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“From someone’s room?” the man asks.
“Near the pool in the bushes,” she says quietly.
Staring straight ahead, I focus back on the painting again when a hand rests against the small of my back just as the line moves up.
“Morning,” Adrian’s rough but gentle voice whispers in my ear.
Looking around the dining room, I whisper back tersely, “Is this a game to you?”
“I don’t like games, Lake,” he says in a tone so serious that I almost believe him.
The couple behind us keep whispering and I dip my head slightly, turning my ear towards them while catching Adrian’s eye. The sun creeping through the windows casts rays of light that cut right through the room slicing it in half, causing the green flecks in his eyes to shimmer.
“In the bushes?” I hear the man behind me say with a slightly raised voice in shock.
“Yes,” she hisses, trying to keep her voice down, unaware that I am fully trained on them now.
“Did you see anything?” the man asks curiously.
Both Adrian and I are quiet, looking anywhere but at the couple behind us – whom I don’t recognize – but could be friends of either Laura or Beth. My cheeks feel as if they’re on fire, knowing full well they’re talking about me. Hoping the woman didn’t see anything and recognize me, I keep my face forward, acutely aware of Adrian beside me, his hand at his side brushing purposefully against my bare thigh, sending a shiver up my body. I don’t remember anyone passing by us last night, but then again, if they had, I wasn’t paying attention. A grand piano could have fallen from a second story balcony, and I wouldn’t have noticed.
“No,” she says with an embarrassed lilt. “I’m not a voyeur.” But then she leans in closer to whom I assume is her husband. “It sounded pretty hot though.”
Shifting uncomfortably, I slide my eyes to Adrian who is looking down at me with a smirk on his face, and I roll my eyes at him.
“Hmm,” her husband says. “Where was I last night while this was going on?”
“You fell asleep in the room.” She sounds irritated. “How come we don’t do things like that?” she asks.
“You want to befucked,” he lowers his voice probably realizing he’s speaking too loudly, “in a bush instead of a bed?” he hisses.
“Maybe,” she answers coyly.
Adrian leans in close to my ear and whispers, “They wish they were us.” All I can smell is his cologne, and my whole body feels like it’s on fire just thinking about last night. When I dare to look at him, he’s wearing a smug smile on his face as if he’s won a prize for dirtiest fuck.
The line moves up and I grab the coffee pot and turn towards him.
“You’re very cocky, you know that?” I say, topping off my cup.
Adrian shrugs with a smile, leaning against the counter looking like a wolf in sheep's clothing. “Neither I nor God heard any complaints last night.”
Moving out of ear shot from the other people in line, I pull him to the side, laughing. “You’re delusional if you think I’m dickmatized,” I say, while my eyes can’t help but wander down to his crotch. “In fact,” I lean in further, hovering my lips near his ear, feeling the air shift between us while his lips part. “You’re the one that keeps following me around, so I’d say you might be a little pussy whipped.”
Instead of retreating, he leans over me casually, as if he’s going to grab something off the table, causing the backs of my thighs to hit the counter. “A little?” he groans lifting an eyebrow, and my pulse quickens. The room is full of wedding guests, and anyone could interpret this as something more than casual, but I am transfixed on his lips when he says, “It’s the best pussy I’ve ever had.”
Momentarily immobilized, I process lie number seven as those words move down my body, along with his eyes, settling between my thighs and searing a hole right through my panties.
He rattles me, and I don’t get rattled.
Regaining my composure, I clear my throat as Adrian chuckles, knowing he’s affected me. Sweat collects at the small of my back, as I slide out of his hold. The room is hot, and not just because it’s August in Arizona. I’m determined to gain back some of my upper hand because I’m not about to be bested by a thirty-one-year-old guy with a skateboard under his bed.
Before leaving, I look over my shoulder at him and say, “You bet your ass it is.” Strutting across the dining room towards the exit, I don’t look behind me, but I will bet anything he’s staring at my ass. Through the reflection in the glass doors, I see him leaning against the counter, raising the cup of coffee to his lips as he watches me leave.
As soon as I get outside, I lean against the stucco building, pushing the hair off my face and suck in a deep breath before continuing back to my room. When I get to the door, I can hear Georgie and Noelle playfully arguing inside.
“I’m just asking you to look under the bed.” Georgie’s voice carries through the door.
“Why would it be undermybed?” asks Noelle.
