He nods his head as he goes to walk off to his room but stops and turns to face me. “By the way. Ashlyn. Good job!”
I go to speak, but my phone rings. I pick it up when I see it’s my mother. My muscles tense as I answer. “Hello?”
“Hello, Julian.” She calls me by my first name, and my teeth clench. She’s the only one who calls me that, and she knows I hate it. She just doesn’t give a fuck!
“Mother,” I say tightly.
“I’m having lunch with Vicki, and she brought up the Christmas Gala. She had mentioned that she was free, and I told her that I know you don’t have a date for it.”
It’s only May. “Mother—” I growl.
“You know that you look better with a woman on your arm.” She interrupts me. “And her father is hosting it with Timothy.” She also calls my father by his first name. “Both companies would do well with the publicity.”
She always does this. This is how she thinks. She isn’t as committed to my father’s company as he is, but if it doesn’t do well, then she doesn’t get all the perks of being married to a billionaire. She’s just as money hungry as he is; she just prefers to spend it instead of working to make it. “You mean to stage a fake relationship,” I say, already shaking my head.
She laughs as if I’m funny. It’s fake. Everything about her is fake. “It doesn’t have to be fake.” I can almost hear her rolling her eyes. “She is perfect for you—”
“Stop, Mother,” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose. It’s too early to fight with her.
“One second,” she says, and I sigh. I know exactly what she’s doing.
“Ryder,” comes the voice that makes me feel like I’m running my nails down a chalkboard. It literally gives me a headache every time I hear it. Which is why I avoid it. “Happy birthday,” Vicki says with a sigh as if she misses me. I don’t miss her.
“Thank you,” I say dryly.
She laughs lightly like I’m funny. “I came by to see you this morning, but your doorman said you were out of town.” I can hear the disappointment in her voice. “I called your mother, and she suggested we have lunch instead.”
Of course, she did. A silence falls over the phone as if she’s waiting for me to tell her where I’m at. I don’t. My mother doesn’t even know where I’m at. My father knows where I am, but she’d have to actually speak to him in order to get that information.
“Well, I’ll let you talk to your mother again,” she finally says. “Happy birthday.”
Moments later, I hear my mother’s voice. “So we’re good for the gala?” she asks. Still no mention of my birthday.
“No. We’re not good,” I say, and I hear her small intake of breath. “Quit trying to set me up, Mother. I can get a date.” Then I hang up. We rarely say goodbye and never say I love you. I only use that word with Becca. She’s the only one who truly deserves it.
I place my phone in my pocket, completely forgetting about my mother and that entire conversation. I don’t give her any more time than she deserves.
I look out the living room windows and frown when I see it’s now raining cats and dogs outside. “Well, so much for going out and sightseeing today,” I say although I really couldn’t care less.
“Yeah, just our luck, huh?” Jaycent asks as he sits on the couch, flipping through the channels. He doesn’t mention the call with my Mother. He knows all too well where she and I stand. “The only good thing is that we’re in a five-star resort with a full bar and kitchen. So we can drink all we want, and if we don’t wanna cook, we can order room service.” As he finishes speaking, he brings a bottle of beer to his lips to take a drink.
“True,” I mutter, going into our kitchen and opening the fridge. That’s the other best thing about getting the penthouse suite. It’s like a home away from home. Literally. The spacious kitchen overlooks part of the living room and half the dining room. If I look straight ahead, I see nothing but floor-to-ceiling windows that usually showcase the ocean, but right now, I just see the dark clouds and rain. It’s beautiful, really. I have always loved the ocean and have even been debating on buying a beach house for a couple of years now. Although I don’t want one in a popular area. I would much rather it be secluded. Yeah, that is a dream of mine. Someday, it will become a reality.
A knock on our door gets my attention. I go and open it to see my sister standing there with an annoyed Conner. “Come in,” I say, moving aside. I shut the door and pause as I ask, “Where’s Ashlyn?”
“Don’t you mean Sasha?” Conner says, and I clench my jaw. Annoying little shit!
“She’s still asleep,” my sister answers, ignoring him before she goes and plops down on the couch. “I went to tell her we were heading up here, and she said she’d be up later.”
