Page 33 of Heartless Devil
“What can I get you, sir?” the bartender asks when I approach the bar.
“Scotch on the rocks, please,” I say, tapping the bar top with my knuckles before turning around and resting my elbows on the wood.
I’ll give it to my sister; this view is unbelievable. The yacht is amazing. I wonder what it would be like to not have a care in the world and just live on a boat like this.
“Let’s find some bedrooms,” Cam says, clapping her hands together.
“What if we just forgo the club tonight and have our own party here? There’s a bar, pool, and hot tub, what more could we need?” Charlie says.
“I like the way you think, Char,” Cam says, wrapping her arm around her best friend’s shoulder.
Great. I’ll never get away from this fucking chick now.
* * *
An hour later and I’m about to fucking lose it if I have to hear anything else about Sasha’s life in New York. This is going to be the longest two days of my life.
“Angie just texted, everyone is out at the pool. You down?” she asks, like she’s my fucking girlfriend or something.
“I’ll be there in a few. I wanna grab a shower,” I say, desperate for any alone time I can get.
“Want some company?”
Fuck no.
“No, I’m good,” I say, harsher than I intended, but she doesn’t even notice.
She leaves the room a few minutes later, and I lean back against the headboard, sighing. How do I get myself into these fucking situations?
My sister and Tyler, that’s how.
Groaning, I throw my legs over the bed, heading into the bathroom for a shower. I’m going to have to interact with these people for a little bit. Then I’m going to try and figure out a way to get the fuck away from Sasha before my head explodes.
I drag the shower out as long as I can, trying to delay the inevitable.
“You know I’m in Mexico. I come every summer, so why would this be any different, Mom?” I hear Charlie’s voice outside of my room.
I quickly grab my swim trunks from my bag, throwing them on before swinging the door open.
I come face-to-face with Charlie, looking like the perfect fucking angel that she is.
She’s looking at the ground, so she hasn’t noticed me yet. Her dark hair is piled on top of her head, pieces falling down around her face. Her face is bare of makeup, which is rare for her, but fuck she doesn’t need it.
She’s wearing a sheer coverup that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. Her bikini is white, with a sequined top, her breasts spilling out of it, tiny little strings tied around her back and her neck. The bottoms have a thin strap of sequins on each side of her hips and what I can only imagine is a small piece of material not even covering her ass.
When she finally glances up and notices me, I don’t miss the way her eyes travel up my body. I’m immediately hard. Christ, this fucking woman is trying to kill me. I want to fuck her in this hallway right now while she’s on the phone with her mom. I don’t give a fuck who sees or hears us.
“I gotta go,” I hear her tell her mom before hanging up the phone.
She stares at me for a beat longer before turning around to walk away. Without thinking, I grab her wrist, spinning her around until she’s pressed up against me. There’s no way she can’t feel how fucking hard I am right now.
“Cole,” she breathes out.
I think she meant it to be a warning, but it came out as anything but.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I ask, leaning into her.
“I’m trying to get away from you,” she admits.