But I do. I want all of him, and my body adjusts quickly.
He begins thrusting then—deep, sure thrusts. Again and again, until my eyes close and my mouth falls open to allow cries of lust to fill the room. I’ve never been loud like this before, but I can’t be quiet. Not now. It’s like I’ve been playing in the minor leagues before now, and I finally understand what it’s all about.
True passion, true pleasure.
He falls onto his forearms, his weight heavy and welcome, and I wrap my legs around him to drive him further inside me. I want all of him, always. Forever. I know that isn’t possible, but I can’t help wishing this was for always. Gently, I lick away the sweat from his throat and listen as he whispers my name against my neck. It’s all so sweet, so perfect. We work together, moving as one, until we both lose control and dissolve into frenzied bucking, crying out each time our bodies slam together.
“Yes!” I scream, clenching around him as I explode.
He follows close behind.
We hold each other there for a minute as we come back down and our quivering bodies are all that’s left of our tremendous climaxes.
And the memories.
I’ll always have the memories. A single tear trickles down my cheek, and I brush it away before he raises his head from my shoulder.
“Are you all right?” he asks apprehensively, brushing hair away from my face.
“The earth moved for me.” I grin, trying to keep it lighthearted. “Or couldn’t you tell?”
He smiles, relieved, and rolls away even though I want nothing more than to hold him forever. All I can do is try to put myself together and wonder where we’re supposed to go from here.
Propping himself up on one elbow, he looks down at me tenderly. “You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to do that.”
I blush all over. “Really?”
“I wasn’t just playing at flirting with you, you know.”
“I thought we were—umm—pretending.” My heart feels as if it’s about to burst when he draws me into his arms. We’re on the cusp of something amazing. I can just feel it.
His phone buzzes, startling both of us.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake. It’s okay. They’re just texts.”
“No, look at them. They may be important,” I say softly.
He looks as if he is about to say something else, but then just sighs and reaches for his phone.
I have to extricate myself from his arms to allow him to do so. I sit up against the pillows. I watch as he reads his messages, his expression darkening.
He looks out the window for a moment, like he’s weighing his options.
My heart sinks. “What is it?”
“It’s Mark. He needs a little sanity. Apparently, the bride has been a terror all day. She’s been screaming and cursing at the wedding party, and even threatened to back out of the entire event and go to the chapel in town. The wedding planner is in tears. He just made it out of the rehearsal.”
“Imagine that,” I say dryly.
“After the stunt she pulled last night, I don’t care if I never see her again.”
I shrug. “But it’s not her who wants some moral support, is it?”
“Mark’s a big boy. He can handle his own shit.”
“It’s okay. Go on. Be a good friend to him. We can catch up later.”
He stares at me with an inscrutable expression. “You sure?”
“Absolutely,” I say firmly.
“Do you know that you are incredible?”
“I do. But you are allowed to remind me occasionally.”
Grinning, he sprints out of bed and goes to his room. He returns after having put on a black t-shirt and jeans, looking more casual than I’ve ever seen him. It’s a good look. Then again, he could wear anything and look good.
“Buy him a drink for me, huh?” I grin, settling back against the pillows. I can handle him leaving me to help his best friend.
“What about you? Will you catch up on some sleep?” He sits on the edge of the bed, suddenly tender and intimate.
It feels like every dream I’ve ever had just came roaring to life. My insides feel all gooey. I make a mental note to pinch myself when he’s out of the room. Just in case. “I don’t think I have the time. I made an appointment at the salon. Gotta look my best tonight, right?”
His smile is sweet as he runs a strand of my hair through his fingers. “You look pretty damn good to me right now.”
“I’m glad you think so, but I doubt this ensemble would be considered acceptable for a fancy Vegas wedding.”
We both chuckle softly before he plants a passionate kiss on my waiting lips. My fingers claw into his hair.
He pulls back, his eyes dark. “Damn, but it is so hard to leave you.”
I smile at it this. “Go on. I’ll see you this evening?”
He kisses me again, and stands up. “Okay. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”
“Ha, ha,” I say.
He walks to the door and blows me a kiss.
I catch it. It feels so natural, normal. Like we could be an actual couple in another life, another world in which things like that actually happen to people like me.
Then again, maybe this is that world.
When Brock turns to throw me one last look before leaving—there’s something in his eyes that wasn’t there before. I sternly tell myself not to get carried away. It could be my imagination. Or a trick of the light.
Chapter 31
Dani
I kind of hope to run into Brock and Mark downstairs. Or just Brock. I wouldn’t mind another kiss. If we were convincing before, I can just imagine how much more we’ll be now.
The thought of it makes me smile, biting my lip in anticipation of what might happen. I don’t want to believe this could ever go further than it already has, but my heart’s already miles ahead of my brain. Nobody can make love the way he made love to me without feeling something, can they?
I’m so busy recalling what just happened upstairs and wondering what else we might do later, maybe after the wedding, that I don’t notice Charlotte until she’s practically standing on top of me.
