Authors: Pamela Ann
Fucker!
Hell no!
My blood boiled like hot magma. I simply glared at him before cutting his sexual prowess to a halt. “Over my dead body, Taylor. Keep dreaming
, though, pretty boy. I just hope your imagination can handle the heat.”
Something flickered in his eyes, something dark and unattainable. I was unprepared when he strode towards where I stood, all cocky and confident.
The moss-green depths of his eyes pinned me down. The amount of heat that channeled from those beautiful orbs burned me up, all the way to my toes causing my body to react acutely. I could feel it as my nipples tightened, my muscles clenched intimately, and a flush spread across my body at the potent intensity of it. Those eyes alone pierced me, drawing me in. The feelings had begun to overwhelm me, suspending my brain from thinking. All I could see was
him,
bewitching me with his spell. It was a whimsical fervor that bounded and disarmed me.
“I can definitely take the heat. I don’t dream
about heat, Trista. I
make
heat. And once you get a taste of that, you will be the one begging me to take you.” The deep timbre of his voice vibrated all over my heightened body. I wanted to scold my treacherous body for reacting to him, but it was futile. It was uncomfortable,
and yet
, pleasurable.
If
just his eyes could have this effect, I wondered what his touch would do to me. It would most likely light me up like a goddamned Christmas tree. I’ve never had this kind of sexual chemistry before, not even with Harry. That honest admission aroused something else inside of me, but I dispelled it as soon as I could.
Taylor was Bass’s friend. I didn’t want to hook-up with someone who I
would eventually see back home. No, my life was complicated as it was, I didn’t need to tangle myself in another hot mess.
With my arms folded on my chest, I held his heated gaze with purpose. “I guess it’s a good thing that I’m not in
to you, pretty boy. This technique might work on others, but it doesn’t do shit for me. Maybe it’s high time you go and treat your pretty dick to some pussy showdown. I’m sure you could take your pick from one of those over-eager New Yorkers.”
Taylor’s eyes searched mine before he trailed them
to my lips, those eyes burning with evident need and something else, almost like he was fighting it, too. This weird pull was unnerving. Cautiously, he looked away and gazed at the sea. “Yeah, you’re right,” He murmured as his fingers ran over his hair. With a resolute sigh, he went back inside without giving me another glance.
I stared after him, knowing I did the best thing. Taylor might be irresistible, but I
couldn’t risk it. With my luck, I would end up being hurt again. Going through this emotional death and physical pain of losing the only man I had ever loved was the greatest challenge I have yet to conquer. Involving another man that I would be seeing for the next four weeks was not the brightest of ideas. That would be like asking life to shit on you some more. Yeah, not going there—not if I could help it. If I wanted to get laid, it better be with some guy that I would never see again; never get an emotional attachment to. Ever.
That night, we went
out to party again. I wasn’t a wee bit surprised when those girls joined us since they had already mentioned they would see us at the club. Their names floated around, but I never was interested enough to catch any of them. Lindsey seemed to get on with them, as did Taylor. He was different tonight; he seemed more guarded, unreadable. He wasn’t a jerk or anything, he still talked to me, but the warmth and playful tone were gone. I was hardly surprised. Men like Taylor aren’t used to the word “get lost”. I tried to ignore the odd feeling of his new treatment of me, so I paid extra attention to my drinks and danced with random people. I didn’t even try to engage myself in any lip-lock wars with other men this time because I didn’t want to see Taylor pull another stunt like he had the night before.
The
other difference this time was that Taylor was openly flirting back with all of the FFs. The blonde twins, whom I was internally referring to as Buxom Blonde One and Two—or BB One and BB Two for short—were certainly making their interest blatantly known, rubbing their tits on the side of his arm. It didn’t help that they were voluptuously gorgeous. The urge to barf was strong, but I forced myself, though a difficult task to achieve, to look away and pretend I was enjoying the night.
I really did try.
I danced with countless men, but I didn’t let it get past that. I didn’t need another close encounter with Taylor. No, not tonight
.,Nnot when my emotions were at an all-time high. I simply didn’t trust myself around him.
Taylor
Trista was behaving oddly tonight. The woman did flirt with men, but nothing big happened. I wasn’t sure if she was trying to moderate her antics or if she was merely trying to stay away from me.
I tried to enjoy the night with the New Yorker Twins, Allie and Ellie, but my eyes always ended up checking
out what Trista was up to. Before I had gotten a great view of her nakedness last night, my watchful protectiveness would’ve been a normal thing, but, after that nice flash of temptation, I knew it wasn’t all for good intentions any longer.
I wanted that feisty cat of a woman. I wanted to see
if she could be tamed and if she really drew those claws when I took her over and over again. I wanted her to fight me and, yet, I wanted her to give in to me. She was a raging hellcat to the highest order —beautiful, fiery, passionate and very much uncontainable—but I was drawn to that beautiful, feistiness. Her vulnerability couldn’t be seen when she was around people, but I knew better. I had witnessed her breakdown. Maybe that’s why I was so intrigued by Trista. Whatever it was, I wanted to get to know her. Hell, my body wanted to get to know her. She spat fire and oozed sadness. It was a heady mix.
Her conversation with Harry earlier
had shaken the woman. For a short time, she had let me hold her as she cried her pain away. Holding her when she was clearly heart broken, changed me. I vowed then, that no matter what I did in the future, I wouldn’t let a woman be this miserable because of me. I didn’t have a sister, but if I did, I would kill the man who would hurt her this way. Harry was truly a sad, son of a bitch.
