Sexy Hart (Sexy Series) (7 page)

After a short while, I find a small chaise and sit slowly, again - putting my hand to my sore cheek. I wish I could cup my boob right now to soothe it, but I doubt that would go down too well in this public reception. Once I know everyone will have settled in, I’ll go to my room.

Where does this go from here? I mean, Stacy is still here, she’s due to stay with us for the entire trip. Will Oliver arrange another room for her? Have they broken up? Is she going to want to be here? I wouldn’t if I was her. Oh please god, let her go home or somewhere else. I don’t know what to do with myself. I owe her such a huge apology but she’s going to hit me again. I know I hate the bitch but I still feel so bad for her… she must be so upset. I’m such a cow. A nasty, adulterous cow. Ugh.

A little time passes and I feel slightly safer going to my room. It takes me a short while to get there - this place is huge! But by the time I find my door right at the end of the hallway, I open it and step inside.

I slowly put by bag down and close the door as I look around. It’s beautiful, an absolute haven… soft ivories and champagnes, incredible bright flowers and the twin aspect, enormous windows offering the most breathtaking view of Las Vegas and the incredible mountain scenery behind it.  This feels like I have stepped into a big hug, so warm and comforting - my place to escape the madness of what’s happening right now.

I step over to one of the floor to ceiling windows and gaze out, thinking about Oliver. Why did he do that? Just… why? He could have just shaken his head and ignored her craziness, then dumped her in the traditional, more acceptable way, rather than telling her his BFF has sucked him off and it was nothing like ‘putting it in a wet sock’. Of course the good news is, my bjs aren’t like putting it in a wet sock. Phew.

I am interrupted by the phone in my room ringing.
What now? Can’t I just wallow on my own?
Of course, me being me, I have to answer it. I can’t possibly have the person on the other end ignored. Oh holy fuck, what if it’s Steaming Stacy. No! It’s not going to be Stacy. If she wants to contact me, she’ll come to my door and attack me. Maybe with a weapon this time.
Psychopath
.

“Hello?” I ask, nervously.

“Hiya, doll. You okay? Why did you run off like that? And what the fuck is up with Olly and Stacy? We came back to the car and everyone was acting weirdly.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” What the hell do I say? I want to tell her the truth but how can I? ‘Oh, Oliver told her I sucked his dick…
’? No chance. That’s her brother and I’ve been vehemently denying that I’ve slept with him forever.

“Oh… okay. I’ll ask Oliver later. So, we thought we’d go for a walk along the strip… fancy it?”

“Um, actually, I think I’d rather stay here and have a nap, I’m feeling super tired all of a sudden.”

“Oh… that’s no
fun…” she says and I can hear her pout. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m just tired.”

“Okay, darling, well I’ll give you a call when we’re back to discuss what we’ll do tonight. Get your glad rags at the ready, my lovely, it’s party time!”

I force a chuckle for Bea’s benefit and we say our goodbyes before I flop onto my bed, face first and whimper. This is becoming somewhat of a habit.

MONDAY 17TH JUNE

It’s about two in the morning and I’m slowly making my way down the hallway to my beautiful corner room, shoes and clutch in hand, having kissed goodnight to Bea, Daniel and Alexia outside their rooms.

Oliver and Stacy weren’t out tonight and although I love to party with Oliver, it was a huge relief to be able to try to enjoy my evening without feeling awkward. I’m still worried and anxious, of course, but for tonight, I can temporarily forget what happened earlier.

I seem to be moving in slow motion, meandering along with bare feet on the plush carpet, wondering what tomorrow is going to be like - or later today, I should say. It’s my birthday, and as excited as that usually makes me - right now, I’m just worried it’s going to be a huge pile of utter crap as I try to ignore my hideous guilt and fear of what Stacy might do or say because of my revoltingly inappropriate infidelities with her boyfriend.

Why, oh why couldn’t I just keep my hands… and lips… and the rest of it to myself? Why didn’t I push him away and say ‘no’? Why do I have this inability to keep my wits about me when he flirts with me or touches me like
that
?

I wonder what’s happening with them now… I wonder if he’s getting one hell of a load of shit from her… or if he’s even taking it, he doesn’t seem to be able to hold his tongue when she gets him angry.

As I get to my room, I take my card key thing out of my clutch and open my door, and just as I step in, a large hand presses against the door next to me, holding it open, and I jump out of my skin thinking I’m about to get attacked in my own hotel room.

“Hi, Clare,” Oliver says about four milliseconds before I yell my heart out, and as I throw my hand against my chest in relief when I see who it is, he quickly apologises.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you…”

“Jesus Christ, Oliver!”

He giggles a little bit and rests his hand on my arm “Sorry, sorry.”

I smile automatically at
his; it’s a very infectious smile. “Phew. It’s okay, I just thought I was all alone, I didn’t hear anyone behind me.”

“I literally only just ran up to you, did you have a good night?”

“Yeah it was fun, I’m sorry you two didn’t make it out.”
Not.

“No you’re not. You had a much better time without us, you’d never have relaxed if I was there with Stacy after what happened earlier.”
He knows me so well.

“No, you’re right. About that…”

“Let me come in. I want to talk to you.”

I nod and walk further into my luxurious room as he closes the door behind us. I drop my shoes and clutch on the floor and sit on the end of the huge bed wondering what’s coming next.

“Bit tipsy?” he asks with a smile as I drop back onto the bed and close my eyes.

“Mmm hmm. Tired too.” I respond before opening my eyes again, “Can I get you a drink? I have a bottle of wine over there…”

“I’ll get it, you want one?”

“No but yes. A small one please.”

He chuckles and stands by the dresser pouring two glasses. I close my eyes again, I’m so tired.

