He looks offended at first and then a sly smile spreads across his face that makes him look like the Cheshire Cat. “Wanna be a fourth?” His deep voice has dropped to a seductive tone. The one I’ve heard him use on her all the time. It makes me want to puke.
His question should surprise me. Instead, I just respond with, “No, thanks. As you’ve heard, Brad takes care of all my needs.” Without another word I place my earbud back, looking down at my book. The douche reaches over and closes it on me. I try to hide my laughter at his immaturity, but a snort comes out instead. I pick up the book and put my tray table up. We should be landing soon for our first layover on our way to Florida. I bend over to grab my backpack from under the seat in front of me and put the book away. I’ll save it for later this evening when I’m alone in my room. Putting it away, I notice a package of Double Bubble in my backpack. Smiling as I reach in and open it up before popping a piece in my mouth. Smacking my gum as loudly as possible, I turn up the volume on my phone. He wants to be a dick. I can be an even bigger bitch! Some heavy metal band blasts in my ears while chewing the gum like an overcooked piece of steak while popping bubbles the size of soda cans.
I look over at him; his almost black eyes narrow on mine and his jaw is tight. “Did you want a piece?” I ask. It must have been loud because he takes a quick look around the packed plane. He goes to open his mouth, but I speak before he can. “Sorry, this was my last one.” I return to my smacking and try not to choke on it as I hold in my laughter. The douche needs to date a woman like me in this world; he wouldn’t survive more than a week.
I once dated this guy who was like him. I honestly didn’t care that he slept with other women ‘cause we weren’t exclusive, but I don’t care who you’re sleeping with, you still treat me with respect. He didn’t so I taught him a lesson.
“Happy birthday.” I say, pulling him behind me.
“Where are we going?” He asks with the blindfold around his eyes. Couldn’t chance him seeing all the cars parked outside on my street.
“Almost there. Promise.” I say, trying to hold my laughter.
He stumbles behind me and says a few choice words as he trips over rocks and a lawn chair. I bring him to a stop and yank off the blindfold. He blinks a couple of times and looks around my backyard. “We’re in your backyard.” He states the obvious with a tad of disappointment.
I nod. “My parents are out of town. Thought we would go for a late night swim,” I say with a naughty smile. I know he can’t resist it.
Smiling he grabs my face and kisses it. “You’re the best.”
Liar! But I roll with it. “Just wait till you see your next surprise.”
“There’s more?” He asks, his face lighting up.
I nod. “Come on.” I reach down and lift my shirt up and over my head, leaving me in a nude-colored bra. He has his shoes, shorts, and boxers off before I can undo my shorts. Lastly, he rmoves his shirt and jumps in, splashing water all over the place.
I smile as I reach down and grab all his clothes. I turn and start to walk away. “Where are you going? I thought you had another surprise for me?” He laughs.
“Oh, I do.” The lights to the house and backyard come on, lighting it so bright that he has to squint.
“SURPRISE!” Fifty people yell all at once as some of them come out the back sliding glass door. Some are hanging over the balcony on the second floor outside of my bedroom. Some even come through the side gate into the backyard. Gotta love social media.
“What? What the …?”
“Happy birthday, baby,” I say, blowing him a kiss.
“What the fuck, Ash? What are you doing?” He demands, standing in the shallow end.
I take a deep breath and sigh feeling satisfied. “Smell that, Dave? That’s karma. And it smells delicious.” That will teach him to tape us having sex behind my back. A friend of mine told me that she overheard her boyfriend talking about the tape. Apparently, he only showed it to three of his friends. Although I’m thankful it wasn’t the entire school, I had to do something to pay him back. And now, I have his phone in the pocket of his shorts. The electronic device that contains the recording. I win!
Everyone is pointing and laughing at him. He bends down into the water, making his way to the deep end. “It’s cold.” He says defensively.
“No. It’s just small.” I say entering the house, heading straight for the garage. I’m about to take a hammer to this phone. Now, that is a scene I don’t mind being recorded.
Yeah, Conner wouldn’t last a week.
CHAPTER THREE
RYDER
“Leslie,” I say in a high-pitch tone caught by surprise. “What are you doing here?” I shut the door to my high-rise apartment and Jaycent passes the half-dressed woman sitting on my kitchen table to walk to the living room. Giving us privacy.
“What do you mean what am I doing here?” She sticks out her bottom lip. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“How in the hell did you get in?” I live at the Q’s. It’s an upscale apartment building in downtown Manhattan. These apartments go for millions of dollars. When you purchase one they give you a key card that unlocks your door, but it also has to be scanned for the elevator to even move. And I sure as hell didn’t give her one. My mother doesn’t even have one. I don’t like surprises, especially unannounced visitors.
“I told the doorman that I was meeting you here and that you had told me to go on up.”
“Why would you do that?” I demand.
She frowns. “Baby, I wanted to surprise you for your birthday. I didn’t think you would mind.”
I look down at my watch and sigh. I don’t have time for this. We still have to run by Jaycent’s apartment to grab his bag. At least, he is already packed, but he’s also on the other side of the city. Good thing it’s on our way to the airport.
