I hold her in my hands as I kiss her lips and neck. She whimpers, moans, and gasps for air as I fuck her with pure need. My thighs scream due to the fact I’m standing up. My arms tire from her weight, but I don’t stop. She comes on my dick with my name on her lips, and the feel of her pulsing around me has me following her.
I stand on shaky legs, still holding her up against the wall, and just stare at her. A small smile on her face and a blush in her cheeks. We’re still in a bubble of water invisible to the world around us. At this very moment, it’s as if no one else exists.
“Well …” She takes a deep breath. “Guess you caught me,” She takes another deep breath. “I was lying after all.”
I let out a laugh as I try to catch my breath as well. “So I am a sex God?”
“Oh, shut it.” She tries to push me away from her as she unwraps her legs from my waist, but my hands stop her. I’m not ready to let her go. And I can’t help but think that in a week, this gorgeous, wild hurricane is going to live in the same building as I do.
Thunder booms behind us, and then lightning lights up the sky. It makes her blue eyes look almost see-through. My heart pounds in my chest, I’m covered in goose bumps, and my entire body shakes. I could blame it on the rain, the cold, but the truth is, she did it to me.
“Happy birthday, Ryder,” she says softly. And I know for a fact that no birthday will ever be as good as this one.
I place my hand on her neck and lean in for one more taste because well, I just can’t get enough of her.
***
Two hours later, I’m walking out of Jaycent’s room after using his shower. Looking out the living room windows, I see that it’s still raining just as hard as it was earlier. I make my way into the kitchen, open the fridge, and grab a beer. As I sit down on the couch, I see the door to my bedroom open, and Ashlyn walks out. My hand freezes as the tip of the bottle touches my lips while my cock starts to harden. She’s dressed in a pair of my gray sweatpants; they hang really low on her narrow hips and are so long they cover up her feet. She wears a white t-shirt of mine that hangs off one shoulder, letting me know that she doesn’t have a bra on. My first thought is to take her back out on the balcony and let the water soak the shirt, but then we’d both need another shower. Her hair is wet but up in a bun, showing off her neck, and my lips crave to kiss the soft skin.
She spots me and gives me a big smile as she plops down on the chair opposite the couch. I hate the distance between us. “Hope you don’t mind,” she says, gesturing to my clothes that cover her body.
“Not at all,” I say, clearing my throat and taking the sip of my beer I had intended to do before she walked out.
“I didn’t go through your stuff, I promise. These were on the end of your bed,” she explains. “And well, my clothes are still very wet.” She laughs.
I nod as I get off the couch. “Would you like a beer?” I need to walk it off. The thought of us outside is consuming me.
She lays her head back and looks up at the ceiling. “Yeah, I’ll take one more. Please.”
I walk over to her from the fridge. She remains looking up at the ceiling, eyes closed and lips parted while her chest rises and falls as she breathes deeply. I need a distraction. “So what did you major in?” I ask as I hand her a beer.
“Thank you.” She takes a sip as I go back over to the couch. “Art History,” she says, eyeing me. Seconds later, she laughs. “I know that look.”
“What look?” I ask, watching the way her eyes shine when she laughs. The lightning that lights up the room has them glowing.
She smiles at me warmly. “The one that says what are you gonna do with that degree?”
“No, I wasn’t—”
She waves me off. “I’ve heard it all my life,” she says, and I frown. “I have always had a thing for art. Ever since I can remember,” she explains. “Other kids begged their parents to take them to the park or the zoo. I always begged my mom to take me to the art museum or gallery.” She pauses and takes a sip of her beer. “I am fascinated at how you can take one piece of art and everyone who looks at it will interpret it differently. Have you ever been to an art gallery?”
I shake my head. “I don’t get out much. Work takes up all of my time. If I’m not working in New York, I’m flying across the world for work.”
She frowns. “That must get old.”
“Not really. I love my job.”
“I guess getting to see the world would be a plus.”
“Well, if you consider looking at it through hotel room windows and airplanes, then yeah, it’s a plus.”
She smiles softly. “Sounds like you needed this vacation.”
I nod. “The last real vacation I took was years ago.” She looks down at her beer bottle and starts to pick at the label. “What are your plans once you’re in New York?”
She lifts her bottle and takes another sip. “I have an interview with Talia’s Gallery the day after we get there.”
“Wow,” I say slowly. “Talia’s …”
“Yeah.” She laughs softly. “I was shocked too when they called me for an interview. I had a professor whose family lives in New York. She informed me that they were looking for a gallery associate for marketing and sales.”
“That”—I pause to think of the right words—“would be amazing.”
“It would be, but they want someone who has at least two years of experience. It’s a long shot, but I’m confident that I can change their mind,” she says with a smile.
“I have no doubt,” I say, looking her up and down again, ready to change the subject. She has her legs crossed and the way she is sitting in the chair has her shirt falling more off her shoulder. I lick my lips.
“Stop it.”
My eyes shoot back on hers. “Stop what?” I ask innocently.
“Looking at me like that,” she says as a matter-of-fact.
“How am I looking at you?” I lift the beer to my lips to hide my smile.
