One New Message (A Dark Romance Novel)

by Vivian Ward

  I open my thighs wider, allowing him to fully penetrate me, and he does. He feels so good inside me. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I pull him closer to me as he continues penetrating me. At a steady pace, he glides himself in and out of me, taking his time. Not too fast, not too slow.

  The tension is continuously building, and I just know that when I cum, it’s going to be amazing. The warm sun is bathing our bodies while the cool breeze carries away the heat.

  “Deeper,” I whisper into his ear. “And harder.”

  “Anything for you,” he says back.

  Thrusting into me, he picks up his pace and goes deeper, harder and faster. The excitement within me is building and climbing. I’m not going to last much longer.

  I look at his biceps at each side of my head and notice that his muscles are bulging and his arms are shaky. Just as I look at his face, I can feel his back beginning to tighten. He’s close. So close. Just like me.

  Wrapping my legs around him tighter, I start bucking my hips, matching his rhythm. In a tangled, sweaty, heaping mess, our breathing is ragged, but neither of us is giving up.

  “Come on, baby. Cum for me. And I’ll cum with you,” I bite his earlobe as I hiss my final words.

  My back hits the ground, and his thrusts become more powerful than ever. I look down between my thighs and can see him sliding in and out of me, stroking his cock with my pussy. It’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve seen in…forever. Tightening my legs back around him, I command him to fuck me harder.

  Without missing a beat, he rams into me and within minutes, our excitement is shared as we find our release together.

  Panting and out of breath, he collapses on top of me until we can breathe again.

  “Do you see what you do to me, woman? Damn,” he says, removing his undershirt. “Here, clean up with this.”

  Smiling, I wipe myself off as he tosses the condom into a garbage pale that’s about ten feet away before he makes his way back over to me. “Thanks,” I hand it back to him to wipe his excess sperm off of himself. “You do the same to me, you know?”

  Section break

  “Come on, Joline. There’s nothing to be scared of,” he pats the seat beside him.

  I’ve always been terrified of heights. And going fast.

  Okay, fine. I’m terrified of rides.

  They’re scary as hell, and I’m always afraid I’ll die. The cart—my cart—will fly off while I’m on the ride and throw me into my death. The soles of my feet and palms of my hands are sweaty, and my heart is racing a mile a minute. It’s a wonder how he even managed to talk me into standing in line to ride the damned ferris wheel.

  “C’mon, lady. Ain’t got all day,” the carnival worker says to me.

  “Joline. I would never let anything bad happen to you. I’ll keep you safe,” he interlaces his fingers, pleading with me.

  I look at him then glance at the man running the ride, unsure of what to do. I know the fear in my mind is irrational. How many thousands, probably millions, of people, ride these things a year? And how many die?

  “Shit or get off the pot,” the man scowls at me.

  Taken aback by his choice of words, I huff and march past him.

  I’ll show him who’s boss around here.

  I sit in the seat beside Trent and slam the bar closed across our laps.

  I ain’t afraid of you or anybody.

  I want to stick my tongue out at him, but it seems kind of immature. He presses the button and sends us up two spaces before the cart stops. I grab onto the bar with all my might as I stare at the ground below us.

  Shit! We’re up in the air now. There’s no going back. Shit. Shit. Shit! What did I get myself into?

  My breathing is shallow, and I’m scared to death. I imagine that the cart I’m sitting in will rock itself off the hinges, splatting the people on the ground below us.

  “It’s okay, Joline. I’m here. I won’t let anything happen,” he reaches over and takes my hand in his. “You’re safe with me.”

  “I’m safe with you?” I ask, nodding toward the ground. “What are you going to do if we fall?”

  He laughs. “We’re not going to fall.”

  The ride takes off and goes up a few more carts, we’re nearing the top, and I feel like I’m going to puke. Closing my eyes, I start silently praying.

  Please don’t stop at the top. Please don’t let us get stuck at the top. Please don’t….