And she’s still in full-on Bridezilla mode. I’m surprised there aren’t flames shooting from her eyes as she glares at me. “What are you doing down here by yourself?” she demands, like she’s accusing me of a crime.
I look at her closely. She really has some balls. There’s no remorse at all for what she did to me last night. Well, I won’t give her the satisfaction of knowing I suffered last night. Let her think her plan didn’t have any success. “What do you mean?” I ask with a friendly smile.
She rolls her eyes. “I mean, it isn’t like Brock to let his woman wander around on her own.”
“You make him sound like a caveman.” I chuckle. What I really want to do is slap the smug look off her face, but a catfight in the middle of the lobby probably wouldn’t bode well for the rest of the weekend. And something tells me nothing would make her happier than seeing me break down and lose my cool.
“Well? Isn’t he? I mean, if he’s serious about you, I would imagine he’s got you on a pretty short leash.” She eyes me up and down with a smirk, not even trying to fake niceness any more.
Truly, I like it this way. I always prefer to know exactly where I stand with a person. “Maybe he just trusts me,” I suggest with a shrug.
Her eyes darken and narrow into thin slits. Yeah, that got her. But she’s not just giving up and going away, she’s just warming up. She leans in. “Or maybe he doesn’t care enough to get jealous.”
I’m quaking inside. She’s right. He doesn’t really care about me, and it’s obvious to her because she knows him really. Even though I’m here to make her believe he loves me, I’ve fallen short. She’s seen right through our lie. And it is still a lie. No amount of mind-blowing sex will change that. Darn her for doing this to me.
She folds her tanned, toned arms and smiles in smug triumph. “I knew it.”
“Knew what?”
“He’s still in love with me, but he’s just too proud to admit it. That’s why he came here this weekend. Because he can’t stand knowing I’m marrying another man without being here to see it for himself. I wonder if he’ll even be able to get through the ceremony without objecting.”
I gaze at her in wonder. “You’re deluded.”
“We’ll see,” she whispers with a triumphant smile. Then she turns on her heel and walks away.
I wish I could sink into the floor and never come back. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced this level of humiliation. No amount of money is worth this. I can’t believe I ever agreed to leave myself open to this.
After all, who in their right mind would believe Brock would actually want me? I’m nothing compared to Charlotte. Maybe I’m smarter, and I’m a decent person, but what difference does that make in this cruel world? If he went for a girl like her, she’s the kind of girl he really wants. Sexy, flashy, sophisticated. I was crazy to ever think a few hot kisses and an afternoon in bed can make any difference.
I stand in the middle of the foyer. I was going to the spa, wasn’t I?
It all seems pointless now. Why would I bother looking as good as I can tonight when Brock doesn’t really want me and Charlotte knows it? Then I straighten my shoulders. I took on this job and I will do it to the best of my ability. Brock will never be able to accuse me of doing half the job. Only sheer willpower keeps my feet moving in the right direction. I may have done a very, very stupid thing to get emotionally involved with Brock, but it doesn’t mean I have to go to the wedding not looking my best.
I still have my pride.
“You seem rather tense this afternoon.” The stylist frowns at me in the mirror, where I can gauge the progress she’s making on my hair. It hangs in long curls, fresh out of the rollers she just removed.
“Oh, I’m fine,” I lie through my teeth.
“Maybe you should spend a little time with the masseuse,” she suggests. “If you clench your teeth any harder, you’ll break them.”
“Is it that obvious?” I ask, my shoulders slumping. A complete and total stranger sees how depressed I am right now. I’m sure Brock will be able to see it too, and that just makes me feel worse.
“I’m afraid it is,” she confirms cheerfully.
Of course, she might just be trying to sell a massage. What do the masseuses do? Tell their clients they have split ends? It’s a relief when my phone buzzes. Saved by the text.
And what a text. From Brock.
Where are you? Get up here now. We need to talk ASAP.
Oh, wonderful. I’m halfway through my appointment and he needs to talk. No, he demands to talk. Where does he get off demanding anything from me?
Oh, right. He’s the person giving me a quarter of a million bucks for being here with him. I guess I could make something out of the way my hair currently looks. “I’m going to have to cut this short,” I explain, removing my cape. At least, I don’t have to answer any more questions about what’s wrong with me.
Anyway, he needs to know about my little altercation with Charlotte. He should know that we didn’t fool her. She might act like her bitchy, smug self when we see each other after the wedding and it will go better if he can anticipate what she thinks she knows. Or what she’s absolutely right about.
That he’s still in love with her.
God, why was I stupid enough to forget that part? I should’ve put a stop to what happened today. Still, I can’t pretend I didn’t want it just as much as he seemed to.
“Brock?” I call out when I open the door to the suite and find that he’s not waiting for me. I expected to see him standing in living room, hands clasped behind his back, demanding to know why it took me so long to get upstairs. Instead, the suite is quiet.
