I’d reassured him that Josh was harmless, that I was not going to fall victim to his cock-wielding ways, and that he wasn’t my type and, therefore, I could handle his brazen attempts to bed me. I’d dealt with guys like Josh before—well, maybe not quite like Josh—and it wasn’t the first time I’d been pursued by someone with one thing, and one thing only, on his mind. I wasn’t a stranger to that trap; in fact, it was one of the main reasons I was looking for Mr Right and not Mr Right Now. I’d had enough of the games, hurt and disappointment that always came hand in hand with someone like Josh. I was tired of being let down and played. I wanted stability, loyalty, and to be everything my partner ever wanted and needed. I wanted to find my soul mate.
Now sitting by the hotel pool, a few short hours after arriving in Albury, I was making notes as to what pics I planned on taking at this evening’s show. My efforts were in vain though, as two things Matt had mentioned during the bus ride kept replaying in my mind: “He’s the most confused motherfucker I’ve ever met” and “You’re a hell of a lot smarter than who he normally fucks”. That last statement rang true, if the skank I’d caught him fucking up against the vending machine was anything to go by—she sure as shit wasn’t intelligent. And from the social media stalking I’d conducted before starting the job, I could tell the women he chose to spend his spare time with were definitely questionable in terms of cleverness. But the question currently bugging me was, why? Why did he choose women with inadequate substance, wit and attention spans? Why did he measure himself on those qualities, or lack thereof? Something wasn’t adding up. He was gorgeous to look at: physical perfection. And in the short time I’d known him, I could tell, despite his flippant attitude, that there was much more to him—much more to his level of intelligence. Call it a sixth sense.
One thing I knew for sure was that he had a way of getting under my skin, and I couldn’t for the life of me understand why. He wasn’t my type. He was too bold and rude. And he was a goddamn slut. Ugh!
Nothing about his impact on me made sense, because I wasn’t weak, narrow-minded, submissive or easily manipulated. Yet I wasn’t a prudish snob or stuck-up princess either. I was just plain and simple Cori: twenty-four years of age, blonde, blue eyes, milky-white skin—because the sun despises me—an arts graduate and freelance photographer and, thanks to two loving parents and a protective brother, I possessed intelligence and good decision-making skills. I was nothing special, but I did have a level head on my shoulders; therefore, allowing Josh to weave his iniquity into me was not only confounding but also very unlike me.
I had rules. Rules that he’d broken without even realising. Rules that I’d seemed to let him break. Strange.
“Sweetheart, fancy getting wet with me?”
Looking up, I shaded the sun from my eyes, squinting and finding Josh in a pair of board shorts with a towel draped over his shoulder.
“Um no, not really. I’m happy remaining dry, thanks.”
His devilish grin appeared, bold and unforgiving. “Wrong answer.”
Before I could comprehend what that meant, he’d scooped me into his arms, my notepad and pen slipping from my hands as he walked to the edge of the pool.
“What are you doing?” I shrieked, kicking and squirming.
“I want you wet.”
“I don’t want to be wet,” I growled.
His eyebrows rose. “Every woman wants to be wet.”
“No, they fucking don’t. Put me down!”
“You’re so sexy when you’re angry.”
“Josh!”
“Yes?”
“I mean it. Put me down!”
“Whatever you say.”
Cool water hit my skin, and the next thing I knew I was resurfacing from being submerged in the pool. “You arsehole!” I coughed, wiping my face as I treaded water.
He, too, had taken the plunge and playfully splashed in my direction. “Aw … don’t be like that. It won’t kill you.”
“I’m fully clothed, you idiot.”
“I’m not an idiot,” he snapped
“Yeah? Well I beg to differ.”
Swirling around with difficulty, my clothes restricting my movements, I swam toward the shallow end so that I could get out. Josh, however, was a faster swimmer and positioned himself in front of me.
