fingers are cupping both of my ass cheeks at the same time as he snakes his tongue into my mouth. He trails his middle finger down my ass crack, his other hand kneading my flesh with vigor.

  “Sweet, juicy bubble,” Dean grunts out while I slide my hands down his chest. His rock-hard pecs are twitching with every breath, his cock hardening. His finger travels further down, bypassing my entrance.

  “Awww, yeah,” I whimper as his fingertip makes contact with my clit. Squeezing my ass, he slides his finger right back up, sending shivers of desire coursing through me. Still, this isn’t what I’m after, at least not yet. I may love the way he’s touching me so far, but I want to take control. Raking my nails over his chiseled abs, I bend my knees. I start kissing my way down his sculpted chest, breathing hard on his skin. I can feel the head of his cock between my breasts as I gently sink my teeth into his flesh. Dean’s entire body stiffens, his lustful groan encouraging me to continue. Keeping one hand on his stomach, I reach his groin. Delicious inches are brushing my cheek, just w
hen I curl my fingers around the base of his shaft. I open my eyes and look up at him. He’s biting his lower lip, his gaze locked on my face, his length standing straight out from his body.

  “Suck it,” he commands, placing either hand on my temples. I swipe my tongue over the crest, teasing him. I let his cock-head rest between my lips for a moment, but that’s all I can take. Squeezing the firm flesh of his stomach, I take him in a slow, moist slide. I taste the saltiness of his pre-cum, loving his long, loud moan. Dean’s thighs are beginning to tremble under my sensual touch. I let more than half of his length fill my mouth, and then I pull back, dragging my tongue along his cock.

  “Fuck!” He groans, swallowing heavily, firming his grip on my head. A mixed sense of delight and satisfaction is pulsing through me. He’s at my mercy, savoring everything I do to him. I clench my thighs together, moisture gathering between my legs. For a moment, I consider letting go of his abs and touch myself. I want to show him just how much I’m enjoying this, and this is an ideal way. Still, the feel of his muscles beneath my skin is much too good. And I know for a fact that letting him masturbate me is going to be much, much better.

  I start a steady, fast rhythm, twisting the base of his shaft. Dean tucks a few tendrils of my hair behind my ear. I swirl my tongue around the swollen head, feeling his eyes on me. I glide my hand down his body, using a firm suction. I bob down a few inches and pull back, teasing him more and more. He is slightly bucking his hips, eager for that heated suction. I lick the head with every withdrawal, his left hand cupping the top of my head, his right one stroking the back of my neck. His growls are getting louder, indicating that he is close. I bob back and forth, up and down, jerking his big, stiff cock. I’m tempted to finish him off right there. All I need to do is keep this up for a few more seconds. He has surrendered to me, his cock throbbing in my mouth, seeking sweet release. However, I decide to put an end to this. It’s better to leave that tension right where it is. That way, he’ll be more driven to satisfy me. I ease back, my fingers stopping just below the cock-head. A large drop of saliva mixed with his pre-cum is dangling from it.