Torn Series: A Bundle Set 1 - 10

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Torn Series: A Bundle Set 1 - 10 Page 49

by Pamela Ann


  Emma cleared her throat. “Isn’t that house a block away from Carter’s?” she whispered.

  “Yeah, but it’s not like he’s going to live there with us. It’s the perfect spot. We’re close to the strip so we could have access to do more things there. Besides, just think of all those muscular pieces of perfection jogging along the beach while we sip our coffees in the morning. If that doesn’t sound like heaven to you, then you’re a total lesbian.”

  That sounded freaking perfect! “I’d love to enjoy my coffee with a dash of some sweaty, muscled specimens of masculinity to ogle.”

  Emma threw a tiny piece of cheese at me. “You’re hopeless. Fine, fine, fine! Just promise me that if we ever get into arguments, we will all discuss it together. Not like we ever do have major issues, but it can get catty for some girls when they live in the same place. Just no talking shit behind each other’s backs, okay?”

  “Promise.” I raised my glass at the two of them.

  Lindsey did the same. “Yeah, that’s pretty common living with a bunch of girls, but we’re better than that. I trust you all with my life and that’s saying a lot.”

  “Damn straight, Doll. I heart to heart your sentiment because I feel the same.” I raised my glass again and blew them both kisses.

  A slick speedboat took all six of us to shore to enjoy the nightlife Santorini had to offer. First we hit one of the beach bars on Kamari. Golden skin lurked everywhere; drinks flowed constantly, hot women wearing barely anything danced like it was the end of the world and most of all sexy, rich, playboys lurked about.

  Dimitris had explained earlier that this was how summer was in Europe. From Spain, France, and Italy to Greece, parties such as these scattered from the Mediterranean Sea to the Aegean Sea all summer long.

  Dimitris had secured us a VIP spot in one of the clubs before we arrived. When we decided to head towards the club, not one of us was sober. Yep, we were rolling drunk. “Tris! Look! They’ve got poles to stretch those lovely gams of yours!” Lindsey was dancing on her seat as she pointed enthusiastically to the two poles across from us. “Oh, please, God! You and Emma do it, please!”

  Amber, Emma and I had taken pole dance and burlesque classes the previous year, but ended up quitting for no apparent reason. It took me three, two-hour classes to get on that metal pole. Boy, one would think my skinny body could easily climb the metal stick, but heck, I lost count of how many times I slid off that thing. Emma and Amber were pretty good at it, though.

  Emma winked at me. “I’m not that drunk, yet, maybe later.” She laughed at Bass’s expression. The man looked like he was going to go ape-shit, but Emma could handle him. “You got dollar bills, baby?”

  Or not.

  The rest of us hollered at Bass Cole’s ‘what the fuck did you just say?’ look he gave Emma, “You wouldn’t dare! You’re going to get spankings for being naughty.” Although, that didn’t seem to faze her.

  She batted her eyelashes at him and gave him a bright smile. “I might just dare it, Mister Cole.” Emma taunted him while the man simply just smoldered. I bet that kinky imagination of his was working overtime in that handsome head.

  Yeah, sizzle-dizzle, these two had it in spades.

  We suddenly became silent when one of the club managers came over to our table, addressing Bass and Dimitris. “There are twenty girls who want to take pictures and won’t leave until they see me ask. Is that quite possible, Mr. Cole and Mr. Kosta?” The British man pointed at the big line of women who were only blocked by a thick velvet rope. I suppose the Europeans were familiar with Dimitris, but there were a bunch of Americans that were starting to scream Bass’s name when Bass looked toward the line, a line that seemed to be getting longer as the time ticked by.

  “That’s fine. Give us a five minutes.” Both actors agreed to please their fans.

  Lindsey stood up and took two champagne bottles. She then addressed my ex-sex stud. “Taylor, I hope you have enough moves to please three insatiable ladies.”

  Dimitris stood up dramatically and pulled Lindsey close to him, the glow in the dark blue eyes was possessive. “Stay with me, moro mou. I want you close. This will be quick.”

  Lindsey cocked her head at him with a weird expression on her face. “Uh, you want me to take pictures with your fans, too? People might think I’m the celebrity and you’re my butt boy.”

