by DJ Hunnam
It was pointless.
I slammed my fist on the desk, and the force tipped the frame over, but the cigars didn't budge. I tried to pull one out, but it wouldn't move. I picked up the box and looked closer. At the edge of the velvety fabric was a narrow space so inconspicuous I had missed it in the dim light. I pulled on several cigars and the entire top lifted.
It was a false bottom cigar box.
I peeked inside and almost passed out with relief when I saw the key to my freedom nestled in the bottom.
The sweet smell of plumeria wafted on the ocean breeze drifting through the open door of my ground floor suite at the Four Seasons Resort in Wailea, Maui. The sun was shining, palm trees were swaying and the infinity pool glistened from the lanai. Nestled in a bay with water so clear you could see all the way to the sandy bottom, the resort was breathtaking. The grounds were as immaculate and well-maintained as the luxurious interior.
I hadn't splurged on a place like this since my days with the NFL. Even after years of having money, I still felt guilty spending it. It seemed insane to pay more for a hotel room than most people made in a month.
After walking through the marble-floored lobby, I veered right and found one of the many outdoor restaurants. The hostess's eyes widened, and she licked her lips when I stopped in front of her. Her eyes wandered over my bare chest, and for half a second I thought she might deny me entry. All it took was a smile and she waved me through with a breathy giggle.
I looked around and spotted Erica from across the restaurant. That red hair had always been a homing beacon for my dick. If my balls tightened just at the sight of it, I was in serious trouble.
"Speak of the devil and he shall appear," Damian said when he noticed me strolling their direction.
"Nice place," I said as I slapped my friend on the back. "Hi, Janice. Nice to see you again."
"Hi," Janice said with a warm smile. Janice's long blonde hair was braided down her back and her chunky sunglasses hid emerald eyes. She was attractive with a rocking body. It was evident why Damian hadn't been able to resist her, even though he was technically her boss. The two had started fooling around a few weeks back, and I'd never seen my friend so torn up over a chick, besides Amelia.
Janice glanced over at Erica, who was doing her best to ignore me. Her nose was buried so deep in the menu she probably couldn't even read it. I strode to the empty chair and lifted my aviator sunglasses. Erica still had her head down, but I could see her jaw ticking. "How have you been, girl? It's been a while."
With a sigh, she looked up and her blue eyes widened as they trailed over my naked chest and torso. A blush warmed her cheeks and she forced her lips up into a practiced smile.
"Yes, it has been," she said, dropping a, "Fortunately," under her breath.
Chuckling at her less-than-warm welcome, I dropped my sunglasses back in place and slid into my chair. "You look beautiful. You've put on a little weight. It suits you."
Janice spewed her water out and started choking, clasping her chest as she coughed. Erica didn't seem to notice since she was too busy glaring at me.
"I'm surprised they even let you in here. Isn't there a dress code?" Erica asked with a snobby tone, so uncharacteristic that I wanted to take her over my knee and spank her until her ass was as red as her hair.
"You're one to talk, with those short-ass shorts and tiny tops. Not that I'm complaining."
Her cheeks flushed bright, but I didn't care if I had embarrassed her. She looked fantastic in her Daisy Duke jean shorts, her impossibly long legs crossed at the knee. Her layered tank tops accentuated her still-too-tiny waist and beautiful, full tits. Any weight she'd gained had gone straight there. Before she could formulate an appropriate comeback, the waiter arrived with a tray full of Bloody Marys and Mimosas.
"Thank God," Erica muttered as she took a big gulp. "Oh, and I'm going to need another," she told the waiter as he turned to leave.
"Maybe, you should slow down," I murmured.
"Maybe, you should mind your own business."
"We wouldn't want a repeat of five years ago."
"Don't worry. My tolerance has increased some since I was eighteen. And I can guarantee that what happened five years ago, will never happen again." She gave me a pointed look.
"That's a shame."
"Okay, you two," Damian interrupted. "You're scaring Janice."
