Sweetest Sin: Bad Boy Bundle

by Delilah Wilde

  On these awful pictures.

  I bury the flash drive back in my pocket, wipe a tear from my cheek, and head up to the lady behind the counter. I hand over my now expired ticket, my ID, and a pitiful look in my eyes.

  “Oh, looks like you missed your flight,” she says.

  “Yea. I’m. I’m sorry. I did. Can you tell me if there is anything I can do?”

  “Well, we do have another flight leaving for Los Angeles, but not until tomorrow night. And the only seat available on that flight is one in first class. Which will be a four hundred dollar bump in price.”

  I stare at the counter and drum my fingertips. “You know what. That’s fine. Here,” I say as I hand over a credit card. “I’ll take it.”

  “Great!” she says in the happiest, bubbliest tone she can muster up to annoy me with. Her fingers tap at her computer, she swipes my card, and hands me a new ticket.

  I paste the best fake smile I can muster onto my lips and nod. “Thank you very much.”

  “Have a great day, Miss Anders. It looks like we will be seeing each other again very soon!”

  I nod my head again and dart back out of the airport. By the time I hop back onto the shuttle, I am near to tears. And now I have to figure out where I’m going to stay the night. Because there’s no way in hell I’m going to sit and wait in the airport that whole time.

  Back at the same hotel. With the same front desk. Yet somehow, none of the same smiles. “I’m sorry Miss Anders. If we had known you would be coming back we would have been happy to make accommodations. Unfortunately, we’re already overbooked. We just don’t have the room for you.”

  “Look, if it’s a matter of money, I can pay—.”

  “No, Miss Anders. It’s not the money. We really just don’t have the room. I wish there was something I could do. I can recommend another hotel to you. My cousin works at this one. It’s very nice, but it’s further away from the beaches so there are less tourists there. They might have room.”

  He slides a business card across the counter at me.

  “Okay. Thank you very much for your help, such as it is.” By now I am out of smiles. I just need a bed and a glass of wine.

  The shuttle ride into the city seems long and uncomfortable. I keep trying to tell myself that this is a good thing. That all of this means an extension in paradise. And how bad can that be?

  There’s another line. Another group of people standing between me and sweet, sweet slumber. And to top it all off, the man in front of me is taking his sweet old time. I roll my eyes at his fedora, thinking about how stuck up and ridiculous he must be.

  When he finally moves out of my way, I step up to the counter and lay my ID on top. “Hi. I just need a room. Just any room.”

  “Okay. We have rooms available. But it’s a VIP suite. The cost is $800 per night.”

  I choke at the words eight hundred. He can’t be serious, can he?

  “I’ll cover it,” a voice calls out from behind me.

  I clench my eyes shut and shake my head. I already know who it is. How am I supposed to react to Jackson showing up like some knight in shining armor and paying for my hotel room after that spectacle at the airport? Slowly, I turn around to send my glare his way.

  Okay. Maybe not shining armor. Maybe a knight in blue jeans and a sweaty white tee shirt.

  “No thanks,” I mutter and turn back to the man at the front desk. “Look, I missed my flight, and they booked me onto another flight but that one doesn’t leave until tomorrow. So I just need any room. It doesn’t have to be the best room. Just any room.”

  “I’m sorry, Ma’am,” he says.

  I already don’t like him.

  “But the only rooms we have available are all VIP suites. We can move you into a less expensive room tomorrow after people check out.”

  I take in a deep breath and lay my forehead on the counter. This just can’t be my life right now.

  “Here,” Jackson says as he passes a credit card over my shoulder.

  The front desk clerk swipes the credit card with a smile and passes along the paperwork. A few humiliating moments later, he hands over a key and asks if I would like to be helped to my room.

  “No. Thank you,” I say as I grab my bags for what feels like the hundredth time and head over to the elevators.

  I didn’t even bother thanking Jackson for the room. I suppose I should. But the blend of anger and embarrassment grips me and holds me in smoldering silence. I just hope I can get upstairs and find my room before he’s done getting his room so he can’t come after me.

  No such luck.

  Of course, I had plenty of time to lose him. I just got lost. So while I’m wandering around the hotel lost and searching for my room, Jackson finishes checking in and I run into him on the elevator.

  “Oh. Hi. I thought you’d be locked up in your room by now.”

  “Yea so did I. But I ended up getting off on the wrong floor by accident.”

  He stifles a chuckle and moves over in the elevator so I could step in with my bags.

  “So, you want to explain to me about why you lied about who you were?”

  “I never lied to you.”

  “Right. You just didn’t tell me the truth.”

  “I told you I quit my job. And that’s the truth. There was no reason to tell you anything else.”

  “Really? No reason at all?”

  “Fuck you, Jackson. Do you honestly think that if I was just after a story I would have bothered sleeping with you?”

  “Then why not tell me who you were?”

  “There was nothing to tell! I came here to get on vacation. To try new things. To get away from everything! And now, thanks to you, I’m stuck here.”

  “But if you knew who I was then why didn’t you just tell me who you were?”

  “I didn’t know who you were.”

