Sweetest Sin: Bad Boy Bundle (25 page)

We hold our breath and stare at each other. His hand still hovers at my opening. My core blossoming and dripping onto his fingertips.

More knocking.

“Come on, I gotta go!”

I close my eyes and bite my lips as he carefully lets me go.

Just my luck
, I think.

“Sorry,” Jackson whispers as if in response to my thoughts.

I shake my head and adjust my bikini top while he pulls his jeans back up.

More pounding.

“Yea, hang on!” Jackson yells out.

I dart across the restroom to grab some tissue and try to clean myself up as best I can. My wet panties feel cool and uncomfortable against my hot pussy.

Jackson turns on the sink and splashes water in my face.

“What the fuck?” I whisper, not sure if I should laugh or punch him.

He chuckles and throws another handful of water in my face before brushing my hair back with his wet hand. Before I can say anything else, he rushes me over to the door and flings it open.

“Hey, sorry guys. She just wasn’t feeling good, you know?”

“Ew,” one of the college boys says as he curls his lip up at me. “Man, some chicks just can’t hold their liquor, huh?”

“Right?” Jackson laughs and gives the boy a high five.

I paste a fake smile on my lips and play the part. I guess having people think I’m a light-weight drunk on vacation is probably better than letting them know I’m a raging horny slut on vacation.

The
rest of the tour flies by in a blur. I’m not sure what I thought was going to happen if I slept with Jackson. I brought him into the bathroom thinking that when we were done I would be sated and tired. And instead somehow when we left the bathroom he was sated and relaxed and I was sexually frustrated and surrounded by people who thought I was puking.

And apparently, the thought that Jackson had so selflessly jumped to take care of a complete stranger who wasn’t feeling well, made him a prime target for the rest of the girls on the tour. As they all fawned and hung over him. There would be no separating him from the rest of the group at all.

By the time the tour is over, I can’t wait to get back onto a shuttle and to the hotel. I don’t even stop to thank the tour guide. Instead I just bolt onto the first shuttle, leaving the entire group behind, and crowding in.

Back at the hotel, I bolt to my room and step out of my soaked panties. Still cursing under my breath at my bad luck for the timing of it all.

But by now, cursing my bad luck has turned into something very different. Like convincing myself that I would have regretted sleeping with Jackson anyway. That he wouldn’t have been able to satisfy me anyway. All men his age care about is reaching their own orgasm.

And besides, I could find a lot better. Sleeping with him now would just be a big mistake, right? His hotel room is right next door. There’s no way it wouldn’t get complicated before the vacation ends. You can’t live spontaneously and have an encounter like that with the guy next door. That’s stupid.

My cell phone rings. I answer it without even checking to see who it was.

Big mistake.

“Kirsten!” My editor’s sharp voice yelled on the other end.

“Hi Felicia.”

“Kirsten. What the hell? I thought we were friends! I know you had a rough day and all, and I know you didn’t think that I was there for you. I was busy when you called and I’m sorry. But what the fuck? I even went to your apartment to check on you only to have John tell me you took off. Moved out?”

“Yea, Felicia, look. I’m—.”
Going to kill you
is what I really wanted to say to her.
Going to kill you and bathe in your blood, just like in one of those horror films you like so much.
“I’m not really in the mood to talk right now.”

“Fine. But you can’t quit. Just take a few days, clear your mind, and we’ll talk next week okay?”

“Yea, listen. I’m already trying to do that. But I don’t think—.”

“No, Kirsten, no. You’re not quitting on me like this. We’ve been friends for too long and we’ve gone through too much together. Now I know that things have been a little crazy since I got promoted over you, but that’s no reason to—.”

“It has nothing to do with that, Felicia, and you know it. It was just too much that day, that’s all. I just needed to not be me anymore that day. So I left.”

Felicia took in a deep breath, releasing it into the microphone to echo in my ear. I can’t fathom why she’s so angry. I’m the one who should be angry.

I should be furious.

I am furious.

“Have you seen yourself?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve gone viral, Kirsten. Remember that flash drive? You took off with it and you left me no choice but to have to report it.”

“Wait. What? You reported my flash drive?”

“No. I reported my flash drive.”

“Felicia. What the fuck.”

