Sex Becomes Her

by Regina Cole

  Easing from the bed, Eliza held her breath. Quiet, now. Don’t want to wake him.

  Chandler turned over, putting his back to her side of the room. Good. That meant he wasn’t facing the door anymore.

  Scooping her dress and shoes into her arms, Eliza ducked into the bathroom. Shutting the door with a soft click, she flipped the light on.

  And then she groaned aloud.

  Her dress was ruined—still wet with seawater and the hem was caked with sand. It had been awful to put it back on to get back to the hotel. And now, hours later? No way could she shimmy back into it. Well, a skilled dry cleaner might be able to resurrect it, but it was certainly unusable for her first Hawaii walk of shame. Hardly the tousled sex goddess she’d imagined.

  Crap. What was she supposed to do now?

  Her gaze lit on the plush white robe on the back of the bathroom door. Cliché, maybe, but it would have to do.

  After shoving the dress and pumps into a plastic laundry bag, Eliza shrugged into the robe. Fortunately it was nice and big, so she could wrap it securely around her. Knotting the belt at her waist, she glanced in the mirror.

  Her hair was everywhere, what makeup was left on her face was smudged, and her lips were swollen and reddened from the long makeout session they’d had last night.

  If she ran into anyone, they’d have zero doubts as to what she’d been up to over the last eight hours or so. But this Eliza didn’t care about that. She pinned a bright smile to her face and ran her fingers through her tousled mane.

  Tucking the bag with her clothes in it beneath her arm, she flipped off the light and carefully turned the handle to the bathroom door.

  Chandler’s soft snores greeted her ears. She smiled to herself at the sound. Even asleep, he was adorable.

  No, shut up. It was a one-night stand. That’s all. You’re wild and free this trip, not tied down to any man.

  Her inner voice might have had a point, but Eliza didn’t really care for it very much. Having another round with Chandler seemed like an incredibly fun idea.

  As quietly as she could, she eased open the hallway door and tiptoed out. She didn’t breathe until the bolt clicked home again.

  She waited a moment, just to be sure that Chandler wasn’t going to pop out of the room and ask her where she was going. He didn’t, so she carefully padded down the hall. Trying not to be grossed out by the fact she was walking barefoot on the hotel’s carpeted hallway, Eliza distracted herself by thinking about the day ahead.

  The wedding was the day after tomorrow, so there was sure to be planning and decorating to do. After she grabbed a shower and found some breakfast, she’d get in touch with Bree and offer to help with whatever she could. Surely there was something she could do. If she didn’t keep busy, she might find herself looking for Chandler.

  And tempting as that was, it probably wasn’t a good idea.

  At the elevators, she punched the Down button and waited. Chandler was staying a couple of floors above her. That was probably a good thing. There was still a great possibility she’d run into him in the elevator or the lobby, but at least she wouldn’t be tempted to knock on his bedroom door in the middle of the night.

  Well, she would, but the distance made it less likely that she’d succumb to the temptation.

  As the elevator doors whooshed open, Eliza stepped forward. But then she looked up. Gregory, the groom, was standing in the corner of the elevator, his brows hiked high as he took in the sight of Eliza’s outfit.

  “Good morning,” she said cheerfully, trying to play it off as best she could.

  “Floor?” he said simply as the doors closed behind her.

  “Five, please.”

  The elevator whooshed to life, and Eliza began to pray silently to whoever would listen. Surely she hadn’t done anything bad enough to warrant the groom getting such a bad impression of her the second time she’d ever met the man. Bree was her dear friend, and she couldn’t take the thought of her new husband hating her.

  “Great morning for a workout,” Eliza said, nodding at Gregory’s athletic shoes. “Heading to the gym?” Surely a little friendly conversation would convince him she was on the up-and-up.

  “Yeah,” Gregory said with a small, tight smile. “Got to get in my morning run.”

  “It should be a nice day.”

  “Yeah, it should.”

  Good grief, this elevator was taking forever. It seemed like it had been years since they’d been stuck in that tiny metal box together when it finally slowed to a stop.

