by Dee Ellis
Spring Break Heartache Dee Ellis
© 2019 by Dee Ellis. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying without written permission of the publisher or author. The exception would be in the case of brief quotations embodied in the critical articles or reviews and pages where permission is specifically granted by the publisher or author.
Cover Design: Dandelion Cover Designs
Interior Formatting: Dee Ellis for Indies Ink
Publisher: Hummingbird Press
Lana
Noah
Lana
Noah
Lana
Noah
Lana
Noah
Lana
Spring Breakers Short Stories
About the Author
Also by the author
Lana
“Daddy yes. Give me that big cock.” Countless injustices happen right before my eyes.
First and most importantly—the brunette riding the pilot’s cock in the cockpit is my best friend. Scratch that. Was my best friend. Secondly—the big cock she’s riding? My suddenly former fiancé's big cock. And, lastly, it’s not even a big cock.
“You cannot be serious.” I almost laugh. Because the entire thing is almost funny.
My closest friend riding the cock of the man I was set to swear my life to in four days is almost funny. My entire life falling apart just before I thought it was finally coming together should not strike me as almost funny. Clearly, I have a bigger problem than walking in on almost-adultery.
“Lana! Christ! It’s... it’s not what you think.” Now I do laugh. I can hear the wetness of his junk slip out of her. How is it possibly anything but what I think it is?
“No? Oh! I know. Trying to be sure that little solider works before our wedding? How brave of you both.” I twist to storm from the plan, darting around other flight attendants and a few early boarding passengers.
As I stumble down the steps, I wait for the pain. For the tears. For the feeling of betrayal. I make it to the tarmac before I feel anything at all.
What I feel is none of those.
Anger, confusion, even shame is what I feel. Just as I reach the terminal, a hand wraps around my elbow. Twisting, my hand comes out fast, striking Clark in the face. Except it’s not Clark who chased after me. It’s Lois.
“Lana, I never meant for you to see that.” Never meant to get caught—not she never meant for it to happen.
“We were getting married in four days, Lois. You were my maid of honor.” I am shouting now and it feels good. People slow down to watch but I don’t even care.
“It just happened. I thought...I honestly thought you knew but didn’t care. We used to share everything.” I laugh hysterically, clutching my midsection.
“We shared dresses or makeup, Lois. Not my fucking husband. Christ.” Oh and here are the tears. But I’m not sad. I am so angry I want to fuck her face up with my ring.
Instead, I tear it off and fling it at his face. He catches it. Because, he’s fucking Superman. That was always the joke between the three of us. Superman Clark with Lana and Lois as his sidekicks. Jesus I am a fool. Pushing past Lois, he comes close to me and I wait for him to start pleading for forgiveness.
“Please stop making a scene, Lana. I am still going to marry you.” I step away from him, cocking my head at him in confusion.
“Oh, no. For once you got it wrong. Our wedding is off. Why don’t you tell your friends and family why, huh? You two can have one another. Doesn’t Lois end up with Superman anyway?” Swinging a look between the two people I was stupid enough to trust, I turn and walk away.
Four days. We were getting married in four days. Were clearly being the operative word. I was about to marry a man who thought we made sense. No mention of love or passion. No talk about want or need. Hell, he didn’t even say he liked me more than her.
Guess I shouldn’t be surprised, really. Men do it all the time, right? Cold feet, the jitters, whatever you want to call it. Lois has always been the fun one. Can’t be shocked Clark decided to have some fun before settling down.
I was never the fun one. I know that.
I have always lived life within a set of parameters. Goals, really.
Graduate top of my class. Did that.
Get into a flight school. Did not do that.
Female pilots were not a priority it seems. So I rewrote my parameters. I am nothing if not adaptable Instead, I became a flight attendant—not the same but still I got to see the world which had been my goal.
Get engaged and marry the man of my dreams. Almost did that.
Bursting into the first ladies' room I come to inside the airport, I take a moment to compose myself. A few streaks of tears mar my makeup but I don’t look sad. Don’t look like my entire life just came apart in front of my eyes.
Probably because instead of sadness or devastation I feel relief.
Despite the strict parameters I wanted to live my life by, I can’t say I ever felt anything but content with where it’s headed. Not excited or as if I finally get to live some fairytale.
“Not heartbroken, Lana? Course not. Because you two made sense—nothing more or less.” I talk to my mirror reflection about my lack of emotion upon finding my would-be husband fucking my best friend.
Staring at my mirror reflection—my dark hair pinned back in a perfect French twist, my makeup barely disturbed, my ice-blue eyes void of emotion, I know I am not heartbroken. Not about my failed relationship—but about my failed life.
“Flight 105 to Cancun is now boarding at gate 5. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Thank you.”
An announcement booms through the airport and through me.
Cancun. We had argued about our honeymoon destination. I suggested some place tropical and fun—something different than typical Paris or Maldives. Think I wanted some fun in the sun before following my life’s boring parameters.
Our honeymoon. Paid for by my parents as our wedding gift. Marching out of the ladies' room—leaving my embarrassment and shame behind me—I head for a ticketing desk.