  He gave a hearty laugh before he kissed her. “I do not care about petty things such as that. Ne, moro mou?”

  Lindsey looked bored and rolled her eyes. “See this? Two days and he’s addicted to me already! Fine, okay? I don’t want you to run out of air when I’m not around.” She handed Emma and I the champagne bottles. “Here, you two go and dance the night away.” She patted both of our butts to see us off.

  Bass amorously glanced at Emma. “You can stay too, Em.”

  My friend just gave him a little wave as she stood up. “Bass, I’m not going to dance with another guy except for Taylor. I’m not giving anyone a lap dance and I won’t dry hump anyone. Sit tight, I’m going to be a good girl.”

  The golden boy look exasperated, provoked. “Hell, woman. If you hadn’t worn such a short skirt, I wouldn’t be paranoid. I don’t know why you find it funny to taunt me.”

  Emma giggled and pointed at his discomfited state. “This is why babe. Now, be the charming Hollywood heartthrob that everyone wants to take pictures with. See you later, lovah.”

  We left with Taylor right behind us. We were halfway across the dance floor when a woman grabbed Taylor, and within a second, he was gone.

  Okay, he can go fuck off.

  “You guys are fighting again? I can’t believe you let your monster boss go,” Emma said close to my ear, as the music thumped loudly around us.

  Who cares? “It’s blah. It’s not like he’s the love of my life. It was a good ride, but it’s not that big of a deal. Time to shake it and finish these bottles off. Then we can head over to the dancers, borrow short-shorts then bust some moves on the pole.”

  Emma randomly pulled me towards a pathway packed with people dancing that led to the beach. It was still packed with blue and white cabanas and people partying the night away. The moon was high and torches were everywhere. This spot was definitely rockin’ it.

  Emma grinned at me before she took a long gulp of her champagne. “Love the master plan. Bass will definitely be pissed off. The angrier he gets, the more he will want to prove a point in bed, and I want that all night long.”

  “You’re bad, Emma.” I was grinning from ear to ear though.

  Her eyes lit up with a knowing smile. “I know, right? But damn, he’s made me into this starved woman—sexually, emotionally, mentally. It’s scary, really, but I can’t stop wanting him. It’s been going for two months now, yet each time he touches me, it feels like it’s the first time. I keep thinking, what happens when he’s got his fill of me? He’s got so many options out there, Tris and these women are much more sexually experienced and prettier than me.” The light in her eyes was gone, and she seemed perturbed.

  “You knew the downside of dating him, Em. Don’t let this get to you. Once this movie releases, he’ll be fighting the men off you, too. Give yourself a little credit, Doll. You’re just not a normal, pretty, beach babe. You’re so fucking stunning it makes me want to barf looking at you sometimes.” Emma looked like she didn’t believe me. “Okay, of all of us women, you got Carter on his knees right now, begging for you. Hell, that man would strip naked playing football if you asked him to. Not to mention you’ve got Bass Cole getting all possessive because your skirt is too short. Tell me, aren’t you the luckiest bitch in town or what?”

  She snorted at that, shaking her head. “Carter playing football naked would be awesome.” She cleared her throat and stopped walking. “I dreamt of him last night, Tris. That’s never happened since I started things with Bass. It’s that damn ring. I think it’s making me doubt everything. It’s making me think that what I have with Bass is only temporary.


  Yikes. “Did you ever think of getting back with him after the boathouse? Be honest with me.”

  Emma studied the champagne bottle before she finally managed to speak. “Yeah, I was close to accepting him back, again. I was happy to leave for Greece because it let me off the hook of having to make a decision about getting back with him. Now I realize that I want to be with Bass more than Carter and he starts messing with my head. I just don’t appreciate it when Carter does that. He loves doing it, too.”

  “That’s Carter for you—” I was going to say more but she interrupted me.

  “What made you leave him? I knew if you had your way, you wouldn’t have. I won’t tell Lindsey, but you have to tell me. You have to talk to someone. You’re fake smiles aren’t convincing me anymore, Babe.” The angelic face gave me a serious look.

  Shit, she tricked me. She brought us out here to confront me. Damn it, very sneaky, indeed. “We’re at a club somewhere in Santorini and you want to talk about my problems?” I tried to play it off, but she wasn’t buying it.

