Beautiful Mistakes: Contemporary Romance Boxset Books 1-4

by Victoria Snow

  I opened my eyes and looked around the room. I didn't recognize anything around me. There were red silk sheets on the bed, and a floor-to-ceiling mirror on the wall across from me. A TV hung on the wall to the right, with a couple of armchairs in front of it. Off to one side was a mini fridge, sitting next to a short desk.

  I realized this must have been a hotel room. That made sense, once I thought about it. After closing the big software contract, a deal that had made the company I worked for millions, my boss had taken the entire office down to Las Vegas for a weekend of all-expense-paid celebration. That had included an open tab on the boss's dime, which had led to the overindulgence that had put me into the situation I was now in.

  But this definitely wasn't the same hotel room I'd been booked into yesterday. My boss had been generous by paying for all of us to come down here for this trip, but he had still gotten us rooms that were somewhat on the cheaper side. Not like the lavish room I had woken up in.

  I looked over at the man next to me. He was broad and muscular, with curly black hair on his bare chest. The red silk sheet was draped lightly across his waist. When I'd pulled away, he had rolled onto his back. His hard-on was now poking up from under the sheet, pitching a tent made of red fabric.

  Curious, and figuring I'd probably already done worse last night, I lifted the sheet to take a peek at it. I'd seen dicks in porn before, but never in person. It was thicker than I'd expected, with a large head that was swollen from the man's erection. I was tempted to touch it, but considering I still didn't know who I was in bed with, that seemed wrong. That didn't stop me from staring at it for a good long while, though. When I started to feel guilty about peeking, I lowered the sheet, giving the stranger a bit of his modesty back.

  The man's arm was slung over his face, covering his eyes from the light streaming in past the thick red curtains. Only the lower part of his face was visible; his chin was covered in a thick black beard, with light streaks of gray.

  My breath caught in my throat. I nudged his arm, trying to get a better look at his face.

  He moaned softly in his sleep. I lightly ran my fingers along his arm, and he reflexively moved, pushing away the tickling touch. With his arm out of the way, I saw his face.

  It wasn't a random stranger.

  It was far, far worse.

  It was Mr. O'Rourke. My boss.

  I started to panic, gasping for air. I was in bed with my boss. I tried to imagine a worse person to wind up having a drunken one night stand with. I couldn’t think of one. Even my creepy alcoholic neighbor who was always hitting on me would have been a better option. At least he wouldn’t be able to fire me.

  I laid still, trying to slow my breaths. As far as I could tell, he was still asleep. Maybe, I thought, I could slip out of the bed, get dressed, and be out the door before he realized what was happening. He might not remember who he had gone to bed with last night. Or he might be grateful that I had just left, sparing him from having to kick me out.

  On the other hand...I lifted the sheet again, staring at his hard cock. I couldn’t remember what we’d done last night, and that felt unfair. My first time was supposed to be something special, not something forgotten in a drunken haze. If I was going to lose my virginity to a man, I at least wanted to remember it. Every girl deserved a memorable moment for her first time. I'd fantasized since I was a teenager about what it would be like. Maybe the real experience wasn't living up to my expectations, but I at least deserved more than something forgotten in a drunken haze.

  Maybe I was still in shock. Maybe I was feeling rebellious. Maybe I was even still a little drunk from last night. Whatever the case, I felt an urge building up inside of me. The more I stared at Mr. O’Rourke’s cock, the more I wanted to know what it felt like. What it tasted like. I'd never had a cock in my mouth before. I wondered if that had been part of the forgotten experience from last night, or if we'd just fucked.

  There was only one way to resolve that question.

  I shifted down on the bed, slipping under the sheets. It was hot under the sheets, but at least this way I was hiding my face. I positioned myself between Mr. O’Rourke’s legs, staring at his cock. I reached out hesitantly, touching it with just the tips of my fingers. The head was soft, but when I wrapped my fingers completely around it, I could feel how hard it was. Mr. O’Rourke groaned softly in his sleep, his cock twitching in my hand.