“You didn’t leave me a choice, Kirsten. You walked out on a story. And you took company property with you. Then you left. I didn’t want to report you, but I had to. You know my hands were tied. I’m sure it’ll all get worked out when you get back. You just come back to work and I can tell them to drop the whole thing.”

“I don’t even think I want to go back to work. And besides, even if I wanted to, I can’t right now. I’m on vacation.”

Felicia pauses before she says anything else. “Fine, Kirsten. Take your time. Think about it. And next week we’ll go to lunch or something and we’ll talk, okay?”

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“Okay. We’ll meet up next week. Bye Felicia.”

I hang up the phone and lean my head back up against the door.

I really need a break
.
This is supposed to be my break. Why the fuck am I talking on the phone with her?

My thoughts land back on Jackson in the bathroom. Wondering how that tryst might have ended differently if Jackson had just been carrying a condom. Or if I had had one.

No
. I snap myself back out of it. No if I want to find something fun to ride on, an outlet for my stress, I would need to look elsewhere.

Then my eyes catch onto another brochure describing the nightlife of Thailand.

That’s more like it
I think as I grab the brochure and start to browse through it. Dance clubs, music, and romantic nights at the beach. Plenty of distraction to get my mind off the day.

After
spending some time picking out my outfit for the night, I head over to the bathroom and turn on the hot water.

A knock sounds at the door. I step over and peak through the peep hole.

Jackson.

I grab my robe and tie the belt as I open the door. “Hi,” I say with my best fake smile.

“Hi. Uh, are you okay?”

“Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“I don’t know. You seemed upset after our uh…well after your…. After we were interrupted.”

“Nope. Not upset at all. In fact I was just about to take a shower and get ready to go out for the night.”

“Really?”

“Yep.” It’s all I can do not to throw myself at him and beg him to finish what we started. But I refuse. Choosing instead to let him off the hook guilt free. After all, having him finish anything now would feel…weird.

“So you jetting away from the tour to get back here as fast as possible had nothing to do with running away from me at all?”

“No. It didn’t.”

Jackson smirks and nods as he studies my grin. I’m sure he knows I’m lying. But he’s nice enough to keep it to himself.

“Okay. I just wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay.”

“Yep, I’m fine.”

“Right. Okay. Have a good night.” He waves and steps over to his hotel room door as he says good night.

I smile and close the door before taking in a deep, nervous breath. With my eyes closed, I can still feel his hot tongue dancing inside my mouth. Juices swirling between our lips.

Seconds later, another knock at the door.

Jackson again.

“Are you sure
you’re
okay?” I ask him this time.

“Yea, I’m fine. No. Look, I feel a little bad about how we got interrupted and I can’t help but think that you got—.”

“Shafted?”

“Well,” blush overtakes his cheeks and he smiles. “Not exactly.”

I giggle. “Look, Jackson. It’s sweet that you came to check on me. Really. But I’m fine. It all worked out anyway. Sleeping with you would just complicate everything. I came here to get away from complications. Vacation, remember?”

“Right. So…you’re really okay then?”

“I’m really okay.”

“All right. Then…enjoy the rest of your night.”

“Thanks,” I say with a smile and wave goodbye.

With the door closed yet again, I head back into the steam filled bathroom and disrobe. Only this time, I’m armed with razors, creams, lotions, and loofas. After everything is properly plucked and smoothed, I admire my work in the steamy mirror. Finishing off with a comfortable skirt and a complimentary blouse, I toss on a pair of sandals and spritz my favorite scent.

In the hallway, who should I run into but the same young man who delivered my room service order to me last night. I smile and nod as he knocks on Jackson’s door. I can’t help but get a slight ego boost as he nearly trips over himself staring at my legs as I turn on my heels and walk down the hall.

From behind, I can hear the man talking to Jackson about the order while I hit the button for the elevator.

Tonight is going to be my night
I remind myself.

The
shuttle ride to the club goes by fast. The music beats hit the night air outside and I take in a deep breath.

This
is a vacation. No more head games with the man next door. No worries about work. No more calls from my editor. Just music. Dancing. And fun.

I work my way into the club, find a spot at the bar, and order a soda.

“Oh come on. You don’t want anything stronger than that?”