  Emma glared at me before she pointed us towards an empty, nautical-striped cabana. “I don’t care if we’re in the Vatican. I would still ask you the same question. Now spill or I will dog you all weekend.”

  “Damn it, Emma. This is not funny,” I whined and tried to look irritated, but her unwavering cool stare didn’t falter. Oh, fuck it. I sighed and closed my eyes, trying to calm my nerves. Emma was going to be the first person I was going to confide in. This was a major deal to me. I knew talking about it would make it more real—it would finally be out there—another person would know my dirty dark secret. “I was pregnant. Harry asked me to terminate it. He—”

  “Oh God! Trista! All this time, you’ve been carrying this burden. Why didn’t you tell me?” Emma was hugging me like she didn’t want to let me go. “I’m so sorry for not being there for you. I feel like a total selfish shithead. I was complaining about my life while yours was much worse than mine.”

  That made me laugh. “Trust me, your love life’s a pretty good distraction.”

  She pulled away and trapped my face with her palms. “Really, though, are you okay?” Her thumbs wiped the small tears that gathered in the corners of my eyes.

  “Yes and no. There are days that are good, but there are those that are really hard to get through. Being here with you all has helped me. Having a friend like you helps, too. I will tell Amber and Lindsey together, I can’t break this to Lindsey right now. I’m not strong enough to broach the subject just yet.”

  A sad smile formed on her lips. “Take all the time you need. Just know that you’re not alone in this, Babe. I’m here to go through this with you.”

  I gave a small nod, trying to smile. “Thank you. Okay, enough. If I don’t get my shit together, I will look like a hot mess. I can’t believe you did this in Santorini, Emma Anderson!”

  “You look good, Tris. Let’s finish our bottles and spin on those poles. It’s been awhile. We might be rusty, but it’ll be a blast.” She tapped her bottle to mine in a silent toast before we finished the damned, thousand Euro, French bubbles.

  Emma worked fast coaxing those short shorts out of the girls. We slipped those teeny looking scraps of Lycra on over our underwear, underneath our skirts. She also had one of the managers, poor besotted bastard, eating out of her palm when she batted her long lashes and those baby blues. She was able to convince him to not only let us dance, but to play our favorite workout song—Creator by Santigold—too. Emma, wired with alcohol in her system, was something else entirely. I loved watching her come out of her usually composed shell.

  “Banana Splits and shits?” Emma asked for our routine. I was surprised that she remembered our nicknames for them. It was one of our practiced routines, the best one we knew.

  Grinning, I nodded at her. “Banana Splits and shits, baby!”

  Banana splits and shits was a combination pirouette (walking sexily around the pole as you bend at the knee), carousel (sexy shit), chair spin (where we spun around whilst sitting), bow and arrow (upside down with both hands up holding onto the pole, a foot hooked around it and the other apart pose) and lastly the banana split (where we both dislodged our legs, up high on the pole, in the air and held on for dear life).

  Thank goodness we were in one piece after the song ended. “We rocked it dude! I thought I was going to die before the banana, but thank God I survived that!” I gave Emma a high-five as we stepped off of the glittered stage.

  “Gosh! We should definitely do more of those when we get back. I forgot how fun that was.” When we got to the table, the only one cheering us was Lindsey. Bass looked like he could commit murder. He was red from it. “Come on, that was fun, wasn’t it?” Emma pinched his cheeks until she got a small smile from him.

  As soon as she was close enough to him, he grabbed her and planted her on his lap. “I admit, you looked extremely enchanting doing it. Still, Emma, you shouldn’t have. The men kept taking videos of you two. You’re so going to pay for that. I think you’ve stolen ten years off my life.”

  I was smiling madly as I looked away from the couple, then my eyes landed on Taylor dancing with a brunette woman. They were practically having sex on the dance floor, but with clothes on. His hands were all over her, cupping her everywhere. Seeing him so into another woman made me feel sick.

