Seduction Page 9

  Justin opens the fridge, then looks inside. “Blue Hawaiian or Fuzzy Navel?”

  “Hawaiian.”

  “Here.” He opens it and then hands it to me.

  “Thanks.” He’s cute. Maybe twenty-five, with short blond hair and blue eyes. He’s built like a surfer—broad-shouldered.

  “Ready, girl?” Macey distracts me.

  “Where we going?”

  “I thought we could take a short walk on the beach together before the real party starts.”

  I like that idea. I follow her out of the room. “Everything okay?”

  “Sure.” She places my hand in the crook of her arm. “I invited a few guys tonight with you in mind.” She looks delighted. “Only one way to solve that little Craig problem. Are you over him yet?”

  It’s easier to confide in Macey than my sister. We walk down one flight of stairs to the lobby and exit through the front doors. “Not really,” I confess.

  “Aww.” She looks positively miserable. “A lot of people from the club are coming tonight. Wouldn’t be surprised if Craig shows up. He’s always on the prowl. Desire might be here, too. Have a problem with that?”

  I shake my head. “We worked together Friday night. She said hello in the dressing room. She’s not my favorite person, but I think we have a silent understanding about what she did. As long as it doesn’t happen again, I’m cool with it.”

  She slants her head. “As diplomatic as your big sister,” she remarks. “Must be in the genes.”

  “Not my mother’s,” I laugh.

  “How’s that going?”

  “Robyn called her today. She wanted me to drive to Odem with her. I can’t face my parents, not yet. That’s why I called you. Know anybody who needs a roommate?” I raise my face to the sun, breathing in the fresh air.

  When I look back at Macey, she’s chewing on her bottom lip. I look at her quizzically.

  “I’m hesitant to say this. But what the hell…you’re safer with me. I’m looking for a roommate. The rent is expensive, though.”

  I’m psyched. After visiting Macey’s Ocean Drive mansion the other day, I dreamed of living in a place like that. “How much?” I’m almost afraid to ask.

  “A thousand dollars a month.”

  Ouch. Well, if I keep a tight schedule at work and don’t go crazy with spending…“Do I have to sign a lease?”

  “Nope,” she says. “Your word is good enough for me.”

  We’re near the water now. I take my boots and socks off, cuff my pants, and let a wave rush over my feet. It’s warm. Pleasant. I missed the beach so much while I was in Austin. I missed it growing up in Odem, too. The more I see it, the more I feel I made the right choice coming back. Now if I can only figure out the guy thing. My cell rings. I take it out of my pocket. Estevan. I frown, then look at Macey. She knows. I’m sure Robyn told her everything.

  “Which asshole?” she asks.

  “The ex.”

  “Oh, give me that phone!” She swipes it out of my hand before I can protest. She answers. “What do you want, asshole? No, Marisela isn’t available, but I am. Wanna carve my heart out and feed me to the dogs too? No? Really? I’m sure she doesn’t miss your tiny, shriveled excuse for a joystick. She’s a whore? Care to come over here and say that to my face? Anytime, sweetheart. You’re in town?” Macey throws me a stunned look. “The Radisson on North Beach—find me. My name? Ask for Macey.” She hangs up.

  I’m close to puking. I can’t believe her. Oh. My. God. “Macey.”

  She hands me my phone. “Look,” she says, holding my quivering hands in hers. “Robyn filled me in on everything. And now he’s here. Don’t care how long. You don’t have to say a word, baby girl. I’m deeply sorry about what happened to you.”

  I turn away. I’ve never admitted it to anyone. I figure if I don’t, it never happened. But my sister reads me too well, evidenced by her best friend’s candid statement. The only person I ever had sex with before Craig was Estevan, and he assaulted me the first time. I’m rigid. Tears sting my eyes. Shoot me now and put me out of my misery. “You shouldn’t tempt him. He’ll come, believe me.”

  She curls a finger under my chin and forces me to look at her. “I want him to. Wesley will kill him. He has a hit list. And Estevan Beltran is on the top of it.”

  “I can’t believe your boyfriend knows, too.”

  “Don’t ever be ashamed for being a victim, Marisela. Learn to rely on others for strength while you recover. And when you’re healed—return the favor someday.”