“No. Soda is fine.”
I want to be sober for tonight
. I smile at the bartender, leave a tip, and chug the carbonated refresher.

A tall man walks up to me wearing one of the brightest smiles in the room. He orders another soda and places it in front of me, leans up against the bar, and offers his glass up to cheer.

As the glasses clink, I smile back, hoping I don’t look as pathetically awkward as I feel.

He grabs my hand and leads me out to the dance floor.

With his hand gripping my waist, I rock my hips to the music. Staring into his eyes.

He moves in closer. His hips grinding against mine in time with the beat. The bulge in his pants grows harder against my pelvis.

Every beat, every thrust, brought me further away from my problems. Sweat gathered at my hairline. The dance floor is a crowded maze of swaying hips.

And I am lost in his brown eyes.

His flowered, buttoned shirt hangs loose, allowing me to see right in to his cut muscles.

A while later, more people are crowding onto the dance floor. The only thing running through my mind is the music.

And the thirst.

I signal to my dancing partner my intention to run back to the bar for another drink. He nods and grabs my hand.

We bounce and sway through the crowd back to the bar and I order another soda.

My dance partner is a bit ambitious, as he pushes his manhood up against my backside.

I smile and glance over my shoulder at him. He is sniffing at my neck, releasing small, hot gasps of air.

Tickling my nerves.

I turn around, making sure my every curve rubs against him as I do.

“I have to run to the bathroom,” I say with a smile. “Meet me back out on the dance floor after?”

He nods and smiles.

I dart over to the bathroom, hardly able to contain myself.

I
finish my business in the stall and head over to the sinks to clean up. I splash a bit of water on my face and refresh my lip gloss. In the mirror, another girl leaves the stall and heads out the door.

I smile at my reflection and check my neck. Then adjust my bra and turn around to check my curves,

Satisfied that I look as good as I feel, I walk over to the paper towel dispenser and grab a towel.

My hair jerks back and my face crushes against the paper towel dispenser. I shake my head, trying to figure out what happened. Why does my face hurt? And is that blood or tears trickling down my cheek?

When I whirl around, I see my dance partner standing next to another man. A third man is standing at the door.

“What the…?” Spots are still dancing in front of my eyes, making it hard to focus on anything.

He steps up closer and grabs the back of my head. I kick my leg up as hard as I can. He yells and doubles over as I connect with his manhood and make a break for the door.

The second man catches me and grabs my shoulders.

I wriggle and kick against his grip. He laughs and tightens his fists on my arms until they hurt.

My dance partner walks up slowly, rubbing his dick and scowling at me. He tears into my blouse.

“No,” I yell and kick up at him again.

This time he jumps before I connect.

He raises his hand and lands the back of his palm on my cheek. Then clamps his hands down on my breast and squeezes.

The man holding me starts to pull me to the ground, keeping my arms just behind me. I wrestle and kick against them both with no luck.

He pulls his pants down and takes out his dick to rub against me.

His limp dick is cold against my stomach.

I twist and kick again, this time managing to wrench my leg out from under him and catch him in the shoulder. The force of my kick launches him back and I push against the man holding me down.

The top of my head connects with his chin. He grunts and falls back.

I scramble to my feet and start for the door. My dance partner catches me first. He grabs my hand and wrenches it behind my back before slamming my chest down on the counter. Then he leans up against my backside. His dick starts to wake up as he rubs it against my flesh. I try to jolt up. Tears are running down my face.

He slams my head back down, causing my vision to blur.

Then, as fast as everything started, it’s over.

The man standing at the door screams. My dance partner pulls off me. I try to stand up, but only manage to turn around and fall. I cower under the sinks as the man that was holding me falls. Blood trickles from his nose.

My dance partner runs at their assailant. I see glints of metal and I fear he pulled a knife.

A thump and a smack echo through the bathroom. Then he falls.

A hand reaches down to me. I cock my head around the counters to look and see who is there.

Jackson.

I am so relieved to see him that I don’t even care about how he got there. I grab his hand and let him help me to my feet.

Jackson brushes my matted hair back from my face and wipes away some of the running mascara from my cheek. “Are you okay?” he whispers.

I can’t even form words. Instead, tears stream and catch on my eyelashes.

He nods and helps me straighten out my blouse.

