Feverish (Bullet #3) (11 page)

When they went back to the hotel, for some
reason, everyone wound up in Clay and Emily’s suite, and everyone
was drinking. Emily was feeling a little tired, and she remembered
reading somewhere that it could be jet lag. She knew that meant she
should make sure to drink plenty of water too, so she waved off the
offers of alcohol. An hour later, early evening, everyone wanted to
hang out on the beach. She did too but she checked her email on her
phone. She actually had an email from Bryce, and he said he wanted
to Skype with her if she was around.

So when everyone began filtering out of the
room, she told Clay, “I’ll join you guys later. I’m gonna Skype
with Bryce.”

Clay smiled at her. “Okay. Text me if you
can’t find us.”

She nodded. “Will do.” As soon as everyone
left, she got another glass of ice water and went in her room to
fire up her laptop. She sat on her bed and logged into Skype. She
saw it said he was online, and so she made a video call to him.

When he answered, the video was a little
blurry, but it was nice to see his face. “Bryce! I’ve missed you so
much.”

“I’ve missed you too.” The sound quality
wasn’t the best—his voice sounded like she was under water, but it
was still wonderful to hear him.

“Are you having fun?”

“Unbelievable. Shit. I don’t even know where
we are anymore. We’re going to Italy tomorrow. I could spend years
here, Em. There’s so much history to take in.”

Years?
Maybe he wasn’t missing her as
much as she was him. “So what’s been your favorite place so
far?”

“I don’t know. Spain and England were kind of
old hat for me, like coming home, I guess. There were a couple
places in France I’d never been before, so that was cool.” The
video kept cutting out, so Emily was having to piece together what
he was saying. She managed but it was difficult. “What about you,
though? How’s the job going? Does it suck as much as it
sounds?”

“It doesn’t suck at all. I’m traveling too.
Right now, we’re in California—Long Beach, I think.”

“Hey, Em, this connection sucks. Much as I
love seeing your beautiful face, I’m gonna switch to audio only.
That okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” She did the same. “How’s
that?”

“Better on this end. You?”

Still not perfect, but “Yeah.”

“So you were telling me about your job.”

She proceeded to tell him about the things
she’d done so far. She didn’t tell Bryce how horrified she’d been
at first. She’d only been working for Clay a little over two weeks
and yet she already felt loyal to him. She felt protective of
him—of his image in particular—so she didn’t want to say anything
that could be damaging. Instead, she focused on the work she’d been
doing and how much she was enjoying it thus far.

She then asked Bryce to expand on his
European adventures, and he said, “I’m taking plenty of pictures.
I’ll show them all to you when I get back. It’s kinda late
here.”

Emily looked at the time on her laptop—it was
almost five thirty. “What time is it?”

“It’s after one.”

“Oh, crap. You’re probably ready for
bed.”

“Getting there.” His voice was lower when he
said, “What are you wearing?”

“What?”

“What are you wearing?”

A small smile crossed her face, and she
wanted to ask him if he’d been paying any attention to her when the
video had been on. But she missed him and wanted to indulge him. “A
white tank top with tiny straps and jean shorts.”

“Oh…are your bra straps peeking out from
under the tank top?”

She smiled wider. “Yeah.”

“What color bra?”

“Light pink.”

“Damn. The shorts…they cut offs?”

“No.”

“Super short—where your ass almost peeks
out?”

“I dunno.”

“They the ones you wore last summer?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn. I think I’m getting hard.”

She giggled. “I can’t take care of you till
you get home, honey.”

He made a growling sound. “Touch
yourself.”

Her voice was quieter than she’d wanted.
“What?”

“Touch yourself—like if I was touching
you.”

Oh.
Wow. She’d never done phone sex
before. That was what he was asking her to do, right? “You mean,
like, my boobs?”

She heard him breathe out a chuckle. “Among
other things.”

Her thought process didn’t take long, and she
decided to go through with it. “One sec.” She got up off the bed
and closed the door, then sat back on the bed, but she turned her
laptop around. It was one thing to do what she was about to do, but
she knew if she felt self-conscious, it wouldn’t work. Just by
turning the laptop forty-five degrees so it faced the window, she
relaxed. “Okay. I’m ready.”