Though
Trista tried to deny our attraction, I didn’t do much to renounce it. It crackled when we were in the same room and I badly wanted to explore that connection with her. Yet, she rejected me at every turn. It was a frustration that I had never been presented with before.
We were back from the club and here I was in the living room drinking as the twins rubbed themselves on either side of me. Twins
had been a dream of mine back in the day, but staring at the girls didn’t even get me excited. Sure, I was hard, but for the woman who was in the bedroom, the one
who slept without a scrap of underwear on.
I bid the twins goodbye when the sun was coming up. We were leaving back to Aspasia in the next few hours and I wasn’t even tempted to relieve myself with
either of them. I’d rather savor the sweet torment the hellcat bestowed upon me. Very soon, I would have her underneath me, writhing for me, begging for me.
Yeah, the woman certainly got to me
in the most primal way possible.
Chapter 11
Trista
Lindsey and I decided to go for a leisurely stroll back to the cottage, instead of taking a ride from the pier. We wanted to explore more of the island, but at the same time just catch up, too. It had been months since we really had time to just have fun and not talk about problems. I could
handle
this side of Lindsey.
We took the shore route after walking on the long
, winding path of never-ending rows of olive trees. Being this close to the sea, where I almost died, brought both sadness and comfort to me. Now I looked at the azure body of water as an omen, a sign, a challenge even. Together with the reality check from Taylor, it taught me that no matter how great the problem, I should at least learn how to endure it, tackle it, fight it. The only thing we could do in life was to survive it. It was the
survival of the fittest. Seeing life this way altered my perception completely.
“Do you think Amber’s really in rehab because her grandmother
presented her with that ultimatum, or is it because she totally went overboard and got out of hand?” Lindsey gave me a quick glance before she looked down to watch her feet as she walked when she asked me that question.
This
had occurred to me as well. Amber was pretty good at hiding her bad habits, even from me, her best friend. It was hard to tell when she was telling the truth or only
partially
telling it. Amber admitted once that she didn’t outright lie, but spoke only partial truths when the situation needed it. So, it was hard to gauge her text message. “The thought crossed my mind, but I think she’s telling the truth about the ultimatum. I don’t know, but I guess we’ll know the truth when she gets back in a few weeks.”
Lindsey blew out a long breath and shook her head. “Amber is pretty messed up. I still can’t believe that woman bitch-slapped me
, though. That shit was painful.”
I snorted when I remembered the incident. “I admired you when you didn’t do anything crazy. I mean—knowing how feisty
a woman you are—I expected you to slap her back to her senses or something, but you held back. That was out of character.” We both started to laugh madly. Amber
had
bitch-slapped Lindsey like she was on WWF.
When our laughter died down, Lindsey spoke up again. “Amber was hurting inside. I’m not that much of a bitch to want to
add to her pain. Her parents already got the trophy for that.”
We became silent after her remark. I was sure her thoughts matched mine. Memories of Amber through the years
, being treated with cold indifference and no apparent love, twisted my heart. I remembered in sixth grade Amber mentioned that she overheard her father telling her mother that she was a failure since she couldn’t even produce him a son. When I brought the subject up a few days later, Amber made me promise never to speak about it to her, or to anyone, ever again. Thinking back now, I think that brought clarity and answers for her, but then again, Amber has always hidden her real feelings when it came to her family. Funny, Amber was the one who finally caught me with Harry. I thought I had hidden Harry pretty well, but no, never with Amber. She was the female version of Sherlock Holmes.
We could see people hanging out in one of the cottages that lined the shore. I
assumed they were the film crew. They looked like the artsy, passionate types. When they yelled and waved, we greeted them the same way as we passed. As we drew close to the cottage, I sighed with relief. I had one more thing to do before we left for Athens this evening.
That
thing
being Carter’s present. One of the biggest predicaments I had was how to get Emma alone—without Lindsey, Bass or Taylor around. I would have to be more than just sneaky. Bass might hate me forever if he ever found out.
Lindsey and I dusted
our feet off before we entered the cottage, barefoot. “I’m going to go get some agua, want some?” I asked Lindsey.
I frowned at her while she stood there, frozen. “Dude, I just asked you a question.”
“Shh… shut the hell up. Be quiet!” Lindsey barely glanced at me as she tiptoed towards the marbled hall, in the direction of the bedrooms.
Of course, curious, I tiptoed and followed her cat-like pose. “What are we doing?” I hissed at her.
“Do you hear that? I think it’s our girl getting her freak on,” Lindsey whispered back. Her eyes sparkled wickedly.
We looked at each other for a few seconds, before it clicked. Oh, heck yes!
Score!
We obviously couldn’t miss the down and
dirty
show—not where the famous Bass was concerned. We started to hurry and listened for where the moans where coming from.
I was giddy with joy and curiosity when we found Emma’s bedroom door halfway open.
Jackpot!
Lindsey and I were both hyperventilating when we got close to the door.
I poked Lindsey’s arm out of excitement, but she flicked it off. We both mouthed “
Oh my god” as we craned our necks to get a closer glimpse of Bass.
The first thing I saw was Bass Cole’s golden ass. He was settled in between Emma’s parted legs. They were making out…
that was until Bass started to get down and got ready to show off his special masterful skills. Bass was whispering something in Emma’s ear as he started to slowly stroke her with concentrated precision. Boy, the dirty words that came out of that hot friggin’ mouth… I wanted to die. It was SO blatantly hot! I needed to fan myself before I passed out.
“Ladies.”
A voice came from behind us.
Oh, dang it! Did he have to interrupt us when the show had just started?