  I open my eyes when it stops, and we’re at the very top. The cart gently rocks back and forth, making me fear that it’ll tip all the way over and I’ll fall out. My feet are so sweaty that I feel electrical tingles shooting through them. My breathing is becoming more labored, and I feel like I’m suffocating.

  When I realize that I’m having a panic attack, Trent offers me a warm embrace as he wraps his arm around me and holds me snug against him.

  “It’s all right,” he whispers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that you were this afraid.”

  “I just want to get off,” I plead.

  “It’ll be over before you know it. Just a couple of rounds.”

  The ferris wheel starts moving again, and I can feel my stomach tighten as bile rises in my throat. Something happens on the third round. Trent takes my hand in his, and a sudden calmness comes over me. For the first time, I’m at peace. The ferris wheel isn’t so scary, and I begin to relax.

  Next thing I know, I’m laughing and giggling. The panicked sensation in my stomach is replaced by tickling butterflies, and it’s so fun.

  Glancing over at Trent, I can’t help but smile at him.

  “This is great! It’s so much fun!” I laugh, feeling my stomach drop as the ferris wheel turns for another spin.

  The perfect ending to a perfect night is when he walks me up to the front door. Not because he has to, but because he wants to. And because I need help carrying a giant stuffed bear that he won for me by playing an impossible game of darts.

  Chapter 8

  Present

  The sun is spilling into the room, demanding my attention to wake up.

  I’ve never been an early riser. Ever since I was a little girl, I have loved to stay up all night and sleep late in the morning. Today is definitely one of those mornings. I feel like hell.

  My head is pounding, and my breath is atrocious. It tastes like booze and maybe like a little something died in my mouth. Whatever it is, it smells and tastes awful. Probably the worst morning breath I’ve had in a long time.

  My eyes flutter open and scan the wall as I lie flat on my stomach. The wall doesn’t look familiar. I have never seen this striped wallpaper in my life.

  My heart begins thumping in my ears so loudly that it deafens out any noise that I might have heard when I first woke up.

  Where am I? How did I get here? And how many damned drinks did I have last night?

  Grabbing my forehead, which feels like it’s going to split in half, I carefully sit up in the bed. Looking down, I see that I’m not wearing the gown that I had on last night.

  I’m wearing a man’s shirt!

  I see a patch of brown hair beside me and smile. How sweet of him to take care of me in my drunken state last night. He was probably a perfect gentleman, carrying me up to the room and changing me so I’d sleep more comfortably.

  He’s so cute when he’s sleeping.

  Still smiling, I begin rubbing his back and after a moment, he rolls over and faces me.

  Shit! Oh, shit! No, no, no!

  It’s Zack!

  My heart drops when I think of what I must have done last night.

  Everything starts coming back to me in a blur as I begin piecing everything together. I remember him being at the wedding, I remember seeing him at the reception, and I vaguely remember dancing with him.

  What else happened? Come on! Think! What did Slutty Joline do last night?

  I turn the palms of my hands toward my face and begin rubbing my eyeballs as my fingers massage my temples in hopes to g
et rid of my headache. Picking my brain, I try to focus on Trent. Where was he? What was he doing? Did he see me leave with his brother? Does he know that I left with him and that we probably fucked all night?

  Shit. I’d slap Slutty Joline right in the face if only my head didn’t already hurt so bad.

  A hazy vision starts to fill my memory of me dancing with Zack and Trent being mad about me dancing with his brother. Thinking harder, I remember Trent telling me he was going to get his keys…and then I left with Zack through the back door. What did we do next?

  Stirring in the white sheets, a sleepy, groggy Zack awakens and smiles at me. His teeth are just as perfect as his brothers, and his flawless skin and messy hair look so gorgeous in contrast to the bed linens.

  “Morning, beautiful,” he drapes his arm around my waist.

  Pulling the sheets snug around me, I try to cover myself as best I can.

  “Morning.”