Erica and I both glanced over at Janice, who seemed more amused than anything.
"I'm sorry. We're being rude," Erica said. "Will you please excuse me? I need to use the ladies' room."
I shook my head and whistled under my breath, admiring the sexy swell of her ass as she hurried away. "Shit man, she still hates me, doesn't she?"
"I thought that went much better than the last time you two were together," Damian replied with a chuckle.
"What happened five years ago?" Janice asked.
"Yeah, what did happen five years ago?"
I shifted in my seat and ran the tips of my fingers through the condensation on my glass, doing my best to ignore Damian's smart-ass smirk. "No way. I have been sworn to secrecy. And I have no intention of pissing your sister off. Any more than I already have."
Janice laughed. "If you didn't want to piss her off, mentioning her weight wasn't the best move."
"I meant it as a compliment."
"In what universe is telling a woman she's put on weight, a compliment?" Janice asked.
"I've known Erica since she was fourteen years old. She's always been rail-thin. I'm glad to see a little meat on her bones," I said with a shrug. "Come on, Damian. I know you agree."
Damian threw his hands up in the air. "Don't drag me into this. Just play nice, okay? Erica's been going through some shit, lately."
"What kind of shit?"
"Shit with her career."
"Now, I feel like an asshole," I said, shooting out of my chair. "I'm going to go apologize."
***
I rested against the wall across from the resort bathroom, hoping to catch Erica on her way out. It was stalkerish, but I didn't care. I couldn't risk her escaping to her room before I had a chance to talk to her. It was time to clear the air.
Erica stepped out of the bathroom and jumped in surprise when she saw me. I fell back a step when the pungent scent of marijuana wafted out.
"What the fuck were you doing in there, Erica?"
"Do you really need a play-by-play of what I did in the bathroom?" Her shrill laughter pushed me over the edge.
I grabbed her by the elbow and pushed her back in, locking the door behind me. Like the rest of the resort, the bathroom was luxury at its finest. It even had a seating area with a plush couch.
Before I could admire the room further, Erica yanked her elbow out of my grasp and stumbled back a step.
"Are you doing drugs?" I asked. She glanced down, refusing eye contact. "Erica, look at me."
When she finally did, her eyes flashed with anger. "Don't you judge me, Dante."
"I'm not. Just tell me the truth."
"Why? So, you can run and tell my brother?"
"No. So, I can help you."
"That's interesting, coming from an addict."
Shame burned in my chest. It had taken a year to overcome my opioid addiction. Coupled with the loss of my football career, it had been the worst time of my life.
"Recovering addict, Erica. I had a neck injury that cost me my football career. And I haven't messed with that shit for years." Her eyes grew wide with sympathy and it made me want to punch a hole in the wall. "And this isn't about me. This is about you."
Her shoulders slumped and her hair fell forward, obscuring her face. I wanted to shake her. Make her tell me her secrets so that I could try to fix them. Instead, I gently pushed her backwards until the back of her legs hit the couch, and she flopped down with a weary sigh. I sat down beside her.
She dropped her head into her hands and I thought she was crying, but then she looked at me, her eyes begging for relief.
/>
"I'm so tired." She laid her head on my shoulder and stared straight ahead.
"Tired of what?"
"Of it all. I'm a puppet. A malleable toy to be played with and positioned exactly how everyone else sees fit. That's all I've ever been. First, it was my mom and then it was the leeches I've surrounded myself with for the last three years."
"Babe, what happened?" I rubbed my hand down her arm and pulled her closer. I tried to ignore the swell of her breasts peeking out from her tank tops.
"So many things, I wouldn't even know where to start."
"Start at the beginning."
"I don't know where that is, anymore. That's the problem. I'm lost."
"Then let's find you," I said. Her body grew rigid, and she lifted her head from my shoulder. The wariness in her eyes killed me.
"I appreciate your offer, but I don't need your help."
