by Megyn Ward
And I could use the money. I hand Blake my glass. “Hell, yeah.”
I follow Diana to the bar and slide under the pass-through—which reminds me of the fact that the last time I did, I had my legs wrapped around Zach’s waist and his cock was throbbing between my legs.
Great. Now I’m back to being horny and stupid.
Timothy gives me a thumbs up. He grabs a white apron from under the bar and tosses it to me. “Kylie to the rescue.”
I wrap the apron around my waist and grab a tray. At least this way I’ll stay busy enough to forget about what a loser I am.
Diana and I practically run from table to table serving drinks, taking payments and crap from the customers. I don’t mind it, as long as we don’t get another table full of Pudges, I’m happy.
The crowd spills from the concrete floor covered by the palapa into the sand. I kick off my borrowed wedges and make better time in my bare feet. The tips are piling up and we still have several hours of prime bar time before it’ll lighten up. I’m almost glad Zach didn’t show.
Almost.
I spin away from the bar, my tray full of daiquiris and pina coladas. From the corner of my eye I see a slick sports car slow and pull into a spot along the road. I start across the packed bar, weaving my way through the knot of people, letting the thumping music and the escalating party voices roll over me. The guy in the sports car crosses the dark sidewalk and steps into the light from the bar. I nearly drop my tray. I stop moving, my nerves jangling.
How sick am I that I notice how great Zach looks? He’d been good in his dress slacks and crisp button-up yesterday but in his shorts and summer shirt, he looks even better. Those damned dimples.
Some convoluted mixture of outrage and desire stirs itself in my gut. Confuses me. Makes me dizzy.
Whatever it is, it makes my skin itch and my heart thump against my ribs.
Chapter 23
Zach
I pull my car into a tight spot on the side of the road several yards from The Green Frog. I push the door open against the aggressive jungle growing on the roadside. If I’d been driving on the right side of the road, I’d have climbed out on the street or if this damned bar had a parking lot I wouldn’t be getting attacked by the trees. I fight my way around the front of the car and stomp toward the bar. This is not going to be a good meeting.
The music throbs into the night, along with voices of people getting tanked. Light streams from the palapa. In the old days, like two days ago, I’d be downing scotch and well on my way to a getting laid. Now I’m trying to figure out how to please a spoiled little rich girl when what I want to do is find Kylie—and not to do what I have to do. I want to find her. Ask her to talk a walk with me on the beach. Talk to her. Get to know her.
I don’t know whether to curse Niles or Jonas or myself. Whoever was to blame, I’m not having the time of my life in paradise.
I take the steps from the sidewalk into the bar that’s perched on the edge of the beach.
“Hey! Zach!” Drew hollers at me from a table close to the beach. “Let the party begin!” It looks to me like the party’s already in full swing. Drew sits with a half dozen people I’ve never seen before. I suppose he had to find a new crowd since the girls we went diving with were winging their way back to England by now. To be honest, I can’t believe he has the balls to come back here after the stunt he pulled on Kylie the other night. I give him a wave so he’ll stop yelling and scan the crowd for her.
Someone tugs on my arm and I turn to see one of Drew’s new friends latch on to me. She has the kind of perfectly round tits only money can buy and they’re doing their best to get my attention. One more jiggle and they’ll escape their flimsy fabric prison. Her eyes glisten, slightly unfocused, her grin sloppy.
“Drew says you need to come with us.” She laughs like she just told a joke.
I extricate my arm. “I’ll be over there in a minute,” I lie. I’m here to find Kylie. That’s it.
The drunk chick throws her arms around my neck and mashes her rock-hard tits into my chest. Before I can stop her, she kisses me, thrusting her tongue into my mouth. Fitting my hands around her arms, I push her away as gently as I can. “Look—”
“Sheila and I only have one more night on Cayman and we want to make it memorable.” Despite my best effort, she’s still hanging off my neck like a chimp. “Drew says you really know how to party.”