“So, as I was saying, about earlier…”

“Why?” I ask in a quiet whine, still lying on the bed feeling sleepy. “Why did you tell her that, Oliver? I mean, my god, that’s the
worst
thing you could have said.”

“Oh, Clare…” he says as he sits on the bed next to me and I sit up to take the glass he offers, “I just needed to shut her the fuck up. She was so fucking nasty to you all the fucking time.”

“Could you say fuck or fucking a few more times please?” I say sarcastically through a giggle. “But so what, Oliver? I mean, I can take it…”

“I don’t care if you can take it, darling, you shouldn’t have to. She was about to ruin your birthday and no one is going to do that while I’m around.”

I smile. “That’s sweet of you, but I can look after myself you know.”

“I know. I just can’t stand by while that happens.”

“And to be fair, I deserved it.”

“You didn’t. I did, yes, because I was the one that was with her, I was the one that came on to you and I was the one that was unfaithful. Not you.”

“So how have you left it? Does she know you’re here?”

“No. She’s gone. I took her to the airport and we got her a flight back to the UK.”

“Oh wow. So you’re finished?”

“Yep. And if it makes you feel any better, Clare, she told me she’s been sleeping around from day one.”

“What? Why would she tell you that?”

“Well, initially, she told me in anger, told me I was the worst in the sack and that I had a lot to learn about how to please a woman..
.”
See? I told you she’s completely, absolutely, without-a-doubt INSANE.

“And then, as time passed whilst we waited for the flight, things got a little easier and we talked properly, she softened and told me that she’d slept with one other guy a few times and that we were on a par in bed…” he chuckled. “Because that’s so much better.”

“Wow. So she forgave you… kind of… for…um… being with me.”

“Yeah. Kind of. But, you know, the weird thing was - I didn’t feel an ounce of anger or jealousy at her confession. It really didn’t bother me that she’d slept with someone else. The only thing I was still angry about was that she had hurt you.”

“Wow.” I take a long gulp of my wine, not looking at him because I know if I do, sitting on this bed and being tipsy… I will pounce.

“Want some more wine?” he asks as he stands.

“How can you have finished that already?”

“I was
thirsty,” he says, putting his glass down on the dresser before walking back over to the bed. I empty my glass and hand it to him, shaking my head.

“No, thank you.” I flop back down onto the bed on my back, even more relieved than I would have expected that Stacy has gone home.

“Me neither.” He puts my glass with his and walks back over. My eyes are open and watching him as he watches me.

“Clare… I wanna… um..”

“Hmm?”

“I want to, uh… I want to say ‘Happy Birthday’.”

“Oh,” I smile, “thank you! I forgot about that for a minute.”

“I didn’t.” He sits down next to me again. “Come here…”

I sit up and smile, knowing he’s going to give me a big hug and that’s exactly what happens. And I feel so… relaxed in his arms; so at home and peaceful. Even more so now that I know I can hug him without thinking Stacy would hate it. Wow, Stacy shagged someone else…

“Happy Birthday.”

I grin against his shoulder. “Thank you.”

He continues to hold me as he speaks again, “Can I stay here? I mean, can we sleep like this? You’re comfortable.”

I giggle. “Okay, you’re comfortable, too.”

“Good.”

We let go and each crawl up onto the bed until we’re lying with our heads on the pillows, and we reach for one other again. He slips one arm underneath me and I rest pressed up against his chest, still in my black party dress.

“You okay in that or you want to get changed? I won’t look, I promise…” he says, holding his crossed fingers up to his face. I laugh.

“I’m fine, I am too sleepy to change. I’ve missed you, Oliver. I know we have tried to reconnect but I feel like - now that Stacy is out of the equation - we can get back to being the way we were. It seems okay now.”

“I know. I feel… relieved. At first I really hoped she might have changed and been a little more accepting, but now that I know she was also thinking of someone else while she was with me, I see just how wrong for each other we were.”

“Well, of course.”
Also? Does that mean he’s been thinking about me… like that? While he was with her?

“Can I kiss you, please?”

“Oh my god. What?”

“Please? I just want to… I want to kiss you.”

“But why?”

“Because I want to. I like kissing you. I like doing…
things
with you.”

I pause for a moment before lifting my head back to look at his and whispering my response. “I like kissing you, too.”

His eyes smile as he gazes at me for a few seconds before slowly moving forwards. His hand reaches up to gently stroke my jaw and then lightly presses against the side of my face as he softly touches my lips with his.

My stomach knots and my skin immediately breaks out in goose bumps. He’s so gentle, so slow and loving but as soon as the pace picks up, as with every time we’ve kissed, he becomes more needy and forceful and it’s so arousing.

I press one hand to his chest and run the other up and down his broad back as we lose ourselves in the lust and passion of the moment.

He slows and as he moves away from the kiss slightly, he clamps my bottom lip in his teeth, tightly. I moan loudly and grasp the back of his neck, silently begging for him not to stop, I love this, I love how he makes me feel, I love how I don’t even need to think about what’s happening or act in a certain way to make him want me - the reactions I have towards him in these situations is so totally natural and it seems to spur him on.

His hand runs down my side and grabs my bottom cheek firmly, pulling me sharply into him, pressing my lower body tightly against his.
Oh holy all that’s holy.
I am tingling and ready to come right now. Sex wasn’t on the agenda… but who the hell am I kidding? Sex is always going to happen if we’re in bed and kissing in such an erotic manner. And I can’t wait.

“There’s no one… no one like you, Clare…” he mumbles as he rubs his nose up the bridge of mine and then runs the tip of his tongue just inside my upper lip. “You move your body to mine like our rhythms are identical… we match… physically, we go together… I have never experienced that before…” he says, moving his head lower to kiss my neck, repeatedly.