  I took a deep breath. I’d never done anything like this before. Never even been kissed. Not unless you counted a boy in junior high giving me a quick, nervous peck on the lips. I’d never wanted to be a virgin until I was 23. I’d just been a nerd in high school, and too busy studying in college to get a chance to date anyone. And while this wasn’t how I’d imagined it happening, now that I was here, I decided to take the situation firmly in hand, no pun intended.

  I started stroking Mr. O’Rourke’s cock up and down, feeling his hardness slide between my fingers. I bit my lip, watching his muscles tense up, and marveling at how his balls seemed to tighten up in response to my touch. Giggling, I cupped them in my other hand, massaging them gently. My boss shifted in his sleep, spreading his legs for me. I wondered if he was dreaming right now. I wondered who he dreamed was doing this to him. Surely not the nerdy girl from the Social Media Department.

  A little bead of precum formed on the tip of his cock. Curious, I darted my tongue out to taste it. It was salty, but a bit sweet. I wanted more.

  I ran my tongue around the head of his cock, still working the shaft with my hand. I let out a soft whimper, closing my eyes. It felt so nice, being with a man, feeling his heat and his hardness. I needed more. So much more.

  I closed my lips around it, slowly lowering my head. Mr. O’Rourke gasped. He shifted in the bed, sitting up. The sheet was still covering me, blocking me from his view.

  I froze for a moment, not sure if he’d want me to continue. Then I felt his hand on my head, pushing me down. I gagged, caught off guard as more of his cock was shoved between my lips, filling my entire mouth. I tried to pull back, but he pressed down harder, forcing me to take it all. I held my breath, my eyes closed tight, and tried not to choke as my boss forced my head up and down over and over again. He groaned out loud, using both hands to hold me in place. His hips thrust up, getting his cock in so deep that I squealed around my mouthful.

  I finally pulled away, unable to take any more. I sat up, the sheet falling off of me to reveal my naked body, glistening with sweat. My red hair fell down around my shoulders. I looked at Mr. O’Rourke with wide eyes, trembling.

  His dark eyes focused on mine. His jaw dropped open.

  After a moment’s hesitation, he asked, “Jillian?”

  I nodded meekly, surprised he even knew my name.

  I expected him to get mad. To yell, to throw me out of the room. To call me a slut and accuse me of trying to sleep with him for a promotion. He was a rich man, after all. He ran a company that was worth millions. Surely he wouldn't want anything to do with little old me.

  I expected the worst.

  Instead, his eyes still filled with lust, he grabbed me and threw me down onto the bed. He climbed on top of me, pushing my legs apart. His cock was aimed right between my legs, brushing up against my virgin pussy.

  If we hadn’t actually done it last night, that didn’t matter now. I looked up at my boss, scared but eager, my eyes wide and watery. I gasped when he pressed his cock against my opening, guiding it with his hand as he rocked his hips back and forth. My virgin pussy was tight, and I tensed up, but he eased it in, then once it was inside he shoved it in deep.

  I laid there helpless, feeling violated in the best possible way. Mr. O’Rourke was so big and powerful above me, holding me by my thighs, ramming his cock into me again and again. I held onto the sheets in tight fists, little squeals escaping me each time he slammed his cock inside of me. It hurt in a glorious, wonderful way, and I knew I couldn’t have stopped him now, even if I wanted to.

  I looked down between
my legs, wanting to see it as my boss violated me. He reached up, grabbing a fistful of my hair. He pulled on it, craning my head down and forcing me to watch as he fucked me. His grunts grew more strained, and I felt something building up. I was scared, but I didn’t want him to stop.

  He let out a loud groan, his movements turning erratic as he lost control. I screamed in pain and delight, feeling him spasm inside of me. He collapsed on top of me, clinging to me, driving his cock in as deep as it would go as he came inside of me. I clung to his shoulders, gasping, wrapping my legs around him. I wanted it all inside of me. I needed it more than I’d ever needed anything in my life.

