Suite 269 (17 page)

When I arrived back at the villa, I changed into a comfortable sleep shirt, slid under the safety of the bed covers, and curled into a ball. How could he do that to me? How could any man stay there with those women when the people who really feel something for them are waiting for them back home or in stupid fake honeymoon suites?

A minute later, I heard the door to the villa open and heavy footsteps thump down the hallway. Within seconds, James climbed into bed next to me and wrapped his arms around me. The feeling of relief was unreal. My eyes burned with emotion as I hugged his arms and nestled in closer to him.

“You okay?” he asked, warm breath tickling my ear.

All I could manage was a grunt.

“It’s hard to talk to people and tell them how you really feel. What you really think, huh?” he whispered.

“Easy to say things through email or private messages,” I murmured, “or when intoxicated.”

“You should just say the things you want, Lex. I told you I’d give you anything you needed here.” Here. Only here. That was the catch, wasn’t it? That was the thing that hurt the most. We had a time limit and the fantasies in my head had been projected into the far future where we were something other than the fun we were having. “Tell me what you want, Lex.”

I bit down on my lip and squashed up my face to stop any emotion from peeking out. Even though we were playing this fantasy game together, I could never tell him what I really wanted. His answer would be a resounding no and that would mess up the time we had left. “Just stay with me tonight.” My voice shook with stupid, stupid insecurity. Moronic vulnerability. What we all at one time suffer from. Fuck, guys don’t get it. All us women want is to be
wanted
. Cherished. We didn’t want to have to ask for it or beg for it.

And we wanted to be enough to deserve it. We want to feel like someone knows we’re worth it. We want someone to stay. Pick us out of the rest of them. Be everything for that one person.

He crawled under the covers and slid in behind me, molding the length of his body perfectly around mine. A knot twisted itself deep beneath my breastbone, spreading a disorienting warmth low into my belly.

“I think about sleeping like this every night,” his voice was low—his lips pressing against the back of my neck and sliding slowly, reverently over the base of my skull and across the soft skin of my shoulders.

The heat from his mouth kick started a steady throb between my legs. My ribcage felt as if it twisted tighter —I could barely breathe in deep enough.

I tilted my head over my shoulder, the one his lips covered, the one his tongue was darting out gently licking, and looked at him.

His eyes pierced mine and my heart nearly beat out of my chest from the sudden heavy emotion and ache that pulled at my heart.

“You didn’t like tonight,” he whispered between kisses.

“No, I didn’t,” I said, tilting my head back around so I didn’t have to look into his eyes any longer. His hand reached up and held my face, pausing for a moment then continuing with the assault of my skin with his tongue.

“All I saw was you. All I wanted was you.” The tip of his tongue fluttered down my back, sending chills and heat along my spine. He nipped at my ribcage—just below my shoulder blade, and I gasped from the contact. “I came back here for you.”

“Why?” I squeaked out, biting down hard on my lip. His feathery soft kisses traveled to the middle of my back, just above my bottom, and his teeth nipped playfully at my skin. His hands slipped away from my face and trailed down over my back. The way he touched me was full of tenderness—with a hard edge of refined restraint. His body was tense and coiled hard against me, and I knew at any moment I could be taken hard; ravaged, soiled and I wanted it—I wanted it all.

Through full open-mouth kisses against my skin, he whispered, “Nobody ever made me feel like this, Lexa. Nobody.”

What the hell did that mean?

I never got the chance to ask because he slipped deep inside me slow and steady. All night long.

I
had
her in every way possible. I think I’ve been inside Lexa more than I’ve been in any one other person. We tried things I never did with anyone else. And I didn’t want it to end.

We spent our days on the beach even when it rained, asking each other question after question. She’d ask the most mundane questions in her utmost serious expressions. “Tell me…what’s your favorite…” she began, then arched one eyebrow up dramatically and continued, “
cartoon
?”

