Frayed (22 page)

“Oh God! Trista! All this time, you’ve been carrying this burden. Why didn’t you tell me?” Emma was hugging me like she didn’t want to let me go. “I’m so sorry for not
being there for you. I feel like a total selfish shithead. I was complaining about my life while yours was much worse than mine.”

That made me laugh. “Trust me, your love life’s a pretty good distraction.”

She pulled away and trapped my face with her palms. “Really, though, are you okay?” Her thumbs wiped the small tears that gathered in the corners of my eyes.

“Yes and no. There are days that are good, but there are those that are really hard to get through. Being here with you all has helped me. Having a friend like you helps, too. I will tell Amber and Lindsey together, I can’t break this to Lindsey right now. I’m not strong enough to broach the subject just yet.”

A sad smile formed on her lips. “Take all the time you need. Just know that you’re not alone in this, Babe. I’m here to go through this with you.”

I gave a small nod, trying to smile. “Thank you. Okay, enough. If I don’t get my shit together, I will look like a hot mess. I can’t believe you did this in Santorini, Emma Anderson!”

“You look good, Tris. Let’s finish our bottles and spin on those poles. It’s been awhile. We might be rusty, but it’ll be a blast.” She tapped her bottle to mine in a silent toast before we finished the damned, thousand Euro, French bubbles.

Emma worked fast coaxing those short shorts out of the girls. We slipped those teeny looking scraps of
lycra
Lycra
on over our underwear, underneath our skirts. She also had one of the managers, poor besotted bastard, eating out of her palm when she batted her long lashes and those baby blues. She was able to convince him to not only let us dance, but to play our favorite workout song—
Creator
by Santigold—too. Emma, wired with alcohol in her system, was something else entirely. I loved watching her come out of her usually composed shell.

  “Banana Splits and shits?” Emma asked for our routine. I was surprised that she remembered our nicknames for them. It was one of our practiced routines, the best one we knew.

Grinning, I nodded at her. “Banana Splits and shits, baby!”

Banana splits and shits was a combination pirouette (walking sexily around the pole as you bend at the knee), carousel (sexy shit), chair spin (where we spun around whilst sitting), bow and arrow (upside down with both hands up holding onto the pole, a foot hooked around it and the other apart pose) and lastly the banana split (where we both dislodged our legs, up high on the pole, in the air and held on for dear life).

Thank goodness we were in one piece after the song ended. “We rocked it dude! I thought I was going to die before the banana, but thank God I survived that!” I gave Emma a high-five as we stepped off of the glittered stage.

“Gosh! We should definitely do more of those when we get back. I forgot how fun that was.” When we got to the table, the only one cheering us was Lindsey. Bass looked like he could commit murder. He was red from it. “Come on, that was fun, wasn’t it?” Emma pinched his cheeks until she got a small smile from him.

As soon as she was close enough to him, he grabbed her and planted her on his lap. “I admit, you looked extremely enchanting doing it. Still, Emma, you shouldn’t have. The men kept taking videos of you two. You’re so going to pay for that. I think you’ve stolen ten years off my life.”

I was smiling madly as I looked away from the couple, then my eyes landed on Taylor dancing with a
brunette
woman. They were practically having sex on the dance floor, but with clothes on. His hands were all over her, cupping her everywhere. Seeing him so into another woman made me feel sick.

He had made his point earlier this afternoon and I couldn’t help feeling that this was why he didn’t even want to fuck me; he wanted a different woman. Even if he had been purple with pain, I still didn’t think he would have wanted me now. I wasn’t sure if it was my pride, ego or sexuality that was hurt more. Maybe all three since the pain that was crushing me at the moment was so excruciating that it wouldn’t even allow me to think straight. It was a different kind of pain compared to what I had gone through with Harry.  Although, pain was pain and I was truly gutted.

Lindsey pulled me aside, so I didn’t have to keep watching those two pests dance the night away. “Em and Bass are leaving to go back to the yacht. Why don’t you go, hmm? You look tired, anyway.”

She was right. Today’s events were rather too much. Watching Taylor hook up with another woman was the last thing I needed, even though he and I weren’t anything to each other. He could do as he pleased and fuck as he pleased. I just didn’t have to watch it go down. “Yeah, that would be a wise idea.” I finally conceded to Lindsey’s suggestion.

“He’s just being retarded, Tris. He’ll come to his senses.” Lindsey tried to reassure me, but failed miserably.

“It’s no big deal. It was sex, nothing more.” I was in love with Harry. Everyone knew that. Then, why did I feel hollow saying that now?

Chapter 18

Taylor

I watched Trista and Emma get on the pole, but my eyes were stuck on the woman who drove me mad, with lust and affection. My hardened cock lurched at the scene before me as Trista’s body easily melded with the pole, making love to it. I was sure the entire club was enthralled at the beautiful display of womanly art. A quick glance at Bass confirmed my suspicions that he was having the same feelings as mine. It was a sight to see, yes, but I did not appreciate the male audience roving their eyes over her body. The show was sexy and it made me want to think about the ways I wanted to take her tonight. Pole dancing, it seemed, was a touch away from pornography. No matter what the entire population said, it was—without a doubt—sexual, sensual and a blatant, taunting display of sex. A man was bound to think of tits and pussies as they rubbed their bodies against that cold steely pole.

Trista was doing a fine job at
it,
it;
I had to hand it to her. Even though she and I weren’t talking much tonight, she truly had captured my thoughts and wayward imagination. She was a contradiction of feistiness, beauty, and confidence with a touch of vulnerability; a woman who wore her masks well. That tortured soul inside was held at bay when people were around, but when left alone, her demons hounded her.

At times I wondered if Harry cheated on her. I remembered eavesdropping at their conversation, hearing the vile accusations she had thrown at him. This led me to that very conclusion. There was no other reason I could come up with except that. What else could there be?

