by Megyn Ward
According to my initiation by Tom—when I was given my role and instructed to keep the drama high—the bedrooms are off limits to surveillance. My bedroom doesn’t have the style and luxury of the resident’s rooms, but it’s a far cry from the room I share with Diana. This one is twice as big, with generic but new teakwood furniture and a queen-sized bed all to myself. My window opens onto the driveway. No ocean view for me. On the third-floor with three other empty bedrooms, it’s as much of a sanctuary as I’m likely to find.
A handsome young guy carrying a massage table had been allowed entrance into Simone’s cave and I can only imagine the happy ending he‘s giving her. Maybe it will relieve some of her tension and she’ll leave Zach alone.
I spent most of the day at the hospital. While Diana sleeps I play dominoes with some of Wanda’s visitors. Marie had been released and a younger woman occupies her bed. She had complications with her pregnancy and doesn’t have many visitors. Wanda’s ailment must be serious to keep her here so long but whatever the prognosis, everyone keeps a happy face. I envy their ability to weather the health storms with such joviality, like a hurricane party.
Diana’s surgery went well and she’s recovering, according to Dr. Bodden. But she keeps her eyes closed most of the time, hardly moving at all. I doubt she sleeps that whole time and I worry she’s sinking into depression.
When Blake arrives around sunset, she’s sitting up allowing me to style her hair, careful to avoid the still giant goose egg on the back of her skull. Blake brings her a red hibiscus flower that I tuck behind her ear.
She lights up a little for him and he flashes her his usual friendly grin. If Diana notices that Blake ignores me, she doesn’t say anything. I leave them to head back to Liesa’s house and hide myself behind my bedroom door.
I watch as Liesa and Zach arrive home somewhere after one o’clock. They both look spent. Liesa dangles her spiked-heeled sandals from a finger. The flippy little chiffon party dress that barely covers her ass even looks droopy.
Zach’s shoulders slump. They both look like battle-weary soldiers tromping back to camp. In this battle, we’re all losers.
Just before Zach steps from the driveway to the front porch, he raises his head to my window. I should step back but I can’t.
I flatten my hand on the pane as if I can touch Zach. Liesa’s hand reaches out from where she must be waiting for him under the eaves where I can’t see her. He flinches but lowered his face. I feel abandoned the moment we lose eye contact.
Exhausted, I plop on the bed and close my eyes. Behind them, the film begins to play. Zach diving with me. Zach carrying me from the waves and watching over me on the beach. Zach bringing me out of my funk at the ocean wall downtown. Zach in my bed, touching me with tenderness and then with a burning need.
I snap my eyes open and stare at the ceiling fan turning lazily. Zach is one floor below me. Is he with Liesa on the deck or the living room, having one last drink, kissing and petting for the camera? Or maybe all that TV drama is turning into reality and he’s in Liesa’s room with the door closed and no one watching? My imagination refuses to stop rerunning images of Zach and Liesa fucking in her massive four-poster bed.
Stop being ridiculous.
None of this is real.
Zach isn’t with Liesa.
But he isn’t with me either.
And as long as Jonas has his way, he never will be.
.
Thirty-Five
Zach
It nearly does me in to look up and see Kylie’s face in the window.
Liesa and I trudge up the stairs. She stops at her bedroom door and leans into me. I feel her exhaustion. She doesn’t hug me or try to kiss me, more like a whole-body pat. “I’m so tired I could sleep for a week. Tomorrow, let’s insist we take the day off. No cameras, no other people. We deserve it. Maybe go sailing. Get lost. Never come back.”
I’d come back for Kylie. I could never leave her behind. “Sounds like a plan. I’m going to bed and might stay there until noon.”
She opens her door, fatigue tugging at her shoulders. “I won’t wake you.”
When I drop into bed, my mind fires up. Kylie. In her rash guard and tank, going into the ocean. Wearing my shirt and her thong panties. Stretched out on her bed, inviting me. I can smell her lemony scent, see her blonde hair making a curtain around my face.
