Cancun: Bad Boys on the Beach: A Standalone Romance Novel

by Kimberly Fox

  Contents

  Copyright

  About

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Epilogue

  CANCUN

  Bad Boys on the Beach

  Ethan

  By KIMBERLY FOX

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  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Contains explicit love scenes and adult language.

  18+

  www.AuthorKimberlyFox.com

  Copyright © 2016 by Kimberly Fox

  “You need a rebound. They call me Mr. Trampoline.”

  What happens in Cancun, unfortunately for my cheating boyfriend, doesn’t stay in Cancun.

  I caught him on the first night of our vacation balls deep in my worst enemy: the bitchy obnoxious girl who my best friend chose to be her maid of honor instead of me.

  Now I’m stuck on this resort, in the same small room as my ex, until my friend gets married at the end of the week.

  This place is a paradise but it feels like hell.

  It’s all going so wrong until I meet Ethan, the dirty talking bad boy with the body carved out of granite.

  He’s going to teach me what paradise is really about.

  And it isn’t sand and palm trees…

  Chapter One

  Tanya

  Day One

  “The aircraft was boarding fifteen minutes ago,” the bitchy looking stewardess says as we rush into the plane.

  “Sorry,” I say, moving past her. I’m clutching my carry-on bag to my chest and I accidentally hit someone in the head with my elbow. “Sorry,” I say, not looking back.

  I lower my eyes to the tacky carpet to avoid the rows of annoyed and irritated eyes staring at me as we head to our seats.

  “I told you we were going to be late,” Aaron whispers behind me. Of course, it’s my fault even though he’s the one who slept in until nine and only decided to pack this morning.

  I swallow the angry words that are rushing to my lips and find our seats instead of starting a fight in the middle of a packed airplane with two hundred people watching.

  “We’re missing time on the beach because of this,” I hear a lady mutter somewhere among the sea of irritated faces.

  Aaron slips into the pair of seats, grabbing the window seat without asking, as I open the overhead compartment to put in our bags.

  Of course, it’s fucking filled. I hate people that won’t check their luggage and then take everyone else’s room for their bags.

  “Let me get that for you,” another, not as bitchy but still pretty bitchy looking stewardess says, grabbing it from me. “Sit down please. The plane is ready to depart.”

  “Sorry,” I say, finally getting into my seat. My chest is heaving and I can finally catch my breath. Running down fourteen gates at full sprint will knock the wind out of you.

  The stewardess slams the overhead compartment closed above me and walks off with my bag, putting it away in a compartment that is way out of my reach. My book and iPod are in there but it’s not the time to complain.

  I buckle my seatbelt extra tight and shake my head. What a disastrous morning. And this was supposed to be so fun.

  Aaron was the one who insisted on leaving only two hours before the flight and somehow it was my fault that there was traffic and we were late. Normally I would have defended myself and fought back but I really don’t want to start the trip off with a fight. I want to reconnect with him this week in Cancun and starting to argue before the plane even takes off the runaway is not the way to do it.

  “At least we made it,” I say, turning to him with a forced smile.

  The earphones are already in his ears and he’s watching some movie on his iPhone. So far the reconnecting is going great.

  The plane jerks backward as it starts rolling away from the gate. My chest tightens and I grab the armrests so hard that my knuckles burn a hot white. I’ve never been the best flyer and all of the running around through the airport made me forget what the end goal was: sitting in a metal tube and hurtling through the sky at a terrifying speed.

  Now that it’s sinking back in I don’t feel so well. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trying to focus on anything but the plane rolling over bumps and the way the wings are bouncing up and down, looking way too flexible for my tastes.

  I tap Aaron’s leg beside me. I need some support, a hand to hold, anything to help me get through this.

  He just ignores me. As usual.

  “Aaron,” I whisper taking his hand in mine.

  He rolls his eyes as he takes the buds out of his ears. “What? I’m watching a show.”

  Why can’t he just comfort me? He knows I’m afraid of flying.

  “I just…never mind.”

  He rolls his eyes and puts the buds back in his ears.

  The plane turns left and then starts to pick up speed as it rolls down the runway. My knuckles are burning and I feel like I’m going to rip the armrest off the seat. Something tells me that I’ll be leaving the plane with a bill for a broken chair.

  The plane takes off and after a few minutes, a near panic attack and a lot of prayers later, we level off in the sky. I pry my eyes open when the seatbelt sign dings off and we’re not dying in a hellish ball of flames.

  “I didn’t think you were going to make it,” Megan says, popping out of nowhere behind me. She sits on my armrest and starts playing with my hair, curling the auburn strands through her fingers. “I thought I might have to hire a Mexican for my missing bridesmaid.”