“So…I want you to imagine we’re together, all
right, and I’m kissing your neck. But my hands slide up your
shirt.” She lay back on the bed, her head on the overly fluffy
pillow, and she slid her hand up her tank resting it on her belly
just below her bra. “I want to touch you, those beautiful
breasts.”

He talked her through it, and she tried to
imagine it was his hands on her breasts, but her mind kept slipping
elsewhere. By the time her hands were unbuttoning her shorts at his
command, her mind was focused on Clay’s image. She couldn’t stop
it, but she imagined that it was him getting into her panties, and
as her fingers touched her slick clit, she couldn’t help imagining
Clay’s head—or, more specifically, his tongue—between her legs
bringing her pleasure. She started to ask if Bryce was going fast
or slow, but by then she was buried in a dark world of fantasy. She
could still hear his voice, but it wasn’t Bryce who was getting her
off.

Chapter Ten

“AW, FUCK ME.” Clay was patting the pockets
on his ass futilely.

“What, man?” Brian asked.

“I musta left my phone back in the room.”

“So? Don’t be a bitch. You don’t need the
fuckin’ phone.”

“Yeah, I do. I told Emily to text me if she
couldn’t find us.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “It’s still light out.
She’s a big girl.”

“She’s not familiar with California. And I
promised, douche. Be right back.”

He heard Brian say, “Pussy.” Yeah, and now he
owed him one. The two of them often engaged in that type of name
calling, but it was harmless. In fact, he expected nothing less
from the man.

It was fewer than five minutes that he was
back in the hotel and sliding the card in the door to open the
room. He was hoping his phone was in the hotel; otherwise, he’d
lost it. Again. He’d managed to hang onto this phone for almost a
year, so he hoped he’d just left it in the room. Otherwise, he’d
broken his streak.

Emily wasn’t inside, so he wondered if he’d
crossed paths with her. God, he’d feel like an asshole if she got
lost, and he hadn’t been available by phone as promised. He went in
his room and checked the dresser and nightstands. Nope. He’d have
to instead look in the kitchen and living room area and hope it was
in one of those rooms.

As he walked out in the living room, he
realized he could hear Emily’s voice. She was in her room and the
door was closed. He felt a little relief that he hadn’t lost her.
He started walking over to the door and was going to tell her he’d
popped in to find his phone…until he could hear more. His gait
slowed as he got closer, and then he realized what he was hearing
was her on the verge of orgasm.
Holy fuck.
He took a deep
breath and almost cursed when he realized he’d grown hard in
seconds. God, what an asshole he was. She was having sex with her
boyfriend over the internet (would they call that
cybersex
?
he wondered) and he was listening in. But as much as he wanted to,
he couldn’t back away. Her cries were intoxicating, and he closed
his eyes, wadding up his t-shirt into his fist to keep himself from
grabbing his cock and jerking off right there. As much as he’d
thought he wanted this woman before, hearing her orgasm was going
to fucking kill him.

She finished and Clay took a deep breath. He
knew his knuckles had to be white, but he didn’t look at the fist
gripping his shirt when he opened his eyes. He looked instead at
the hand pressing against the wall, almost keeping him from
falling. That hand wanted to open the door to Emily’s room, but it
wasn’t going to. Clay was a gentleman.

That was part of the problem too. Clay wasn’t
fully there; instead, the animal side of the man had come out, and
he was more Jet than Clay, and Jet wouldn’t care if Emily thought
he was a pig. Still, he swallowed and made his breathing steady. He
had to find his phone and get out of there. Emily wouldn’t
appreciate feeling like he’d been listening in on her. If he could
get his ass out of there and do it quietly, she wouldn’t ever have
to know.

He tried thinking of other things, willing
his cock down, and then he turned, looking around the living room
for his phone. He tried to focus so he could leave the suite
looking as normal as possible.

He would have to look in the kitchen. He
walked there, glad the carpet was absorbing the sound of his steps,
but the kitchen didn’t have carpet. It didn’t matter, though,
because he saw the phone on the table and was able to reach it
before he had to walk through the entire space. He took another
breath, determined to leave.