As exhausted as I am, I can’t sleep. Maybe a swim will help me relax.
The house is quiet and I don’t turn on lights as I silently creep to the patio with nothing but a towel wrapped around my hips. The heavy tropical air pushes down on me, not cooling off much with the late hour. The infinity pool shimmers under the scant light from the moon and I drop my towel on the deck. I don’t want to risk alerting anyone with a splash so I slip into the cool water from the wide steps in the shallow end. With a deep inhale, I dunk under and stretch out, letting the water take my body and hold me suspended.
The relief only lasts as long as I hold my breath, but I relish that momentary respite from the camera, from Liesa and Jonas, the strain of trying to figure a way out for Kylie. I emerge for another breath, intending to dive under again but a gentle splash at the corner of the pool catches my attention.
I’m not alone.
I hold my breath and wait for my eyes to adjust to the woman smiling at me from the shadows.
“Aren’t I the lucky one?” Simone’s purr whisks away the false sanctuary I’d hoped for.
Shit. I search the patio and sure enough, a pinprick red glow reveals Bob’s location. How had they known I’d show up? That they can predict my actions is more than creepy.
Simone’s hair is piled on her head to make sure it stays dry. She swims toward where I tread water. “Finally, we have some privacy.”
My towel is a pile on the deck and I’d have to expose myself to escape. I paddle backward. “I didn’t know you were here. Sorry to interrupt,” I say, even though I was here first.
She floats closer and I smell gin on her breath. From the light of the moon, it’s easy to see she’s naked.
“Our privacy, Zachary. This is what we’ve been waiting for. Just you and me.”
And Bob and Jeri and about a million viewers. Jonas expects me to make this storyline interesting. If I don’t, he’ll punish Kylie somehow. My shrinkage isn’t only a result of the cool water. How am I going to get out of this? “We shouldn’t be here like this.”
She paddles with her hands so one of her legs can run the length of my leg. “This is exactly where we should be. Don’t tell me you didn’t know I’d be here. I’ve been waiting for you all night.”
I back up. “Liesa wouldn’t like us being alone like this.”
Simone gives me a throaty laugh. “I’m sure she wouldn’t. But she doesn’t have to know.”
I’m supposed to act tempted. “You’re a beautiful woman, but I am with your daughter.”
Again, she laughs. “That’s not true, is it? You hang out, you date, you have dinner. But you’re not together and that’s got to be hard on someone so young and…healthy.”
I kick to the wall and hold on. “You’ve been drinking. Probably shouldn’t be in the water. It’d be best if you went to bed.”
She follows me and stops too close. “Bed is a good idea. Yours or mine?”
Before I can say anything, she ropes her arms around my neck and plants a sloppy, gin-infused kiss on my lips.
This is what Jonas is after. I’m supposed to kiss her back and struggle with my desire. It doesn’t make me feel any better that I’ll be allowed to act noble, tell Simone how much I care for Liesa, and make a hasty retreat. I close my eyes.
For Kylie.
I open my eyes, determined to chomp on the crushed glass that would be kissing Simone.
Shit.
I can’t do it.
Kissing Liesa is one thing. It’s not real to either of is. Kissing Simone would be different.
I shove Simone away and she dips under the surface. �
��I said no.” Not caring if Bob gets me, balls and all, I heave myself to the deck.
Simone sputters, looking like a drowned rat. “Fuck you. You just turned down the best time you’d ever have. I’d have blown your mind, among other things. Liesa can’t do for you what I can.”
Not bothering with the towel, I flip Bob off as I stomp toward the patio doors.
Thirty-Six
Kylie
I can’t sleep.
Part of it knowing that this house is alive. That there are people watching. Listening. Lurking in dark corners. Feeding off secrets.
I pace from one the end of my room to the other.
I know this is for Diana and I don’t regret my decision but I’d give anything to be back in my narrow, lumpy bed inside our crummy pink house.
It dawns on me my pacing might be heard in the room below me. I don’t need that information getting to Jonas so I hurry to my bed and throw myself on top of the comforter. The ceiling here doesn’t have the interesting spider web of cracks and water stains as the ceiling at my bungalow. This room doesn’t have Diana and Blake. It feels empty without Zach.
