Good Morning Heartache (2 page)

Snap.

She glanced over at the line
of groomsmen on the other side of the camera and then over at Tom. No.

“I don’t want a nice guy,”
Alexis replied.

 Nerdy doctors weren't
really the type that would do it for her tonight. They were too unpredictable.
Some were great, some were okay. Alexis needed spectacular.

“Never mind. I’ll just have
to find someone good at the reception.” If there’s no one suitable there, she
thought, there’s always the hotel bar.

“Alright, just the bride and
groom.”

Alexis walked away from the
couple and stood with the rest of the bridesmaids. She watched as the man with
glacier-blue eyes crossed the courtyard, his eyes still frowning. He’d make the
cut under the best of circumstances. And the bitterness he seemed to have
toward weddings and happiness only worked in his favor.

§

A large group of people had
formed a circle in the middle of the dance floor and were flapping their arms
like chickens in unison. Ryan Webb sat in a dining chair and shook his head in
disgust. He hoped all of them were blind drunk; otherwise, there was no excuse.

The sane few remained along
the edges at tables and chit-chatted in hushed tones, but all the guests who
had been seated at table seven, Ryan's table, were now doing the chicken dance.
Ryan just leaned back against the chair and watched. He could go and talk to
someone. He should. He needed to polish up his social skills, but he couldn't
bring himself to participate in the inane small talk of a wedding. Besides,
people were either already involved in a conversation or were having a good
time looking like idiots. He neither wanted to interrupt their private
conversations nor subject himself to foolish behavior for the sake
of—what?—practice?

Caitlyn and Michael were
lucky he actually liked them. Both of them. Michael was his roommate in Gila
Hall their freshman and sophomore years at the U of A, and Caitlyn always
seemed to be hanging around.

He had talked to them
infrequently over the years and was shocked to learn they were getting hitched.
He always thought Michael would end up with some bimbo, or someone who was
absolutely out of her mind. That was usually what he brought back to the dorm
room. And that wasn't Caitlyn.

In those first few years at
the U of A, they were always asking him to go out with them to get frozen
yogurt or to go to the rec center. Occasionally he would join them, but most of
the time he stayed in the room and studied. They didn’t understand the work
load of an architecture and business dual major.

School was important to him
then. Work was important to him now. At least this trip wouldn’t be a complete
waste and provided him with a project. He needed to engross himself in work for
the moment, without actually being at work.

Ryan sipped his drink and
prepared for the customary bride-groom small talk as Michael caught his attention
and moved his new wife toward Ryan.

“Hi, Ryan.” The bride said
as she gave him what could only be called a hug but was really too loose to
justify the name. Caitlyn always had weird personal space issues, which was
completely okay with Ryan. “Thank you for coming. I honestly didn’t think you’d
take us up on the invite, but I’m really glad you did.”

Ryan was an awkward
conversationalist—it was his Achilles heel—so he just smiled back at her.
Michael held out his hand, and Ryan exchanged a firm handshake with him. “I
can’t thank you enough for your gift. It’s really generous.”

“What can I say?” Ryan
shrugged, but to be honest he didn’t know what to say.

The bride narrowed her
pretty blue eyes at him, “You’re not going to let any weirdoes in my house
while I’m gone are you?”

“I can still stay there
can’t I?” His attempt at a joke failed, and the bride assured him the guest
room was all set up for him and their dog would be gone on Monday. She also
gently recommended that the dog be let out a couple of times during the day on
Sunday, if Ryan didn’t mind.

He nodded an affirmative. He
thanked them for the nice dinner and the workcation, and they moved on to the
next guest.

Ryan worked for Pontus
Architects, a prestigious architecture firm in Manhattan. His education,
intelligence, and strong work ethic quickly moved him into the top tier of the
company. It didn't afford him much of a social life, but that was unimportant,
at least until recently.

Michael and Caitlyn wanted a
re-model of their master bedroom and bathroom and to add some square footage to
their kitchen while they were on their honeymoon. They asked Ryan about a month
ago to do the design. He was happy to do it. He was happier they weren’t going
to be around to flaunt their marital bliss while he was on the job.

Since he hadn’t bought them
a gift yet, the designs would be their wedding present, and he was able to get
his good friend Daniel Montgomery as the contractor. The couple got a steal for
some of the best work in home renovation available on the East coast.

Ryan surveyed the room. The
bride and groom were making their exit out a side door without the pomp and circumstance
some couples demanded.

The ice in the tumbler he
held in his right hand clinked against the glass. He brought the brown liquid
to his lips and let the grassiness of the Jameson Irish Whiskey run over his
tongue. It was watered down—his cue to leave. He felt he had fulfilled his
obligation for the evening, and no one would miss him at this point.

