The Misters Series (Mister #1-7)

by J. A. Huss

  Is she insulting me? I can’t tell. “I wrote a self-help book once.”

  “I’m not surprised. Was it called How to Make a Woman Defenseless?”

  I narrow my eyes. “Are you implying something?”

  Ivy shrugs. “Just curious.”

  “It’s called Rising Above. Maybe you don’t know this, but Maclean Callister has done some pretty significant things since our days at Brown. He inspired me”—I eye her, gauge her reaction—“to rise above the bullshit. And so I wrote that book.”

  “Did you publish it?”

  “No. The title is ironic. And my lawyers thought it would ruin my chances of building up the resort and garnering investors.”

  “So it’s not about rising above?”

  “No.”

  She waits for me to continue, but I don’t. Fuck it. If she wants to be nasty, I can play.

  “It’s about taking the low road?”

  “Maybe.”

  “And that’s why you’re the most infamous of them all?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know what to think.”

  “You sure knew what to think a moment ago.”

  “I guess that was before I saw something real.”

  I lean even farther back in my chair, studying her. She really looks the college-prep boarding school part. I know. I’ve seen enough of those girls. Hell, I was part of that world myself. But I’m not now.

  Ivy Rockwell looks like she never left that world. She looks as protected, and secluded, and every bit as innocent as I imagined, regardless of her proclamation a few minutes ago.

  “I told you, this is the real me. All of it. So don’t fool yourself, Ivy. You were right about me.”

  “So why admit it before you get what you want?”

  I shrug. “Maybe I’ve already lost interest in you.”

  “Why? Not that I’m interested in you. But why? It’s like one second you’re into it, and then…” She realizes. She knows. She’s got me. “You’re still sensitive about it, aren’t you? Behind that facade of bravado, you’re still pissed off.”

  “Wouldn’t you be? If you were accused of something you didn’t do?”

  “I think I probably would’ve handled it differently. Gotten better advice.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, you guys all lawyered up. Refused to talk. That’s what they said anyway.”

  “Is that what they said? I really wouldn’t know. I didn’t watch TV for five years after the charges were filed. You don’t know what it’s like. You have no idea what it’s like.”

  “But if you’re innocent—”

  “Then I have nothing to hide? Do you really believe that? Doesn’t everyone have something to hide? Well”—I laugh, shake off the anger—“it would’ve been very stupid to talk. That was the best advice I ever got. Just shut the fuck up, Match said. We were all there, fucking bewildered. No idea what was happening. No idea we’d be arrested within a week. No idea that every asshole in the country would have an opinion about our personalities, our pasts, our habits. Our guilt.”

  “The Misters.”

  “Right,” I say. “Do you know why they call me Mr. Romantic?”

  “Claudette said it was ironic. Like your book title.”

  “That’s not why. I—” But I shut the fuck up. I hear Match in my head. Just shut the fuck up until my friend gets here. He’ll know what to do. And so we did shut the fuck up. We didn’t even tell each other what happened that night. No one knew what I was doing. I don’t know what they were doing. None of us had alibis, because that stupid bitch was our alibi. Every single one of us.

  “She set us up, Ivy. Set us up. Someone was pulling her strings, but we never figured out who. There’s enough enemies to go around, I guess. But I didn’t do anything wrong that night. Not one goddamned thing.”

  She looks down at her plate and lets out a long breath. “Sorry for mentioning it.”

  Sorry. She’s one of those girls. Sorry. The confrontation makes her uncomfortable. Well, I’m not an apologizer. And I love confrontation. “Don’t be sorry for me. It’s a waste of time.”

  “I’m not hungry,” she says, pushing away from the table. “I’m going to bed. If you want to hire me tomorrow, well, fine. I’ll talk about it. But I’m done talking tonight.”

  I stand up and put my napkin on my plate, our food hardly touched. “Hey,” I say, taking her hand and placing it on my arm, the way I did when I walked her over here. “I’ll walk you back. And I’ll still fuck you tonight, Ivy. Still give you the option to suck my cock. Because once I pay you for your time, it will never happen again.”

