Best She Ever Had (9781617733963) (19 page)

C
ynthia and Korey drew a few curious stares as they tiredly walked through the Pompeii Hotel and Casino lobby to the elevators. Cynthia hobbled in one Tory Burch slipper, dragging her crocodile-skinned hobo bag behind her. Korey had long ago removed his suit jacket and tie, slinging both over his arm, revealing his T-shirt and the sweat stains under his arms and along his chest.

Cynthia sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes at the few hotel staff and patrons that openly stared at them. She knew she and Korey looked like a hot mess, like they had just come off a weekend bender. They didn't need to be reminded of it!

She sneaked a glance at Korey again as they passed the giant seashell statue near the elevators. She was definitely worse for the wear, more so than he was. Even exhausted and disheveled, he was still handsome and unbelievably sexy.

She wondered if maybe, just maybe, the fact that he had forgiven her meant they could finally start anew. She certainly had been fighting the attraction she felt toward him because of the resentment he had radiated. Now that his resentment was gone, would he be willing to give her a second chance?

Not romantically, of course,
she thought quickly.

She had no interest in falling in love again with Korey or starting a relationship, she told herself. She still wanted her big fish with enough wealth to buy a small island, but reigniting the passion she and Korey had once shared was something she was more than willing to consider too.

It didn't sound like Korey was in a serious relationship now. Neither was she. Maybe they could come to a mutual agreement. Sex could be something they could both enjoy on the side whenever they got an itch.

“Could you honestly see Korey agreeing to that, though?” a voice in her head asked.

Probably not,
she thought. But it was worth a try!

Her eyes drifted to his mouth again.

It had been so long since a man had made her toes curl, since she had thrown back her head and shouted in ecstasy. She bet Korey could make her do that. She bet if he—

“All right, I'm taking my ass upstairs, ordering room service, taking a shower, and going to bed,” Korey said as he pressed the UP elevator button, snapping her out of her carnal thoughts. “I'll see you in the morning.”

“In . . . in the morning?”

She watched as the elevator doors opened and Korey stepped inside the compartment. She shuffled in after him. After he inserted his key card into the wall panel and punched in their floor numbers, Korey turned to her and nodded.

“Yeah, maybe nine a.m. or so,” he said as the elevator shot into motion. “I'll call you and let you know after I wake up.”

He wasn't going to invite her to his room?

The elevator chimed, and the doors slowly opened.

“See you later.” Korey stepped into the hall and waved absently. “Try to get some sleep.”

“Wait! Wait!” she shouted, making him stop in his tracks.

He turned to her with raised brows. “What?”

With Korey gazing at her, her resolve faltered. There was no way she could ask him to be what amounted to no more than her fuck buddy. She had tried to seduce him while she was drunk and hopped-up on sedatives on the plane, but she couldn't work up the nerve to do the same thing now—sober. What if he rejected her again?

“N-nothing. Good . . . good night,” she replied weakly just as the elevator doors closed.

 

Back in her room, Cynthia dropped her purse onto her night table and flopped onto the bed face-first. She kicked off her remaining shoe and closed her eyes.

Today had been mixed. They still hadn't found the kids, but at least Korey didn't openly hate her anymore.

Should have asked him to come to my room,
she thought, remembering his tempting mouth.

“No, you shouldn't have,” the voice in her head countered. “You just would have embarrassed yourself—
again.
”

Maybe, but there could be worse things—like wondering for the next twenty years whether she should have taken a chance with Korey like she had been wondering for the
past
twenty years. Could she really spend half a century wrangling over this stuff?

Cynthia sighed, envisioning a bleak future filled with money, luxury, and flights to exotic places, but devoid of passion and delight. The only thing she'd have to turn to was her vibrator and her hot tub until menopause set in and her sex drive withered away.

“God, that sounds depressing,” she murmured against her comforter.

Cynthia slowly raised her head. She knew what she had to do if she could just work up the courage to do it.

She slung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. She strode to the small refrigerator nestled in a cabinet underneath her flat-screen television. She swung it open and quickly scanned the half dozen or so mini-bottles inside. She finally settled on a bottle of Jim Beam, twisted off the cap, and took a swig. After a few more gulps, she finished the bottle.

“Okay,” she said, clapping her hands, feeling the hot sensation of the alcohol make its way down her throat, “let's do this!”

Half an hour later, Cynthia stepped off the elevator car before she could lose her nerve and strode down the hotel hallway to Korey's room. She had changed into a sexy red wrap dress and even sexier bra and thong. She had thrown on some makeup, liberally sprayed herself with perfume, and downed half of another mini-bottle—this time, Smirnoff vodka.

But despite her sexy clothes, alluring scent, and liquid courage, her legs still felt like taffy. Her heart thudded wildly in her chest. Shallow pools of sweat were forming under her armpits. She glanced down at her palms. Even
they
were sweating. But she wasn't going back to her room. She wasn't going to let this moment slip by. In the past, she had let immaturity and self-doubt shape the choices she made when it came to Korey—all of which she now regretted. A quirk of fate had brought them back together. She wasn't going to let this second chance pass her by.

After all, it wasn't like she was asking him to fall in love with her again. She wasn't asking for anything permanent here. She just wanted to spend the night together. That's all! Any red-blooded man would be amenable to that—
right?

When she reached his door, she took a deep breath, then knocked. She paused when she heard a murmur and then a burst of female laughter coming from inside.

Who the hell is that?
Did he have someone in the room with him?

Cynthia pressed her ear to the door and squinted with concentration, trying desperately to determine if she recognized the woman's voice. She wondered if it was that chick Shino or that silicone-laden stripper, Tiffany, from earlier that night. She heard more murmuring and more laughter, but the voice was unrecognizable.