“That’s a very personal question,” I chided. “I honestly can’t believe you had the guts to ask me something so
intimate
.”

She snorted and swept her windblown hair into a band and tied it into some sort of sexy, wild knot-bun-style. “Well?”

“Batman Beyond. Yours?”

“Old school, way before my time; Pinky and The Brain.”

“That’s classic. Okay, what’s your favorite color?” I asked, reaching over and tucking a loose strand of hair she’d missed behind her ear.

“Purple. You?”

“Blue.” And what I really meant was the insane color of her eyes. But saying that aloud wouldn’t be good. Not good at all.

“Music?” she asked.

“Classic rock,” I answered. The line of questioning continued for hours, turning and spinning into days. Every inconsequential detail of our lives—books, movies, vacations, blogs, political views, every little impersonal tidbit of information, we tossed back and forth to each other. I couldn’t honestly remember the last time I wanted to know more about a woman, or wanted to tell everything to a woman for that matter.

Each night as the sun sank below the horizon, splashing crisp, fiery colors across the sky, the questions turned more meaningful and not easily answered. I wanted, no,
needed
to know why a woman as brilliant as Lexa could settle for a boy like Kevin Trager? Why hadn’t she really forgiven him? What were her ambitions in life? She couldn’t want to just be a fact checker for the rest of her career. What was her childhood like? Her first kiss?

“I noticed the lack of a father figure at your Un-Wedding. What’s the story there?” I asked.

“Un-Wedding? That’s what you’re calling it?” she snorted.

I shrugged. “Just answer the question, brat.”

She poked me in the shoulder with a finger and laughed. “My father left when I was eleven. Had an affair with someone he was working with. The classic cliché affair. He’ll send a Christmas card every year, sometimes a birthday card if he remembers.” She smiled brightly, pretending it didn’t kill her to be so rejected by her own father. A low roll of tension boiled in my blood. Some men should never get the honor of having children—especially little girls—when all they’d ever end up being is jacked up sperm donors. Beyond that, now I understood her more, now it started to become clearer why she was so self-conscious.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” I asked low.

She shook her head. “It’s been so long I’m used to it already. He chose my stepmother over my mom and me. There’s nothing I could have done or said to stop it. Why let it affect me now?”

“But it does affect you.”

My words rattled her. It was easy to tell by the darkening pink of her cheeks. But she asked questions too. Uncomfortable ones.

“Why Sophia? What did you see in her?” she asked.

“Nothing, really. She was easily available. She threw herself at me one night and I just went with it. I wasn’t seeing anyone at the time, so I spent the night with her.” I rubbed at the back of my neck, ashamed and not even understanding why. “I never thought there was anything more for me. I never really felt strongly about anyone. Just sexually. I mean, I’ve dated plenty…but like Sophia said, I was always emotionally inaccessible. I’d never met anyone I wanted anything more with. I’m not opposed to the idea of relationships and marriage. I’ve never felt that way about someone before. I’m not sure I ever will. But I know I certainly didn’t feel it toward her.” I exhaled loudly and leaned back, “I always felt bad for her because I could never muster up any real feelings.”

She nodded her head slowly as she looked out over the horizon—her expression deep in thought. I watched her face carefully, wondering what she felt about my words, but she gave nothing away, just stared out across the water, impassively.

“It’s bittersweet,” she murmured, turning her head toward me and smiling tentatively. “Having these beautiful feelings for another person—the butterflies, the comfort, the wanting to spend time with someone. It’s such a breathtaking feeling. Until you taste the bitterness of them not feeling the same way back. It’s hard to let go of that breathtaking feeling. So hard.” Her eyes were wide, as if she shocked herself with her own words.

Yet I understood. I really did. Because I could already taste how bittersweet it was going to be when our time was over.

I sure as hell didn’t like the taste at all.

I
leaned
my phone against the lamp and angled it perfectly. I peeked at the viewfinder to see the whole room in the frame. Then I hit record. A small ding chimed and she giggled. I watched as she stood in front of the phone, biting down on her bottom lip, “I feel like there should be some raunchy music in the background.”