  Do I dare ask him what we did last night? Do I admit that I had too much to drink and that I don’t remember a damned thing?

  I’ve never drunk so much that I passed out. Honestly, I didn’t think I had so much to drink that I would pass out.

  I must have been overwhelmed by everything that was happening. My brain must have finally had a melting point where it just had to shut down.

  “Want some breakfast?” He asks, walking across the room to the large executive desk in his boxers. I’m not sure how to answer him. I don’t know that I can after seeing his magnificent ass. He’s got to work out. Picking up the phone, he nods and holds the receiver toward me. “Breakfast? Last call.”

  “No,” I shake my head. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

  “Suit yourself,” he shrugs and orders enough food to feed three people.

  After hanging up, he makes a beeline for the bathroom and turns on steaming hot water. Small clouds of steam are rolling out of the bathroom as he takes a shower. I remain frozen in bed, unable to speak until I hear room service pounding on the door.

  “J-just a minute!” I call out. Shit! I’m only wearing a shirt, and I don’t even have pants to put on. Looking down at myself, I see how huge his shirt is on me and realize that it’s not so bad. You can’t really see anything underneath it. Opening the door, I politely smile, “Sorry. Um, my….,” I glance toward the bathroom where Zack is belting out a rock song, “my friend ordered, and I thought he’d be out of the shower by now. You can just set it over there.”

  The young man gives me a sarcastic smile with his eyebrow cocked. He thinks I’m full of shit. There’s no ‘friend’ in the shower. There’s a half-naked man in there, singing the chorus to a song that’s obviously stuck in his head. I can see how this must look to an outsider and quickly dismiss him from our room.

  Everything smells amazing, and now I wish I would have ordered something because my belly is starting to growl at me. Zack walks out of the bathroom with a white towel neatly tied around his waist while he uses a smaller hand towel to dry his hair.

  “Oh, good, it already came. I’m starved!”

  He plops down on the bed next to me and begins to dig in. I watch as he inhales his food, wondering how I should try to slip out without making too much of a scene. I don’t want to sound like I am making excuses by saying, “Oh, sorry, I’ve got plans today,” but I also don’t want to sound desperate and wait for him to ask me to leave.

  “You want a bite? The sausage is extra crispy today, and the bacon is cooked perfect,” he holds up a piece of sausage after he stabs it with his fork.

  Some food might help cure this nasty hangover that I have, but I don’t want to impose. “No, thank you. Actually,” I glance at the alarm clock, “I had better get going.”

  “Kay,” he wipes his lips with a napkin before he picks up his glass of water. “We still on for tonight? You promised me.”

  Tonight? What’s tonight? What did I promise?

  “What? What are you—”

  “Joline, don’t tease.”

  “I’m not. What are you talking about?”

  “Remember? Tonight at ten?”

  I’m racking my brain trying to figure out what he’s talking about but I don’t have a clue. Slowly, I begin shaking my head no.

  “At Rigozzi’s?”

  “Nope. I don’t have a clue.”

  “We’re going to Rigozzi’s to play cards tonight. You’re going to be one of my spotters again, right?” He can tell that I still don’t know what he’s talking about, but the alarms are already going off in my head.

  A spotter? Me?

  When it comes to counting cards, there are two groups: the spotters and the big players.

  The spotters sit at the table playing cards and bet the minimum, careful to never fluctuate their bet while they’re counting cards. When the deck gets hot, they signal the big player over to their table and let them know that the odds of them winning are favorable. The big player comes and bets big money—thousands of dollars—and play until the deck cools, then they leave and wait for another deck to get hot at a different table. There are typically several spotters and a few big players to each group, but cheating like this can get you killed.

  I’ve seen them a million times while working in the casino, and I can’t imagine me doing something that risky. That dangerous. But if it happened while I was with Zack last night, I can believe it. There’s something about him.

  He can get me to do just about anything.

  “I, um,” my mouth is suddenly dry, and my brain is blank. I can’t think. I can’t talk. “Um, I-I can’t do that. It’s too much of a risk. Too dangerous.”