Ryan turned back to the
table and set the glass down. He stood up and smoothed out his blue silk tie,
lifted the two-button, charcoal suit jacket hanging from the back of his chair,
and slipped his arms through the perfectly tailored Gucci wool. He rolled his
shoulders up and down a couple of times to make sure the jacket rested on him
comfortably and turned to the doorway. He took one step toward the door before
he ran head-on into the tiny maid-of-honor, almost toppling her over.

She pulled her delicate hand
up over her head to avoid spilling her champagne as her body pushed up against
his. Her wide hazel eyes stared directly into his, and she flashed him a sexy
smile.

She let out a soft moan and
bit her bottom lip. “Mmmm…You're hard.”

Ryan stepped back, shocked. “Excuse
me?”

Her smile returned, and
tension swelled in Ryan’s groin.

“Your chest. It's hard.”

“Are you drunk?” It was the
only think he could think of to say. Most of the girls who acted like this in
the bars in New York were already three sheets to the wind. This girl, however,
didn't look like she was drunk. She just had a look of lust in her eyes, and
they were pulling him into her trap. She was good.

Ryan ran his eyes down the
length of her body. She had a small build and her body was tight, but her
breasts looked like they were going to burst from beneath the sheer layers of
the bridesmaid's dress. Her skin glowed, and her mouth invited much more than
the champagne she raised to her lips.

“I swear this is only my
second glass.” She placed a manicured hand on his chest. “Do you work out?”

He raised his gaze back to
hers. She was exactly the type of woman he needed to avoid. Sex with a
bridesmaid after a wedding was never a good idea. They were always upset that
they weren't the ones getting married, so they tried to rein in some poor
bastard with the promise of sex.

Despite what his body was
telling him to do, he wasn't that stupid.

She would probably be a
great lay, and the throbbing in his pants reminded him he needed it, but it
wasn't worth the trouble of getting rid of her in the morning.

“Sorry. I don’t sleep with
women who swear in church.” He didn't really care. It was actually pretty
funny. He just needed any excuse to get rid of her, and after seeing how
embarrassed she was when she let that slip, he figured it would be a good way
to get her to go away.

She glided her hand up his
chest and around his neck. A shot of pleasure ran up his thigh and to the tip
of his member as she pulled him down to her.

She softly whispered in his
ear. “Have you ever tried? We sinners can be a lot of fun.”

Ryan removed the succubus
from his neck and pulled away from her. “No, thanks.” It was painful, and he
would so rather have her take care of the rising problem in his pants than have
to do it himself, but he walked past her and through the double doors of the
ballroom anyway.

Chapter 2

 
Alexis watched as the most attractive, and apparently
untappable, man in the room walked out into the silence of the hotel lobby. The
heat of his skin still warmed the palm of her hand, and she looked at it,
confused, as she sat down in the chair that he recently occupied. What had just
happened? Maybe she came on too strong, but if a guy had a guaranteed lay from
a girl like her, he didn’t just walk away. She could have any uncommitted man
she wanted. That wasn’t arrogance; it was a fact.

She wanted to forget about
him and find her next target. The reception was dying down now that people
noticed Caitlyn and Michael had sneaked out. With a quick survey of the room,
she realized the only men left were the groom’s nerdy friends and some of her
neighbors from Maple Field.

Tom gave a big wave and
smile at her, and she shuddered. This was not acceptable. She didn’t want a
short, stout doctor who could only talk about the best way to reset a bone.
There was only one type of bone Alexis was interested in, and she doubted Tom
had enough proficiency with it to satisfy her needs. Besides, if he was going
to make the cut, it probably would have already happened.

Soon she’d have to find
another venue, but she was stunned that she had been rejected with such ease.
That didn’t happen. Ever. And she resolved it wasn’t going to happen with this
guy either. Alexis wanted the Untappable. She wanted the mysterious guy with
the blue eyes she could light up if he gave her the chance. She wanted to muss
up his carefully styled, thick, dark brown tresses with her fingers and feel
the scratchiness of his short, thin beard against her skin. She had felt the
sharp definition of his muscles through his thin, white dress shirt. She bet he
looked fantastic naked.

Everything about the
Untappable was groomed to make it appear as though he didn’t care what he
looked like. She knew he did. It was too perfectly imperfect, and only a man
who cared about his appearance would take as much time as he did to keep his
body in that kind of shape.

Alexis rose quickly to her
feet and barely caught her balance on the shiny heels. She was going to sleep
with this mystery man if it took her all night. She smiled, secretly hoping it
would. She glided across the dance floor, destroying a large section of the
electric slide. She snatched her cream clutch from her seat and walked to the
door.