  She slaps me in the face and walks out.

  Chapter Fourteen - Ivy

  My heart is beating so fast, I feel like I might pass out. I push my way throughout the maze of tables, trying to get out of there before it happens, trying to get fresh air before I suffocate from the conversation I just had with a very fucked-up man.

  But Nolan grabs my arm, jerking me to a stop. “What was that for? Why the fuck did you hit me?”

  I jerk my arm away and place my hand over my eyes, swaying slightly. I’m going to faint. I hear the words in my head, and that shakes some sense into me.

  I am not going to faint.

  “I’m sorry. The heat. I’m not used to it. I feel dizzy, I want to go lie down.” I jerk away from him and walk out of the restaurant, straight through the back doors, and out into the pool area. I want to jump in so bad, but my feet keep walking. Right around it, towards the private bungalows. When I look over my shoulder as I enter the narrow walkway surrounded on all sides with palm trees, Nolan is following.

  I look forward again, urging my feet to go faster. But the water in the private pool looks too good to just pass by. The sun is just setting, the light is dim, but not dark. And I know if I hang out just a few more minutes, it will completely slip away and leave me alone.

  How do people live out here in this heat?

  It’s not the heat, Ivy. It’s him you need to get away from.

  I reach my bungalow, open the door, and practically throw myself across the threshold. Inhaling the cool AC and dropping into a chair.

  “Ivy?” Nolan knocks on the door. “What the fuck is happening?”

  “I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

  He goes away. I know it. I don’t need to get up and look. I just sit there in the chair and breathe deeply.

  Why did I slap him?

  Because he said he wanted to fuck me?

  Wasn’t that why I came here?

  And he’s offering me a job tomorrow.

  Wasn’t that what I really wanted? Both the job and the sex?

  It was. But not anymore. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know anything. I don’t understand this man, I don’t trust him, and I don’t think I should say anything else to him. At all.

  By the time I calm down the room is dark. I make out shadows of furniture. A love seat, the bedroom door, the little kitchenette.

  The bag on the other chair that holds the bathing suit I bought today.

  You didn’t buy it, Ivy.

  I get up and grab the bag, taking the suit out of the tissue paper it’s wrapped in, and hold it up.

  I hear a splash from outside and walk over to the window.

  Nolan is swimming. It figures. I was just thinking I’d like to go for a swim and he’s already out there.

  Wait. Why am I turning back into that timid girl I left behind in Rhode Island? Didn’t I come her to say yes to everything I’d normally decline? Didn’t I come her to say no to everything I’d normally accept?

  Then why the hell am I letting him control me?

  I slip my sundress off and rip the tags from the suit with my teeth and step into it. I wriggle the top part up to cover my breasts and adjust the starburst pattern of straps that point a path directly between my legs.

  Screw him. I’m going to let his filthy mouth control me? Unsettle me and mak
e me run away like a child?

  No.

  But… That timid voice is insistent. But I don’t even know what I’m doing. He’s going to know and if he finds out I’m a virgin, he’ll stop. I just know it. Even though Claudette called him dangerous, I know he will stop.

  If I go out there and commit to losing my virginity to Nolan Delaney, then I can’t let him be the reason it doesn’t happen. I will be humiliated if he figures out I’m a virgin and refuses to participate in my little plan.

  Google.

  Yeah. That’s what the internet is for, right? I can Google it. I can look up what it’s like to lose your virginity and then get ready. Prepare myself.

  Oh, God, what if he really does want a blow job? I don’t think I could fake that. I’ve seen it done, sure. But I’ve never, like… practiced.

  I grab my phone, desperate for some advice, and type in, What does it feel like to lose your virginity?

  I scan the results, pick the second entry, which is people telling their losing it story in a forum.

  Hurts.

  Feels like your vag is stretching.