  She speaks with such conviction. “Were you raped?”

  She nods—a haunted look clouds her eyes momentarily. “Eight years ago.”

  “How…”

  “Time. Only time helps. Come on, let’s check on the bonfire.” She drags me away from the water.

  “Wait,” I yell. “My shoes.” I scoop them up and run after her, feeling a bit happier for the first time in days.

  —

  Time to join the living again. Whether I have a chance with Marisela Gonzalez or not, I’m still a man. And moping around my house or at the club isn’t going to change a damned thing. She’s determined to forget me. In time, maybe I’ll forget her, too. I laugh bitterly. Neither one of us is capable of ignoring the other night. I grit my teeth, willing her to come back to me. Maybe I should text her. One more night in my bed and I’ll convince her of where she belongs. I’m pissed that I have feelings for her—real feelings, uncontrollable ones. She knows it; that’s why she’s hiding.

  There’s a party at North Beach tonight. It’s ten o’clock, and I’m almost at the Radisson. I find a parking spot on the street a block away from the beach. I hear music thumping, screaming, and drunken laughter. I get out of my car and set the alarm. It’s humid. I’m in shorts and a black tank top. I walk briskly down the street. I hit sand and trudge past the Radisson cabana, which is strung with blue and red Christmas lights. There’s a DJ set up in there. Half a dozen picnic tables are occupied by people in swimwear. I recognize a few girls from the club and wave.

  The bonfire is a hundred yards up the beach. It illuminates the cloudy sky. There are probably a hundred people drinking and dancing. A few guys are playing tackle football. I walk around the far side of the fire. Dozens of pieces of driftwood have been set up to sit on. I see Wesley and Macey.

  “Hey.” I bump fists with Wesley.

  “What’s going on, Craig?” Macey sounds wasted. She takes a swig from a bottle of Captain Morgan and offers it to me.

  I take a long swallow. Then I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and hand it back to her. “Didn’t expect so many people.”

  “Yeah, well…” she stammers. “Word gets around. There’s some roasted hog and corn on the cob over there.” She points to a smaller fire pit a few yards away.

  I’m hungry. “I’ll check it out. Be back.” I casually scour the area as I walk. I laugh at a couple of guys wrestling in the sand—dumb-asses. I pass by couples making out. And then stop dead in my tracks. I blink. What. The. Fuck. Marisela is sitting on a lawn chair next to some guy, holding his hand. Bile burns the back of my throat. Instant rage. Not happening. I stalk over.

  “Marisela.”

  Her head jerks up. Her mouth opens and she drops the asshole’s hand. “Craig?”

  I see red, fucking flames. “Get. Up. Now. Marisela.” Instead, the guy rises, ready to challenge me. “You get one warning,” I growl at him. “Sit down or I’ll do it for you.”

  His eyes narrow, but he wisely heeds my advice. “Marisela?” He gazes at her.

  “Forget it, Justin.” She waves her hand dismissively at me.

  “I’m not playing, baby.” If she doesn’t get up by the count of three, I’m gonna throw her over my shoulder. “Now.”

  She huffs. I can tell she’s been drinking. She climbs out of her seat and pierces me with the deadliest look I’ve ever seen. She staggers over. “You’re a fucking barbarian.”

  I lean in. “Yeah—want to show Just
in how much you like it?”

  She holds a finger to her mouth. “Shhh.”

  My patience spent, I take hold of her arm and drag her away. Far away. Out of sight. We’re face-to-face. “What the hell are you doing here with another guy?”

  “The same thing you’re always doing with other women. Looking for meaningless sex.”

  I count under my breath, hoping to maintain control. One. Two. Three. I swallow, hard. “Quit screwing with me, little girl.”

  She laughs. “Jealous? Imagine that. Asshole Craig finally met his match. Can’t handle it when someone blows you off. I’m supposed to sit at home pining away for you while you get on with your life? Screw you.” She pokes me in the chest.

  That’s it. I catch her wrist and pull her into my body. She hits me with a grunt. My arm wraps around her tiny waist like a steel band. I tip her chin up. “I can’t get enough of you, baby.”