  Mr. O’Rourke grew still, panting. He laid still on top of me for a minute, then rolled over. His muscled body glistened with sweat. The hotel room was steamy, the sheets tangled and damp. I closed my eyes, trying to catch my breath, trying to wrap my mind around what had just happened.

  After a few minutes, the bed shifted. I looked over to see Mr. O’Rourke getting up. He headed for the bathroom, shutting the door. A minute later, I heard the shower turn on.

  I sat up in the bed, looking around. I found my clothes scattered about, my panties laying by the nightstand, my bra tossed over the back of a chair, and my dress in a rumpled heap on the floor. I gathered my things and started getting dressed, my shame bringing a quickness to my steps. Getting fucked like that had been wonderful, but now the guilt was setting in. I didn’t know if Mr. O’Rourke wanted me to be here when he finished his shower. I decided that I’d rather not be.

  I got dressed as quickly as I could. I found my purse and pulled my brush out, giving my long red hair a quick once-over so it wouldn’t be a tangled mess. I didn’t want anyone to see me and be able to tell that I’d just been fucked.

  I paused for a moment, letting that thought sink in. I'd just been fucked. A smile touched my lips. It had been a wonderful, glorious experience. Not the circumstances I would have hoped for, but it had been amazing nonetheless.

  I ran my hands through my hair, patting it down to make sure it was neat enough. A few of my rings caught in my hair. I pulled them free, then plucked a couple of strands of red hair from the rings. I was wearing my Claddagh ring, a sign of my Irish heritage, something every woman in my family wore. And my serpent-shaped ring, a replica of the jewelry worn by women in one of my favorite books. I usually told people I just liked snakes, knowing they wouldn’t get the reference if I told them it was something from a fantasy novel.

  There was another ring I hadn’t noticed at first. A simple gold band with four diamonds set into it. I’d never seen it before.

  My jaw dropped when I realized what it was. It was on the third finger of my left hand. And here we were, in Vegas. Somehow I knew that, this time, what had happened in Vegas wouldn’t just stay in Vegas.

  Not when I was wearing a wedding ring.

  2

  Jack

  I let the hot water run over me, closing my eyes and catching my breath. I was still in shock. I had vague memories of last night, of one too many drinks at the celebratory outing I’d taken my people on, and of a warm, soft body pressed against mine later in the night. I sure as hell hadn’t expected it to be, Jillian, though.

  I scrubbed the water into my face, thinking the situation through. When I’d woken up to find her sucking my cock, I’d been swept up in the moment. What guy could resist a hot, naked redhead with his cock in her mouth? Especially when she was fresh out of college. I’d have been a fool to tell her no.

  But now that I was no longer thinking with my hard on, guilt started setting in. The poor girl probably felt like I’d taken advantage of her. She would no doubt be scared about losing her job over this. I had to let her know that wouldn’t happen. Discretion would be the best approach. I’d just have to tell her that this would be kept between us, and that we would need to go back to the office on Monday and pretend that it had never happened. Things would be awkward, sure. But we didn’t work together directly all that often. Jillian was my Junior Social Media Coordinator, a job that mostly involved her writing up small press releases about our latest software, and distributing them on Facebook, Twitter, and the company’s blog. When I had an announcement to share, such as the announcement of our new contract with Empire Labs, Inc. to develop their new customer service app, I usually just sent an email to the Senior Social Media Coordinator. She then passed the assignment down to someone in her department. That meant that Jillian and I almost never spoke directly. I had greeted her when she was first hired a few months ago, and said hi to her a few times when we passed in the office, but that was about it.

  I finished scrubbing myself down, then turned off the shower. I got out and grabbed a towel, rehearsing in my head what I would say to Jillian. I’d been in awkward situations before--never with an employee, but still--and I was sure that I could manage the situation with professional grace.

  I wrapped a towel around my waist. No sense in letting the boys hang out during what was sure to be an awkward conversation. I stepped out into the other room.

  “Listen, Jillian. We should--”

  I looked around. The hotel room was empty. Jillian was gone.

  I sighed, scrubbing a hand over my face. I shouldn’t have been surprised. She was probably embarrassed. I couldn’t blame her for running off while she had the chance.