"From the looks of things, I'd say you do. You're smoking pot in a bathroom at eleven in the morning."
A blush spread across her face, and she shrugged my arm off her shoulder. "You don't get to storm in here and pretend to be my knight in shining armor. Not after everything that happened."
"Jesus, when are you going to get over it? If I had known denying you would cost me a lifetime of contempt, I would have fucked you and been done with it." She shot to her feet with an angry gasp, but I snagged her wrist before she could run. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."
"No. You're right. I do need to get over it. Just don't pretend that we're friends. All I've ever been to you is Damian's baby sister."
I wished my dick felt the same. She was more than my best friend's sister. And she was definitely no baby.
Her lips parted as she dragged in several weary breaths. The mane she called hair fell wild around her shoulders, and those ocean-blue eyes swirled with a vortex of emotion. I tugged her towards me, even though she gave a half-hearted attempt at resistance.
"Dante..."
When she was secure between my legs, I pulled her down by the nape of her neck. Her eyes had gone glassy with desire, or maybe it was the drugs rushing through her veins. "You mean more to me than you'll ever know. And I do want to be your friend. But I want to kiss you more."
Her eyes widened with alarm. For half a second I considered she might reject me, just to prove a point, but then her eyes fluttered shut. I closed the gap, pressing my lips against the soft expanse of hers, teasing her trembling bottom lip until she granted me access. She tasted even better than I remembered.
With a moan and a shudder, she drew closer. She ran her hands across my bare shoulders and down my back, dragging her nails across my skin in slow, lazy circles. When she straddled my hips, and sunk onto my lap, I almost lost it.
It was as if she had read my mind, because she ground against me, the friction pulling a deep groan from my chest. I ran my hands over her bare shoulders, down her arms, and around her waist.
I gripped her hips, fully intending to push her away before things went too far. She was high and vulnerable. I didn't want her to feel like I was taking advantage of the situation. With desperation on her flushed face, a whimper escaped from her mouth.
"Dante," she begged, burrowing her face against my bare chest. She was rubbing me raw, but I didn't care. I'd take this form of torture any day.
"What do you want, babe?"
She shook her head, the tips of her hair tickling the bare planes of my chest, refusing to say the words I had to hear.
"Do you want me to make you come?"
"No," she said with a weak groan.
"Liar." I popped the button on her shorts because I had to touch her.
The muffled sound of Damian's voice and knock startled us both. "Hey, is everything okay in there?"
Erica's eyes flashed open and she lurched out of my arms, almost falling on her ass. She struggled to compose herself, refusing to look at me while she snapped her shorts shut. I caught a glimpse of white lace and almost passed out when all of the blood in my head rushed to my dick.
"Everything is fine. I'll be right out," Erica yelled with a bright tone.
"Okay," Damian said.
I released the breath I'd been holding when he shuffled away. "Come here," I said.
"Not going to happen."
"Don't pretend. You're just as turned on as I am," I said gesturing between my legs.
"I am not," she huffed.
"That wet spot on your shorts says otherwise."
She glanced down and gasped when she saw the darkened spot on the front of her jean shorts. I almost laughed, but stopped myself, because her hands were clenched into tiny fists.
"That was a mistake," she said, rushing to the sink. She pulled lipstick from her pocket and tried to ignore me when I came up behind her. I had half a mind to shove my hands down her shorts to prove it wasn't a mistake.
She slid the lipstick across her lips with trembling fingers, staining them a pale pink. I was jealous of that damn tube. "You need to leave before Damian starts to wonder what the hell we're doing in here."
After placing both hands on the counter, she glared at me through the mirrors. What was it with bathrooms and this chick? I wanted to force her over the counter, fist her hair and fuck her from behind. Something told me that wasn't going to happen.
"We're not done talking about this."
"If you want to be my friend you won't say anything to Damian," Erica said.
"Only if you promise we'll talk later."
"Fine. I promise," she muttered. "Now get out."