The lobby was in the center
of the hotel and was completely open to the glass roof. The hallways of each
floor circled the interior of the building and were visible from where she was
standing. A fountain cascaded from the top floor to a decorative pool near her.
Yellows, purples, and blues filled the plant boxes that lined the waist high
walls of each floor. The smell of chlorine from the indoor swimming pool filled
her nostrils as she scanned the room floor-by-floor. She noticed Untappable
just as he stepped off the glass elevator on the east side of the third floor.

She watched as he strolled
down the hallway, finally stopping and disappearing into a room across the
building from the elevator. Alexis didn’t know who designed this building, but
she wanted to send him flowers for making it so easy to stalk someone back to
his room. It was the best thing that happened to her all day.

Alexis nonchalantly walked
over to the elevator. There was no need to rush now that she knew where she was
going. As the elevator doors swooshed open before her, she paused. What if he
was out of her league?

She let out an audible
giggle. No one was out of her league. He was just playing a different game, and
Alexis was an all-star in multiple sports.

Alexis snapped open the
brass clasp of her clutch and pulled out a tube of Clinique lipstick in Sassy
Spice. She leaned toward the polished doors of the elevator to use them as a
mirror. Just as she was finishing her bottom lip, the elevator jolted to a stop
at the third floor, and the color smudged just past the corner of her mouth.

“Mother fu...” She groaned
to herself.

Before the elevator doors
opened, she was able to remove the excess color with a swipe of her right index
finger and check her teeth for any stray food particles. When she stepped out
of the elevator she was confident she was going to get her kill.

Alexis stood in front of his
door. She shook her head and ran her fingers through the waves in her hair. The
hair dresser had curled her hair tightly, but after eight hours, it had begun
to relax. It was to her advantage. It was sexily tousled and framed her face.

She lifted her right arm and
made a loose fist to rap on the door then put on her best sultry smile when she
heard the movement behind the door. Before the average person could feel the
pangs of regret, the door swung open.

It was hard for Alexis to keep
the smile on her face while suppressing a gasp. The man standing before her
wore only a pair of blue and white plaid boxer shorts, and the sight was as
beautiful as she had imagined. Alexis’s eyes were drawn across his defined
chest where a fine patch of dark hair twirled like Van Gogh’s
Starry Night
.
Her gaze then moved down the smooth bulge of each of his abdominal muscles and
settled on the edge of the elastic waistband sitting low on his hips and
revealing the beginnings of a beautiful v-shaped groin.

Oh, yes. He would more than
do.

Lust coursed through her
veins, and Alexis wanted to jump him right there in the hallway. The way she
saw it that would be perfectly appropriate under the circumstances. He should
be expecting it.

But one look into those icy
eyes, and she knew it wouldn’t be that easy. She’d be lucky if he didn’t slam
the door in her face. He didn’t.

“I heard a rumor no means
no.” He stared deep into her eyes, unflinching.

“Never liked the word.”

It was true. As a child, she
hadn’t heard it a lot. As an adult, she found that it didn’t often apply to
her.

“Listen, I appreciate the
offer, but I don’t want to deal with a bridesmaid who doesn’t feel loved. Find
some other sucker to trap.”

He began to close the door,
but Alexis slapped her hand against it and pushed against his movement.

“I don't care about feeling
loved. I want an orgasm. And I want you,” she placed a French tip in the center
of his hard chest with her other hand and resisted the temptation to run an
open palm along the contours of his muscle, “to give it to me.” She licked her
lips, eyeing the man before her, and saw a flash of desire in his eyes.

The fabric of his boxers
began rising in the front, and she knew she almost had him. Once he was
thinking with his dick, she would get exactly what she came for.

He stood behind the door a
bit to conceal himself and said, “It's best if we don't do this. Better I crush
your dreams before I have my way with you. I’m a gentleman like that.”

“Dreams? I want your body
for a couple of rounds, and then I'll leave. You don't even have to tell me
your name. I won't tell you mine. It will be a simple exchange of services.”
She raised the three middle fingers of her right hand up to her shoulder. “Scout's
honor.”

His gaze ran the length of
her body twice. His eyes narrowed when they returned to her face. “You seem
desperate, and I don't know you.”

“We obviously have a mutual
connection somewhere. We were at the same wedding. And I am not desperate.” She
placed her palm on the door, and it gave to her pressure, allowing her to move
closer to him. “I just know what I want.”

§

This was a bad idea, and
Ryan knew it. But a beautiful woman just offered him no-strings-attached sex
while he was half-naked, and she was now close enough to him that he could feel
her hot breath on his chest. This was not what he had expected when he opened
the door. Turn down service with a smile: yes. A hot-blooded brunette insisting
on having her way with him: no.