“I’m not an idiot, Cori. I was just playing around with you, trying to loosen you up ready for tonight.”
“I don’t need loosening up,” I bit out, as I tried to step around him.
He blocked my way and nodded in my direction. “Clearly, you do.”
“Are you for real?” I shoved him. “You just threw me in a pool when I pleaded for you not to.”
Josh grabbed my arms and pinned them by my sides before spinning me around so that my back was pressed to his chest.
“What are you doing?” I protested, struggling to free myself from his grip and failing. It was no use—he held my arms pinned with one of his.
Josh leaned backwards and floated us to the deep end, holding me tightly, as if I were being rescued from drowning. “Just stop talking and relax.”
“Relax?”
Grrr.
I was trapped.
In his arms.
In a pool.
Fucking great!
“You’re so fucking uptight,” he murmured, his soft lips caressing my ear. “Is your sweet little cunt that tight as well?”
My jaw dropped. Oh no, he didn’t.
I struggled to free myself from his grip once again. “Let me go, you pig.”
“Just relax.” He chuckled. “And enjoy the moment.”
The heat from his breath tickled the skin on my neck, sending a thrill surging through my body, that thrill pit stopping at my nipples and pussy. Bad thrill. Bad, bad thrill. “I’m not enjoying the moment. How can I when I’m being restrained?”
Lies.
“You have no idea just how enjoyable being restrained by me can be.”
Ahh … I could guess. But you don’t need to know that.
Closing my eyes, I breathed in deep and then slowly exhaled, surrendering my tensed body because I had no choice.
“See? This ain’t so bad. Just chill and relax.”
“It is so bad. And I can’t relax.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re holding me prisoner. And because I don’t know where your arms have been.”
“My arms go where I go, so they’ve been where I’ve been. I can’t get rid of them. Sorry,” he said, his tone anything but apologetic.
Josh slowly swirled us around, the tiny waves of water assisting my newly formed lull.
“You’re such a smartarse,” I practically moaned, my voice now mellow, my body near relaxed. Damn it!
“I told you I wasn’t an idiot. A smartarse? Yes. But an idiot? No.”
“I meant it rhetorically. I don’t think you’re an idiot, but I do question your choice of lifestyle.”
He stopped the swirling motion. “What? Stripping?”
“No! Not stripping. I admire that. It takes incredible bravery and confidence to do what you and the other guys do. No, I meant sleeping around … your constant participation in a fuck-a-thon.”
Josh resumed the swirling but repositioned his hands, one of them settling on my lower stomach while the other clasped my shoulder—his thumb now gently grazing the side of my breast in a soothing motion.
I liked it … but I shouldn’t.
“Stop that!” I said without much conviction.
“Stop what?”
“Sexually assaulting me.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“If I wanted to sexually assault you, sweetheart, I’d do more than caress the side of your tits. Besides, I don’t sexually assault anyone. That’s not my thing. Ever.”
“Ohh, that’s right! You can have sex with whom you want, when you want.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
I scoffed
. “It is a bad thing.”
“I don’t see how.”
I scoffed again, this time louder. “You’re objectifying yourself and the women you fuck.”
“How so?”
“Because you’re putting absolutely no emphasis on the act.”
“Yeah, because there is none.”
“Let me get this straight. So what you’re saying is that you’ve never liked any of the women you’ve had sex with? Never felt you could share more than just your bodily fluids?”
“Yes,” he said resolutely.
My heart pounded. Silence. Why?
“That’s really sad, Josh,” I whispered.
“No. What’s really sad is the fact that the two of us are in this water and my cock is still in my pants.”
This time, I was able to wiggle free of his grip, planted my feet on the floor of the pool, and turned to face him. I then dipped my head back and wet my hair—God knew what it looked like. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Avoid conversation by being a sexist pig.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are!”
“Want to see me be a dolphin?”
“What?” I couldn’t help but laugh. His out-of-nowhere and completely ridiculous question had me forgetting what we were discussing … but only for a few seconds. “I know what you’re doing, Josh.”