  He had made his point earlier this afternoon and I couldn’t help feeling that this was why he didn’t even want to fuck me; he wanted a different woman. Even if he had been purple with pain, I still didn’t think he would have wanted me now. I wasn’t sure if it was my pride, ego or sexuality that was hurt more. Maybe all three since the pain that was crushing me at the moment was so excruciating that it wouldn’t even allow me to think straight. It was a different kind of pain compared to what I had gone through with Harry. Although, pain was pain and I was truly gutted.

  Lindsey pulled me aside, so I didn’t have to keep watching those two pests dance the night away. “Em and Bass are leaving to go back to the yacht. Why don’t you go, hmm? You look tired, anyway.”

  She was right. Today’s events were rather too much. Watching Taylor hook up with another woman was the last thing I needed, even though he and I weren’t anything to each other. He could do as he pleased and fuck as he pleased. I just didn’t have to watch it go down. “Yeah, that would be a wise idea.” I finally conceded to Lindsey’s suggestion.

  “He’s just being retarded, Tris. He’ll come to his senses.” Lindsey tried to reassure me, but failed miserably.

  “It’s no big deal. It was sex, nothing more.” I was in love with Harry. Everyone knew that. Then, why did I feel hollow saying that now?

  Chapter 19

  Taylor

  I watched Trista and Emma get on the pole, but my eyes were stuck on the woman who drove me mad, with lust and affection. My hardened cock lurched at the scene before me as Trista’s body easily melded with the pole, making love to it. I was sure the entire club was enthralled at the beautiful display of womanly art. A quick glance at Bass confirmed my suspicions that he was having the same feelings as mine. It was a sight to see, yes, but I did not appreciate the male audience roving their eyes over her body. The show was sexy and it made me want to think about the ways I wanted to take her tonight. Pole dancing, it seemed, was a touch away from pornography. No matter what the entire population said, it was—without a doubt—sexual, sensual and a blatant, taunting display of sex. A man was bound to think of tits and pussies as they rubbed their bodies against that cold steely pole.

  Trista was doing a fine job at it; I had to hand it to her. Even though she and I weren’t talking much tonight, she truly had captured my thoughts and wayward imagination. She was a contradiction of feistiness, beauty, and confidence with a touch of vulnerability; a woman who wore her masks well. That tortured soul inside was held at bay when people were around, but when left alone, her demons hounded her.

  At times I wondered if Harry cheated on her. I r
emembered eavesdropping at their conversation, hearing the vile accusations she had thrown at him. This led me to that very conclusion. There was no other reason I could come up with except that. What else could there be?

  As she stood to follow Bass and Emma out of the club, my guts were telling me to run after her, I stayed put and tried to enjoy Libby’s company, though. She was more my type. Like my ex, Megan, she was brunette, tall, composed and beautiful. Tonight, however, I found any woman’s presence lacking. Well, apart from one that is.

  The one who was too outspoken for my taste. The one who messed with my head in whichever way she could. The very woman who liked to push my buttons until I was seething with white-hot anger and rage. An anger that was matched with a simmering fire, making my cock hard with only a glance. Not to mention the fact that she was hopelessly and passionately in love with that bastard named Harry. All of that combined to make her the woman I should stay away from.

  I was brought out of my frustrating thoughts of the hellcat when I felt Libby’s hand stroke my upper thigh, slightly brushing my cock while she was at it. “Do you want to drink some more or do you want to head out? We can do it however and do whatever you like,” Libby purred seductively in my ear.

  Since Trista had come to me this afternoon, I’d been sporting a hard-on. It would do me a world of good if I could get rid of it. I was tempted to fuck the living shit out of Libby, but there was only one woman that I wanted to scream my name while she was beautifully coming apart in my arms. Did that hellcat really go back to the yacht? Maybe to fuck that man who was touching her body out on the deck earlier? Or was she partying with someone else?

  I wouldn’t put it past her. She had needed much more than a quick release when she had entered my room. She had wanted it hard and rough, but I’d held myself back. It was my way of punishing her. Now that I’d thought about it, she was more than capable of choosing another man to satisfy her needs, since I didn’t even manage to satiate that hunger of hers, but thinking of her with another man drove me a little crazy. Trista was a responsive woman. She was a beautiful, passionate woman with a body that would tempt a monk. Push her over the edge and a man would truly see the beauty of what she could be and then snatch her up.

 

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