As she stood to follow Bass and Emma out of the club, my guts were telling me to run after her, I stayed put and tried to enjoy Libby’s company, though. She was more my type. Like my ex, Megan, she was brunette, tall, composed and beautiful. Tonight, however, I found any woman’s presence lacking. Well, apart from
one
that is.

The one who was too outspoken for my taste. The one who messed with my head in whichever way she could. The very woman who liked to push my buttons until I was seething with white-hot anger and rage. An anger that was matched with a simmering fire, making my cock hard with only a glance. Not to mention the fact that she was hopelessly and passionately in love with that bastard named Harry. All of that combined to make her the woman I should stay away from.

I was brought out of my frustrating thoughts of the hellcat when I felt Libby’s hand stroke my upper thigh, slightly brushing my cock while she was at it. “Do you want to drink some more or do you want to head out? We can do it however and do whatever you like,” Libby purred seductively in my ear.

Since Trista had come to me this afternoon, I’d been sporting a hard-on. It would do me a world of good if I could get rid of it. I was tempted to fuck the living shit out of Libby, but there was only one woman that I wanted to scream my name while she was beautifully coming apart in my arms.
Did that hellcat really go back to the yacht?  Maybe to fuck that man who was touching her body out on the deck earlier?
Or was she partying with someone else?

I wouldn’t put it past her. She had needed much more than a quick release when she had entered my room. She had wanted it hard and rough, but I’d held myself back. It was my way of punishing her.  Now
,
that I’d thought about it, she was more than capable of
choosing another man to satisfy her needs, since I didn’t even manage to satiate that hunger of hers, but thinking of her with another man drove me a little crazy. Trista was a responsive woman. She was a beautiful, passionate woman with a body that would tempt a monk. Push her over the edge and a man would truly see the beauty of what she could be and then snatch her up.

What was I doing? There was only one way I wanted the night to end and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be
inside
Libby. I needed to see Trista. What had happened this afternoon was stupid. I wasn’t sure if it had been my pride or something else that was hurt more from her blatant admission, but I was over it now.

I had to leave Libby and the party circuit. I wanted to be with
her.
Even though the woman I craved in my blood was in love with another man, I tried to not think much about the unconcealed fact. We were continents apart, and here in Greece, at least she was with me. With me with her body, but not her heart and possibly not her mind either. These barely leave me satisfied, but I found it difficult to resist when larger things rule my mind and simple common sense. When your libido and emotions come into play, there’s not much I could do but ride with the tide.

Now I was here, in her room, looking over her sleeping form, contemplating if I should wake her up or not. After this afternoon’s incident, I wasn’t sure if she would still let me touch her. Even with that knowledge, I found myself on the bed, shoes and all, continuing to stare at the sleeping hellcat. My eyes glanced at the pillow where a large, soaked spot marked her shed tears, tears of sadness, sorrow and love for the very special, Harry, perhaps?

A part of me wanted to ease some of the anguish she was in. I guess the man in me wanted to protect her, but another part wanted to make her see that a man who was too weak to fight for your love simply didn’t deserve all the love and admiration that she seemed willing to keep throwing at him. I wanted to make her understand what a real man could make her feel, what he could elicit from her tempting body.

I knew I smelled of alcohol amongst other things, but I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out to stroke her cheek, nor could I stop myself from leaning over and kissing her softly on the lips. My lips moved to her jaw and onto her neck. “Trista,” I croaked out, my body responding to the smell of her. My hand roamed about and rested on her ass, cupping it as I pushed her body against mine. “I want you,” I whispered against her soft skin.

Since I knew nothing was going to hinder my lips from seeking her wet depths, I immediately moved downwards, parting her shapely legs along the way. The tip of my tongue stuck out to get a taste of her. She tasted so fucking good, and I wanted more. I was working my way around her wet folds when she instantly bolted up. “Taylor?”

“Yes?” I asked, still working on her.

Trista brushed her hair to the side, staring at me with a shocked expression. “The brunette ditched you, didn’t she?”

Was that jealousy I detected? I dotted kisses up her thighs as I moved my body and lips upwards to greet the she-devil. “No, I believe it was the other way around. I apologize for my despicable behavior. I’m making amends. I’m sorry for treating you that way. It won’t happen again.”

“You sure you’re not here just to get laid?”

“Okay, that, too, but I really am sorry, Trista. What you did was wrong, but I shouldn’t have reacted and treated you in such a way. You didn’t deserve that.” Hell, I was a total dick this afternoon. I had no clue where my anger had come from, but it seemed like wherever Trista was concerned, nothing made sense to me.

“As long as you promise not to be a prick again, then we’re good. Come here and give me a kiss, you idiot!” She pulled me by my neck and kissed me passionately. “You sure nothing happened with that brunette? She’s more your type.” She spoke in between kisses as she pulled me in between her legs.

So that brunette comment I made to Lindsey back in Aspasia
had
gotten to her. I found myself liking the fact that it
did
bother her. “Nothing happened with Libby, promise. I used to like brunettes, but I assure you, with all that I believe in, I want you with everything in me. Brunettes be damned.”

Trista bit my bottom lip before she heatedly said against my ear. “Good, cause I’d skin you alive if something did happen. Take your pants off, I need you.”

Here was the siren being bossy again. Despite this, I wanted no one else to spend my nights with other than this very alluring woman who I had no real hold on.

Chapter 19

Trista

The next day, we were anchored close to the island of Mykonos after having already visited the island of Keros, Naxos and Paros earlier in the day. The captain had a large circular net attached to the back of the yacht. The rounded space was large enough for us to swim and play around. Kayaks, jet skis and a floating trampoline were all out for us to enjoy. We were amazed at having all of these things at our disposal.