  The doors clicked and then opened. Eliza stepped forward, carried on a wave of pure relief.

  “Eliza,” Gregory said, punching the Door Open button and holding it.

  Her breath froze in her throat as she turned. “Yeah?”

  Gregory’s face was a cold, solid mask. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but don’t play it with my cousin. I don’t trust you.”

  She almost fell backward. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard what I said. You’re Bree’s friend, so I don’t have a problem with you now. But if you screw over Chandler for some reason, that will change. And you won’t like me very much then.”

  Eliza stood frozen as the elevator doors closed slowly, removing Gregory’s face from view.

  What the fuck was that about?

  The considerable afterglow of her evening with Chandler had been completely ruined by that cryptic warning. She wrapped her arms over her middle as she made her way back to her room.

  It seemed like her past might have followed her here after all.

  7

  Chandler frowned without opening his eyes and shivered. Damn, it was cold in here. Andrea had always insisted it be much too warm, and ever since the divorce he’d taken great pleasure in cranking the AC up as high as he could. But he might have overdone it this time.

  He drew a deep breath in through his nose, and a faint feminine scent greeted him. He smiled. Eliza. She must be cold, too. Well, a little snuggling would keep them both warm.

  He reached for her, but his hand found cold sheets instead of a soft body.

  “Fuck,” he said aloud as he opened his eyes to the empty hotel room. The bathroom door stood open, and no one was inside. Looking over at the clock, he sighed. Not even eight in the morning, and she’d already hauled ass out of his room.

  Well, what had he expected? Breakfast in bed with sex for dessert? If he was being honest with himself, well, yes, he’d have liked the hell out of that, but it wasn’t to be.

  With a heavy sigh, Chandler pulled himself out of bed and walked naked to the shower. She was intriguing, that was for sure. She’d surprised him yesterday more than once. But today he was going to get to know her much better. And hopefully the night would end as wonderfully as the previous one had.

  The steamy shower chased some of the chill from his skin, and he hummed to himself as he shaved. A quick check of the weather on his smartphone revealed that the day would be beautiful—sunny and low seventies. He pulled on a pair of long khaki shorts and a light blue tee. He slid brown leather sandals onto his feet and ran a comb through his still-damp hair.

  That’ll work.

  He wasn’t dressed to kill, but he’d planned this as a vacation. Of course the vague hope that he’d get lucky had crossed his mind. After all, he was a man. But other than some condoms and a couple of nice outfits for the wedding events, he’d packed mostly casual attire.

  Hopefully Eliza wouldn’t mind that he was dressing for the beach. He wouldn’t mind seeing her in a swimsuit. Or less, actually.

  With the faint hope that he’d see her in the resort restaurant, Chandler left his room and made his way down to breakfast. His stomach rumbled loudly, making him glad that there was no one in the elevator with him.

  He exited the lobby doors and followed the sidewalk around the left side. Fortunately there was no lack of signage pointing to the various attractions on the resort grounds. When the beach came into view, Chandler smiled at t
he row of blue-and-white cabanas along the shoreline. He’d never seen a hammock as a particularly sexy piece of lawn furniture, but now he knew he’d never be able to lie in one again without thinking of Eliza reclining, naked and wanting him.

  With a mental shake of his head, he cleared the tantalizing image. Nothing he could do about that right now other than scan the restaurant for her. If she wasn’t here, he’d play it cool. As much as he wanted to search the resort grounds for her, it wasn’t a smart idea. Space. Time. Patience. They had most of the week. Which would have been much easier if he didn’t know just how incredibly sexy she was.

  “Good morning,” said the dark-haired woman smiling behind the hostess stand. A large purple flower was pinned in her thick, dark hair. “How many?”

  “Just one,” Chandler said after scanning the tables he could see. Damn it, no Eliza. It had been a long shot anyway.

  “Follow me, please.”

  Normally Chandler would have done a surreptitious cataloguing of the hostess’s assets. But this time all he could do was look around for Eliza.