She shakes her head, as she smiles “It’s not happening again.”
You’re just lying to yourself. “Ever?”
She goes to answer, but the door to the hotel swings open. Jaycent walks in with narrowed eyes and a tight jaw. “What happened?” I ask, standing. He just shakes his head as he continues through the hotel room. I watch him fist his hands down by his side and I catch a little speck of blood on them. He goes into his room and slams the door shut.
“What was that about?” she asks looking back and forth from the door to me.
“He went after Conner,” I inform her.
She smiles. “I hope he beat his ass.”
I chuckle. “I have no doubt about that.”
ASHLYN
“I’ve never liked him,” I say, shifting in my seat to sit on my right foot. “I met Becca the first day of class freshman year. I met Conner right after our class,” I scowl. “Right off the bat, I knew he was gonna be a pain in the ass.”
“Yeah, Becca and I always got along really well. Until he came along,” he growls.
“Why is that?”
“Because she didn’t like what I had to say about him.” He sighs. “She was a freshman in high school when they met at a party. I was away at Brown University and was on the phone with my mother when she started talking about this guy named Conner. I asked who he was, and I admit that I already didn’t like him. I tried to tell Mom that, from my standpoint, she was too young to date. He is two years older than she is, after all. Well, my father was too busy with work to even notice they were together, and my mother was too wrapped up in her life that no one knew how serious it got so fast.” The muscles in his neck tighten as he talks about his mother. “Becca fell hard. I came home that Christmas, and my father had actually taken off work to go away for a weekend. It was our first and last family vacation. We had plans to go skiing. I was outside helping pack the limo. Conner walked out and just threw his bag on the ground. Too fucking lazy to place it in the limo. So before he could go b
ack into the house, I jumped in the driver seat and put it in reverse …”
“You did not!” I gasp.
He nods. “I did.” I start to laugh. “It wasn’t like I ran his ass over. He cried and said I broke his hip.” He rolls his eyes. “I did knock him off his feet.”
“God, I wish I could have seen that,” I say with laughter.
“My mother was mad at me. Becca didn’t talk to me the entire trip. The only person who was on my side was my father. By that time, my father couldn’t stand him either.” He takes a drink of his beer.
“I once made him think he had herpes,” I say proudly.
He spits his beer out and places his hand over his mouth to catch what ran down his chin. “How did you manage to pull that off?” he asks wide-eyed.
I smile. “One night, while he and Becca were in bed, I snuck into their room and took two pairs of his boxers.” His brows lift to his hairline. “The following day, I went to my parents’. They live outside Seattle on twenty acres. Anyway, I found some poison ivy and rubbed his underwear in it.” He burst out laughing. “I put them back and he wore them.” I shrug. “He went to the doctor; he was so afraid to tell Becca ‘cause he thought he had caught something. I heard him telling a friend on the phone that if he told her, then she would know he fucked around on her. Come to find out, it was just poison ivy. He finally told her and they tried for weeks to figure out where he could have gotten it. They never figured it out and I never told her what I did.”
“That is genius.” He lifts the drink to his lips but lowers it as he looks at me. “I’m gonna have to keep an eye on you.”
I smile and give him a wink. “Yes, you will,” I agree.
***
For the second day in a row, I wake up in Ryder O’Kane’s hotel bed, tired, and sore.
I open my eyes and look out the bedroom window to see dark gray clouds lingering in the sky. The windows have water spots on them, but I don’t see that it is raining at this very moment.
I yawn, stretching my arms and legs out once again because I’m sore all over from what we did last night on the balcony. But this time when I roll over, I don’t see a naked man with short dark hair. I see a pretty woman with long dark hair, still dressed in her clothes from the night before. Becca must feel my eyes on hers because they flutter open. She groans, running her hand over her face.
“Good morning, princess,” I say with a smile.
“Morning,” she mumbles before pulling the fluffy white comforter up and over her head.
“You need to take some more Advil,” I inform her.
“More?” She pulls the covers from her face and looks at me with her puffy eyes. She blinks a few times as if to bring me into focus.
I get out of the bed and make my way to the bathroom. “Yes. I gave you some last night before you passed out. Now, you need to take some more.” I grab some off Ryder’s counter and then grab the glass sitting in the corner and fill it with some water.
“Then why do I still feel like a Mack truck ran me over?” she asks, sitting up as I reenter the bedroom.
“Because you drank like three times your weight,” I say with a soft smile.
She gladly takes the Advil and water from me. After she swallows them, she pauses to look around the room. “Where are we?”
“We’re in Ryder’s hotel bedroom.”
“What? Why?” She looks up at me, green eyes wide.
“I brought you in here last night to go to the bathroom. On our way out, you said everything was spinning, and you just wanted to lay down for a second. You were out the moment your head hit the pillow.”
She drops her head in her hands. I place the water on the nightstand, and she starts to cry. “Hey,” I say as I sit down beside her. She sobs as she turns to face me and places her head on my chest
“I’m so sorry,” she cries.
“Why?” I ask, running my hand down the back of her shirt. “You did nothing wrong,” I tell her.
She nods against my chest. “I have ruined our vacation.”