  I gathered my clothes. I didn’t recognize the room, but it was certainly fancy. I wasn’t worried about the cost, considering we had just closed a big deal with Empire Labs. I’d have to take a cab back to the room I’d originally booked for the weekend, at the hotel where the people from my office were staying, on the company’s dime. My luggage and a fresh change of clothes would be waiting for me there.

  On the nightstand, I found a little bowl where I’d apparently deposited my things last night. The room key was in there, along with my wallet. I must have had enough soberness left in me to go through my usual nightly routine last night, before things with Jillian had gotten too wild. I found my class ring from college in the bottle of the bowl. I put it on, then noticed another ring sitting in the bowl. A wedding ring.

  I held it up, turning it in my fingers and studying it. It was a man’s ring. It couldn’t have been Jillian’s.

  I put it on, just to see. It was sized for my finger.

  A tight knot twisted in my stomach.

  I searched the room for more evidence of last night’s activities. Under a discarded pillow I found a red folder, covered in hearts. I opened it and looked inside.

  The folder contained a marriage certificate. I recognized my own signature at the bottom, though in my drunkenness, the handwriting had been very sloppy. There were some other papers as well, along with some coupons for some local clubs advertising a “Honeymoon Package.” There was also a pamphlet with instructions on how to download wedding photos online.

  Knowing what I’d likely see, but having to see it for myself, I pulled out my phone and went to the webpage listed on the pamphlet. After punching in the code on the pamphlet, I was able to pull up a set of digital photographs from the wedding chapel.

  There I was, alongside Jillian, both of us grinning in a way people could only do when they were shit-faced drunk. She was clinging to my arm, a bouquet of flowers dangling from her hand. We were leaning against each other as if we were both on the verge of falling to the ground. We looked ridiculous, though at least in the moment, we also seemed happy.

  There were about two dozen shots. Us stumbling down the aisle. Our first kiss in front of an altar covered in white and red lace and glitter-covered streamers. Shaking hands with the employees of the cheap little chapel, strangers who had no doubt witnessed hundreds of other couples making fools of themselves like this.

  I spun the ring between my fingers. This...complicated things. It was bad enough to find out I'd gotten so drunk that I'd gone to bed with an employee. That alone could get me sued for sexual harassment, not to mention how much it could hurt poor Jillian to think that I'd taken
advantage of her. I was many things, but I had never been the sort of man to harm a woman in any way.

  But being married to her...I wasn't entirely clear on how the law would look at a Las Vegas wedding, but under most circumstances, a woman divorcing her husband was entitled to a fair share of his wealth and property. And I was worth millions.

  I tucked the papers back into the folder. I headed for the door, needing to find Jillian as quickly as possible.

  I checked with the front desk first. The young lady behind the counter hadn't seen a pretty little redhead. She offered to let me use the hotel courtesy phone, but I declined. I checked out, paid the bill, then took a cab across town to the smaller and less lavish hotel where I'd set up my employees for the weekend.

  We had rented out a whole floor of the hotel, but I didn't know which room Jillian was in. I thought about calling her first, but I didn't have the personal phone numbers of my staff programmed into my cell phone. I'd need to get back to the office to look up her personnel file, and that wasn't very practical right now. I decided to try the front desk instead.

  An older woman stood behind the desk at this hotel, wearing a tired smile. I ran a hand through my hair as I approached, wanting to make sure I didn't look like a bum. It was bad enough that I was still wearing yesterday's wrinkled clothes, especially since they smelled like I'd spilled some scotch on them. I just hoped it hadn't been expensive scotch. That would have been a real sin.

  “Good morning, sir,” she said as I approached. “How may I help you?”

  “Jack O'Rourke,” I said. “I rented out the third floor for my staff. I need to page one of them, but I'm not sure which room she's in.”

  “Of course, sir,” she said. She punched a few keys on her computer. “Their name, please?”

  “Jillian,” I said.

  She nodded, then waited. When I didn't say anything else, she asked, “Last name, sir?”