That’s twice in about as many days that I haven’t taken the easy lay handed to me. And both times involved Kylie. I try not to think about what that might mean.
Like thinking about her conjured her out of thin air, she walks by. She keeps her focus dead ahead, her tray of drinks held stiffly in front of her. She’s ignoring me but I know she sees me.
Drunk chick starts licking my ear. Okay. Gentle isn’t going to work. I reach up and pry her off my neck. “Get off me.”
Her mouth flies open and she stands there, her overly made-up mouth flapping like a fish. “Fuck you,” she finally manages. “What the—”
Hurrying after Kylie, I jump in front of her. “Hey.” It’s impossible with the beer and cocktails and the crush of people, but I swear I catch that sweet, lemony scent of hers. I’m instantly relaxed and worked up, all at once.
She looks at me like she’s never seen me before in her life and it bothers me a million times more than if she’d yelled and screamed at me.
Desperation suddenly floods me and it has nothing to do with the ridiculous promise I made Liesa. I grab her arm and jostle the drinks, slopping beer and brightly colored slush onto her tray. “I need to talk to you.”
She pries my hand off her arm and with clenched teeth, says, “I’m working.” She moves around me again. She arrives at a packed table and starts passing around the drinks.
She wants to play it that way? Fine.
I snag an empty seat at the table she’s serving and glare up at her. “I’ll have a beer.”
She smiles at the people clustered around the table who are watching our little drama with avid, if drunken interest. She takes the money the guy to her left is handing her and drops it in her apron.
“I said I’ll take a beer.” I’ll be fucked if she’s going to ignore me. I try to sound angry but what I really am is scared shitless that this is it. That she’ll never talk to me again.
Because you need her to make this thing with Liesa work. That’s all this is.
Yeah. Right.
“You pay first.” She says it without looking directly at me, busy clearing empty plastic cups off the table in front of her.
I dig into my wallet and pull out a twenty. “Keep the change.”
She snatches it and shoves it into the apron with the rest of her money.
Spinning on the balls of her bare feet, she starts to move and I jump up to follow her because I’m pretty sure if I don’t, I’ll never see her again.
“Now, will you talk to me?”
“Still working.” She slips through the crowd. She’s small and fast. I have to shove people out of the way to keep up with her.
“Come on, Kylie.” A part of me is glad she’s not making it easy. That she’s not charmed by the dimples and the money. “Let me explain. Please.”
“It’s not necessary.” She finally gets to the bar. “Can you get this guy a beer, Timothy?”
Shit.
“Kylie, please.” I squeeze into a spot next to her at the bar. “I got caught up at—”
The bartender set a plastic cup of beer in front of me. “Five bucks.”
“This one’s on me.” She slaps my twenty on the bar, along with another five dollar bill before turning to look at me. “Don’t follow me.”
Then she’s gone, slipping between to crowds of drunks before disappearing completely.
Chapter 24
Kylie
He’s still here.
I figured if I shut him down hard enough, he’d give up and leave me alone. For a while that’s exactly what I thought he did. H
e took his beer and set up camp at Pudge’s table. Somehow that walking shit stain managed to land a table full of women all by himself.
Money is amazing that way.
As soon as he sits down, half of them start throwing themselves at Zach. He’s polite but keeps them at a distance while he nurses the beer I bought him.
That’s when I realize I’m in trouble.
He won’t stop staring at me. Won’t leave even though he looks about ready to pass out.
He probably is. He was up all night, taking care of your drunk ass and then had to go straight to work.
Oh, hell no.
I’m not going to feel sorry for him He fucking stood me up. Practically begged me to go out with him and then didn’t have the decency to even show up.
He’s an asshole.
A rich, entitled asshole.
Yeah—a rich, entitled asshole who has a direct line to your father.
Diana looks beat so I tell her I’ll take care of closing.
“Are you sure?” Diana shoots a quick, narrowed-eye glare over my shoulder. I don’t have to look. I know Zach is behind me, sitting on the concrete wall surrounding the patio outside the bar.