You son of a bitch! You son of a bitch,
she thought. He had said he was tired! If that was the case, then why the hell did he have a damn woman in his room? Here she was about to throw herself at him—to give him booty on a platter—and he had the audacity to be getting down with someone else!

Just then, the door swung open. She yelped as she stumbled inside, landing face-first against Korey's chest, getting her face full of terrycloth and her nose full of zesty body wash.

“What are you doing?” he asked. Laughter was in his voice.

She jumped back and quickly regained her composure, pretending like she hadn't been caught red-handed eavesdropping. She adjusted the front of her dress and smoothed her hair. She glared at him. “I was just about to ask you the same thing!”

“I just got out of the shower.” He gestured to the hotel's complimentary bathrobe he was wearing.

“You mean ‘
We
just got out of the shower'!” she barked. “Isn't that more accurate?”

He looked confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about the fact that you have someone in here with you, Korey! Some woman!”

He shook his head. “There's no one in here with me.”

“Oh, bullshit! You're a grown-ass man, as you keep reminding me! You have some chick in here! Just own up to it!”

“Not that I have to explain myself to you,” he said tightly, “but I'm telling you the truth. There is no one . . . I repeat,
no one
in my room, Cindy, but you and me.”

When she continued to stare at him, the image of incredulity, he waved over his shoulder.

“Fine, then! Have a look yourself if you don't believe me.”

She hesitated for only a second before barging past him. She marched through the suite's living room and into the bedroom. It had the same layout as her suite four floors above.

She came into the bedroom, expecting to find a half-naked woman lounging on his bedspread, maybe eating strawberries or holding a paddle, for all she knew! Instead, she found an opened suitcase on the footstool and a discarded wet bath towel spread out on crumpled bed sheets. She walked toward the bathroom and saw it was also empty. Another bath towel was on the marble floor tiles, near the open glass shower door.

The television was blaring. Cynthia turned to look at it. The commercial on the screen ended, and suddenly a redhead appeared, giving a throaty laugh just before she stuck a cigarette into her mouth. She said something to someone off camera. Cynthia instantly recognized the woman's voice. She had heard it on the other side of the hotel door.

Damn,
Cynthia thought. That same old jealousy had crept up again, despite her best efforts. What was it about Korey that made her feel so irrational, so insecure?

“Told you so,” he said from behind her.

Cynthia turned to find Korey leaning against the bedroom doorjamb, looking smug.

“Honest mistake,” she muttered.

“Uh-huh.” He walked toward her. “Look, why did you come down here, anyway? It wasn't just to check on me to see if I was sleeping alone, I hope.”

She stared at the carpet, unable to meet his gaze. She felt ridiculous. This isn't at all how she'd envisioned this moment going down.

“So why'd you come?” he persisted.

She started to wring her hands. She pivoted anxiously from one heel to the other. She closed her eyes and pursed her lips.

“I wanted to have sex,” she blurted out, opening her eyes.

He gaped.

“I wanted to . . . to have sex . . . with you. There's no . . .” She flapped her arms helplessly. “There's no other way to put it. That's what I came here for.” She nervously gnawed on her bottom lip. “The chemistry is still there. I can feel it, and I'm tired of denying it.” She took a deep breath. “I . . . I want you, Korey.”

She waited for his response.

“What if I don't want you?” he asked, making her mouth drop open.

She had prepared herself for rejection but not for him to be quite that blunt. That wasn't like Korey at all. That was definitely more her style.

“You don't want me?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Cindy, did you ever consider that maybe getting a piece of your ass is not as enticing as
you
think it is? Or maybe, even if I was attracted to you, there's no way in hell I'd have sex with you again since the last time we did, you up and disappeared and married someone else!”

“But you know why I did that! I explained it to you a hundred times already!”

“That you did,” he agreed dryly with a nod.

“And you said you understood and forgave me.”

“Yep, I did.” He shrugged. “Okay, then maybe it's just because I don't want to have sex with you—period. Maybe it's as simple as that.”

She cringed. She had thrown herself at him twice—once on the plane and now in his hotel room—and he had said no. And not just no, but he had made it clear he wasn't remotely interested in her. She couldn't recall any man ever turning her down, definitely not this coldly. He said he had forgiven her, but obviously he hadn't.

“Told you this was a bad idea,” the voice in her head chastised.

She didn't want to show Korey how much his rejection had hurt her. She pushed back her shoulders, raised her nose into the air, and strode toward the doorway. “Fine. Good night, then.”

He groaned in frustration, reached out, and grabbed her arm as she passed. “Wait, Cindy.”

“I'm not waiting! Get off me,” she said through clenched teeth, yanking her arm out of his grasp.

“Look, I'm sorry! I was trying to be an asshole to you the way you were a bitch to me all those years ago.”

“Well, you succeeded! You got your little jab in. You don't want to fuck me! Fine! Accepted. I won't ask again. Now leave me the hell alone!” she yelled, striding to the door.

“Look, it was petty and uncalled for. I know that! I said I was sorry, all right?”

She finally stilled.

“Do you know what it's like to have these . . . I don't know what you call them . . . revenge fantasies, I guess . . . all these years, to wait for the moment to get back at the woman who broke your heart two decades ago? I couldn't resist—and now I feel like shit for doing it.”

They both fell silent. Only the sound of the television filled the room.

“You were . . . you were never very good at being mean,” she finally whispered.

“And I paid the price for it. I should have been more of an asshole back then and not worn my heart on my sleeve.”