  Holy crap. One night with the woman and she was already under his skin.

  “Chandler! Over here, buddy. There’s room.”

  He glanced to the left, and saw Gregory seated in the corner booth alone. After a quick word with the hostess, Chandler took the menu and sat across from his cousin.

  “You’re up early.”

  “You should talk.” Chandler nodded toward the half-full plate in front of Greg. “What’s got you up with the chickens?”

  “Got up to get my running in. There’s a nice track around the resort, four miles around. Ocean view at least half the way.” Greg wiped his hands on the red linen napkin.

  “Sounds nice. I’ll have to do that later today.”

  After ordering a cup of coffee and a breakfast sandwich, Chandler turned his attention back to his cousin. “Are your nerves getting the best of you yet?”

  Greg smirked. “My nerves have been vibrating ever since I agreed to this crazy-ass scheme.”

  “Agreed? You mean Bree proposed to you?” Chandler didn’t bother hiding his surprise. After all, his cousin had always been an alpha kind of guy. He’d never dreamed that Greg would let a significant other take the lead.

  “Not exactly.” Greg frowned down at his plate. “I misspoke. Sorry. Just . . . wedding nerves.”

  “I get it,” Chandler said. And he did, at least a little. He’d been pretty young when he’d married Andrea. But Gregory was in his thirties now. Surely he knew what he was doing, right?

  “You know, it’s not too late to change your mind about all this. I know it’s hard to think about, but—”

  “I had an interesting conversation in the elevator this morning.” Greg cut off Chandler’s concern. “I didn’t think I’d see the walk of shame this early into the trip.”

  “Oh really?” Chandler kept his tone cool.

  “Really. It was that girl you were sitting with last night. Eliza. Looked like she’d been up three-quarters of the night and having a helluva time.”

  Well, Greg was right, but he didn’t have to know that.

  “You know, I’ve always heard it’s impolite to gossip.” Chandler smiled up at the waitress as she brought him a steaming cup of coffee, then took a sip of the bitter, black brew. “Damn, this is good coffee.”

  “It’s local. All the guests are getting a bag at the reception. And it’s not gossip if I’m looking out for you. You’re more like my brother than my cousin. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  Chandler leaned forward and pitched his voice low. “What the hell is with this Papa Bear crap? What did Eliza ever do to make you think she’s bad for me? Jesus Christ, Greg, we just met. Yeah, we spent the night together, but that was just as much my decision as hers.”

  Greg blew a breath out toward the ceiling. “I was afraid of that.”

  “What? If you don’t stop being so goddamn cryptic I’m going to beat your ass. And don’t pretend that I can’t, because we both know exactly how many seconds it takes me to put you in a figure four.”

  Gregory smiled as Chandler mimed one of their favorite wrestler’s submission moves.

  “It’s been a long time since you busted my ass with a German suplex, Chandler. I think I could take you now.”

  “Want to test it out?”

  Gregory shook his head, and some of the tension eased between them.

  Chandler took another sip of his coffee, and the silence lengthened. He still hadn’t gotten an answer from Greg, but he was willing to give the man a chance to collect his words. But before they left this table, he’d know exactly what Greg did. He deserved that much, didn’t he?

  “I just remember what it was like for you after Andrea pulled her shit.”

  Chandler shook his head. “This is completely different. I’ve learned my lesson now. And besides, I just met this girl.”

  “Hey, you didn’t know you were sticking your dick in crazy at the time, man. But Eliza, well . . .” Greg trailed off, dropping his fork beside his plate with a clink. Rubbing a hand over his short hair, he tried again. “I just think maybe she’s into things that aren’t compatible with you.”

  “Like what?”

  Gregory shook his head. “I can’t go into more detail than that. All I know is her last relationship blew up because of her weird bedroom shit. I know you’re not going to leave her alone because I asked you to, but I want you to know that she’s, well, not normal.”

  Chandler just stared at Greg for a long moment.

  “Your bacon and egg bagel, sir. Would you like anything else?”