I storm off toward my room as I explain to her that I’m not staying long because I have a plane to catch.
“I could come with you.” She doesn’t even know where I’m going.
Now, let me tell you what I love most about women: the way they smell is number one. The way they touch you is an easy second. I even love the way they go on and on about things that don’t even matter. But the thing that turns me off—the one thing that drives me nuts—is someone who is clingy. A woman who acts like she has to have a man by her side in order to feel complete. I mean this is the twenty-first century. Don’t they know that their worth is more than the man they want to follow around like a little lap dog? I like a woman who can take charge. One who knows what she wants and works hard to get it. And none of those statements has to do with sex. What I like in the bedroom is a totally different ballgame. But these days, the women I know can’t seem to differentiate between being submissive in the bed and being submissive to men in general everyday life.
My father is a billionaire. My sister and I attended Le`man Manhattan. One of the country’s most prestigious schools, it has two different campuses that house students from more than fifty different countries. Once I turned twelve, my mother started trying to marry me off to one of her friend’s daughters who attended school with me. I’m pretty sure if my father would have allowed it, she would have had me in an arranged marriage.
My mother still calls me all the time to ask if I have found the one. And every time I tell her no, I hear the disappointment in her voice when she reminds me that Vicki is still available.
Trust me when I say she’s not the one I want. She falls in that category of women who have no drive. Her father is wealthy just like mine is, and like my mother, she has no career or desire to better herself. If I ever do settle down, I want someone with drive and ambition. Which is someone who is willing to do more than lie on their back and spread their legs. I mean, yeah, that can be fun for a one-night stand or something to play with for a while, but what happens after that? I want a woman who is as goal oriented as I am. I want a woman who can stand in a crowded boardroom and make a statement tha
t says hey, I know I have tits and an ass, but you’re going to give me all your attention because I fucking deserve to be here!
“Ryder …?” Leslie whines once more as I yank things out of my dresser drawers. I toss them onto the bed and walk into my bathroom as I hear Leslie follow me. “Please.”
“No!” I finally snap, grabbing my bathroom bag still packed and sitting on my bathroom counter from my trip to California. I pick up my toothbrush that sits beside it from this morning and toss it in. I take a quick look at myself in the mirror and frown when I see the scruff on my face. I haven’t shaved in a few days. My chest can’t grow a single hair, but if I don’t shave my face for one day, I’m a gorilla. But it’ll have to wait because I don’t have the time.
“Why not?” She says as I turn and go back into my bedroom. I sigh heavily as I place my hands on her shoulders to gently move her out of my way. She’s not only begging, but she’s also crowding me. Every time I turn around, she’s right there. “It’ll be fun.” She says in that high-pitch woman voice.
“We’re taking a guys’ trip.” I tell her. She doesn’t know that I’m going away to see my sister and I’d like to keep it that way. The girls like Leslie— the one standing in my bedroom with a teddy on who grew up like my sister and I—were handed everything. Even when her father, Luke Hahn’s, business was circling the drain he still did everything he could to maintain her standard of life. So when they don’t get what they want, they cry about it, and that drives me crazy. When will they understand that I’m not their daddy and I couldn’t care less how much they beg? Unless it’s for my cock, of course, then by all means . . .
“Well, I can be one of the guys,” she says, pushing out her bottom lip that I know she gets injected every five months. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not dogging it. They still suck my cock pretty damn well; they just don’t have any other effect on me unless she’s on her knees.
“Not with these, you can’t.” I grab her overly large breast implants that are poking out the top of her nightie and she hisses in a breath as if the single touch alone has her wanting to come. Which is a lie—I know how hard I have to work in order to get her off.
I look across the room and realize all this pictures she sent were taken while lying on my bed. “How long have you had this planned?” She asks, placing her hands on her hips.
“It was a last-minute decision.” I lie to her.
“What about your birthday? Did you forget that it’s tomorrow?” She asks as she walks up to the platform that surrounds my king-size bed and plops down.
“No. I’m well aware.” How can I forget when everyone keeps reminding me? They all seem to think that twenty-nine is some magic number.
She rolls over onto her back and looks up at me. “I was gonna stay the night and then fix you a birthday breakfast. One you could eat off me.” She says softly as her pink lips widen into a naughty smile.
“Can I take a rain check?” I ask. “We can celebrate it next weekend if you want.” I’ll cancel, but at least it will pacify her for now.
She jumps up onto her knees and nods her head quickly. “Whatever you want.”
I hear her phone ring and walk towards my closet while she answers the call. Yanking some t-shirts off the hangers and then stuffing some jeans in the bag as well. I finish packing the bag quickly.
I undo my black slacks and shove them down my legs before placing a pair of blue jeans on. My fly hangs open as I turn around to grab a shirt when I see her standing at the entry of my closet. Her arms folded over her chest, I see tears start to glisten in her eyes. Not the soft, you’ve-broken-my-heart tears, but the kind that holds hatred.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, taking a step toward her but she holds up a hand to stop me.
“What’s wrong?” She yells. “What’s wrong is my father just called me.”
“Leslie …”
“Don’t you Leslie me, you son of a bitch!” She screams.