“Hello?” I walk to his closed bedroom door and tap gently on it. What if this is the opposite of what I’m thinking? What if he brought me up here for Round Two? And what do I do if that’s the case? I open the door. “Brock? You in here?”
He’s not.
Charlotte is.
Chapter 32
Dani
Charlotte bolts upright in bed, gasping and clutching the sheets around her naked body.
I have to lean against the wall because—oh, my God, the room is spinning. This is a nightmare. I fell asleep in the elevator, or down at the spa and this is just the worst nightmare of my entire life.
It has to be.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I try again. “What are you doing here?” As though I need an explanation. I can’t understand this. Because having sex with only one woman in a single afternoon isn’t enough for him, I guess. His side of the bed looks messed up and the shower is running.
“What’s it look like?” Charlotte challenges, glaring at me like she has the right to be annoyed that I’m here.
I tremble for a moment before coming back to my senses. Well, I won’t let her make me feel like the bitch here. “It looks like you slept with Brock on your wedding day, you slut.” I’ve never, ever in my entire life, said something like that to someone. Not to their face, at any rate, but she truly deserves it.
The bathroom door opens before she has the chance to reply, and I turn my rage towards Brock.
He steps into the room wearing a towel around his waist and nothing else.
Rage and heartbreak. How could he do this? All the things he said. And he had to go and sleep with her now, after having sex with me this morning.
God, I was so stupid.
We stare at each other in shock. I suppose if I’m honest it’s not like he lied to me, is it? He told me he was still in love with his ex and wanted to make her jealous. He told me this was a business arrangement, and I wanted it that way. And maybe it has worked out perfectly for him. I made her jealous. She came to him and now, they are together. Maybe I have no right to suffer through the chest-crushing heartache at the sight of his face, but here I am. Suffering nonetheless.
“What the fuck?” he says.
“You pig! How could you do something like this? How could either of you?” I yell. I don’t stick around to wait for his pathetic excuses, since I have no desire to hear any of them. I wish I could forget all of this, forget I ever met him. Forget the way he touched me and kissed me and stared into my eyes…
“Wait, Dani!”
He’s probably following me, but I don’t care. I can’t stop. I don’t ever want to see him again. If I look into those eyes, I might want to believe the lies he’ll inevitably spew and I can’t leave myself open to him. Not anymore. Not when he’d go so far as to have sex with her. Her! The same day as me, hours before her wedding. I never really knew him. He must be as cunning and manipulative as she is. No wonder he wants her. They’re perfect for each other. The thought bounces through my head as I run through the suite and back through the door, out into the hallway.
I can still hear him as I throw myself into the elevator, calling my name. Let him. He got what he wanted, didn’t he? He got his real, big true love back. I was just the cleaner that he paid to do a job. My eyes fill with tears of self-pity. I dash them away.
No, I should take responsibility for my pain. It’s not his fault I was stupid enough to give my heart to someone who never lied about who they were truly in love with. By the time the doors glide open to reveal the lobby, I’m half-blinded by tears and choked by sobs. I don’t even know where I’m going or how I’ll get there. I left everything upstairs. I just want to go back home to my little apartment and my little job. At least there, I knew where I stood. I was the cleaner. I cleaned their shit and they paid me money. They didn’t pretend to want me and hurt me. I’ve never felt this lost in my life.
“Dani?” Mark takes me by the shoulders when I bump into him. Literally. I can hardly see a thing and don’t care very much, anyway.
At least, I bumped into someone familiar.
“What’s wrong?”
“I—I can’t
talk about it,” I babble, shaking my head. I have to get away from him too. He belongs to the same class of people. People who use their money and everyone around them to get whatever they want. Anyway, the last thing I want is to talk about Brock with his best friend. I don’t want to talk to anybody about what just happened.
It’s all too shameful.
He seems to understand this. At least, the slight smile he gives me says he does. “You need a drink, I think.”
I don’t have the chance to disagree before he’s slinging an arm around me and guiding me out the door. “Where are we going?”
“Anywhere but here. I’m tired of this place, anyway,” he announces. “Some situations call for a drink at a dive bar, don’t you think?”
Truer words were never spoken.
Chapter 33
Dani
“They’re both royally screwed up. They deserve each other,” I say miserably, finishing my drink. Whiskey goes down way too smooth when it’s mixed with ginger ale…and an aching heart.
“I think there’s been some kind of a mistake,” Mark muses, toying with his still half-full glass. Compared to the way he was slinging them back last night, he’s exerting quite a bit of self-control. Or maybe he’s hung over and taking it easy. Regardless, he seems to be thinking hard about what I just described.
“A mistake?” I snort, rolling my eyes. “I should’ve known better than to think I’d get any sympathy from you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re bros, right? You wouldn’t take my side here. Not that I really have a side,” I admit, staring at my empty glass.
“Thanks for giving me so much credit.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t you guys have a stupid code or something? Wouldn’t he defend you if you were in his shoes.”
Kissing Booth Page 14