  I capture that filthy little mouth with mine—ramming my tongue between her wet lips. Mine. My blood boils. If I ever see her with another guy…She punches my shoulder. I ignore it and deepen my kiss, laying claim to her body. Then she moans. Her frame slackens in my grasp. I caress the soft curve of her hips and tug her closer. I grind my crotch against her. I’m rock hard. I can’t leave any doubt in that obstinate brain of hers. None. I’ll kill the next bastard that touches her.

  She sucks in a breath. I pull back to give her some space to recover. Her eyes flutter open. “I hate you.”

  “No you don’t.”

  “I do.” She’s trying to convince herself, not me. She closes her eyes and sighs. Then licks her kiss-swollen lips.

  “Tell me you want me.” I’m on her again—I cup her ass with both hands.

  She stares up at me. “Never.”

  I give her a firm shake. “Don’t lie, Marisela. You win. I’m jealous as hell. I can’t handle seeing you with another guy.”

  Laughter mixed with something more arousing escapes her lips. She clings to my arms. “Make love to me, now.”

  Chapter 11

  I roll over. Marisela is sleeping, snoring lightly. After she demanded I make love to her last night, I half carried her to the Radisson lobby and we checked into a room. What followed is indescribable. Her sex is still all over me.

  I lean over and sweep her hair aside. I love the curve of her jawline. I trace it with the back of my hand. My heart aches. Damn it. Why now? Why not three or four years ago, before I fucked up my life? She doesn’t move. She had too much to drink last night. I kiss her cheek and slide out of bed. Checkout time is noon, but I’ll ask for an extension. Half the rooms are occupied by Macey’s friends. The hotel should be more than happy to extend a simple courtesy.

  I walk to the bathroom, turn on the light, then shut the door. I take a quick shower, then head downstairs to grab coffee and a couple of bagels. The hotel serves continental breakfast until ten thirty. I barely make it in time.

  Macey and Wesley are sitting in the breakfast room. “Craig?” Macey calls. There are three glasses of orange juice on the table in front of her.

  “Good mornin’,” I say. “Feeling the aftereffects?” I laugh. She looks hungover.

  “Have you seen Marisela?” she asks.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ve been worried. She disappeared last night. And with her ex in town—”

  “What’d the bastard say this time?”

  She runs her fingers through her disheveled hair. “Nothing, yet. But I talked to him on the phone—more or less challenged him to come here and find me.”

  “I told you not to do that,” Wesley growls in disapproval.

  Not sure when women started to act like men in that regard, but it pisses me off. “You should listen to your boyfriend,” I concur. “Leave the asshole to me.”

  “Frankly,” she says, giving me a shut the fuck up look, “I’m not sure you’re any safer than Estevan.”

  I cast her a scathing look. “That’s stupid, Macey. I’d never hurt her.”

  “That’s nothing compared to what that…” She doesn’t complete her sentence.

  And now I know. What I suspected from the beginning. The heated conversation I overheard in Garrick and Robyn’s kitchen. The history of abuse. Marisela’s odd behavior. Her disconnectedness—spontaneous outbursts of rage. At some point Estevan forced himself on her. I hate thinking about it. “I’m not going anywhere, Macey. She spent the night with me.”

  “What happened to Justin?” she blurts.

  Wesley shakes his head. “Don’t know when to stop, do you?” He glances up at me. “I never liked Justin, anyway. I’ve got your back.”

  I nod, appreciative of his support. “I’m going to grab some food and head upstairs. Take care.” I don’t give Macey a chance to say anything more. I walk away.

  —

  I’m wide-awake, surprisingly with no headache. Not sure where Craig is, but I smell his musky cologne—and imagine his hands all over me. I sit up and stretch like a cat. That man is an amazing lover. He knows how to gyrate like a stripper. And his tongue…I tingle all over. Then I curse myself for allowing one argument to make me fall into his bed again. It’s too late now. I think my heart had something to do with it, too. He’s made his position abundantly clear. We’re exclusive. And I’m not even sure how that happened.

  —

  My phone rings. I finally assigned Estevan a ring tone a couple of days ago. It’s a music clip from The Hunger Games. I roll over and grab it off the nightstand. “What!” He’s instantly belligerent. “Yes. I. Have. A. New. Boyfriend.” The door opens. I look up; Craig is holding a tray of food. “I don’t care if you know where I work, live, or play. I’m done listening to you. Done accepting your phone calls. Get a life, asshole.” I hang up.

