Exquisite Betrayal (7 page)

After the introductions, Amanda orders
another round of shooters. This time it’s Redheaded Sluts for
everyone. I know she’s sending me a message, so I try my best to
shoot daggers at her. I was never good at that, the nice in me
overriding everything bad. We down those and I look up to see her
hand me another one with a wink. This is going to be very bad
indeed.

My eyes land on Ryland and he’s
wearing a lopsided grin. I’m not sure if it’s natural or alcohol
induced
—
on his part or
mine
—
because, at this point,
everything is lopsided to me. We all head to the dance floor where
the music is blaring as we sing. I can’t tell what song is playing,
I only know we’re singing. Lord help those that are next to
us.

The rest of the night turns into an
alternating round of dancing and doing shooters. When my lips go
numb, I know I’m in serious trouble.

I look around, not seeing my girls, only two
Rylands. I’m perfectly happy with that because, while one Ryland is
gorgeous, two are stupendous. Unfortunately, I don’t get to enjoy
two Rylands too long. The last thing I remember is trying to decide
which Ryland to dry hump on the dance floor before my lights go
out.

***

The jackhammer wakes me up and I can’t
figure out where the noise is coming from. Wherever it is, I want
it to stop, and fast. It’s splitting my head right open and my
brains are spilling out. I inch open my eyes and slam them back
shut. The brightness kills me. It sends my stomach churning and the
pain in my head worsens. I realize it’s not a jackhammer after all.
It’s the throbbing my own skull is producing.

I moan and roll to my side. That tiny
movement causes the most violent surge of nausea to roll over me
that I’ve ever experienced in my life. I’ve got seconds to get to
the toilet. I move to jump out of bed, but I only manage to get my
legs tangled in the sheet. My face slams into the floor as I erupt
like Mt. St. Helens. I’m not sure what hurts worse now… my
throbbing head, my stinging face or my guts. I heave again and then
I hear that British accent.

“
Bloody fuck, not again. I thought we
were over this by now. Thank God I moved the rug.”

The rug? What’s he talking about. Where am
I? I give one last gurgle and heave again, and this time it’s
nothing more than saliva. I’m now in the dry heave stages of a
hangover. I’ve never been this bad before. Truth is, I’ve never
thrown up from drinking before, and the way I feel now, I don’t
ever want to do it again. I groan in agony. I seriously don’t know
which way to turn, I’m that miserable.

“
Hang on, I’m getting a
cloth.”

Moments later, a cool cloth appears and is
bathing my face. It feels nice. But when it leaves, I moan in its
absence.

“
Better now?”

I nod, careful to move my head slowly.

“
Come on,” he starts to untangle my
legs, “let’s get you in the bath.”

When my legs are freed, he helps me stand
before we walk towards the bathroom. I still have no idea where we
are.

“
Where am I?” I croak.

“
In my hotel room at the Bellagio. You
were quite plastered last night, love.”

My thoughts shift back to the night before
and my stomach seethes with the simple reminder of those redheaded
sluts. Damn Amanda. Or maybe it was Mandy. Hell, I don’t remember
anymore, Fact is, I can’t remember a freakin’ thing.

Ryland leads me into the bathroom as I
blindly follow him, not daring to open my eyes to the blazing
light. If I do, I know I’ll be facing a searing pain so severe that
I’ll scream. He picks me up and sits me on the counter, then
strangely, I feel cool air wash over my skin. How odd.

I crack open one eye and squeal. I’m
topless, my boobs playing show-and-tell and proud of it, too. My
nipples are pointed and happy as can be. I swear I can hear them
giggling. What the fuck?

He hears me squeak and nonchalantly says,
“Sorry, love, but you puked all over your shirt. I had to get it
off you and you were braless.” Then he shrugs like he hasn’t a care
in the world. And why should he? He’s not the one with his boobs
laughing and joking with each other. I slap my hands over them,
trying to quiet them down. “A little late for that, don’t you
think?”

I don’t know what to think. All I know is
that I’m half naked in Ryland’s hotel room at the Bellagio. Holy
schmoly. For a second, I wonder if I lost my virginity, but I
realize that’s a stupid thought because my panties are still on.
Panties. I’m in my panties. Thong panties. Sitting on his counter.
And that’s all I have on. Holy fuck. Why me?