“What? Avoiding conversation without being a sexist pig?”
Smartarse. “Yeah, that.”
He waggled his eyebrows before submerging himself. I peered down, wondering what he was doing and where he was going. He swam up against my legs and tickled my feet. I screamed and kicked at him under the water. He then changed direction and sprung up, breaking the surface and sounding an e-ee-e-ee dolphin noise before splashing down and submerging once again. My body wracked with uncontrollable laughter. It was the most stupid thing I’d ever seen a grown man do.
Still giggling when he came up for air, I watched as a childlike grin plastered his face. “So, how’d I do? Best dolphin impression you’ve seen, right?”
“No! Definitely not.”
“You think you can do better?”
My laughing stopped and I shook my head. “No.”
“Ahh, that’s right, you impersonate a chicken much better. Bok bok!” he taunted, falling onto his back and performing a backstroke to the end of the pool. He tapped the edge and turned, making his way back toward me, all the while continuing to bok like a chicken.
It pissed me off. Why? I had no idea.
“You have an unfair advantage. I’m fully clothed. You’re not.”
“Easy. Take you’re clothes off, sweetheart. We’re both adults here.”
I bit the inside of my cheek and narrowed my eyes. “Nice try.”
“Bok bok,” he taunted further.
“Fine! I’ll do it. Fully clothed. And if my impersonation is better, will you stop propositioning me for sex?”
“Yes.”
His confident answer surprised me. “Really?”
“Sure, because yours won’t be better.”
“Says who?”
“Me.”
“You can’t judge. That’s not fair.”
Josh stopped backstroking and stood, whistling and flagging down Lucas—who just happened to walk past at that moment. “Dimps, need your help with something.”
I rolled my eyes at Josh’s tactics, not to mention Lucas’s nickname. Granted, it was fitting—Lucas did have the most adorable dimples.
“What’s up?” he asked, as he rested his arms on top of the metal pool fence, his short blond hair catching the sunlight.
I gave him a docile wave and smile and he tilted his head, curiously.
“Oh, hey Cori. Forget to pack your bathing suit, eh?”
“Ha ha, very funny. No, I didn’t. Josh, here … ” I voiced with as much sarcasm as I could, “decided I wouldn’t need one before he threw me in the water.”
Josh clicked his fingers to get Lucas’s attention. “Focus. I need you to judge the best dolphin impersonation.”
“Riiight,” Lucas drawled, looking from Josh to me, me to Josh.
“This shit is serious, man. There’s a lot riding on it.”
Lucas shot me a confused look, so I nodded sarcastically at him, my eyes wide and my mouth pursed. “He’s not kidding.”
“Okaaay, let’s see them then.”
Groaning, I asked myself what the fuck I was doing. This entire scenario was absurd. Then again, if it meant getting Josh off my case, I’d be the best damn dolphin there ever was. You just wait, Man-whore, Flipper will want my dolphin babies.
“You first,” I politely said, waving my hand at the pool’s surface.
He fired me a shit-eating grin. “With pleasure, sweetheart.”
Ugh!
I watched yet again as Josh sunk, swam around, and then pushed off the bottom, springing out of the water with a high-pitched ‘ee ee’. And, like before, it was hilarious and made me laugh. Oh my God! I can’t believe I’m doing this.
Josh resurfaced, and pulled his body out of the water to sit on the edge of the pool.
“Not bad,” Lucas said with a nod.
“Thanks, man.”
“Nah, I mean it. Great dolphin. Gonna be tough to beat.”
I groaned.
Lucas grinned in my direction, the grin full of amused anticipation. “So what ya got for us, Cori?”
“Get that stupid look off your face. And for the record, I hate you both right now.”
Lucas raised his hands above his head in a show of defence. “Hey! Leave me out of it. I’m just the judge.”