I hit a few buttons and a slow, sexy song filled the room. “Better?”

“Mmmm,” she purred, slowly swaying her hips to the music and sliding one strap of her dress over her shoulder. She wore her hair up in a loose twist and slowly pulled out a pin, making her hair tumble down around her face. The dark strands against her tanned skin made me think of beaches and coconut oil. She slowly turned her back toward me, peeking over the back of her shoulder, her gaze still fixed on mine. The gradual rasp of her front zipper sent waves of heat rising along my skin. The silky material of what she wore inched down her back, exposing her smooth skin. Lower and lower it dropped as she swayed her hips to the rhythm of the song. I clenched my fists tightly around the arms of the chair. I wanted them on her hips as she rode me. I wanted my cock inside her, filling her; my tongue, fingers, I wanted to crawl inside this woman and live in her blood stream.

I sat and watched her undress until I saw the small tremble of her lips. A small breath of insecurity that I wanted desperately to erase.

I lunged for her and she watched my advance with wide, hungry eyes. She needed to see how much a man could want her. After this, she’d be able to see it whenever she wanted to; all she’d have to do was press play. A reminder of the short time we had together.
Fantasy Number Two: sex tape
.

We fell onto the bed and she tumbled back onto the pillow, hair splayed out like a crown around her head. She watched the way I looked at her, my slow perusal of her body. She was the most stunning woman I’d ever seen. Her nipples tightened into hard peeks under my gaze, her legs rubbed against each other, and the apex of her thighs dampened with her arousal.

“You look so beautiful,” I leaned over her and whispered in her ear. “I want to do so much to your body right now.”

“Like what?” she whispered.

I shifted off the bed and dragged my messenger bag off the table. “Number seven on your list was use toys,” I said.

A small rush of breath blew from her lips and her hands grasped onto the bed sheets beneath her. “Oh, my God.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “Would you relax? It’s nothing crazy.”

“If you pull out anything with a spiked chain on it, or any gag-type apparatus or…or some other sexual torture device, I think I might run,” she vowed, trying to speak in a stern voice. The fit of giggles that completed her thought made my chest squeeze. I loved when she laughed.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Want to see what I bought you?” I asked.

She leaned up on her elbows and nodded.

“Have you ever used one?” I asked, pulling out a small bullet-shaped vibrator.

She shook her head quickly, “Not really. I tried but Kevin said it would replace him if I used it.”

“So he was jealous of a piece of plastic,” I chuckled.

“He told me he wouldn’t have to come home anymore if I bought one. He told me I should be able to come from him unless there was something wrong with me. I shouldn’t need a stupid vibrating stick.”

“And did he always make you come from his cock?”

She hesitated before speaking and looked apprehensively toward the vibrator. “I could probably count on the fingers of one hand how many times he made me come.”

“My poor girl,” I said, smiling and biting down on my lip.

“He always thought there was just something wrong with me.”

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. This enhances pleasure.” I rummaged for the next box and the lube in my bag, and unpacked a medium sized anal plug. “So does this.”

A pink blush crept across her face.

Opening the lube, I poured a good amount of it into the palm of my hand and rolled the plug through it as she watched. “Knees up, beautiful.”

Immediately she smiled and hugged her knees to her chest, giving the camera and me the perfect view. I gently worked the plug into her bottom, bit by bit. When she scrunched up her face, I stopped and let her relax, then gently pushed it in until it could go no more. What a gorgeous sight. My dick was rock hard and throbbing from it. “You feel full?”

“God, yes,” she sighed.

“Just wait,” I smirked. I stood up, unbuckled my pants, and let them drop to the floor. My hand was on my cock immediately, stroking it while my eyes devoured her. “You haven’t felt anywhere near full yet.”