I push her away from my chest so I can look her in the eyes. “Becca,” I say gently. “You haven’t ruined our vacation. What would make you think that?”
She wipes the tears from her face. “Our first night here, I left you at a bar by yourself.” I go to speak, but she stops me. “Then last night, I left you again to chase Conner down. Then all I did was come back and cry over a stupid boyfriend. I drank so much I passed out. This time was supposed to be just you and me, and I just keep dumping you by yourself.” Now, she’s back to sobbing.
I rub her shoulder and give her a soft smile. “You haven’t ruined anything, Becca. I assure you.”
“Conner dumped me last night,” she whispers with shame.
I grind my teeth at the sorry little bastard for breaking her heart once again. “Maybe things have settled down,” I offer. “Once we get down to our room and you guys talk, he’ll apologize.” I almost laugh at my words. Conner apologize? That won’t happen.
She shakes her head. “Last night when I told you that I had found him in the bar, well, we ended up going back to our room. He packed all of his stuff and left.”
“What?” I demand. “Where the hell did he go?” We’re in Florida, for God’s sake. “Did he get his own room?”
She shakes her head. “He had been on the phone with his dad when he left Ryder’s hotel last night, and he asked his dad to get him an early flight back. He packed his stuff and left.”
I don’t know what to say, so I just pull her into my arms. I slowly rock us back and forth as I hold her to me while whispering, “I’m sorry.” What else is there for me to do? I can’t put her broken heart back together. And I sure as hell can’t make Conner come back to her.
I also feel like our trip is over. That maybe we should just go back to Seattle. I’ve never had my heart broken per se, but I know what it feels like to no longer be wanted. And the only place you want to be in is your bed with the people who love you. There’s no reason to stay here in Florida when she’s not going to even want to leave the room.
“Why don’t you go and take a hot bath,” I say, “And I’ll order us some breakfast from room service. Does that sound like a good plan?”
She pulls away, nodding. She very slowly makes her way over to the bathroom and shuts the door. I get up to open the bedroom door quietly so as not to wake Ryder, who I know slept on one of the couches last night.
“Morning.”
My head snaps up when I hear Ryder’s deep voice. I look in the living room, but he’s not there. I scan the room as I walk and find him in the kitchen. He’s wearing the same black basketball shorts he was wearing last night minus the t-shirt. The shorts lay low on his hips showcasing his defined V and sculpted abs. His smooth chest and broad shoulders have my mouth watering. “Good morning,” I say, quickly looking away. Now is not the time to stare at my best friend’s brother when she is hurting.
I look out the sliding glass door to the clouds and sigh as I remember what we did out there last night. Without thought, my eyes go back to him. His brows crease, and he frowns. “What’s wrong?”
I run a hand through my hair. “I’m gonna call and change our flights.” I keep my eyes trained on his, avoiding his bare chest. “We’re gonna head on back to Seattle today.”
His frown deepens. “Becca wants to go home early?”
I sit down at the bar. “No. She told me everything that happened between her and Conner last night, and well, let’s just say that he’s history. And I know she would much rather be in her own home than here.”
“Fucking bastard,” he hisses under his breath. Then he tilts his head to the side as if in thought. “Why don’t you guys come to New York?”
I just stare at him blankly. “You’re joking.”
He shakes his head, causing his long dark hair to cover his eyes. The long layers aren’t spiked as they lay down. He runs his hands through it to push them out of his face, and it takes everythi
ng in me to not lean over this bar and place my hands in it while I kiss his delicious lips. “I’m dead serious. You have another three days of vacation. Why don’t you just fly back to New York with us today and spend them there? You guys can stay with me.” He smiles sheepishly. “If not, I’m sure my mother has your apartment ready by now. But if not, I’ll be at work during the day, so you’ll have my place to yourself. But you ladies are more than welcome to.”
That’s a horrible idea. I’ve already broken my first rule I made with him. “Thanks. But I know what the next three days will consist of, and I don’t think she’s gonna wanna cry her eyes out in your spare bedroom while you and I are in yours,” I say as a matter-of-fact.
His smile widens as he places his forearms on the bar, bending over to place his face level with mine. Those beautiful green eyes sparkle as his muscles strain from leaning over, and my eyes linger on them longer than they should. “That’s a little presumptuous of you.” His eyes travel down my neck and to my chest. They linger on my breasts, and his tongue slowly runs over his lip.
I laugh. “So you weren’t just looking me up and down while you offer up your place?”
His eyes darken as they move back to meet mine. “That shirt has never looked so good,” he whispers seductively.
It smells just like you; clean and spicy like your cologne. “Focus,” I say more to myself than to him.
He sighs as he stands upright. “Okay, so maybe my mind was imagining what your sexy body would look like lying on my bed.” His voice lowers to a growl. “Up against my door in the shower. Bent over my kitchen table …”
My body heats up, and I shift in my chair as I clear my throat. “Be that as it may, we need to stick to the topic.” I clear my throat.
“Right.” He shakes his head to clear it. Then he gets serious. “He’s gone, isn’t he?”
I nod. “I’m not sure if he went back to Seattle or straight to New York, but he seems to be gone for good this time.”
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