“Whatever,” I grouched, directing my not-so-impressed scowl at Josh. He just lifted his chin and waved. Cocky prick.
Taking in a deep breath, I lowered myself under the water and pushed off from the wall, swimming to a spot I thought was perfect for my propulsion. I felt the bottom of the pool with my hand and positioned my feet, stubbing my toe in the process. It hurt … like hell. What it also did was turn my dolphin impersonation into one of a gurgling, crying, this-dolphin-just-got-bitch-slapped-by-a-seal disaster. It was so bad that I knew I’d fucked it up before breaking the water’s surface. I knew this because I’d felt anything but graceful in my attempt. My toe was throbbing immensely, I was choking on the water I gurgled on, and when I did finally breathe in air, both Lucas and Josh were laughing hysterically.
“Sorry, Cori. But that was the worst dolphin impersonation I’ve ever seen.”
“It’s not funny,” I sulked, rubbing my closed eyes while blindly trying to reach my foot with my free hand. “I stubbed my toe.”
“Excuses, excuses,” Josh murmured into my ear, his close proximity shocking me because I’d thought he was still sitting on the edge of the pool. “You lose.”
My eyes shot open. “That’s not fair. I want a replay.”
“Nope. I win.”
“What’d ya win?” Lucas asked.
Staring me straight in the eye, Josh answered resolutely, “Cori is gonna fuck me.”
“I am NOT!” I objected, shoving him in the chest and turning toward Lucas. “He’s lying. I’m not”
“Uh-oh. That’s my cue to leave.” Lucas spun on his heel and headed back to his room. “Sorry, Cori,” he called out, “but you suck as a dolphin.”
“Screw you,” I called back. “You suck as a judge.”
“Don’t be angry with Dimps.” The weight of his arm casually rested on my shoulder. “A bet is a bet.”
I turned to face him. “Whatever. You can proposition me all you want, Josh Adams, because I. Will. Not. Have. Sex. With. You.”
A sinister smile crept in at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, you will.”
Josh wouldn’t accept that his penis was not going to make friends with my vagina. I’d even gone so far as to explain why, as if I were talking to a fourth grade student: “You see, Josh … sometimes penises and vaginas don’t get along. And that’s
okay. Not all genitalia have to be friends. They can be civil and keep to themselves, as they should in a professional relationship like ours.”
He’d replied with, “My penis is very friendly, though. He’s friendly with every vagina he meets. He doesn’t want yours feeling left out or discriminated against.”
At that point, I knew I was wasting my time. It was also the point at which Brad and Noah simultaneously pool-bombed us, prompting me to exit the water, head back to my room and get out of my soaking—and more than likely—ruined clothes.
I’d since showered and made myself presentable in a pair of aqua Chucks, skinny jeans and a black silk blouse, and was heading out of my hotel room when I collided into a strong, hard chest—that chest belonging to Brad.
“Shit, sorry. We really must stop doing this,” I apologised.
He furrowed his brow for a second then smiled. “No, we mustn’t. I’m enjoying the feel of our bodies attempting to become one.”
I playfully punched him in the arm. “They’re not attempting that, Brad.”
“Don’t believe it, not for a second.” He crossed his arms over his chest in a show of light-hearted stubbornness.
I rolled my eyes at him and changed the subject. “So where are you headed?”
“Dinner and pre-rehearsal. You?”
“I was just about to grab a bite to eat in town and maybe do some late-night shopping before heading to tonight’s venue.”
“Nah, don’t do that. Come to dinner with me and the rest of the guys instead, then hang around and snap some pics of the pre-rehearsal.”
Taking photos prior to the show sounded great; the shots would be in good contrast to the bells and whistles of the live performance, but I didn’t want to encroach on their pre-show ritual this early in the tour. “Thanks, but you guys have your thing. I don’t want to get in the way. Maybe I’ll just pop by to snap some quick shots before the show starts.”
Revue Page 5