I watch my sister and Conner sit next to one another on one of the couches. I can tell Conner isn’t happy. His lips are in a thin line, and his eyes are narrowed in anger. I couldn’t help but laugh at what Ashlyn did this morning at breakfast. I find it refreshing when a woman takes up for herself. Even though I’ve had to save her from actually getting her ass kicked twice already, she doesn’t hold anything back.
“Want a beer, Conner?” I ask, trying to be nice to the guy. If we’re gonna be cooped up together all day, we might as well try to get along.
Without answering, he gets up from the couch and walks over to the kitchen. I hand him a beer. He yanks it from my hand and doesn’t even bother to thank me. I should have spit in it.
“Sis? What would you like to drink?” I ask, drilling holes into the back of Conner’s head as he goes to sit back down with her. He didn’t even bother to wait in the kitchen to take her something. Being nice to him will be harder than I thought. In an odd way, they remind me of my parents. But Conner is my mother. The uptight and moody one. My father isn’t the best husband, but he never disrespects my mother. He just chooses the one thing that has never let him down—his career.
“I’ll take a water,” she says, answering my question. I grab her one and take it over to her before she can get up. She smiles and thanks me.
I plop down on an oversized brown chair and sink into the material with a sigh. “So how are things going in Seattle?” I ask her. “Only one more week there.”
“I bet you’re ready to leave that gloomy city,” Jaycent says before taking one last drink to finish off his beer and then getting up to head to the kitchen.
She shrugs. “I like it there.”
“Fucking hate that city!” Conner speaks as if we asked him his opinion. “It rains every day!” He looks toward the windows that overlook the ocean. Still nothing but rain. “If I wanted to be holed up in a living room all day, we could have just stayed there,” he declares, looking back at her.
I watch her sigh deeply. She must feel me watching her ‘cause she looks over at me and gives me a small smile. “Well, I’m glad you like it there, but it’s gonna be awesome to have you back in New York. Especially since you’ll be in the same building as I am.”
A glass breaks in the kitchen followed by Jaycent’s voice. “Dammit!” His head pops up from over the kitchen counter. “I’m okay. Just dropped my beer,” he announces.
“I know,” she answers, ignoring him. “It’s gonna be like old times again.” My father bought her an apartment in the same building as mine for her graduation present. I think it was his way of telling her it was time to come home. He has always supported her dreams, even if she changed them five times, but he would never actually admit that he hated she went off to college. My mother, on the other hand, gives her opinion on the matter all the time. She felt her baby should have never left home. She thinks that since we are well off, Becca didn’t need to attend college since she never went herself. But Becca is nothing like her.
“And it’s gonna be even better since it will be the three of us.”
Anger sets in as I tighten my hand around my beer bottle. “Three of us?” There’s no way in hell my father will allow Conner to move
in with her. He’s not stupid. He knows they have sex. Hell, they live together in Seattle. But my father doesn’t pay for her place in Seattle, and he would never buy her an apartment and allow him to live there and not pay a dime. My father is all for women making a living for themselves and having a career, but he’s also old school. Men work and make a living to support their family. But real men don’t just lie around and live off another man. My father and I both fear that has been his plan with her all along.
“Ashlyn. She’s coming with me.”
All anger fades, and I find myself grinning like a fool. So little Miss Priss will be living in the same building as I do. You know how easy that will make it when I wanna get lucky? All I’ll have to do is have her come on up.
I mean it’s not as if it’s hard for me to get a piece of ass. I have friends like Ashlyn was talking about. The ones you hook up with and then just hang out with. But to have one right there. And well, Ashlyn was like a fucking high. As soon as we would finish, I was already ready for another round. She couldn’t keep her hands off me. While most women are soft and sensual, she was rough and needy, and I liked it. She’s not the only one who has physical reminders of what we did last night. Mine just aren’t as visible. I have marks down my back from her nails. Bite marks on my chest and hips. She was wild. Fuck. Now, I’m hard.
Reaching behind me, I grab the decorative off-white throw pillow from the chair I’m sitting on and place it on my lap. Maybe I should take another shower.
