AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But every piece of that plan blew away like a dust storm when Alexander and his three future groomsmen went on a once-in-a-lifetime holiday to Bali.
It wasn’t the five days in Bali that changed him, nor what they did there. It was the movie he watched on the way home. The Hangover. It didn’t matter how many times I’d told him it was fiction, and that people didn’t do the stupid fucking things they did in that movie, Alexander’s outlook on life shifted.
And in the process, he ruined my life, too.
From the day he returned home, my fiancé changed his name to Xander and went out partying nearly every night. He slept around with dozens of girls, both younger and much, much older than him.
I learned what it meant to hate someone. . . to truly loathe someone right down to the pit of my stomach. I would’ve left him if I hadn’t been a pathetic fading flower. But no! I waited until the final humiliation. . .him professing his love for my best friend, Chelsea-Lea Winslett.
She was the friend I’d wanted to be my Maid of Honor. Instead, she became the dirty slut who allowed Alexander to be Xander.
I’d never forgive her. I’d never forgive him.
My fingernails dug into my palm so hard it was a wonder I didn’t draw blood.
Determined to eradicate the emotional landslide I’d let myself fall into, I grabbed a cup of tea and headed to the front of the hotel foyer to watch the sunrise. As I watched the day unfold, I thought of Cowboy Billy.
Was he going to be my next conquest? My mind spun.
My fingers tingled as I imagined the taut muscles beneath his shirt. I recalled every word he’d said in that sexy baritone, and my thought snagged on him calling me sweet.
I lost track of time, and as the sun popped up, casting a golden glow across the ocean, I made a decision like no other I’d made before. I decided I wanted to make Cowboy Billy happy. Maybe I could make him believe that miracles did happen.
And in the process, I would forget my cheating bastard ex-fiancé, and that would make me happy, too.
For the first time ever, I wanted a man. But I didn’t want him for anything other than sexual gratification.
What did that make me? I didn’t want an answer to that.
Needledick arrived late, as usual, and I strode like a woman on a mission to the elevator. As it rose to my floor, I checked myself in the mirror. Small bags had pillowed beneath my eyes, which, I conceded, was an expected result after nine hours on night shift with nothing other than a tub of yogurt and a packet of corn chips.
My lips were dry, too, but my Bobbi Brown red lipstick would sort them out.
In my room I tugged my long hair into a ponytail and had a cool shower. Refreshed again, I went through the same process I had last Friday—applying over-the-top makeup, tucking my hair into a black bobbed wig, and wriggling into my barely-there French maid outfit.
This time, however, I was much calmer. My thoughts were on Cowboy Billy. What he’d look like beneath the business shirt and the denim jeans. What he’d think of me as I blazed into his room. What he’d feel like beneath my probing fingers.
I gasped aloud. Did I really think that? Did I plan on touching Cowboy Billy? The idea both thrilled and scared the shit out of me at the same time. I didn’t do one-night stands.
Maybe that was because I’d never been offered the right one.
My reflection in the mirror confirmed that Plain Jane was long gone, and sexy Memphis was back. I tugged on my trench coat and strode out my door. As I rode the elevator, I stewed over how Billy would greet me, playing out everything from a glorious embrace to a cowboy boot up the butt as he kicked me out the door.
In the hallway’s silence, my heart thumped out a crazy beat in my ears.
I removed my trench coat at his door, and before I scurried away, I knocked. I was just about to knock again when the door opened.
“Gidday.”
I gasped.
He showed no signs of a man with a hangover. . . he looked like a man who was ready to ride a bucking bronco.
Holy cow. . . Cowboy Billy is fucking gorgeous.
His hair was slicked back from a recent shower, or so I assumed from the fresh scent of soap and aftershave. He wore only jeans, but they were unzipped, and his cowboy boots with pointed tips peeked out beneath the denim.
I had to drag my eyes away from his open zipper and the Calvin Klein brand on his white underpants.