Dramatic much? “I can explain …”
“You bought my father’s restaurant. What is there to explain?” She cries. “I told you that in confidence, Ryder!”
“It’s just business,” I say with a shrug. “Your father just became a millionaire.” I guess he didn’t tell her how much he made from the deal.
“And you’re just a fucking prick!” She screams and slams my closet door shut. Then the lights go out, leaving it pitch black.
“That’s real mature.” I sigh heavily. I make my way to the door, open it up and storm after her to the front door. Jaycent watches from the couch in amusement as he tries to hide his smile. He fails miserably.
“I was an idiot to even get involved with you.” She sniffs as she yanks her purse off my kitchen table.
Involved? That sounds more like a commitment. I run a hand through my hair before I speak. “You told me how much it was bringing your family down. You told me he wanted out. That it was ruining their marriage. What is so bad about making him an offer he couldn’t refuse?”
“You blackmailed him.”
I roll my eyes. “I did not. It was strictly business. The money …”
“That’s what’s wrong with all of you.” She looks from me to Jaycent and then back at me. “All you care about is what you can buy. Nothing to you holds value.” She hastily puts a long jacket on to cover herself up.
I should say I’m sorry. I should say hey, have your dad call me. We can make a new deal where we won’t bulldoze his restaurant and turn it into a luxury hotel. But I don’t apologize. Especially for something that will make me money. Instead, I say something that matches her assumption of me. “Does this mean I can’t cash in my rain check breakfast next weekend?”
She bares her teeth at me, letting out a growl right before she slams the front door.
ASHLYN
Have you ever realized just how relaxing the beach is? How your once tense muscles just relax and all those pesky responsibilities that your mind keeps reminding you of just melt away? Is it the fresh ocean air? The sound of the waves hitting the shore? The way your feet sink into the sand? I don’t know which one does it for me, but it’s extremely therapeutic.
I’ve lived in Seattle all my life and although it’s surrounded by water and ferry boats, it’s nothing like Panama City.
“I wanna move here!” Becca sighs heavily as she looks longingly at the blue water rolling in. We haven’t been here for more than three hours and already, this feels like home. Like this is where I belong.
“Let’s do it!” I say without thought.
She looks over at me with a smile on her face; the soft wind blows her light brown hair around. “You make it sound so easy.” She turns to face the ocean once again as we sit in the sand. I have no problem ignoring the drunk idiots stumbling around and laughing. “You know our lives will never bring us to Florida. Not permanently anyway.” She says with sadness.
I shrug as I watch a young couple making out as they stand waist deep in the ocean. The sun is starting to set in the background. “Who says we have to move to Florida? We can go anywhere now that graduation is over.” I rub my palms together with excitement. The couple out in the waves gets my attention as she jumps up and wraps her legs around his waist. He then pulls her head back by her wet hair and deepens the kiss. I watch longingly as I wish that were me. I sure could use some ocean sex. I’ve never done that before.
“And New York?” She asks, getting my attention. I go to open my mouth to tell her plans can change, but before I can answer she shakes her head. She continues to just stare straight ahead at the waves or maybe she is gazing at the couple who is about to go all the way and doesn’t care who is watching them. “Besides, Conner hates the ocean,” she states as a matter-of-fact. “He hates the smell of dead fish. He hates that the sand clings to his clothes. He hates—”
“Well, we hate Conner,” I interrupt her. She laughs but doesn’t reprimand me like she usually does. “Where is he, anyway?” I ask, looking around the crowded beach. Not that
I miss the douche but I’m just curious where in the hell he went. He left us the moment we came down to the beach.
I try to think of all the fun we’re going to have this week, but the fact that she brought up Conner has my mood changing. The fact that he hates the beach makes me want to bury his ass in the sand up to his mouth and let the crabs pinch him. Or stab him with a straw and toss him into the ocean for a shark to have for dinner. Now, that would be a legitimate reason to hate the beach. It makes me smile as I imagine him screaming like the little bitch he is.
“He said he had to go use the restroom.” She answers my previous question. “But he’s been gone for a long time.” She tilts her head to the side as if she just realized this. Sitting on the beach time can get away from you.
I stand up and dust the sand off my jean shorts. “Let’s go get a drink.” I offer to try to keep her occupied and not wondering where in the hell he wandered off to. I can already see her mind churning as she tries to figure out what’s taking him so long to pee. I mean all they gotta do is whip it out, wash their hands, and go.
I lean down and reach for her hand. “Come on.” I say with a smile. I pull her to stand and turn our backs to the ocean. Little makeshift huts that have been turned into bars litter the beach for miles. They are literally only feet from the water at some parts. This is heaven if you ask me. The beach and alcohol all in one place; it doesn’t get any better than this. Well, unless you add the beach sex.
“What can I get you?” A shirtless man with dreadlocks asks as we walk up to the little circular bar.
We lean against it, and I place my clutch purse and cell phone on it. “How about a shot of tequila?” I ask Becca with a smile. I’m ready to get things rolling. We’ve already been on the beach for an hour, I haven’t had a drop of alcohol yet and the sun is already going down. We spent almost seven hours of our day getting here plus the time change. I’m ready to start this vacation.
Selfish Page 4
