The Bachelor Beach: The Love Connection Series - Villa One

by Ryan, Shari J.

  To the top of his roller coaster.

  Noah flips me over and lifts my body to rest on all fours, taking me from behind. His hands are on my hips, and from this position, I can feel every inch of him hitting every inch of my insides.

  I press my face into the pillow beneath me, biting the fabric for relief as his body slams against my backside over and over. One of his hands moves beneath me, adding to the pleasure with small gestures from his fingertips. I feel like I’m the mechanical bull and I’m completely out of control, ready to buck him off my back without warning .

  Minutes pass before both of us become limp and fall to the mattress. We’re covered in sweat, both breathing heavily, wanting to do nothing else but stay in this place for as long as possible.

  “I made you ruin everything,” I say, my voice crackling through every word.

  “No, you didn’t,” he corrects me. “I didn’t get where I am in life by breaking the written rules. I’ve gotten to where I am by bending the rules and walking around them, living on the edge, and teetering, but never falling off the side.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but it’s hot, whatever it is.”

  “You don’t have to worry about anything,” he assures me, kissing the back of my neck while tracing his fingers in circles over my spine.

  “Then, I won’t worry. I’m not fired, though right?”

  “Fired?” he questions with a snicker. “Hell, if I’m breaking all the rules, or bending them, rather, I’m giving you a damn promotion.”

  Chapter 22

  “This was premeditated, wasn’t it?” I ask, shuffling my toes through the sand as we casually make our way back toward the villas.

  “What gave it away?” he says, poking playfully.

  “The reserved hotel room,” I chuckle.

  “Actually,” he says, “I own that particular hotel room and rent the space out through timeshare. I knew no one was there this week.”

  “Sly,” I tell him.

  “Totally.”

  “I feel like I just ruined your chances of coming out at the end of this study you’re taking part in.”

  Noah wraps an arm around my shoulders. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

  “Do you hear that?” It sounds like a storm brewing in the distance, but if that’s the case, it’s a fast-moving system.

  Noah spins around, looking to see where the wind sounds are coming from. “Huh, it’s a helo. I wonder where they’re landing.”

  “A what?” I question.

  “Helicopter,” he replies. Noah takes my arm and leads me up the beach toward the street. “I don’t know where this guy is planning to land, but he’s too low to the beach to take the chance.”

  We make it up to the street in less than a minute, but we lose sight of the helicopter. “Do they land around here often?”

  “Not usually. I haven’t seen one land near here, especially not on the sand. That’s stupid.”

  We walk in the front entrance of the development. Being that it’s dark, the villas are all illuminated with the orange glow from the street lights. “Is that a limo?”

  The closer we come to the center of the development, I’m able to confirm I’m looking at a limo. “I wonder if that’s for Chad since he said he was leaving?”

  “I don’t know,” Noah says, sounding like he’s not paying attention to me, but trying to figure out what is, in fact, going on.

  The men come out of their villas, still dressed in their bonfire beach attire, and line up in their uniform two rows. Not again.

  A man in a tuxedo walks through the white arch-gate that separates the development from the beach. He’s middle-aged, with slicked back dark hair, and an unnatural tan.

  He’s walking toward us, and my stomach churns. Who the hell is this guy?

  “Shit,” Noah mutters.

  “Mr. James, Miss Spencer,” he addresses us, his hand held out in front of him. “Ronald Helga.”

  The name. I know the name. Bradley wrote his name down on that damn piece of paper the other day. Ronald Helga is Katarina, Kricket, and Krow’s father—the mastermind behind this.

  “Oh, so does that mean we’re soon-to-be in-laws or something like that?” I ask.

  When a man is in a tux, and I look ravished, it’s only appropriate to have no manners. Plus, this guy is a dick. Or so, I’ve been led to believe.

  “Yes, I suppose we can call it that,” he says, smiling with his mouthful of snow-white veneers.

  “Well, it is that,” I tell him, pressing my luck. My luck. My luck would be that he tells me to get the hell out of this development.

  “Mr. Spencer,” Ronald continues speaking as if I said nothing. “Tell me, son—you read the agreement carefully before signing your name to this study, correct?”

  Noah clears his throat, widens his stance and folds his hands down in front of his waist. “Yes, sir, I certainly did.” Noah sounds too confident for whatever this jackass is about to say. I knew I was going to cause him problems. I should have stayed away. He’ll resent me for this.

  “Right, well, the agreement said, we have the right to know what you are doing at all times, by whatever means necessary.”

  “Yeah, that part wasn’t very detailed. Shame on your attorney,” Noah responds.

  “Pardon me,” Ronald says, placing his hand on his chest.

  “You left a lot of loopholes open,” Noah continues.

  “Wonderful, have your attorney contact mine, once you have packed your belongings and moved out of my villa.”

  “No, you can’t tell him to leave. He lives there,” I argue.

  “Miss Spencer. I own all the villas in Bachelor Place, and I can decide whom I want living in each one of them.”

  “Why? For your stupid upcoming reality TV show, which totally plays off The Bachelor and The Bachelorette? Some might call that dumb.”

  “Some might also think making fun of it in a written form is dumb, but to each their own.”