  “Oh please. You honestly expect me to believe that a reporter covering the San Bernardino shootings didn’t know who—.”

  “I didn’t know. I didn’t know because I wasn’t there to cover the shootings. Junior reporters don’t cover things like that. They cover shit like dog weddings and are the parasites living in your water. I was in a class. The Department of Public Health was holding a training event. And during the lunch, I noticed the holiday party so I snuck in. When that shooter showed up. And instead of sitting in that class, bored, learning about who knows what and writing out pitches for new stories. Instead of living my boring life. I had to sit there while people showed up and started killing other people. I had to hold my ears to block out the sound of gunshots. I had to watch people die. Die! Junior reporters don’t cover terrorism.”

  Jackson’s mouth hung open. Fixed and dumbfounded. Tears sting at the back of my eyes yet again. My chest aches and I’m starting to lose control over my breathing.

  I’m about to lose it.

  As if the universe sent me an act of mercy, the elevator doors open before the tears could break free down my cheeks. I grab my bags and dart out of the elevator to search for my room.

  Of course, I can’t count on Jackson to leave me alone. I don’t know if he’s trying to annoy me or trying to comfort me. Either way I can hear his footsteps against the hard carpet behind me. Each step that carries him closer to me thumps in my clenching stomach.

  I need to get away from him.

  Finally, I find my room and swipe my key along the lock.

  Locked.

  I try again.

  Still locked. What’s going on now? Why is the universe trying to punish me?

  Jackson grabs my arm. “One question. Just one. Why does the newspaper think you stole data?”

  “Because technically the flash drive that I had with me is theirs,” I say between weak breaths. “A few months ago, I was taking an extra journalism class, looking for a promotion. And I had to buy some supplies. Only I didn’t have my card with me. So I put the charge to my friend’s card. Except that then she got promoted and she put it on her new ex
pense account. She said it was fine as long as I paid her back after. I practically forgot about it, but after I quit she…she reported me. She said she didn’t have a choice. And she said she can fix it all if I go back to work. But even if I wanted to, I can’t. I’m here.”

  Jackson grabs the key from my fingers and calmly slides it through the lock. The light on the handle turns green and finally turns to open.

  “So. You really don’t have anything then?”

  “No. Not really. I have a few pictures of the shootings. But. I didn’t want to go through it. I didn’t want to hand it over while it still had all my homework and stuff on it. But I couldn’t bring myself to go through it.”

  “So you took pictures of the attack?”

  I nod my head and step into my room, holding the door open so Jackson can follow me.

  Instead of walking into the room he grabs my shoulders and pulls me into his chest for a hug. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

  “Don’t bother,” I say as I push away from him.

  “Kirsten.”

  His eyes really do look apologetic. I’m sure he means it. And without explanation, the tears I’ve been trying to fight back come pouring out. I have no idea what’s happening or why I’m crying. It’s like his apology gave my tears permission to finally fall, and now I can’t bring them back under control.

  Jackson takes in a deep breath and steps into the hotel room. “Come on,” he whispers and closes the door behind him. He sits down at the small table and pulls out his cellphone. “This is my sister, Ericka.”

  I lean over to look at the picture displaying on his cellphone.

  “She was working that day.”

  “Oh my God.” I grab the cellphone from his hand. “She was there.” I stare at Jackson.

  “Yea. She was.”

  I grab the seat next to Jackson and wipe my tears. He stares at the cellphone, a fake smile plastered on his face.

  “She survived the initial shooting. Died at the hospital later. But no one remembers her. Everyone remembers the shooters. You know? The pricks who walked into that building and decided to shoot up people just because they were celebrating a different religion. You know? As if killing a follower can kill a God.”

  “So why sue the police?”

  “They should have been there. You know? That’s their job, to protect federal buildings. But no one was on duty. They weren’t there the way they were supposed to be there. And maybe if they had been. I mean, I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter. The D.A. said that there was no proof the police did anything wrong. There’s no proof that if they had been there that they could have stopped them sooner. Saved more lives. And what really sucks is no one will remember the people they hurt. But those sons of bitches, they’re going to be famous. And for what? Famous for what? For hating us?”

  I grab his shaky hand. “I get it,” I whisper.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Ugh,” he groans as he rubs his eyes. “You might get it now. But like you saw, not everyone does. Trying to sue the police department backfired big time. Now I’m a laughing stock. People at my company don’t trust me. I’ve become that guy. You know? That rich prick who sues everyone for anything. You know? Like the lady who sued that fast food place because their coffee was too hot.”

  “No. I get it. You’re not. It’s not.” I forget all the words in that moment. My entire vocabulary vanishes and I’m left a blubbering idiot with dried tear streams pulling my mascara down the length of my cheeks.

  He laces his fingers through mine and brings my hand up to his lips. Blinking away any emotion from his eyes. “Would you like some coffee?” he asks.

  I giggle and nod my head. “That would be great. Thank you.”

  Jackson kisses my hand and places it down on the table to go find the coffee pot. Unlike the last hotels, whose coffee pot brewed about the amount for two cups, this one was a full size coffee pot. And instead of plastic cups, this one included full size, logo imprinted ceramic mugs. As he fills the pot with water and tears into the packet of coffee grounds, I walk over to wrap my arms around him.

