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Authors: Pamela Ann

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BOOK: Frayed
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It took me a few more seconds until I let out a long breath. My fingers clenched on the rim of my opened luggage, speechless. What the hell just happened? Was that a promise or fucking sexual tension? I was beyond disconcerted, but I pushed myself
to get ready and show Taylor how his actions— and his soul-impaling-eyes—had no effect at all.

We dined on a
taverna that had tiny chairs and tables on the shore. I’ve traveled to a lot of countries, but I don’t think there is another place on earth like Greece. It truly was a jewel. The beauty, the cuisine, the people and the history of the country, it was all imbedded everywhere you go. You just don’t feel it, you experience it. It seeps into you, like a mating of souls. You knew you’d never be the same after that kind of experience.

After the simple, and yet very commendable dinner, we went to an outdoor club that was packed with tourists, just like us. “
Woot woot! European McHotties in the house!” Lindsey danced her way in, checking out men here and there. Her signature tight-hugging dress contoured her fabulous figure. Lindsey was stunning, beauty and brains, kick-ass, stunning.

Taylor, like a true gentleman, guide
d both of us girls to a table. Once we were all seated, I excused myself to go to the bathroom.

“What you do want to drink? We’ll order it for you.” Taylor threw me a question before I left the table.

I waved my hand like the question was irrelevant. “I’ll drink whatever you guys are having. It’s no biggie.” Call me a coward, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him squarely when he talked directly to me. He simply made me feel… odd.

Tonight, he wore white chinos,
a white dress shirt with sleeves that were folded and pushed up on his elbows, and light brown Armani loafers. He looked like the model that he was, sexy and oozing some astronomic sex, appeal. It did not help that he unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt to reveal his muscular perfection underneath it. Yes, I was now seeing everything he did, and not in the angry way that I had the night before. I took note how he liked to bite his thumb when he found something amusing, but was trying to withhold his laughter, or the way he didn’t really care how his wavy hair goes about. Messy, swept back, partially tamed or hung loosely around his eyes, he still looked gorgeous.

The bathroom excuse was a way for me to regroup my thoughts and
tame my betraying body’s reaction to the man. I comforted myself that it was simply a Hero Syndrome. I mean, what else could it be? I sure wasn’t
into
him the first time I met him.

My heart
hadn’t changed much, though. It still bore Harry’s name, like a curse or fate, across it. I gave up trying to nitpick why I felt the way I did when it came to him. It was what it was, I was not going to deny it, or even try to understand it. Matters of the heart were a mercurial subject to sort and ponder through—especially at a club, in Greece of all places. It was one thing the brains and the whizzes did not have an answer to—stupid hearts, stupid love. There were simply no explanations out there that could provide answers precisely why that was. That’s why it’s all
feeling
and not thinking.

Once I was finished using the bathroom, I came out and weaved through the throng of swaying people, dancing to
the beats of Tiësto’s
Traffic
, one of my all-time faves. I halted when a hot looking woman pulled me with a small pressure on my arm. “Let’s dance! Dance with me.” Her accented tone was heavy.
Spanish, perhaps?

In return, I gave her an approving smile. Sure, I could do this. I could dance for a bit.

She guided me towards a few steps that screamed VIP only. We joined a table that had a barely-aged-teen, looking all smug and pimpin’ it. The young man looked like he was probably about seventeen or so. He surrounded himself with six women, plus me and the accented woman who had grabbed me.

It didn’t take long for us to start dancing to the beat. Before I knew it, we were dancing right in front of the young kid. He was clapping like an idiot, his eyes greedy, checking me out. It was stupid, but this kid made me crack-up. He just looked too confident and too smug for his age. The effect was hilarious.

When the music ended, I said goodbye to the woman who hadn’t given her name, but we both smiled at each other in an understanding that it was great fun to dance with each other for a bit. “Wait! Dance more, for me.” The boy-kid asked, his accent obviously Greek.

“You’re a naughty kid. I already danced and you watched. You got the full viewing.” I spun around and went towards his table that had
a variety of alcoholic drinks. I picked up the Rosé bottle and saluted it at him. “See you around.” I gave him another smile before leaving.

Boy-kid bunched up his fingers and kissed
them with his lips. “Goodbye, beautiful.” He was obviously drunk already.

I waved him another goodbye
, walking with purpose, seeking Lindsey and Taylor. I was surprised when I found the two talking, drinks in hand. Lindsey looked up when she found me walking towards them. “Hey! Where have you been? You look flushed.” Her eyes took in my state. “Where did you get the Rosé?”

I pointed towards the opposite side of the room, and smiled at them. “I took the champagne after I gave that Small Big
Pimpin’ Kid a mini-lap dance.”

Taylor’s reaction was a Kodak moment. “Cheers!” I nodded at him before I took a long gulp of the mighty fine bubbles, straight up from the bottle.

“What!? I would’ve loved to have
seen that! What a bummer!” Lindsey looked like I just told her that she couldn’t have margaritas any more. I gave her a big, goofy grin.


Mi scusi, I’m Eliza and this is Mia. We’re from Roma. We were wondering if you were that Armani ad underwear model? Taylor, sí?” Two awed, giddy teenage girls eyed Taylor like he was edible. Lindsey and I both looked at each other, then at Taylor.

The man in question stood up and shook their hands. “I am
that
Taylor. It’s nice to meet you Eliza and Mia from Rome.”

The girl
,
who introduced herself as Eliza
,
gushed and turned tomato red when she got
up
up
close
and personal
to Taylor. She ordered Mia to take pictures of the two of them together.