  “Huh?” I question. I have no clue what he’s talking about. He must like to hear himself talk out loud with his rich fancy fake accent.

  “Mr. Spencer, again, pack your things and see your way out of this development by sunrise.”

  “You’re a joke,” I tell him as he turns away.

  “The joke is on you, dear. The Joke. Is. On. You.”

  Heat is rushing through me, and my chest is tight with anger and frustration. “I shouldn’t have let you do this,” I mutter to Noah.

  “Do what? Me?” he says, laughing to ease the subject.

  “It’s not funny.”

  “It’s a little funny,” he jests .

  “I don’t want you to leave,” I tell him, grabbing his bicep.

  Noah turns to face me and sweeps his hand across my cheek. “I’m not leaving yet. Give me until the morning. I’ll get this fixed.”

  “How?” I question, louder than I should have.

  “Most people don’t read the fine print, Ash, but—“ Noah leans forward and gently brushes his lips against mine. “I do. I read the fine print.”

  “Gentleman, thank you all for your devotion until this point,” Ronald addresses the rest of the men standing before him, waiting to salute the guy’s ass. “Carry on, but be aware, you could easily be next.”

  “Will they choose love or money?” A female’s voice echoes in the distance. Krow is standing on our front step, looking like a zombie as she stares out into the night’s sky. “Soon, we’ll all know the answer.”

  Noah walks me to my front door as the other men disperse and return to their appropriate villas. “Don’t worry, okay?”

  “That guy is an asshole,” I add in.

  “Maybe, but you don’t have to be an asshole to be just a little smarter than he is. Give me a chance.” Noah sweeps his arm around me and pulls me in, making me forget about the trouble I got him in. I know it takes two to tango, but I should have made it harder for him to give it all up.

  “I’m so
rry,” I tell him.

  “I’m not. You are worth every second of my time.”

  In no world am I worth two million dollars.

  As per the cycle of madness around here, I woke up at five a.m. and my head has been spinning for the last three hours. I’m feeling a thousand different things at once, but most of it is anger. The odds that I find a man I’m attracted to, and he has a great personality, and a good head on his … everything, I should only expect things to end up like this: in chaos.

  I miss being able to wake up and just shout across the tiny apartment for Gracie. I didn’t realize how nice it was to live with a friend, someone to talk to and vent to. Now, I’m feeling confined and stuck with crazies in this house.

  My phone lights up on my nightstand with a calendar reminder that I have to work tomorrow at eleven. I know, I know. I grab the phone to snooze the alert and find a message from Gracie that came in late last night. I must have already been asleep.

  Gracie: My spidey sense told me to check in on you and your man problems. Miss you, lady.

  I haven’t messaged Gracie much in the last week because I figured she was busy with her new upscale New York, city-living job. In truth, I’ve been a little jealous and kind of didn’t want to hear how great it was all going. I thumb out a message back to her.

  Me: Hope I’m not waking you too early on a Sunday. Things are interesting. The good news is, I met someone. The bad news is, he might hate me soon.

  It takes a few minutes before I see the dots flicker beneath my last message.

  Gracie: I told you butt play is meant for the fourth date or beyond, Ash. It’s a rule to live by.

  Me: Thanks, but that’s not the problem. Though everything was pretty amazing in that department.

  For good measure, I send her an emoticon of an eggplant. She’ll know what I mean.

  Gracie: Damn, girl. Listen, everything is going to be alright. Everything's gonna be alright … And nobody's gotta worry 'bout nothing ... Just don’t get an eggplant stuck where the sun doesn't shine, and life will be perfect. PS, I have a few four-day weekends I get to use up by the end of the year, and I want to come and visit you. Make room for Gracie!

  Only Gracie could manage to squeeze in a Bob Marley song and a dirty joke into one text message.

  Me: YES! I can’t wait to see you. I miss you so much.

  These are the conversations that would have me nearly peeing my pants before I got out of bed in the morning, but it’s not the same over text. It’s not the same when I’m sitting in a beautiful villa overlooking the water and trying to block out some weird crying sound from next door.

  When the sound of wood begins hammering against the connecting wall, I know I need to get the hell out of this bed and move to a space where I can’t imagine what’s going on next door. The fact that I can imagine the scene is disturbing in itself.

  After I throw on some jogging shorts and a t-shirt, I tie my hair up and head down the stairs, humming to myself, so I block out the donkey sounds. I just want a bottle of water and my running shoes.

  Except, that won’t be so easy when Bradley is sitting at the contaminated kitchen table, his elbows planted firmly on the placemat, and his fists are holding his chin up. He sighs when he sees me.

  “Where’s your wife?” I ask him.

  “We’re not married yet,” he replies.

  “She’s already got you whipped—although I shouldn’t say those words in this house since some people might think of that as a fun time.”

  “Funny,” he drones.

  “Speaking of which, why is it, Noah gets ‘kicked off the island’ when Tristan is consistently taking balls up his ass in this very house.”

  “Ashley!”

  “What? Am I mistaken? We all saw what was going on in that room.”

  “First of all, I don’t want to talk about sex with you. You’re my little sister. Second, they aren’t actually having sex.”