  Kiss his shoulder blades.

  He stops moving and leans his head back. His eyes closed as I press my lips along the muscles of his back over and over again.

  Jackson takes in a deep breath as I glide my fingertips up along the front of his torso. The shivers ripple through his body and run along my skin. He spins around on his heels, His hand cupped along the side of my face.

  Neither of us need to say a word. Primal lust fills his eyes. I lean up on my tiptoes to brush my lips against his. His tongue reaches out to glide along my lower lip.

  He wraps his hands around the side of my face and pulls me up to him for a deeper kiss. His tongue penetrating my mouth and coaxing my tongue out to play.

  To dance with his.

  To venture into his hot mouth as he moans with lustful pleasure.

  He leans down and scoops me into his arms. My hands glide along the rippling muscles in his shoulders as he carries me over to the bed.

  And lays me down.

  All the while his tongue massaging mine. All the while purring deep. He tangles his fingers into my hair, brushing it back from my neck. His lips locked with mine.

  Everything else disappears. The gurgles of the coffee brewing fade into an obscure melody. Harmonizing with his groans as he suckles at the nape of my neck. Jackson’s hand reaches into my shirt. Rubbing along the nipple and sending lightning straight to my core.

  I throw my head back.

  His hot mouth follows the path cleared by his fingers. Suckling along my flesh. Releasing a new wave of goosebumps.

  New moans surface as his lips wrap around my nipple.

  Every nerve catches fire as he sucks at my breast.

  I close my eyes and grip the pillow next to me. My fingers claw into the pillowcase. Jackson doesn’t let up. His tongue draws my nipple deeper into his mouth.

  Licking.

  Rubbing it along the roof of his mouth.

  Flicking.

  I’m dripping. Juices flowing and soaking into my panties at his mere kiss.

  Despite the past few days together, everything feels new. Exhilarating. Every touch sends shivers running through me.

  I reach under Jackson to grab the bottom of my shirt and pull it up over my head. He stops my hands just as my shirt ties itself around my eyes. Gripping my wrists behind my head. Only my nose and my mouth have access to the air.

  He licks my lips. Dipping his tongue in and out of my mouth. And again, he wraps his lips around my breast.

  He sits up and positions himself between my legs. I don’t even try to unwrap my hands from my shirt. All of my attention is taken by his fingers unfastening my jeans as he kisses my stomach. Jackson pulls them off easily. Leaving behind my throbbing pussy covered with only a thin layer of soaking wet silk.

  Jackson slides his hands along the curves of my legs. Squeezing at the muscles of my thighs. Evoking more moans from me as he leans over.

  I clench every muscle in my core. Already I can feel the heat building up toward a release, and I’m not ready.

  I may never be ready again. Every piece of me revels in his touch.

  His finger slides my panties over, and a hot tongue glides along my slit.

  My moan grows stronger.

  Another lick.

  A quick flick along my clit.

  I tighten my grip on my shirt still covering my eyes.

  My panties slide over further as his tongue rubs against the folds of my pussy harder.

  “Oh my God,” I whisper.

  Jackson sits up and pulls my wet panties off, leaving me writhing and naked on the bed. My hands still tangled in the shirt blindfolding me.

  My nerves exposed to his every whim.

  His finger traces along my opening. The warmth of his breath grazes along my tender flesh.

  I can’t tell if he’s trying to make me cum or trying to make me wait.

  His
tongue flicks from one side of my slit to the other. My breathing gets deeper.

  Stronger.

  I’m not sure which happens next. I moan as he drives his finger deep into my waiting pussy. The muscles in my backside tense up, lifting my hips off the bed. He lays his other hand on my stomach, applying pressure as he withdraws his finger and runs it through again.

  And again.

  In and out, his fingers glide.

  His moans are soft and controlled compared to mine.

  In and out again. His fingers fill me. Bringing me just to the edge of nirvana then stopping all together,

  Then he stops.

  Oh. God. He stops.

  Why is he stopping?

  I hold my breath. Listening to the symphony of zippers and soft grunts happening over at the edge of the bed.

  His soft lips wrap around mine again. His tongue darts between my lips and dances with mine. As he lowers his body on top of mine, I kiss him back.

  He tugs the shirt off my eyes, releasing my hands. And I immediately wrap my arms around him. My nails bite into his back as he edges the tip of his cock into me.

  Slowly.

  His thick, hard cock fills me. Gliding along the edge of my clit as he sinks into me. Driving my every nerve to the edge.

  Jackson’s breath falls out of rhythm, His cock plunges into me as his elbows collapse. He sinks his head into the mattress next to me as he pushes deeper into me.

  I grab his hair into my fist. Rocking my hips against him. Every time his cock tries to slow down I grind harder. Grabbing the small of his back and pulling him into me.

  Moaning with each plunge.

  Groaning.

  His cock stiffens.

  My pussy floods and tightens. Every muscle ripples. Milking him.

  “Oh. God.” I yell out.

  His hot breath grazes my neck.