  He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me on top of his lap, stroking my hair as he caresses my skin. My heart is pounding, and I can hear it in my ears.

  “Joline,” he gazes into my eyes. “It is safe because we’re careful. My crew takes very few risks, and we’ve been doing it for such a long time.” He pauses, watching me. “Last night you did such an amazing job with my crew. They all really liked you.”

  “What?” I ask. “What exactly did we do last night?” My head drops and I look myself over. It can’t be good considering that my dress is gone and I’m wearing his shirt.

  Laughter bursts out of his mouth as he takes my hand in his. “I promise. I was a complete gentleman.”

  “Then tell me what happened. Why did I leave with you? What did you say to me? What did I tell you? I want to know it all.”

  “When we were dancing, you seemed over the moon that I could get you out of your mess, and you were ready to leave with me right then and there, but my brother stepped in and refused to let you out of his sight. That’s why I had you leave with me through the back door when he went for his keys because it was the only opportunity that I had to get you out of there before you got in the car and left with him.”

  It must be evident that I’m as lost as ever. He reaches over and rests his hand on my arm.

  “We left the reception, and the two of us went to a club that I like to frequent. You were telling me how badly you needed money and I told you that I could help you out of your financial dilemma; put an end to all of your money problems now.”

  “I don’t like where this is going, but I’m listening.” As he continues talking, I start having vague memories of being in a club. They were more like small ‘glimpses’ or ‘images’ in my head when I first woke up that I had initially thought I must have been dreaming, but now I realize that they weren’t ‘visions’ of any kind. They are memories from last night.

  Confused, I’m still not sure what happened after that. After all, pictures speak louder than words and I’m half naked, wearing his shirt. He catches me glancing down at the shirt of his that I’m wearing.

  “And before you ask, no, we didn’t have sex.”

  “What?”

  “I saw you looking at yourself. We didn’t have sex.”

  “Then what did we do? I’m so confused,” I begin rubbing my temples. If the damned room would just stop sp
inning, everything would be so much better.

  “You were my spotter last night at Rigozzi’s. You did an amazing job which impressed the hell out of me. You have no idea how wasted you were, and if you can do that well when you’re plastered, I’d love to see what you can do when you’re sober.”

  Bile begins creeping its way to the top of my throat, and I can taste acid in my mouth. I think I’m going to be sick.

  “I did what?”

  Suddenly, hearing that we didn’t have sex is the least of my worries.

  Please tell me that I heard him wrong. I did not go to Rigozzi’s last night, I did not count cards, and I didn’t do an amazing job at cheating.

  If the guys at Rigozzi’s figures out what we were doing, they might come after us! They’ll track my ass down and then I’ll be done for!

  “Joline, I know you’ve always been a good girl, lived an honest life, but you’ve got something in you. There’s this…,” he puts his hand on my face and holds it against my cheek. It feels like pure electricity against my face and my nipples harden at his tender touch. I never had any idea that a giant man like him could have such a gentle touch. “Spark about you. I don’t know what it is, Joline, but I can see it. It’s always been there. Hiding. Lurking. It’s your dark side, and it’s calling out to me. It’s like you know how to work spells. Like black magic shit. I’ll help you if you help me.”

  How much did I tell him? I can’t believe I agreed to this. He knows fucking everything. Every. Single. Thing.

  I want to run. Hide. Never turn back, but it’s too late. I’ve already crossed that boundary. That imaginary line.

  The one that says you don’t cheat the house. The one that says honesty is always the best policy. The one that says you sure as hell don’t play games that put you in the middle between two brothers.

  Even though nothing happened between us, we didn’t have sex, I feel like I’ve cheated on Trent. But I didn’t. Did I? If we didn’t do anything wrong—sexually—then why do I feel so guilty.

  “I, um, appreciate your offer, but I can’t help you count cards. When I worked in the casino, I saw what they did to—”