  “You just talked about sex,” I tell him.

  “Jesus, stop.”

  “Well, seriously, they’re having sex.”

  “No, they’re not.”

  “They’re just torturing each other?”

  “Yup. Unlike you and Noah, and that’s all I’m going to say.”

  “What are you talking about?” The thought of webcams and sex tapes is coursing through me. What if Bradley saw—

  “You were spotted at a hot tub last night,” he says. “That’s all I’m going to say.”

  My face is burning, but more with anger than embarrassment. “I don’t even care.”

  “Well, you should. You ruined Noah’s chances of winning the prize money.” I’d like to say he doesn’t need the prize money, but it’s none of my business. “Furthermore, he’s outside hashing out the details with Katarina, who is speaking on behalf of her father.”

  “You mean, your future father-in-law,” I correct him.

  “I don’t know if I can do this,” Bradley continues. “This isn’t what I thought I was getting myself into. She’s like his puppet.”

  “Um, aren’t you being audio recorded right now?” I’m looking around as if I can spot evidence of this conversation being recorded. This is like Big Brother. This. Is. Like. Big. Brother. My God! The girls’ father is totally just ripping off all these other shows.

  “I don’t care. I’ve checked out,” he says. “I’m ending things with Kat tonight.”

  I didn’t think it was possible to feel any type of remorse for Bradley, but at the end of the day he is still my brother, and we still have the same blood running through our bodies. I walk across the kitchen and grab the roll of paper towels, and then to the cabinet beneath the sink and grab a bottle of cleaner. I spray down the chair across from Bradley and take a seat. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  He shakes his head. “I wanted a wealthy lifestyle. I’ve worked hard to make a good future for myself, so we could settle down and have a family, but I don’t see how we could have a normal life.”

  “Have you talked to her about this?”

  Bradley shrugs. “I tried, but she’s a daddy’s girl and doesn’t see anything wrong with what he’s doing.”

  Between our strings of conversation, a quiet hum of shouts grows louder from outside. “Do you hear that?”

  “Yeah,” Bradley says, pushing his chair away from the table.

  I follow Bradley out the front door, finding Katarina in a heated discussion with Noah. Katarina has her phone flat against her palm, facing the screen up as if someone is on the phone listening to the conversation/argument the two of them are having.

  Noah has a stack of papers in his hand with highlighted marks all over the top page. “Read this to your father,” he tells her.

  Katarina groans and stomps her stiletto into the pavement. “Does she wake up dressed like an Addams’ Family Barbie doll?” I mutter to Bradley.

  “Sometimes,” Bradley responds in a hush.

  “The participants in this study agree to absolutely no physical relations including any type of intercourse within the Bachelor Place community,” Katarina reads sternly, speaking toward the phone she’s holding.

  “I wasn’t on the property,” Noah says, complacently dropping his hands into his jeans pockets. I haven’t seen him in jeans, but my God … he fills those pants out through every inch. Plus, his white t-shirt is far too small, and I want to drag him back to the hot tub.

  “Take me off the speaker,” I hear a static mumble from the phone.

  Katarina hits a button on the phone and holds the device up to her ear. “Yes, okay. No, I don’t think that’s the case,” she says to him. “Fine. I’ll do whatever you think is right.”

  No one knows what Ronald is saying to Katarina through their call, but she’s quick to hang up.

  “ An addendum will be sent out around this afternoon. If you don’t choose to agree to the addendum, you will be asked to move off-site immediately. If you do sign the addendum, your little fling will need to com
e to an end for the remaining five months.”

  “Awesome,” Noah tells her, shaking his head. “Ashley.” Noah holds his arms open for me. I don’t care who is standing here or what anyone thinks. I have feelings for Noah, and I’m not going to pretend like that isn’t the case because of some stupid contest or study, whatever the hell this is.

  “We need to talk,” I hear Bradley tell Katarina as they walk back toward the house.

  That should go over well.

  I walk into Noah’s open arms, and he embraces me tightly. “You should sign the addendum,” I tell him.

  “If signing the addendum means I lose the chance of seeing where things can go with us, I’m not sure I can commit.”

  “It’s two million dollars, Noah. I can’t compete.”

  “I don’t need the money,” he says.

  “If you want to keep building your empire, you do,” I remind him.

  His hands glide along my cheeks, and he sweeps his fingers behind my ears, looking down into my eyes with concern. “I haven’t met someone I’ve felt immediately connected to before, as I have with you.”

  The words I wanted to keep to myself spew from my mouth. “Well, besides the hostess from The Clam Pit that disappeared.” I wink at him and smile, so he knows I’m not one of those types of jealous women.

  Noah takes in a deep breath and closes his eyes for a minute. “Okay, I admit, I had a crush on her, but she was like a wet noodle. As soon as I hired you, I let her go, which was totally unprofessional, but I saw someone I was attracted to on multiple levels, and the other woman couldn’t compete, and I knew that after just meeting you twice. So when I tell you, she meant nothing more than a little crush, I’m being honest.”

  “I believe you,” I tell him. “I do.”

  “Good,” he says, kissing me with a swift soft peck.

  “I still want you to sign the addendum.”