A clicking noise stops my breath. I freeze and wait, wondering if maybe Tom lied and there are cameras in here. A quiet snick makes me turn toward the door as it pushes open. Despite the darkness, lit only by the scant moonlight from the window, I immediately recognize Zach. Watch as he quietly shuts the door and locks it behind him.
I raise myself onto my knees and watch him come toward me. Holding a finger to his lips, he tells me I have to be quiet. I nod, my fingers twisting in the hem of my T-shirt.
Standing at the side of the bed, he reaches for me. Slides his arms around me to pull me close. His mouth crashes into me, his tongue sweeping into lick and tangle with mine while his hands grapple with my shirt, jerking it up, over my head, to toss it aside. Kiss broken, his lips and tongue move across the angle of my jaw. The line of my throat. The plane of my chest. Head dipped low, He circles my nipple with the tip of his tongue before sucking it to his mouth, first one and then the other, nipping and licking until they’re both hard and swollen.
More.
I need more.
My fingers push through his hair and I arch my back, thrusting my breast against the pressure of his mouth while a moan trembles in my throat, threatening to break free.
His hands skim over the swell of my hips. He pushes past the waistband of my shorts and I open my legs, nearly groaning with relief when I feel his hand move between them to cup my pussy. He lifts his head, gaze locked on mine while he pushes two of his fingers past my slick folds, stroking into me so hard and fast I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying.
When he feels how ready I am, he growls, low in his throat before pushing me back on the mattress. Kneeling between my legs, he peels my shorts down my legs before planting his hands on my inner thighs. He moves lower. Pressing the wide, muscular plank of his shoulders into the cradle of my thighs. Sliding his arms under my legs, he plants his hands on my belly, pressing me into the bed. Holding me down. Dipping his head, he runs the flat of his tongue up the center of me, licking and nibbling his way to my throbbing clit. Sucking and nipping until I’m writhing and panting. Fingers twisted in the bedspread, mouth clamped shut in an effort to keep from screaming his name.
I come, the force of it blowing through me so fast and hard my legs slip past the barrier of his shoulders to slam closed around his head an I nearly come off the bed.
He pries himself free and stretches over me, his hips pushing against mine. His rock-hard cock stroking into me so fast and deep, I almost come again. Before I can blink, he turns us until he’s under me, fingers gripping my hips, lifting and lowering me along the length of him, fucking me even though I’m on top, my tits bouncing with the force of his deep, hard thrusts.
Blue eyes blazing in the dark, he watches me ride him. His thumb sliding up the seam of my pussy until his finds my clit again, this time grinding and stroking the slick bundle of nerves until I fall forward, bracing myself with my hands against his thick, muscular chest, pumping and moving my hips. Finding and keeping the relentless rhythm he’s using to drive us both toward orgasm.
His jaw clenches and his head kicks back, the base of his skill digging into the mattress while he comes, the feel of his cock jerking and releasing inside me setting off a second orgasm that has me digging my nails into his chest and leaves me breathless.
Thirty-Seven
Zach
Last night can never happen again. What if Tom or Jeri catch wind of it? What if our rooms really are monitored? I have to keep far away from Kylie or I’ll make it worse. I’d stayed with Kylie for as long as I dared last night. We didn’t speak, afraid something might be voice activated and send out an alarm.
Eventually, Kylie fell asleep curled next to me. Her breath keeping a gentle rhythm, her skin the softest thing I’ve ever felt. Afraid I’d doze off and we’d get caught in the glare of daylight, I eased out of her bed, hating the cool air conditioning where her warmth had cuddled next to me.
We only have a couple of days before Jonas airs the shower scene. I haven’t come up with a way to stop it. That threat keeps me from settling and I sleep fitfully, finally coming wide awake mid-morning. I text Liesa and tell her I don’t want to go sailing. I stay in my room, door closed, staring at the ocean until my empty stomach forces me out for lunch.