“Absolutely we can transfer your flight, Ms. Loren. Where to?” I smile at the bubbly clerk. Our honeymoon just became my Spring Break.
“Cancun. For one, please.”
Noah
It certainly looks like paradise.
For the price I paid for it, it ought to feel like it too.
Not that it doesn’t, I suppose. White sandy beaches, crystal clear waters, sparkling sunshine. Most importantly—an exclusive resort beckoning with colorful cabanas, bustling bars, and swanky suites.
All of this could be yours for the low, low price of seventeen million.
Except it can’t be yours or anyone else's—it just became mine. It’s the second resort in my growing list of properties. A list I have spent the past decade building one purchase at a time.
Coming from nothing made me hungry. While most my peers had rich parents and old money, I fought and hustled for every dime. Until I met a wise old man who taught me how to spot a deal and pounce while the rest of them were busy crunching numbers.
After barely making it through college—on a sports scholarship that I rode until my body gave out—I figured I’d hustle my way through life. Hell, I had the charm, a pretty enough face, and I knew how to read people.
A good dick game also came in handy from time to time.
Cougars with cash love a good dick is all I’m saying.
Until I met Forrester Moss, I figured it was a
good enough life. Forrester was one of the good ones who came from old money. A real estate genius, he knew when to buy, when to invest, and when to sell. And he wanted to teach me everything.
“Why me old man?” I only asked once—I wasn’t stupid enough to turn down his gift.
“Why not you, Noah? Why not you?” Hell, when he said it that way, it had made sense, even to me.
After he died I was shocked to learn he’d left me half of his estate. With one request. Do it better than he had. I took it to mean he wanted me to stop at nothing short of ruling the world.
I became a machine after he was gone. I bought with my gut and sold the same way. I built an empire that few people truly understood. Some of my purchases didn’t exactly make sense. Like this resort in Cancun.
Truth be told—I bought it because I liked it.
Situated on a small atoll a few hundred miles from Cancun, it's quite literally in the middle of nowhere. Takes a ferry to reach the sprawling hotel which spans almost the entire island. Backed up to a forest, several villas are also available to guests. It offers something for everyone—me included.
It took just a few images to sell me. It called to me. From posh suites in the sprawling hotel to the lavish villas it offers every amenity. It’s the perfect place to getaway. Which honestly, is exactly what I need right now. I earned a little fun in the sun.
Hopefully that will include some of the sexy bodies sunning on the white sand beaches.
Speaking of...
Sauntering down the wide deck from guest drop-off—guests reach the atoll by a once-a-week ferry from the main island—is a stunning vision. Her soft pink skirt flutters in the salty breeze and tiny scrap of a top covers curves to die for. She is a knockout.
Raven hair blows in the breeze as she cuts her way through the crowd. Bumping and colliding with people just to smile sweetly and apologize. Hard to miss her even without that body. But, hell, that body.
Wide hips and thick toned thighs peek out from her calf-length skirt. Her feet are bare and I can’t help but smile. A floppy hat covers some of her face but I see enough. Sliding off dark shades she tosses her flowing hair over her shoulders to scan the island.
Once her eyes land on me we both go still.
I can’t move.
Can’t think.
Can’t fucking breathe.
Eyes the same color of the endless ocean behind her sparkle back at me. Sunshine makes her tawny skin glow, showing off plump pink lips, and a freckled face free of make-up. Something behind her eyes is sad. Lost, almost.
Not sure what comes over me but I start to go to her. I want to make her smile and see her eyes light with laughter. I want to see her thick hair spread out in my white sheets and her creamy skin bare beneath me.
As I watch her—I can’t look away—a tiny smile curves her lips. A flash of bright teeth with the hint of a little gap between the front two has me smiling too. Just as I almost reach her, I hear my name called.
“Noah. Waiting for you.” I flinch as my assistant Nanci calls for me.
“Wait longer.” I bark back with a hand wave to dismiss her.
My feet hit the sand separating us as she stands on the docks watching me. As I take huge steps towards her—the distance between us making me absurdly angry—her eyes flare with something fierce. She straightens her back and squares her shoulders. Jealousy? I like that look on you.
“Where are your shoes?” Might be the oddest intro line I have ever used on a woman. But she smiles at me and flushes in the sunlight.
“I lost them in the water. I do things like that. I’m embarrassed.” Looking away, she starts to back away from me. I move with her, unable to let her put distance between us.
“Don’t be. It’s adorable. I kind of want to scoop you up and protect you,” Again with the strange lines, Jesus, Noah, “At least let me see you to the front desk. Be sure you get there in one piece?” Sparkling eyes glance past me at something then come back to me. She nods once and takes my hand so I can help her through the hot sand.
I am a man who follows his gut. Bought an entire island based on my gut.
Looking at this woman trusting me without knowing a thing about me—not even my name—my gut kicks me hard. So does everything else. Doesn’t take me long to make a move on something I want.
And, I want this woman.
