Page 25 of For Your Eyes Only
“Is Blake with you?” Hana’s older sister despises the party scene—and pretty much our entire crowd.
Not that I blame her. We can be a bit much at times.
“Yeah…” She hesitates. “I kind of had a bad night last night. Debbie wanted to blow off some steam, and… I don't remember.”
My brow furrows. I’ve been around for nights like that, and it can get way out of control. “Are you okay?”
I make a note to check Page Six for the inevitable photos. I only hope I don’t see my friend passed out in an alley or looking like she’s single-handedly trying to bring back heroin chic.
“When are you coming home? Blake didn’t even know you were out of town.”
Any time Hana has a bad night, Blake comes after me, even though I’ve told her repeatedly I don’t give Hana drugs. “Blake wouldn’t be with you if I were there.”
“I think she’s worried.”
Inhaling slowly, I think about this. “Should she be?”
Female voices crowd the other end of the line. Debbie and Blake are talking, and I imagine they’re back at the Andover deciding what to do next.
“Are you falling in love with Florida?” Hana’s soft voice has the high timbre of a little girl, like Marilyn or Pam Anderson.
It hits me in the gut. “I’m taking care of business. Something unexpected came up.”
“We should join you there. Debbie loves Miami. Did you go to Versace’s mansion?”
“No, I came straight here.” I think about my first night in town. It feels so long ago.
“Do you ever wonder what it’s all for? Why we keep doing this day after day?”
I don’t wonder. I know what I want, the freedom I’m working so hard to earn, but that’s not what she wants to hear.
Instead, I lighten my tone, turning on the casual charm. “Deep questions for so late at night. Are you home?”
“Yeah,” she exhales softly.
“I want you to go inside, go straight to your room, and get some sleep. Sleep til noon and then text me you did what I said, okay?”
“Night, Trip.” The line goes dead before I can answer.
Lowering my hand to the bed, my mind drifts far away from south Florida to another life waiting for me miles from here. It’s a dangerous life, one of too many risks and too much money.
I’m mixed up with men who’d sell their own children to get what they want, but I plan to beat them at their own game. I plan to get out before it gets me.
Which begs the question, why the hell am I spending so much time here? West Palm has never been my focus. Scrubbing my fingers over my brow, I can’t help thinking I should go home. What’s happening here is a distraction.
I need to get my head together, but staying here pulls me so strong.
CHAPTER8
GIA
I’m curled up in my soft bed, hugging my pillow and dreaming of my handsome, elegant prince. All night I made love to Trip. I taunted him with my dances. I ran away, but he caught me. Okay, I let him catch me.
He put his hands around my waist, pulling my back to his chest. I reached up to thread my fingers in his soft, wavy hair. His beard scuffed the skin at the back of my neck, while his full lips traced a line up to my ears. Such an ecstatic combination—rough whiskers, warm kisses, wet tongue.
His hand slid between my thighs, finding the place right at the top, right in the center. He knew exactly how to touch me, firm circles, fingering and sliding back and forth. My nipples grew hard and tingly, longing for his mouth on them, his teeth.
When he plunged between my thighs, I could only imagine, but the orgasm that shook my body made me cry out. Turning my face, I buried my moan in my pillow. Bianca and I share a room, but luckily she likes to sleep with headphones. She claims we’re all too loud at night.