  “Glad to see you recovered,” he says, placing the tray on the big table across from the bed. “Estevan’s usual tirade?”

  “He claims he knows where I work now.”

  Craig’s lips curl into a sneer. “I welcome him with open arms,” he says, picking up a bagel and pouring a packet of honey over it. I climb out of bed. “The minute—”

  His mouth snaps shut. Suddenly I realize I’m naked.

  Craig’s heated gaze sweeps over me, his chest falling and rising rapidly. He drops the bagel. He comes at me.

  “What?” I know very well what he’s thinking—wanting. He’s fluent in two languages: English and sex. There’s a savage look on his face. I look up, licking my lips. Wondering who’s going to make the first move. Alcohol emboldened me last night. The memory of taking him in my mouth for the first time is directly linked to my snatch—I’m wet. My body jerks. He presses me back against the bed, his expression so intense I’m twitching. I deserved his anger last night. Maybe even today. Seeing me with Justin…I know how I felt only hearing about Desire.

  His hands are braced on either side of my face, his gaze focused on my eyes. “Let me reiterate what I told you last night.” He doesn’t try to mask the ferocity in his voice. He reaches down and unbuttons his fly. I’m wide-eyed and squirming. I want him. His shaft is beautifully shaped, thick and smooth. “Never test my patience like that again, darlin’.” He flips me over.

  My face is buried in the sheets, my stomach flat on the mattress. His cock glides between my butt cheeks. He pushes my hair aside and nips the back of my neck. “I need you in my life, baby,” he says. Pleasure ripples through me. He bites me again. A tiny prick of pain makes me gasp. He laughs. His hands burrow roughly underneath me, kneading both breasts. Then he pierces me. I scream—and he’s only halfway in. Whenever he’s fully encased, I can hardly move. He groans, then thrusts again.

  “Craig…please.” I hold my breath.

  He nuzzles close to my ear, kissing his way up my neck. “So tight, baby. So fucking perfect.” He picks up momentum—plunging and withdrawing. My emotions are spiraling out of control. There’s no beginning or end with this man. Only now. I’m reaching levels of pleasure I’ve never dreamed possible. He jab
s punishingly. “Tell me,” he whispers wickedly. “Do you still want Justin?”

  I strain to look over my shoulder. That’s a strange question to ask in the middle of sex. Or is it? I catch a glimpse of his lasting rage. “No.”

  He pounds into me again. I feel the rush of his release—hot and pulsing. Seconds later, I reach my own. My God, what’s happening to me?

  —

  Marisela is still on her stomach. I’m curled next to her, running my fingers up the valley between her butt cheeks. “Did I tell you how much I liked what you said to your ex when I came into the room?”

  “You did?” She faces me.

  “I also like a girl who fucks on command,” I say nonchalantly. I can’t help myself; she’s so easily taken in sometimes. She smacks my arm. I hate to take away from the happy moment, but there are important things to discuss. “Before we leave this room, I think we need to reach an agreement about our relationship.”

  “Is that what it is now?” She inclines her head.

  I laugh, but then grow serious. “After last night I would think my intentions are clear.”

  “Our sex is fantastic, Craig, but we haven’t even gone on a real date yet.”

  She’s right. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m a selfish asshole sometimes. Every man is entitled to make one mistake, right?”

  “As long as you recognize that I reserve the right to change my mind.” The bite of sarcasm in her voice worries me.

  “Are you saying you want to give us a try?”

  “Maybe.” She thinks about it, whether seriously or to taunt me, I can’t say. “I don’t ever want to feel the way I did the night of my guest dance again. I accept your past for what it is…as long as those women stay there. It’s not easy for me to trust anyone.” The muscles in her jaw twitch.

  I know we’re broaching a subject she’s very uncomfortable with. But I can’t overlook her history any more than I can forget my own. “I’ll never hurt you, Marisela. And if Estevan ever shows his face, I promise to protect you.” She doesn’t need to know how much I know. She’s skittish. I stroke her face gently. I don’t want her to relive her nightmares—I want to help her forget them. Forget the bastard who stole her innocence. Even when she’s smiling, there’s a hollow look about her. “Will you trust me?”