As he walked toward the front door, though,
he heard Emily’s raised voice. “Are you kidding me? You asshole!”
Clay couldn’t hear what her boyfriend said through the
tinny-sounding laptop, but it was some sort of lame protest—Clay
could tell that much. “It sounds like you already have a party
going on there. Why the fuck do
I
have to be the porno
entertainment for your fucked up party?”

Clay could hear the next thing her boyfriend
said. “It’s not like that, Em.”

“Bullshit.”

“Don’t hang up.”

“I am. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Oh, come on, Em.”

“Fuck off.”

Clay thought he heard her slam the lid to her
laptop. At this point, he knew he should have been ashamed for
everything he heard; instead, he felt bad for Emily. If he’d been
able to piece it together, she’d thought she and her boyfriend were
alone, so to speak, and had been mutually engaged in Skype sex, but
he was under the impression—from what little he’d heard—that the
guy had had at least one other person on his end, someone she
hadn’t seen in the room. Maybe she’d been so into it she hadn’t
seen someone else come in. Whatever the case, she sounded
humiliated and angry, and he couldn’t pretend to not know now.

* * *

What a fucking asshole. She was angry to the
core. She’d said the
f word
more times this day than she
ever had in one week before. She was so pissed at Bryce. She wasn’t
sure how many guys had been listening to her bringing herself to
orgasm, but it would have been nice to have been warned. What a
slimy thing to do. How would she ever be able to look at those guys
in the eyes again?

And what did that say about Bryce? Didn’t he
love her? Why would anyone want to share his girlfriend—hell, his
fiancée
—that way? It made no sense to her.

She took a deep breath. Part of her wanted to
just bury herself under the covers and sleep off all the
negativity, but the other part of her knew she shouldn’t. She was
technically “on the job,” and she knew she should be hanging out
with Clay and his bandmates so she could get to know them.

Besides, she really did want to see the
ocean. It would do her good.

So she got off the bed and went to the
dresser, pulling out the hot pink bikini she’d put in there. She
pulled off her clothes and slipped it on. Then she pulled out her
brush and a ponytail holder and pulled her hair up. She found her
sandals and slipped them on, and then remembered she’d packed a
beach towel too. She grabbed it and then found her room card and
phone on the nightstand and opened her bedroom door.

She almost screamed when she saw Clay sitting
in a chair in the living area. She took in a deep breath. When she
found her voice, she asked, “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough.”

What did that mean? Had he heard her yelling
at Bryce…or had he heard what had happened before? She didn’t want
to think about it. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to come back for my phone.”

She swallowed. So why the hell was he just
sitting there? Was he mad at her and thought she’d stolen it? He
was acting strangely, and it was freaking her out. It didn’t help,
because she was still emotionally charged. “Well, I’m gonna head to
the beach.” She walked over to the front door.

“Wait.” She turned around and Clay was right
in front of her. She looked up in his eyes. “That guy has no idea
how to treat a lady.”

It took her a second to realize he was
talking about Bryce. She didn’t know what to say. If he knew she’d
been thinking about him when she’d climaxed, what then would he be
saying? Still, she had to force herself to look in his eyes. Part
of her felt like she should defend Bryce, but the man was beyond
that. He had acted like a cad, and he didn’t deserve any defense
from her. Clay was right. Still, she couldn’t find any words. It
didn’t help that Clay was so close, way too close to her. She could
feel that electric charge between them that she’d often felt when
he’d been nearby, the one that told her she should stay away. She
could feel the warmth from his body in spite of the cooled air
inside the room. He felt hot, like he was on fire, and she wanted
nothing more than to feel his lips on hers. And that’s why there
were no words.

His hand wrapped around the back of her neck,
and she was convinced he was going to kiss her—and she would have
let him. Instead, he spoke. “I know you said you were engaged. Clay
will respect that…but if you want a real man who’ll treat you
right, Jet doesn’t give a fuck if you’re engaged, married, or a
nun.” She parted her lips to speak—or maybe invite him in?—but he
interrupted her again. “Just think about it.” He took a deep breath
and removed his hand, stepping back. “Do you need me to walk with
you?” She shook her head. “Text me if you can’t find them.”