ASHLYN
When I wake this time, I feel more rested than I did earlier. I also notice that my room is dark. I frown as I rub my eyes. How long have I been asleep? Picking up my phone next to me, I squint when my screen lights up. It takes a few seconds for my eyes to focus, and once they do, I sit straight up. “Shit!” I’ve slept most of the day away. It’s past four o’clock.
Looking back over at the large window, I realize why I slept for so long. The rain reminds me of home and makes me sleep like the dead. I open my messages and see I have a few from Becca. One is telling me that they went on up to Ryder’s penthouse suite. And the other ones have been over the last couple of hours, asking where in the hell I’m at and to hurry my ass up there.
I throw off the massive down comforter and crawl out of bed. I make my way to the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. My hair is a crazy, curly mess. I had just thrown it in a ponytail wet when we went down for breakfast this morning and then removed it when I went back to take a nap. So now, it has air-dried, and it is wavy as hell. I flip my head over and put it up in a messy bun on top of my head. A few loose pieces fall to the side, and I just leave them there. There is no use in trying to fix it, unless I wash it again, and then dry and straighten it. I’m not in the mood to take that long to get ready.
Walking back into the bedroom, I dig through my unorganized suitcase, throwing things out of it here and there until I find my white Pink sweatpants. I pull them up and tie the pink drawstring. I then find my white sports bra that zips up the front. I go back to digging through my cluttered bag to find a Pink tank top. After placing that on, I put on a lightweight jacket that matches. I have an obsession for Victoria’s Secret. Like it’s really, really bad. If they ever start selling heels … well, let’s just say I’ll have to get a second job.
I top off my I don’t give a fuck look with some mascara and nude lip-gloss and walk out of the hotel room.
I send a text to Bradley as I’m in the elevator on my way up to Ryder and Jaycent’s room. He had text me earlier while I was sleeping to ask how things were going with the douche. I gladly tell him about him having an accident. I’m laughing at the memory when Ryder opens his door for me to enter.
“What’s so funny?” he asks.
“Just reminiscing,” I singsong.
I watch his eyes sweep me over and then a smug smile appears on his face. “Me too.”
I roll my eyes as I walk over to their couch. “Where have you been? You missed like six episodes of The Walking Dead,” Becca informs me.
I plop down and sit cross-legged on the couch. “Oh, please. Like we haven’t seen every episode a hundred times.” Okay, so maybe a hundred is an exaggeration, but it’s been a lot. “Why are you drinking water?” I ask as I spot her water bottle in her lap. “We’re on vacation. We’re supposed to be drinking—” My words are cut short when Ryder stands in front of me, offering me a beer.
“Alcohol?” he finishes with that smug smile still on his gorgeous face. I’ll give it to him; the guy is even hotter today than he was last night. His plain white t-shirt hugs his muscular arms and large chest. His jeans sit low on his hips, and I can’t help but notice he’s wearing the same belt that left marks on my arms this morning. I swallow as my body starts to heat up.
“Thank you,” I say, taking it. I tip it up to my lips and take a sip.
“Becca isn’t much of a drinker,” he then adds as he sits in a big chair.
I laugh. “That’s what you think.”
He looks over at her. “What? Now you drink? You used to get on to me all the time about drinking.” He looks at me. “Our parents were out of town one week. It was like the one time my father took off work to take our mom on vacation alone.” He takes a quick drink of his beer. “We couldn’t go because we had school.”
“You couldn’t miss school because you were failing,” Becca says. “Don’t tell the story and change parts.” She laughs.
“I wasn’t changing it. And I was failing because I had been suspended earlier that semester.” He waves his hand in the air. “Anyway, we are off topic. They went out of town, and we stayed behind. They put me in charge of taking care of Becca and making sure she made it to and from school. Well, I was so proud of myself that I wanted to celebrate by throwing a party that weekend. My sister said she promised she could keep a secret, but the moment our parents walked in the door, she squealed like a banshee.” He gives her a glare.
She starts laughing and places her hand up. “In my defense, I had to.” She looks over at me. “The maids didn’t clean up everything.”