  “Well you have Stephanie,” I say, looking back to make sure she isn’t behind her. “She takes up enough room for the both of us.”

  “I know,” Megan says with a huge smile. “Isn’t she great?” She turns back and waves to the hot blond sitting a few rows back.

  My stomach hardens with nausea and for the first time today it’s not from the plane.

  “Look,” Megan says, holding up her arm. A shiny silver bracelet is dangling from her wrist. “She bought us matching bracelets for a maid of honor gift. Isn’t that nice?”

  “Wow,” I say, feeling a bit jealous, but not of the tacky present. “Are those real diamonds?”

  “Yup,” Megan says, admiring the piece of jewelry.

  “That’s a nice gift
considering you’ve only known each other for a few months.”

  “Hi bestie!” a high pitched voice cries out behind me give me nauseating chills. Stephanie usually has that effect on me. This girl can’t even let me talk to my best friend without barging over. And yes, she’s my best friend even if the feeling isn’t mutual.

  “Oh hi Tanya,” Stephanie says, looking annoyed when she sees me. “We thought you weren’t going to make it. I got excited there for a minute.”

  “That’s incredibly rude,” I say, staring into her green eyes.

  She waves her hand at me and rolls her eyes. “I’m only kidding…oh, relax.” She turns to Megan. “Is she always like this?”

  Megan continues to stroke my hair. “Tanya is afraid of flying. She’s just a bit on edge.”

  “Come,” Stephanie says, grabbing Megan’s arm and pulling her away from me. “I want to show you what I’m thinking for the new In or Out section of the magazine.”

  “I gotta go,” Megan says, letting my hair slide through her fingers as she stands up. “I’ll see you on the beach!”

  “Okay,” I say as the two of them head back to Stephanie’s seat. She opens up her laptop and Megan watches the screen over her shoulder.

  It hurts to see them together. Megan and I have been best friends since we were little kids and Stephanie came out of nowhere a few months ago and began prying us apart. They work together at a fashion magazine. It was bad when Stephanie took Megan under her wing and started mentoring her but when Megan fell for Stephanie’s brother, Lucas, forget it. It was over. The two of them have been inseparable and I’ve been cast aside like an old stuffed bear that she’s outgrown.

  I turn back around and continue clutching the seats with an iron grip. Aaron laughs beside me at the movie on his phone. I nudge him with my elbow and he jerks his head back. He breathes out in annoyance as he pauses it. “What now?”

  “I thought maybe we could watch a movie together,” I say.

  He grimaces. “I hate listening to it with only one ear bud. It echoes in my head. You understand right?” he asks, before pressing play again.

  No, I don’t. But whatever.

  I glance up the aisle at the closed overhead compartment with my bag in it. I really wish I had grabbed my book but I’m too shy to get up and go get it now. The airplane already hates me because I was late. I can’t add leaning on someone to reach my bag onto my rap sheet.

  Megan’s parents, Frank and Maude, are sitting a few rows ahead of me to the right. Her dad is filling out a crossword puzzle and her mom is knitting. They’re so cute.

  The redheaded stewardess who greeted me with a polite bitchiness at the door of the plane opens the compartment above their heads and struggles to take a bag of blankets down.

  I hope it falls on your head.

  I gasp as a man with the looks of a celebrity and the body of a superhero stands up from the seat in front of Megan’s parents. The stewardess takes a step back and smiles shyly at him, her gorgeous face turning a bright shade of red as he reaches into the compartment to help her out. His tight black t-shirt looks spray painted onto his huge back muscles. He looks like a real man. A really hot, real man.

  “Wow,” I whisper to myself as he reaches up. His arms are jacked with sexy tattoos that sprawl down his biceps to his thick forearms. His jeans are loose enough to look good but tight enough to hug his nice ass. For the first time, I’m glad that Aaron is glued to his iPhone and oblivious to the world going on around him. He’s missing the fact that I’m drooling pretty hard over here.

  Megan’s mom stops knitting and stares up at the guy with an open mouth. I’m jealous of her view of the hot as hell man. He’s enough to make even the most menopausal of women feel like a horny teenager again.

  He grabs the bag of blankets and smiles as he hands it to the stewardess who has stopped breathing for much longer than a human is supposed to hold their breath. She smiles back and swallows hard as she stares at him. “Thank you,” she says in a voice barely above a whisper.

  “You’re welcome,” he says, turning back to his seat. He nods to Megan’s mother before sitting down. Even she turns a bright red and can’t hide the smile on her face, even when her husband, Mr. Carson, flashes her a dirty look.

  The plane hits a small bump of turbulence and everyone else just goes on like business as usual but I’m back to gripping the seat with an army of crazed butterflies in my stomach. Even a guy as hot as him can’t distract me for long from this flying death machine.