“Yup.” I nod, shooting a quick look at Blake. He’s been staring at Zach for the past thirty minutes, practically snarling into his beer glass. If Diana’s noticed his junkyard dog routine, she hasn’t said anything. “I’ll be fine.”
Giving me a reluctant shrug, she makes her way to the bar and loops her arm through Blake’s and says something to him that makes him shake his head. She says something else, her tone low and firm while she tugs on his arm. He shoots me a final look before he finally relents. Draining his glass he stands and lets Diana pull him toward the door.
They stop briefly in front of Zach and words are exchanged. Still too low for me to hear what’s being said but if the way Diana is pulling on Blake’s arm and the way Zach’s jaw clenches are any indications, they aren’t exchanging recipes.
Diana finally manages to drag Blake away from Zach. As soon as they’re gone he goes back to waiting quietly and staring at his hands.
He’d spent quite a bit on drinks for the halfwit Girls Gone Wild, but despite the fact that he’d kept them well-oiled, he kept pushing the blonde off his lap and pulling her arms away from his neck. At last call, he poured them all into a cab and sent them on their way, waving Pudge off when he tried to talk into an afterparty.
“You need a ride home?” I look over to watch Timothy zip up the bank bag stuffed with tonight’s take.
“No.” I shake my head. “You can take off. I’ll finish closing up.”
He hesitates for a second, shooting Zach a quick look. “Okay,” he says it like Diana did. Reluctantly. Like he doesn’t want to leave without me.
“I’ll be fine,” I say, grabbing the broom we use to lift the shutters off their hooks so we can lock up before venturing out onto the patio. A few minutes later, I hear his rust bucket start up and putter away.
Focusing on the shutters, I lift them off their hooks before letting them bang closed, locking each one before I move on to the next. I’m trying to not to think about what I’m doing. Why I’m here. Why I sent everyone away, leaving the two of us alone.
Not horny.
Just stupid.
Finished, I take to broomstick back inside and put it back where Timothy keeps it behind the bar. When I turn around, Zach is standing in the doorway.
“I got caught up at work.” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t get away and I don’t have your cell phone number so I couldn’t call—”
“I don’t have a cell phone.”
“Oh.” His brow furrows a bit like he doesn’t understand what I just said. “I’m sorry.”
I’m not sure what he’s sorry for—standing me up or for the fact that I’m too poor to afford a cell phone. Either way, his apology rankles me. “Don’t be.” I shake my head. “It’s not a big deal—can you get out so I can lock up?”
He looks around like he’s just noticing that he’s somehow managed to make his way inside. He steps out onto the patio again and I shut the door in his face. Locking it, I flip off all the lights and grab my purse before giving the bathroom a final check. When I exit through the backdoor Zach and I used this morning he’s standing in the sand, a few feet away.
“It’s a big deal to me.”
When all I do is twirl my finger, gesturing for him to turn around so I can dig the key from its hiding spot he turns and sighs. “Goddamnit, Kylie. I’m trying—”
“Oh, no—” I shove the key in the lock and give it a lift and twist, jiggling the knob until I feel the lock catch. “You don’t get to goddamn it, Kylie me. You stood me up,” I shout, practically tossing the key back where it belongs. I’m being irrational. He’s right—how could he have let me know he couldn’t make it or tell me he was going to be late?—but I don’t care.
I can’t.
Guard your heart.
I can practically hear my mother’s voice in my ear.
When I turn around he’s looking at me again, shoulders slumped. “I got stuck at work.”
“Go back to your penthouse, Zach.” I forget that I’m supposed to be reeling him in. That he has something I want—access to Jonas Knightly. Right now, none of that matters. Right now I just need to get away from him before I do or say something stupid.
Like ask him to fuck you and take you to breakfast?
He looks at me like I just hit him in the face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means go drive your Mercedes and eat your fucking lobster—” I try to shoot past him and onto the beach but he stops me, snagging me by my wrist to hold me in place.