“I think they did that on purpose,” Ryder mumbles.
“Some drunk chick that my brother was sleeping with ended up puking all over my bedroom.”
“Ewww,” I say grossed out. “You didn’t make her clean it up?” I look at him.
He just shrugs. “I didn’t know she had done it. I never went into my sister’s room.” He narrows his eyes on Becca. “And Becca didn’t even mention it until our parents came home.” I can tell from the sparkle in his eyes that he’s just messing with her. “Anyway, Mom and Dad were pissed, and I got in big shit. All Becca did was talk about how bad alcohol was and that I should cut back. How she was never gonna drink when she got older.” He rolls his eyes.
“I was eleven.” She looks over at me. “But that party was awesome,” she says with a sigh, looking into the distance as if she’s reminiscing. I follow her eyes and see that they are on Jaycent, who stands over by a bedroom door while texting on his phone. I’ll have to remember to ask her what in the hell is with her and him when we get back to Seattle and Conner isn’t around. Speaking of Conner ...
“I hate to even ask, but where is Conner?” I’m afraid just mentioning his name will summon him.
“His father called. So he went out into the hallway to talk to him,” Becca answers.
I frown. “He wasn’t out there when I got off the elevator.” Ryder and Jaycent have the penthouse suite. There’s only one very short hallway before you arrive at their hotel door.
She jumps up off the couch and storms to the hotel door, pulling her cell out of the back pocket of her skinny jeans to no doubt start blowing up his phone.
“Are they always this way?” Ryder asks me.
“Yep,” I say, lifting the bottle to my lips and keeping my eyes on the muted TV.
An hour later, we are still sitting in the same seat and haven’t spoken another word. Jaycent eventually sat down, but his phone has c
onsumed his attention. I’m guessing a woman. Nothing else could keep a man’s attention for that long, and for the first time since I met him, I wonder if he has a girlfriend.
I look down at my empty beer bottle and get up from the couch. I dump it in the trash and then open the fridge. I’m bent over at the waist when I hear Ryder behind me. “What are you looking for?”
“Something other than beer,” I say, not turning around. The fridge is fully stocked with food, but I want something a little stronger than beer.
I reach out and grab a jar of pickles that look awfully delicious. He sidesteps me with a raised brow as I place the jar on the counter. I twist it open and take one out. I take one of the fat dill pickles and bite the tip of it.
He stares at me with heated dark green eyes. I take another bite, a bigger one this time, pushing it in deeper than the first time. Teasing him. “Enjoy having big things in your mouth?” He smirks, referring to how I woke him up this morning.
“Too bad I’m always left disappointed.”
The smile drops off his face, and he takes a step towards me. I don’t move. Even if the counter wasn’t behind me, I wouldn’t back down. I like fucking with him. I also like him fucking me. “Two words. Sex. God.” He repeats what I told Becca.
I roll my eyes as if that’s ridiculous. “Women have to exaggerate to their friends. Just like when a woman fakes an orgasm,” I say simply. “They go hand in hand.”
He snorts. “You weren’t faking anything with me, baby.”
“Guess you’ll never know,” I say, tilting my head to the side with a sly smile. “We made a rule; one night. I don’t plan to break it.”
He reaches out, wrapping an arm around my waist, and yanks me toward him. I suck in a deep breath when I feel his hard cock pressing into my lower belly. Don’t think about it, Ashlyn. “Oh, I know.” He lowers his head to my ear and whispers, “I like how you dressed up for me.” His free hand also comes around; his large hand covers my ass cheek and squeezes. Hard. A shiver runs through me. “But it doesn’t matter what you wear because I know what you have to offer.” He thinks I dressed like to this to appear unattractive. Typical guy. Thinks everything we do is for them … Oh. He starts trailing kisses down my neck. “I know you had every intention of leaving this morning and never seeing me again, but I have a confession to make.” Both his hands leave my body. His eyes meet mine as he reaches up and unzips my jacket. The heat in them makes my legs weak and my pussy wet. Once opened, he pushes it off my shoulders, and it falls to the floor. “I wanted to have you at my mercy again.”
Selfish Page 10