"Erica, do you really think you should eat that?" my mom asked while she applied a third coat of mascara.
I swallowed the cheese ball with a little slug of champagne and popped another in for good measure. "The food here is fantastic," I mumbled with my mouth full. I grabbed a piece of artisan bread, slathering a hunk of butter on the flaky center.
"You've been eating non-stop since you got here," she said.
The vow renewal was scheduled to start in an hour. While my mom put the final touches on her hair and makeup, I lounged in her room imbibing in champagne and the complementary platter that had been delivered. I had been dressed and ready for hours.
After the bathroom incident, I had escaped to my room, too turned on to return to the table for breakfast. I hadn't even made it to the bed or shower. I'd dropped my shorts and brought myself to orgasm, with my back up against the door to my suite.
What was wrong with me? I'd hopped onto Dante's lap and ridden him like a sex-crazed lunatic. Granted, it had been more than a year since I'd so much as kissed a man. Convincing myself that my behavior was a symptom of sexual frustration and nothing more had grown increasingly difficult over the last few hours.
"Is that wise with your upcoming commitments?" my mom asked, interrupting my thoughts.
The diamonds dripping from my mother's ears and neck refracted the sunlight streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Coupled with the floral headband that played off her auburn hair and the sheer white robe, my mom looked like an old movie star from back when it was called the silver screen.
"I don't have any upcoming commitments."
My mom's face fell for a fraction of a second before all the Botox kicked in. She set her mascara down and turned to face me.
"What do you mean?"
"I quit."
"You quit what?"
"Everything."
After blinking several times, she rose and paced in front of me, her long legs chewing up the carpet. My mom still had a banging body for a woman in her fifties. God bless my genetics.
"Erica, I'm confused. You mean you quit Hot Shots?"
"Nope. Everything. I told my agent I was done. I have a few things to finish up, but then I'm done with the fashion industry. Forever."
"Darling, why didn't you discuss this with me or your father?"
Because I knew what you would say. And there was no way I was going to let you talk me out of it.
My mother
took a lot of pride in my status as a model. It was another testament to how far she had come from her trailer park days. She'd been waitressing at a local diner in a small town when my dad stumbled in one night with several of his drunk friends. They hit it off, and my father rescued her from a life of poverty and low social standing.
"I'm an adult. I don't have to discuss my decisions with you or Dad."
"But, but"—she sputtered—"what are you going to do for money? Where are you going to live?"
"I've been saving since last year, and I still have all the money Grandpa left me. Damian said I could live with him for a few months."
"You're going to move to Seattle with your brother?"
"I'm just going to stay with him until I find a place of my own."
"So, you plan to remain in Seattle indefinitely?" The high-pitched hysteria creeping into her voice was almost comical.
"I'm not sure yet. I'm going to take some time to figure all that out," I replied with a shrug.
"Why can't you do that in New York? You shouldn't make any rash decisions right now."
"It isn't a rash decision. I've been planning my exit for over a year. I want to finish my degree."
My mom shuddered and threw her hand over her chest like I had proposed the most ludicrous thing. "Why don't you find a nice man to marry? You're stunning and young. You could have any man you want."
I smoothed down the silky material of my magenta halter dress. I didn't want to find a man to support me. I wanted to find a man who loved me for more than the way I looked draped on his arm. A man like Dante.
The way he had pulled me between his legs and tugged me down for a kiss had felt like coming home. I'd wanted to spend the rest of the day rediscovering those lips. If my brother hadn't come along, who knew what would have happened in that bathroom. All of the things that I wished had happened had me flushed from cheek to toe.
"Erica, did you hear me?"
"Oh, uh, yes. I'm sure that one day I'll find a nice man to marry."
That seemed to pacify her and she resumed her seat in front of the vanity.
"You know Dante is still single. Thank God he never let some gold-digger sink her claws into him. His signing bonus alone was reported to be in the millions. Apparently, he has been very responsible with his money since leaving the NFL."