He notices my face. I’m sure it’s scarlet,
but it feels like it’s going into a nuclear meltdown right about
now.

“
It’s okay, Fallon. Everything’s gonna
be fine. Don’t worry.”

“
Who’s worried? I’m not worried. I’m
embarrassed, Ryland. Look at me.” Why the hell did I just say that?
“No, don’t! Don’t look at me. That’s why I’m
embarrassed.”

He grins and, damn, he’s hot. “And you’re
really something to look at, Fallon. Even if you have thrown up all
over the damn place and passed out cold on me. This magnificent
view was worth that price.”

My face is going to melt right off. I cover
it with my hands.

He hands me a toothbrush covered in
toothpaste and I start to brush away. He does the same. When we
finish, he looks at me thoughtfully. “I need to get you something
to eat and drink. You’ll be sick if I don’t.”

“
I’ve been sick. A lot, it
seems.”

“
Right you are. But it’ll be worse.
You need something back in your stomach.”

He picks up the phone in the bathroom—we are
in the Bellagio after all—and orders room service. Coffee, orange
juice, coke, ice water, toast and pancakes are on the way.

When I feel his fingers hook under the
elastic in my panties, my eyes fly open.

“
What are you doing?” I sound like a
three-year-old on steroids.

“
Relax. You’ve been sick. It’s in your
hair
—
everywhere, really. I
was going to get you in the shower.”

“
Oh.”

By this time I figure, what the hell, the
man has seen most of my bits, all except for my hoo-hah. A shower
won’t reveal that unless I’m planning on doing some fancy acrobatic
moves, which I’m not. So I let him strip me and carry me to the
shower. I almost choke when he drops his britches and follows me
inside.

“
Fallon, you spewed all over me,
too.”

It’s hard not to look at him in all his
naked perfection. I read a lot. Way too much, probably. Every
romance novel describes the guy as having chiseled this and cut
that and the V to heaven. Well, Ryland is chiseled, cut and his V
goes straight to a mouth-watering hard-on that, even in my
hung-over state, has me wet between my legs in zero point two
seconds.

Before I even know what I’m doing, my hand
closes around him and I say, “Ahh,” just like you do in the
doctor’s office. By now, I’m positive he thinks I’m a nutcase. But
what the hell, I’m leaving today, so I may as well go for it. My
eyes search his out and his green ones connect with mine.

“
Fallon,” is all he says before his
tongue is in me. The soap is smoothed all over me and I do the same
to him, making sure I spend extra time on his dick because it’s so
amazing. It’s the first time I’ve ever touched one and I’m mentally
kicking myself for waiting this long. “Bloody hell, Fallon.” He
pulls my hand off him. “Darlin’, you have to give me a second.” His
chest heaves as he struggles to gain back his breath.

Then his eyes narrow and he flattens one
hand against my stomach, pushing me against the marble wall. My
butt makes a slapping sound, but I don’t care. I’m only concerned
with what his mouth is going to do. When he drops to his knees and
buries his mouth against me, I cry out as this is a whole new thing
for me. And praise to all hot mouths!

With one hand, he spreads me apart while the
other is on my ass and his tongue is playing with my clit like it’s
never been played with before. Teasing and then sucking it, he goes
round and round, back and forth, until I explode into an orgasm of
epic magnitude. Holy wow! Ryland takes me on a magic tongue ride
and I want it to last forever.

He kisses his way back up to my mouth. I can
taste myself on him.

“
Christ, you’re amazing. Tell me you
like the way you taste on my tongue.”

“
Yeah. I do.” I’m surprised by that,
too.

It makes me want him more. Like now. I grab
his dick again, but he brushes my hand away. Now his head dips down
and starts having sexy time with my nipples. I thought the meltdown
I just had when I came was fabulous, then he introduces me to
something totally different, although equally as erotic. My nipples
are as hard as diamonds and I’m scorched as desire bursts through
me like a raging inferno. My voice catches in the back of my throat
as a guttural sound emerges.

“
I want you, Fallon. Can we…?” he
asks.