  Amazing.

  Hurts.

  Hurts.

  Hurts.

  There is only one story that says amazing, so I go with that one. If I’m going to do it, I want it to be amazing. I didn’t save myself up all these years to let my first time be a disappointment.

  My boyfriend has the biggest cock. I’ve seen a lot of them watching porn, so I was scared. But he was careful with me. And let me be on top. It made all the difference. I eased down at my own pace, and instead of letting him fill me, I pretended like I was covering him. I rocked my hips a little when he was inside me and that just stimulated my clit like crazy. Before I knew it, the pain was over and I was enjoying myself. I even came. I know people will say I’m lying, but he was playing with my clit the whole time. And it just felt so good.

  OK. I’m feeling a little better about this. Better not ruin it with any more stories. I go back to Google and type in, How to give a blow job.

  I get a how-to video from a porn star this time. I need visuals and I need a professional. She qualifies. I watch the girl wrap her lips around the guy’s dick, her tongue flicking in and out. And then she explains the hand movements. Her palms twist as she sucks, bobbing up and down his shaft as she licks and tries to take him deep. The guy moans, so she is definitely doing it right.

  I make a mental list. Suck the tip, lick it, pump my hand, twist them a little, take him deep, and then…

  Ewww. She lets him come in her mouth. And when she’s done, she says that’s mandatory.

  I don’t know about that. I don’t think I can. I’ve seen videos where they come on the girl’s face. In fact, most of the time they do that.

  But in a porno, the girls always lick it, which is disgusting.

  I’m not going to do either of those. I’m going to let him unload in a condom.

  That makes me laugh, which makes me brave.

  You can do this, Ivy. He’s going to make it amazing, I just know it.

  I tear the hair tie out of my ponytail and shake my long blonde hair out a little. And then I step outside.

  Nolan is looking directly at me, arms stretched out along the blue-tiled rim of the pool, treading water in the deep end. “Well,” he says, “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

  “Why not? Think you scare me?”

  “Yes.”

  I lift my head up, defiant. “Well, you don’t.”

  “Maybe you should reconsider.”

  I step into the pool and walk down the steps until the water is deep enough for me to sink into.

  “I like the suit. It’s a good choice.”

  I sigh, because I was brought up to be polite. And this was basically a gift. “Thank you. I do too. I can pay you for it—”

  “I don’t need your money.”

  “Whatever.”

  “You want to explain what set you off back there?”

  OK, here goes nothing. Be Opposite Ivy. “I don’t like being talked to that way.”

  “No?” he says back with a smile. “Why not?”

  “It’s rude, for one.”

  “It’s hot.”

  “To you maybe. I’m not—”

  But I stop short. Opposite Ivy wouldn’t say that, would she? Opposite Ivy would like it.

  “Just admit it, it’s hot. I get it, you’re not used to it. But that doesn’t mean you have to close yourself off to it.”

  I don’t know what to say. I’m not really Opposite Ivy. I wish Nora was here. She’d know what to say to a guy like Nolan Delaney. She’d have quick, witty comebacks all ready to go. She’d stand toe to toe with him and come out winning.

  Nolan pushes off the wall of the pool and comes swimming towards me. Slowly. One leisurely stroke at a time. “You’re not what, Ivy? Hot? Desirable? Ready for something… new and different?”

  I am ready for something new and different. Even though he scares me. I am ready. I swim forward, doing a side stroke into the middle of the pool, and meet him halfway.

  “What happened back there?”

  “Nothing happened. I was mad. That’s all.”

  “Because I said I wanted to fuck you? Put my cock in your mouth? Are you really that timid?”

  “I’m not used to it.”

  He moves closer, his arms wrapping around my waist, and my hands automatically go to his shoulders to keep afloat.

  “That’s a step forward.”

  “Look—”

  “No, you look. Don’t be so uptight. Just relax, for fuck’s sake. Enjoy it. It’s a hot summer night, we’re in the middle of the desert, at a huge resort that has a total of thirteen guests including you. We’re in a secluded pool, total privacy.”