“Oh God, oh God,” she said, as I slid alongside her and pulled her legs over mine. I entered her sideways, shoved myself deep inside her, making her moan out my name. She lay on her back with her legs draped over me, the cell phone camera aimed straight on her. “I’m going to put it really low. Okay?” I thrust deep inside her again and softly placed the tip of the bullet against her swollen clit and turned it on. She sucked in a fast breath, “James,” she said, eyes wide.

Again, I thrust myself deep inside her, her silkiness vibrating around me, tightening. Fuck, I could feel the vibrator shake her whole pussy. Her body trembled. Soft, low moans murmured strange foreign words from her lips.

“Take hold of it, Lex,” I panted, putting the vibrator into her hands. “Make yourself feel good on my cock. Make yourself come on me.”

Her hand fumbled for it and when our fingers brushed against each other’s, I felt how much they trembled. “You’re absolutely breathtaking when you lose control, Lex.”

She smiled up at me, placed the vibrator against her clit again, and rocked slowly against it. “That’s it, baby. Enjoy it. Enjoy me.” Watching her move her hips made me almost blow my load. The way she moved her body was my own private show. That’s what she was doing—putting on a show for me, showing me how she could enjoy her body and mine. She was letting go.

I could have watched her all day. The way she moved the toy over herself and the erotic facial expressions that flashed like pure sin across her face.

“Oh, my God, James. God…this…is…so…in…tense,” she gasped. She started really getting into it—circling the vibrator around her clit—getting the tip of it slick with her wetness.

“Fuck, Lex. That’s hot.”

“You like watching me do this?” she asked in a husky voice. Her eyes pierced mine—her lips parted and her breathing became rushed and heavy. She was watching me get off on the way I was watching her.

“S’good. James. So full,” she moaned breathlessly. Hell yeah it was. I was bottoming out in her, balls hitting the swell of her ass and the tip of my cock hitting the top. I was so thick and hard I could feel the anal plug filling up her ass.
Fuck, I was getting close
.

The soft buzzing of the vibrator hitched up quicker. She was putting it up higher. The sensation had me thrusting into her harder. Faster. Our skin slapped wetly together. Her gasps and moans grew louder, heavier. They mixed with my heavy breathing and low grunts. My balls tightened and that intense spiraling ache began surging through the base of my dick. The bed creaked as she moved her hips with mine—the fabric of the sheets crinkled and pulled as she clawed her nails against it. She was so hot she was making the bed moan and sigh along with her.

I slid my cock all the way in and all the way out. Until her chest was heaving, rising and falling in quick, heavy gasps, calling my name. She grinded herself into me, pulled me in closer with her free hand and kissed me. Her body bowed and arched off the bed. She got wetter and wetter, slicking over my dick until she was jerking and screaming and convulsing in hard, tight pulses around me.

“Holy Jesus. Sweet holy, yes
,” she moaned. “James. Oh, shit. Oh, fuck.”

I couldn’t think. All I heard was her calling my name—I couldn’t hold back—the feeling was too intense. I came hard—with her name like a prayer staining my lips.

And I had gotten it all on video
.

W
e were wrapped
up in the sheets when my phone rang. I hated to leave the comfort of the bed and the way her leg was slung over my hip, to answer it, but my father’s name flashed across the screen. Ever since my mother’s death I’ve tried to be there for him whenever he needed me, as soon as I could. It was guilt I guess. I’m not sure. Not that it mattered, I just always answered the phone when he called and did what he needed me to do. I didn’t get to do that with my mother.

“Where are you?” he snarled into the phone.

“I told you I was taking a few weeks off,” I explained, quietly walking out of the bedroom for some privacy. There was no chance of me telling him I was here with Lexa. I’d never hear the end of it.

“The latest numbers are in. It’s humiliating. We scrap the offices in New York and head out West.”

“They’re that bad?” I asked, walking to the back balcony and looking out over the dark sea.

“Five major advertisers pulled from us yesterday. Five.”