So this is finally it. “Yes.”

“
Don’t move.”

He leaves and then comes back, rolling on a
condom. We crash together in a fiery kiss as he walks me up against
the wall again. He takes my hand and slowly raises it above my head
as he entwines his fingers with mine. Then he tugs my thigh up and
brings it around his hip.

“
You’re beautiful, love, all wet like
this. That mouth of yours could make men move
mountains.”

He kisses me again and then I feel him
inching into me. I tense for a second, but his mouth takes my mind
off it as his tongue takes over. And suddenly he thrusts into me
and I yelp, “Ow, ow, ow!”

He immediately stills. “You’re a virgin?”
His breathing is erratic.

I nod. The pain is easing now. I squirm my
hips around, wanting him to continue, but he doesn’t. His eyes
drill into mine, making me uncomfortable.

“
Why didn’t you tell me?” His tone is
terse. “Warn me at least?”

He’s upset. I didn’t expect this reaction.
“I didn’t think it was a big deal.” Our moment is slipping
away.

“
Bollocks! If it weren’t a big deal,
you still wouldn’t have been one.” Point well made,
Ryland.

He starts to back out of the shower and I
say, “Wait. Don’t go.”

He stops and looks at me for a second and
then turns and walks away.

I watch him leave as my stomach feels like
someone put a blender in it. This time it’s not because of my
hangover, though.

The water runs down me as I stand there,
rinsing the last bit of suds away. So much for my precious
virginity. A bitter laugh escapes from me before I clamp my mouth
shut, cutting it off. His reaction is tearing into me and I
honestly don’t get it. Confusion crowds my mind. I’m lost in the
flood of it. How should I handle this? Should I apologize? Did I
actually do something wrong? Losing one’s virginity didn’t seem
like such a dramatic thing before all of this. At least, I’d never
heard any of my friends describe any kind of reaction like
this.

I lean against the same wall that, only
minutes ago, was the hottest place I’d ever been. Now I’m shivering
even though the water that pours over me is burning hot. What I’d
like to do is stay right here and hide forever, but I know that’s
not possible. So I open the shower door and scan the room for a
towel, but I don’t see any. The rack and the counter are nothing
except empty spaces. Then in the bathtub I spy a pile of them, but
they’re all dirty. He must’ve used them on me last night.

Leaving me no choice other than to walk
around naked, I stiffen my spine and head out the door. When I
enter the room, he turns and looks at me. I try not to flinch,
however his eyes are so penetrating that I feel myself unraveling,
so I cross my arms over my chest. I wish I could simply
disappear.

“
Um, there weren’t any towels and I
don’t know where my clothes are.” My voice catches in my throat.
The last thing I want to do is cry, so I swallow the threat of
tears.

He hands me a robe and says, “You soiled
your clothes to the point that they’re ruined. I’m sorry. Can I go
back to your hotel and pick up some things for you?” Clearly,
that’s the last thing he needs to do.

“
Uh, what time is it?” I remember my
flight is at one.

After a quick glance at his watch, he says,
“It’s eleven.”

“
What? Eleven? My flight’s at
one!”

“
You’re going to need to call the
airlines and change it. You’ll never make it.”

I plop on the bed, my head in my hands. “Do
you know where my purse is?”

“
Purse? You didn’t have a
purse.”

My head pops up so fast it spins. “What do
you mean I didn’t have a purse? I did have a purse. It was a little
gold clutch that I could wear across my body. I had it on last
night.”

“
No, you didn’t. It wasn’t on when you
got sick. I would’ve remembered that.”

“
Oh, shit, shit, shit.” I’m on my feet
now, frantic, wringing my hands. “Everything was in my purse… my
wallet, credit cards, cash, driver’s license, phone; my whole life.
What am I gonna do?” I wail.

He wasn’t concerned a few minutes ago, but
he is now. “Okay, calm down and let’s think. I’ll call the club to
see if anyone turned it in.”

He made the call and the answer was a big
no. “Can you call your friends?”

“
I don’t know their numbers. They were
programmed in my phone.” Now I’m in a full-blown panic. “I can’t
get on the plane! I don’t have any ID!”