  Oh, my God. I think he wants to fuck me in the pool. This is going way too fast for me.

  “Your heart is beating so fast. Do I scare you that much? Do you really think I’m a rapist?”

  “That’s not what—” But I stop again. Because he’s going to ask me what I’m really worried about if I continue.

  “Then what?”

  “I mean, yes, of course. You have a very bad reputation, Nolan. It’s something I can’t forget about.”

  He looks me in the eyes for a few seconds. “You only see what they want you to see. A bad guy. A player. And yeah, I’ve had my share of fun and most of it has been with women. But I’m not that guy in the news. I’m just Mr. Romantic.”

  I make a noise that might be a laugh if I wasn’t so nervous. “I’m not sure that’s any better than Nolan Delaney.”

  “It is,” he says. His hands slide over my hips in a very provocative gesture. One even slips over the curve of my ass cheek, his fingers lifting the bathing suit up a few inches. “Trust me, it is.”

  I stare at his eyes, the green shimmering with the light reflecting off the water. “You said it was ironic. Like your book.”

  “It was meant to be. But if you ever get to know the real me, you’ll see what I mean. I’m not all irony, Ivy. I have a very serious, straight side too.”

  “Show me,” I say, surprised by my bravado.

  He leans in and kisses me. His hand leaves my hip and grabs the back of my neck, preventing me from pulling away.

  I don’t pull away, so it’s a wasted gesture. And as soon as he understands that, he fists it and pushes me closer. I wrap my legs around his waist and feel his hard cock rubbing the sensitive skin near my ass.

  I could go all the way tonight. Let him tease me into the adult world of sex, and dirty talk, and midnight fucks in a swimming pool. I could let him just… be him. And tomorrow this will be over. I’ll just be Ivy again, minus one intact cherry. And we’ll talk business.

  I could do this and go home feeling new and ready for whatever comes. A new man, a new job, a new life.

  “Have you ever done it in a pool, Ivy?” he says into my mouth.

  I shake my head no.

  “Well.” He reaches one
arm out, pulling us through the water towards the shallow end. And when his feet touch the floor, he walks forward. My arms are still holding onto his perfect shoulders, my legs still circling his muscled waist. “It’s not as fun as it sounds.” He carries me up the steps of the pool and walks over to his bungalow. “So we’re going to take this inside.”

  Chapter Fifteen - Nolan

  She clings to me. And even though that little display back in the restaurant should be nothing but warning bells going off in my head, I ignore them. Something is wrong, but I’m not sure it’s about me. So I’m going to ignore it.

  Her heart is beating so fast against my chest, I almost ask her what the fuck. But I figure it’s just a little residual fear over what Claudette told her. I’m dangerous.

  I’m mad about that, and I will be confronting Claudette about it later.

  But not now. She’s hundreds of miles away. Right now the only thing I want to do is fuck this girl. I get it, she’s inexperienced. Probably only ever fucked one guy. I like that, to be honest. I like her inexperience.

  “Don’t be nervous,” I say in her ear when we step into my bedroom. I set her down and say, “It’s fine. I’m good, I swear.”

  “I don’t doubt it. But I’m—” She stops short.

  “You’re what?”

  “I’m not that good.”

  “It’s OK. I’ll be patient. I’ll tell you what I like and if you tell me what you like, it will be a lot of fun. Don’t you want to have fun, Ivy? Say screw tomorrow and have some fun?”

  “Yeah.” She sighs. “I want to think I do, anyway.”

  “OK,” I say, dragging the strap of her bathing suit down her shoulder. “Did you buy this to drive me crazy? Because it’s sexy as fuck.”

  “No.” But then she stops and reconsiders. I know because she blushes. Even though there is only one small light on in my room, I can see the redness of her cheeks. “Maybe a little.”

  “So you were thinking about me? About how I wanted to fuck you.”