I could scream. Make a scene. No one would hear me or probably even care, but it would probably be enough to get him to let go of me. If that’s what I really wanted.
Which it isn’t.
I don’t want him to let me go. If anything, I want him to pull me closer.
“I’m sorry.” His hold on me shifts, his hand slipping lower. His fingers lacing with mine, turning me. Pulling me against him. “I would have given anything to be with you tonight.” He lifts his free hand and pushes it through my hair. “You’re all I can think about.”
My throat goes dry and I feel myself start to bend. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know you’re a hell of a diver and that you work harder than anyone I’ve ever seen.” His thumb strokes my cheek, the warmth of it seeping into my skin. Spreading and growing. Down my neck and across my chest. Pushing lower, into my belly. “I know you like bananas and that you look like a mermaid when you float on the water in the moonlight.” He leans into me and I feel my breath catch. “I know you smell like sunshine and lemons and that every time I get close to you I have to hold my breath because breathing you in makes it hard for me to think straight.”
Jesus, what is he doing to me?
That’s the last coherent thought I have before his mouth brushes against mine. “Zach...” I whisper it against him, shuddering softly when I feel his tongue lick along my lower lip. I let him in, moaning when I feel his fingers tighten in my hair. He kisses me, his tongue tangling around mine, hot and desperate. Until neither of us can breathe. Until I feel my knees start to loosen and my head begins to swim.
Finally he breaks away. “I’m sorry, Kylie.” His teeth grazing and nipping my mouth. My jawline. My throat. “Let me make it up to you...” The pressure of his tongue against my throat draws a direct line to my clit and it instantly starts to throb.
Make it up to me?
I almost ask how but then he’s reaching down and gathering me into his arms and carrying me onto the beach. I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face in his chest, breathing deep the smell of his expensive aftershave. Listening to the gentle lap of the ocean against the sand. The feel of Zach’s strong arms holding me so effortlessly I feel weightless. Like I’m floating.
Eyes closed, I let go.
O
f my need to make my father pay for what he did to me and my mother.
Of my worry about what tomorrow will bring.
Of my fear that no matter what I do or how hard I try, I’ll never be good enough.
I sway in his arms for a moment before I feel the give of cool sand against my shoulders. The backs of my thighs and I open my eyes onto the blanket of stars that hang overhead.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Dipping my gaze slightly, I find Zach hovering above me, his blue eyes dark and full of something that knocks my heart against my ribcage. Something that makes it easy for me to believe he means it.
“Make it up to me,” I whisper, reaching up to thread my fingers through his hair.
His gaze lowers, the weight of it heavy and hot against my mouth. His fingers warm as I feel them skim up the inside of my thigh, under the skirt of my sundress. He leans closer, his lips skimming my jawline. “I thought you’d never ask.” He whispers it in my ear, stroking me through my panties as his mouth moves lower. Licking across my collarbone. The deep V that splits the top of my sundress. Without thinking, I reach up and pull it to the side, exposing my breast. Offering myself to his mouth. I think he laughs or maybe he swears—I’m not sure. Every shred of reason I’ve fought to hold on to floats away when I feel the tip of his tongue circle my swollen nipple. “Christ,” he groans against me, his teeth nipping and teasing while his fingers jerk my panties to the side. “So fucking wet...” he pushes past my slick fold to tease my entrance with the tips of his fingers while his thumb finds my clit and begins to stroke me, giving me slow rhythmic circles.
He lifts his head, his dark blue gaze snagging mine as his fingers slide into me so fast I gasp. “Zach—” Digging my shoulders into the sand, I arch my back, pushing my breast into his open mouth. Groaning when he closes it over my nipple and starts to suck. Fucking me with his fingers, he curls their tips, stroking the walls of my pussy so deep and hard I reach up to grip his shoulder, eyes going wide before they slam shut. “Ohhh...”