I walk into a beehive of activity. Cook and Ricky zip between the kitchen and the patio, Jeri’s hair is a tangled mess, as if she’s been tearing it out and she looks more frantic than usual. She glares at me where I stand at the bottom of the stairs. Tom ushers a florist through the great room. Other delivery people scurry about.
“There you are!” Liesa glides into the room wearing a lacy party dress short enough to show off her legs. Liesa pinches my cheeks together and smacks a kiss on my lips.
Simone saunters in. She carries a mimosa and I nearly tackle her for it. She must read my look because she prowls over and stops too close. She holds the champagne glass to my lips and speaks in her sultry voice. “You look parched. Let me help you with that.” Guess she doesn’t hold a grudge. Maybe she’d been so drunk she doesn’t remember last night.
She tips the glass to my lips and I either have to swallow or dribble. Hating her and the manipulation, but not minding the cocktail, I slurp as much as I can before she tips it down and pulls it away. “A growing boy like you needs to keep up his strength.” She turns and brushes the back of her hand along my cock. I hate her some more.
Liesa shoves between Simone and me and grabs my hand. “Since you canceled sailing, I’ve decided to have a luncheon party. It’s going to be a big deal, so I want you to shower and shave.” She runs her perfect manicure from my temples through my hair. “You’re too sexy when you’re right out of bed like this.” She rests her forearms on my shoulders and brushes her nose against mine. Her floral perfume makes me want to puke and I think again of Kylie and that tang of citrus that’s so subtle on her skin.
Simone accepts another mimosa that magically appears from Ricky. “Yes,” she purrs. “He is sexy in the morning.”
Through the veil of Liesa’s blonde hair, Kylie carries a tray of canapes into the room. Jonas might have put her in a black polyester maid’s uniform, but he had it hemmed so short and tailored so tight, she looks as sexy as the stereotypical French maid.
Her eyes find me and my heart stops. Even from across the room I see pain when she registers my arms around the small of Liesa’s back. She pauses only a split second before setting the tray on a coffee table and hurrying back to the kitchen.
I drop my arms but Liesa holds firm. “Kiss me,” she hisses.
I do what I’m told, closing my eyes and pretending she’s Kylie.
We let that sham go on for longer than I’d like and she nuzzles into my neck. “You couldn’t keep it in your goddamned pants?”
Her words vibrate on my neck, so quiet only I know she spoke.
She snuggles close and acts like she nibbles my ear. “They got it. You and Kylie last night. I told her not to trust anyone—not even you.”
Fuck. No. I’d screwed Kylie over again.
“I’m trying to fix it,” she says. “Just go along with it and don’t do anything stupid.”
She jumps back, all sunny smiles and patented Liesa’s Life enthusiasm. “Okay, scoot, you. I’ve got a million things to do. The florists tried to foist old blooms on me and I won’t tolerate that.” She grabs Simone’s hand on the way out. “Come on, Mother. I need you to help with the linens.”
Thirty-Eight
Kylie
Out of the shower, I throw on the clothes someone left on the bed, not bothering to shave or even put on shoes. When I make it out to the great room, guests mill about. They spill out to the patio. Liesa is putting on a grand party with the friends hired for the show and people I’ve never seen before.
Simone, still carrying a mimosa, makes the rounds, flirting and giving air kisses. She spots me and I hurry toward the patio, getting caught behind a gaggle of short-skirted girls smelling of expensive perfume and gin. I’m not quick enough to dodge Simone and she intercepts me.
“Zach.” She kisses me on the mouth, then wipes the lipstick off with manicured fingers. “That shirt is the perfect color for your eyes. I knew it would be.”
“Do you know where Liesa is? I need to talk to her.” I search the room but don’t see her blonde curls anywhere. If she’s making plans to fix things I want to know what they are.
Simone sips her drink and waves her hand. “She’s around somewhere.”
Two hands clamp over my eyes from behind me. A subtle vanilla scent wafts to me and I smile, recognizing an ally. “Alicia. What are you doing here?”