  “No thanks,” Chandler replied to the waitress. “This is fine.”

  After she’d gone, Chandler looked at Greg.

  “I don’t know what happened with her last guy, but last night was good. Hell, it was incredible. So I’m sorry if I don’t seem like your warning is appreciated. I’m not interested in a relationship; I just want to have fun on this trip. So whatever she’s got going on doesn’t really have a damn thing to do with me.”

  Greg frowned, but nodded.

  Chandler really didn’t taste his breakfast after that.

  Eliza took much longer than usual to shower and wash her hair. She even triple-conditioned it, just because the first two times she wasn’t sure she’d left it in long enough. But when her fingertips started to resemble raisins more than human skin, she conceded defeat and turned off the shower.

  She stood there, naked, shivering. Even though she knew it was silly, she had just kind of wanted to wash away the feelings that Gregory’s warning had stirred in her. Whether he meant to or not, he’d made her feel dirty. Wrong. Weird. Just like the people back home did. Logically she knew that the hot water and soap couldn’t make her feel better, but that was all she had. All the scrubbing in the world couldn’t take back that feeling, but that didn’t stop her from trying.

  She dried her hair and brushed it until it shone. A light application of makeup made her feel like she’d donned some armor. A light green sundress skimmed her thighs, strappy brown sandals crisscrossing over her feet. She frowned at her toes. The peach-colored polish didn’t exactly match her outfit, but what the hell. It wasn’t like she’d ever been concerned about toenail-coordination before, and she sure as crap wasn’t going to start now.

  Shrugging into a white cardigan, she examined herself in the mirror. Not bad. She didn’t look like a sexual deviant, anyway.

  With a mental “shut up” to her evil subconscious, she stuffed her room key into her bag and yanked open her bedroom door. She wasn’t hungry, but the headache stirring behind her temples told her it was time to scout out some caffeine.

  She glanced at the clock. Half-past eight. The restaurant was probably getting crowded by now, or at least it would be soon. She didn’t really feel ready to face a crowd. In the lobby, she checked the giant map of the resort mounted on the wall.

  “Perfect,” she sighed to herself when she saw the c
offee bar and ice cream shop across the resort from the restaurant. She could grab a scone or a muffin with her latte, and that would be a good breakfast. It wasn’t likely she’d see anyone from the wedding party there, anyway.

  A twinge of longing pierced her as she thought of him. Chandler. Was he disappointed that she’d left without a word? He couldn’t be mad; it was just a one-night thing. He didn’t have any hold over her.

  But now she wished she’d stayed. That way she wouldn’t have run into Gregory.

  She looked at the sidewalk as she walked, not wanting to lift her gaze. These feelings shouldn’t be here on this trip with her. The regret, the shame, they’d been her constant companions for months. But here in Hawaii was supposed to feel different. Nobody knew what had gone on back home. So why would Greg talk to her like that? What had she ever done to him?

  He must know something about Tyler. And the only way he could was through Bree.

  The thought of her friend telling her darkest secrets made Eliza’s heart ache. Pressing her hand into her chest, Eliza walked faster. No. No way would Bree have spread rumors about her to her fiancé. That was completely impossible, and she refused to give it any more thought.

  But Bree could ask Greg why he’d warned Eliza away from Chandler. And Eliza made up her mind to ask her friend the next time she saw her alone.

  The light around her suddenly dimmed, and Eliza reluctantly looked up. A puffy white cloud had moved in front of the morning sun, turning the cheerful breeze a little cool. Eliza sighed as she pulled the strap of her purse higher on her shoulder.

  It figured. Her personal clouds were even blocking out the tropical sun.

  “Hey, Eliza! Good morning!”

  A cheerful voice from behind Eliza drew her attention. She smiled and waited on the edge of the sidewalk.

  “Hey, Stacey. Good to see you.”

  Stacey’s cheeks were flushed red and she fanned herself with her palm as she stopped beside Eliza. “I was hustling to try to catch up with you. I wondered if I could get your help with something.”