“Gisela,” I smile at the front desk clerk, “Please update....” I aim a smile at the beauty beside me, my cock stirring when she cocks her head at me and smirks as she gives her name.
“Lana. Lana Loren.” I don’t even try to hide the way I watch her mouth say her name. I like everything about it. Everything about her.
“Please update Miss Loren’s accommodations. Be sure she gets suite 410 and take good care of her.” I twist back to see Lana watching me curiously. Softness in her stunning eyes.
“Are you in charge here or something?” I smirk and dip closer, breathing in the sweet floral smell of her.
“Sunshine I am in charge everywhere.”
Lana
Damn what a beautiful man.
As he stalks down the hall I can’t look away.
Couldn’t look away once I locked eyes with him out on the beach.
Messy blonde hair, golden tan skin, and bright honey-hazel eyes that sparkle with something dangerous. Tall and lean with a sharp jaw dusted with a day's growth of blonde whiskers, his smile is cocky, effortless...and goddamn gorgeous.
Standing out on the beach in the sunshine with the sea air and the warm breeze, I was mesmerized by him. Thrown off balance. And not because I lost my heels the moment we hit the shores. Once his warm eyes met mine, I felt like I knew him and he knew me.
Shaking off my stupor I see I am checked with a key and a smile waiting from the clerk. As I ride the elevator to the top floor of the hotel, I’m sure the clerk got it wrong. Penthouse suites?
“Holy shit.” I gape as my key opens the door to a massive suite.
It’s not the bright marble floors, colorful throw rugs, thick tufted couches, or lovely art on the walls that gets me. It’s the floor to ceiling windows that make up the far wall. Looking out over the ocean and beaches below, it’s a breathtaking view.
“How gorgeous.” I exclaim as I drop my bag at my feet.
“Took the words right out of my mouth, sunshine.” Heat rushes through me fast and intense as I feel him. Because I feel him before he even speaks. Feel whatever I felt out on the beach as the room floods with it. With his warmth and his presence.
On the beach I felt him before my eyes met his. I looked his way because I felt him. I even started to cross the sand towards him before his girlfriend called his name. And now I feel angry and hurt again, remembering his polished and perfect girlfriend.
“Excuse me,” I twist away from the windows to gather my things, “I do not want this room. It’s not what I booked.” I try not to look at him as I cross towards the door.
“No, you booked a single suite. I want to keep my eye on you, sunshine. Had you moved across the hall from me.” With a few steps he closes the distance between us. I catch my breath as he steps into my space, pressing closer than a stranger should.
He smells of leather and spice and warmth. I step closer despite my brain telling me to keep my distance. Suddenly we’re inches apart and I feel the weight of him press against me. Still I want to press closer. I do, again despite my brain.
“Who are you?” I briefly recall his girlfriend calling his name but right now I can’t remember. Hell, I can barely remember mine.
“Noah. I am your lunch date, sunshine.” I blink at him until he reaches out to cup my jaw with a gentle hand, tugging me closer. I go. I go closer even though I know it’s wrong.
I came here for my own version of a spring break. A break from my failed romance, my failed friendship, my failed life. Came to get over it and let myself have some fun while doing it. I came here for me.
I didn’t come here for a man.
�
��Lunch date? No. Thank you. For earlier, and for the room. Lunch is not necessary. Besides I came here to be alone.” I try to put some power behind my words but they sound uncertain at best.
“I am about to change your plans then. Easier to just go with it, Lana. Come, have lunch with me. I insist.” Before I can refuse again, he moves. His hands move at my jaw, fingertips slipping into my hair, eyes gazing down into mine.
“Noah....” I don’t know why I say his name. Don’t know if I mean to deny him or accept. I also don’t know why his name sounds more like a moan.
“Jesus, Sunshine. Say my name like that again I won’t be feeding you lunch.” Heat explodes between my legs as his fingers tighten on my skin as he tugs me against him.
Noah’s eyes are warm caramel with flecks of chocolate. His warmth makes me feel almost too hot. But I press against his firm chest, both of us breathing hard. I can smell his skin and his shampoo. Feel his minty breath hot against my mouth.
“Stop it.” I manage as I clear my throat and shove away from him.
Every single time he’s close I feel drugged. I lose focus. Or rather my focus centers on just him. Only him. That's dangerous. He is dangerous.
“Oh, Lana. I haven’t even started yet. Let me feed you and you can tell me what brought you here.” I start to refuse again but he’s moving. It’s then I realize I’m moving too; his strong fingers are tangled with mine, tugging me after him.
Foolishly I follow him out into the hall and onto the waiting elevator. I trip over my own feet and realize my feet are still bare. I stumble into the elevator and Noah moves, catching me before I fall. Bringing me against his chest, he chuckles softly as a hand reaches out to the button panel.
“Like you clumsy—long as I’m the one who gets to catch you, sunshine.” I flush both from my clumsiness and his forwardness.
As the doors close behind me, he draws me even closer, leaving no space between us. I should move away. Should shake him off and go about enjoying my spring break alone. Without a beautiful tempting man. Who feels warm and strong and smells delicious?