Taylor was an Armani underwear model? Holy sexy man! I needed to Google that, like right now! Lindsey moved closer to me and whispered in my ear. “Did you think he modeled for like The Dollar Store or something?” Lindsey nudged me. She could easily see through my reaction.

I flicked my hair to the other side, not caring that Taylor was engrossed talking to his fans now. “Want to put your Greek plan in action?” I asked the grinning Lindsey.

“Fuck, yeah! It took you long enough. It’s time to rock those tittays of yours woman!” Lindsey gave me a wink. Her brown eyes sparkled wickedly with amusement.

Ever since my breasts developed to full C-cups, she
’d always teased me about it. I mean, they’re pretty decent, but since I’m petite, they look somewhat huge on me, and much more pronounced when I wear a tight top, like tonight.

She held her hand out and guided us through the throng of people dancing. She stopped when we were squashed in the middle
of those people, who were lost in the groove of the music. Reggae Techno blared through the speakers. We started dancing like no one was watching us. I danced and drank from my bottle, having not a care in the world.

After ten minutes of dancing, two British men came to join us. I barely glanced at Lindsey because the Brit looked like Josh Duhamel, but with a British accent. Talk about loaded ammunition! I was sold. “James,” he whispered
in my ear, his hands holding my hips possessively. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, or how disarming his looks were, but I was melting in his arms. James could be my cure
—t
.
T
he
cure for my reaction to Taylor
,
,
not Harry. There was no cure for the kind of hangover that Harry had produced.


Trista,” I whispered against his cheek. I shivered deliciously when my cheek made contact to the light stubble he had on his jaw.
Could I melt some more, please?
I clung on to him as we danced together. I liked how he didn’t really push himself on me, or feel me up like other men would. His hands stayed put on my hips, planted firmly. I finished off my champagne to the very last drop.


Here, let me dispose of it.” James took the bottle, tossed it away and was back in a flash, looking too irresistible and without much restraint; I pulled him close and kissed him. As my kisses deepened, it earned me a satisfied moan from him. In under a minute, James weaved us through the crowd, half kissing as we went along. We both made a sighing sound once we were against a wall, somewhat hidden, close to where our table was, but I couldn’t be bothered to check if Taylor was there or not. He was the last thing I needed to see when I was getting my freak on.

James didn’t hold back kissing me this time. I pressed my body against him, matching his fevered kisses, his hands
wandering. One cupped my breast, the other holding my ass in place, pushing it against his raging hard-on.
Yes!
I silently screamed in my head.
Make me forget. Even just for a little while. I just want to forget about it all.

Then
I heard
his
laugh somewhere. My eyes snapped open, searching to find where it originated from, still lip-locked with James. My eyes scanned the crowd, stopping almost right across from me. Taylor was talking to a woman, whose features I couldn’t see because she was facing him, so close to him. In fact, she looked like she was about to begin kissing him. I was sure she’s just waiting for the right moment. I loudly gasped against James’s lips when he grinded his hips against mine.

Forget Taylor and his lady brunette. I commanded my mind to focus on the kiss because it was getting extremely hot and loaded. I tilted my head back when James sought my neck, kissing it. My front teeth sunk
into my bottom lip when James gave my left breast a hard squeeze.

That weird feeling of being watched caught my attention. My eyes connected to Taylor’s. He looked observant, but at the same time, guarded and challenging. I broke eye contact when James parted from the crook of my neck. He placed his cheek against my own, as he tried to level his breathing. It was not a great wonder to me since I knew how tortured he was. The hardness of him poked me, sending warmth and excitement all over me.

“I apologize if I’m being too aggressive. You have completely broken down any self-control I had left.” James bluntly admitted, while his hands freely roamed, skimming my physique.

“Take me to your room,” I said looking up
at him. I haven’t been with anyone since Harry. For the first time in my life, I hadn’t declined when the doctor offered birth control like I usually did. There was never going to be a next time. I was going to be extra careful from now on. A broken condom was simply not reliable, note taken.

James seemed taken aback
by my blatant invitation. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured.” He genuinely sounded like he meant it, but my mind was made up. It was best to get on with it.

If I was to be a prisoner of my dark conscience, indulging in sexual urges was a small consolation. It was the only thing that was left for me to enjoy. Well, I hoped
I would, at least.

“Yes, I’m sure.” I leveled my eyes at him so he could see how serious I was. James bent over and kissed me one more time before he ushered us towards the exit door. James took hold of my hand
, leading me away from the club.

“Excuse me, but you’re leaving with my woman.” That stopped us walking
; the voice of Taylor was quite close behind us.

James spun around, pissed off. “I have spent the last hour with her, kissing her. From where I’m standing, she’s
with
me
.”

Taylor
sent me a murderous glare before he looked back to James. “We had a misunderstanding. Trista did that to make me jealous. Well, mission accomplished. That doesn’t change the fact that she’s
mine
. So, if you don’t mind, could you kindly take your hands off what’s mine and scurry off?”

Mortified didn’t even come close to what I was feeling at the moment. My cheeks suffused with blatant embarrassment when James
gave me an accusing glare. “Bloody fucking hell, women! I would rue the day!” He shouted as he started to walk away from us.

I gently pushed his chest, angry and frustrated. “What are you now? Cock Nazi? It’s none of your business, Taylor. What the hell! That was uncalled for.”

“It was for your own good. You’re obviously drunk. I didn’t want you to regret it the next day. Especially after yesterday, I couldn’t risk it. I had to stop you from making that error.” Taylor slipped his hands inside his pockets while he regarded my reaction.

BOOK: Frayed
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ads

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