“Come on,” he says as he leads me back out of the bathroom and away from my nightmare.

We don’t bother stopping until we reach the shuttle to take us back to the hotel.

He unlocks his hotel room door and leads me in. I take a seat on the recliner and he grabs an afghan and drapes it over me.

“
Are
you okay?” he asks again.

I nod my head and glance around the room. “I was stupid. I thought I could just go out and do something new. You know? Like what we were talking about before. Just try something I never did before. Hook up with a guy and just. Just feel pretty. You know? So stupid.”

“Hey. No. What you did was not stupid. Okay. That guy was just a jerk.”

I nod again. For some reason I can’t bring myself to look Jackson in the eye. As if doing so would unleash judgment and shame.

And I wasn’t ready to see that.

“How about some coffee?” he asks as he runs over to his hotel coffee pot. “I got the hotel to restock those cups for me.

“That would be great. Thanks.” I take in a deep breath and start to relax.

He pours the water into the coffee pot and hits the button before coming back over.

“Do you need anything?” he asks.

“No,” I shake my head. “I think I would just like to hide out here for a while. If that’s okay?”

“Yea,” he says. “Sure. I don’t have a lot to do here. I can turn on the television if you like.”

“No,” I answer him, remembering all the crap on the news lately. “No that’s okay.”

Jackson nods and glances around the room. “I asked the guy from room service where you were going,” he answers my unasked question.

“I mean, I guess it wasn’t any of my business. But I paid him to get into your room and he showed me the brochure.”

“You paid someone to break into my room?” I’m not sure how else to react to this news. Should I be angry at his violation of my privacy? Grateful that such a violation ultimately led to his rescuing me? “I’m. I’m not sure how to take that.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m not used to girls giving me the brush off the way you did.”

He stares down at his hands, rubbing his fingers in a nervous twitch. “I know. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just. I thought you were into me. And then all of a sudden you weren’t anymore. You were going out dressed to kill. It gnawed at me. I had kind of hoped that after the tour we would have come back here together and spent the night, you know. Finish what you started at the cafe.”

I stare at the floor in front of his feet. Yet again I’m at a loss as to how to read his facial expressions.

The coffee pot beeps that it’s finished, releasing Jackson from his seat. He jumps to pour the coffee and brings back a cup for me.

I breathe in the steam and sink back into the recliner. “Mmm, thank you,” I say as he reclaims his seat.

He still nervously picks at his fingernails. Rubbing his knee as if awaiting to hear his punishment or something.

“I guess I can’t be too mad at you,” I whisper as I sip at my coffee.

And then spit it out.

“Oh my goodness this is awful. What did you put in here?”

“Nothing. Black. Right?”

“Two sugars,” I say with a scowl and stand up to correct my coffee.

He gets up and grabs the coffee from me. “I’ll fix it. I offered you coffee the least I can do is make it right.”

I smile and sit back down, wrapping his afghan around me and tucking up my feet. He returns with the coffee and sits back down to sip his.

“Anyway. As I was saying. I guess I can’t be too mad at you. I mean. If you hadn’t done that, then I would be…well. I don’t know where I would be right now but I guarantee you I wouldn’t be safe and sitting up here sipping at coffee.”

“That’s probably true. But irrelevant. If I wanted to use that as an excuse to let me off the hook for what I did I would have brought it up. The fact that guy was a jerk doesn’t excuse me for being a jerk, too. He just happened to be a bigger jerk.”

“Well. But still—.”

“No. I’ve been beating myself up over it all night. If some guy had paid someone to break into my sister’s hotel room—.”

He stops short.

His jawline dances as he grits his teeth. And he clenches his fist in front of his mouth.

“Jackson?”

He pauses for a minute before finishing his sentence. “No. Doesn’t matter. I am glad I was there tonight to help you. But I don’t want you to think that it excuses what I did.”

“Okay,” I whisper. “Okay you’re right. I hate you for breaking into my room.”

I giggle and shake my head as I sip at my corrected coffee.

He gazes at me for a few seconds. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I nod. “Yes. Yes I am definitely okay. And thank you for finding me and for being there and getting me out of there. And fuck you for breaking into my room to do it.”

“Yea I deserve that.” He laughs.