  The water trickles out of the sink in the airplane bathroom and I just manage to get a smidgen of water onto my sweaty face before it flows through the cracks in my fingers.

  I take long, deep breaths as I stare at the nervous, pale reflection looking back at me in the mirror. I look horrible, but it’s fitting since I feel like I’m about to die.

  My stomach is in knots and I feel it rumbling around with nerves. Please no. I might have to combine my two biggest fears: flying and shitting in public. Can it get any worse?

  The grumbling in my stomach starts to settle and I take a relieved breath. It’s just nerves. For now.

  There’s a knock on the door behind me so hard that the plastic door shakes.

  “It’s taken,” I say, before concentrating on trying to slow my breathing again.

  The person bangs on the door again. I’m already in a shitty mood and someone just barked up the wrong bathroom stall.

  Another impatient knock. Harder than the last two.

  “Jesus!” I say as I rip the door open ready to give someone a piece of my mind.

  The hot tattooed guy from before is standing in front of me in all of his glory.

  “Jesus,” I whisper to myself. Wait? Did I just say that out loud?

  He smiles the sexiest smile I’ve ever seen. “I’ve been called a god before but never Jesus.”

  I don’t doubt that. He looks like a statue of a Greek god. His body looks like it’s carved out of granite.

  “If you’re a god can you promise to make this plane land safely?” I ask, gripping the side of the door as the plane hits another bump. Maybe that was a bird sucked into the engine and we’re about to go down.

  “Afraid of flying?” he asks with a smirk on his delicious lips.

  “How can you tell?”

  “The pale skin, the sweaty forehead,” he says, pointing to my face.

  Great just how I want to look when I meet the type of man who comes along once every few decades.

  “The bloodshot eyes,” he continues. “The look like you want to vomit.”

  “Okay,” I say, holding my sweaty palm up. “I got it. I look like shit.”

  “I never said that,” he answers with the hint of a smile on his lips.

  Now my palms are really sweaty. I rub them on my pants as my mouth goes dry for some reason.

  “Come on guys,” a bald man in a tweed jacket says behind him. “I really have to go.”

  The hot guy lightly touches my arm and pulls me to the side. “By all means,” he says, waving the man in. “I’ll walk the nice lady back to her seat. She looks like her legs are a little bit wobbly.”

  My skin feels more sensitive than usual as he walks me back down the aisle. He never releases my arm. It feels good to finally have some support and comfort after being ignored all flight from my inconsiderate boyfriend. Plus I don’t think I could stand up on my own two feet right now without any help. But whether that’s from the fear of flying or from my knees weakening at being so close to such a hot guy I have no idea. I can’t tell any more.

  I cringe as he places his hand on my lower back to stabilize me. “Sorry about the sweat,” I say. This plane was making me sweat from every pore in my body but now this guy has my sweat glands working overtime.

  “I’m used to making women sweat,” he says, looking down at me with a grin. “It doesn’t bother me at all.”

  I swallow hard as he walks me past my friends and the two other bridesmaids at the wedding
, Cynthia and Julia. Cynthia elbows Julia who is reading a book. They both watch us pass with wide open mouths and even wider eyes. I give them a little wink.

  My seat comes faster than I’d like it to. “This is me,” I say, turning and looking up at him one last time before he disappears to the other side of the plane and I can only stare at him creepily through a crack in the seat.

  Aaron finally looks up from his phone and jerks his head back when he sees the god of a man who I’m with. I hide my smile. That will teach him to ignore me.

  “Well,” the hot stranger says, his eyes lingering on mine longer than necessary.

  “Well,” I say repeating him. “Have fun in Cancun.”

  “I will,” he says, letting go of my arm and heading back to his seat.

  I bet you will.

  How many girls will he be sending home from vacation with a big fat smile on their satisfied faces? Lucky bitches.

  I slide into my seat and tighten the seatbelt around my waist until it digs into my hip bone and hurts my stomach. My savior walks back to his seat as smoothly and confidently as a tiger walking through the jungle.

  Aaron frowns at me but turns back to his phone. Thankfully I don’t have to explain why a man way hotter than him was touching and flirting with me. I wouldn’t even know how to explain it. There are way hotter girls on the plane than me. And there’s one of them now.

  The redheaded stewardess goes to see Mr. Perfect again to see if he needs anything: a glass of water, an extra pillow, a blowjob. He’s in coach and getting first class service.

  He talks to her for a bit and I wonder if she’s going to be one of his Cancun conquests. She’s slim and pretty and by the way she looks at him she’s down for whatever he’s into.

  I open my seatbelt and shift in my seat, craning my neck past them to see if he’s sitting beside a girl. A smile breaks out across my lips when I see a man so old that he looks like he might have been a passenger on the Wright brothers’ first flight.