He should have slammed the
door in her face when he first saw her bronze skin and pouting lips. She was
trouble. The kind of trouble he didn't need. But something stopped him from turning
her away. The allure of a woman showing up out of nowhere to bed him was too
surreal. Maybe he’d write his own letter to Penthouse. Maybe he’d read one she
inspired.

His dick was now giving her
its undivided attention, which meant he was having trouble focusing on anything
logical. “If you don't leave right now,” he started, using all of his willpower
to keep himself off of her, “you're gonna be stuck with this decision. I'm not
going to be your boyfriend. I'm not going to meet your parents.” The first half
of the sentence was a courtesy; she was already stuck with this decision. He
just wanted to make sure she understood the arrangement before he pulled her
into his room.

“I promise. You will never
have to meet my parents.” She gave him a coy smile. He detected a hint of
sadness in her eyes, but it was gone with the next moment. It made him
hesitate, but when she ran a smooth fingertip down his chest and then hooked it
in the waistband of his boxers, he forgot all about his reservations and the 
having to kick her out of his bed—and his life—in the morning.

He briskly ran his fingers
through her wavy hair as he grabbed the back of her head and pulled her to his
mouth. Her mouth was soft, and the firmness of her kiss created a sexy contradiction.
She was confident and skilled. Ryan ran his tongue over hers, and she let out a
barely perceptible moan that sent a shot of pleasure across his skin. It had
been a long time since he made a woman moan, and he had forgotten how much he
liked it.

She pushed herself against
his body as they moved into the room. Their hot kisses didn't stop until the
door clicked shut behind them. He pulled back, taking her bottom lip with his
teeth as far as it would go. She shot him an angry look when he stopped, and in
less than a moment she was going back for more. He grabbed her wrists with both
hands and pushed her into the wall. Her little purse fell to the floor, and the
contents spilled everywhere. He looked down at the dozen or so shiny square
packages that littered the carpet.

“I see you came prepared.”
He slammed his body against hers and playfully bit her neck.

“I always come,” she paused
for a second to suck on his neck, “prepared. Gentleman’s choice.”

He met her mouth again, and
the wetness of her kiss made him even harder. She brushed her pelvis in small
circles against his, and he began to throb with want. Her tight body managed to
wriggle its way from beneath him, and she walked into the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” he
demanded. “You can’t just start something like that and then lock yourself in
the bathroom.”

“I wasn't going to lock you
out. I want you to join me.”

She slid her hand up the
side of her body and to the top of her strapless dress. Her fingers grabbed the
zipper under her arm, and she pulled it down along the curve of her body.
Within moments the dress had sunk to the tiled floor and around her ankles, but
once the dress was gone, he didn't care where it went. He just wanted it to
stay away.

She revealed a black
strapless bra that clung tightly to her large breasts. Golden mounds peeked
over the top, begging him to release them. His eyes followed the lace that
rimmed the bottom of the cups, and then his gaze lowered to a thin piece of
matching lace that left nothing to the imagination.

The gold heels kicked away
the pile of sheer fabric, and she looked up at him with inviting eyes. Eyes
that screamed “screw my brains out.”

She held out a hand to
beckon him to her, and then Ryan watched as she disappeared behind the bathroom
door. As though there was a string that tied the two of them together, he
followed the sound of her heels tapping against the tile.

In a brief moment of
lucidity, he ran back and grabbed one of the condoms off the floor. He entered
the bathroom to find his sex-goddess standing in the sunken shower with the
frosted glass door wide open. She looked at him intently as she turned the
water on. The shower head came to life and rained cold water onto her head.
Drops crawled down her body, and her bra and panties became soaked. Two stiff
peaks formed at the center of her breasts.

She licked the water off her
lips and then bit her bottom one as she released the hooks on the back of her
bra. It fell to the floor. He stepped into the shower, closing the door behind
him and rushing over to the hard nipples that called out to his mouth.

He flicked his tongue over
her cool nipple and then enclosed it with his lips. She moaned audibly, and it
gave him more vigor. He ran his hands the length of her body, stopping at the
triangular mound still covered by lace.

She reached into his boxers
and ran her fingers over the top of his burning head. Her soft hand reached
farther down and squeezed his length. He bit her shoulder to keep from calling
out. Her hand glided along the length of his shaft twice, and then released him
for a moment to push his boxers down to the drain and out of her way.

As she stood, he let his
hand slide down her stomach and into her panties. He felt her slick moisture
and slid a finger along her clitoris. Her head tilted back into the stream of
water.

“Mmmm… I love that,” she
exhaled. She took in several quick breaths. Her eyes remained closed as she
straightened her head. She caressed his thigh with her fingertips, and his
erection pulsed with pleasure when she ran her fingers along his sack.

“Are you ready for me?” she
asked. The condom he had been holding was now between the fingers of her other
hand.

“I'm not going to get any
more ready.”