Four Day Fling Read online

  “She looks pretty,” I muttered. “She says she’s going back to school to do a business and marketing course, but we’ve been waiting for that for two years.”

  “In other words, she’s getting married, will claim she’s going to school, and miraculously get pregnant again.”

  I pointed at him as we sat down. “We have a pool going about when she goes back to school, and that was my answer.”

  “Can I get in on that?” He undid a button of his shirt and leaned back on his hands.

  “No. I need that five hundred bucks more than you do.” I paused. “Also, I don’t think I actually have a hundred bucks spare to pay my share, so, come on Mark’s sperm.” I crossed my fingers.

  He laughed. “I’ll lend my support to Mark’s sperm, so you don’t have to pay a hundred bucks. But, hey—since it’s also my vote, if it happens, I’ll pay your share.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Thanks. Charity is so hot.”

  Another laugh. “Think of it as we’re a team in our choice.”

  “That sounds better.”

  “So, I have a question.” Adam rolled his head to the side and looked at me. “If your family has money, why don’t you have a spare hundred dollars?”

  I sighed and leaned back on my elbows. “Because,” I said, looking at him, “I’m a waitress at the Cheesecake Factory.”

  His lips pulled right up.

  “What are you smiling about?”

  “I just really like cheesecake.” He fought a laugh. “So, my next question. If they have money, why are you a waitress at the Cheesecake Factory?”

  “Because I did one year studying law and decided that being lorded over by my mother in both my personal and professional life would drive me to jump off a cliff by my twenty-fifth birthday. As you can see, I passed that without my death,” I said. “My dad is a hotshot lawyer, and my mom is a paralegal. That’s the family business. Until they snuff it, I’m serving cheesecake to people who probably shouldn’t be eating a whole lot of it.”

  “I want to say that sucks, but you made that choice, so…good for you.”

  “It’s not all bad. Sometimes, I get to take the leftover cheesecake home. Which was why I had to lose ten pounds before this wedding,” I muttered.

  “Really? You had to lose ten pounds? Where did you lose them?”

  “Somewhere in the middle of DisneyWorld. Although, if that were the case, they’d have found me again.”

  Adam chuckled. “True story. I have to stay away during the season, or that place messes up my entire diet.”

  “You go to DisneyWorld?”

  “Four sisters. One is married, one engaged long-term, and two nieces and a nephew. I take the kids. They go for the magic, I go for the food, and I get major uncle and brother points. Everyone wins.”

  “I really need to steal Rory more often.”

  “Does your family live in Orlando?”

  I shook my head. “My parents split their time between Miami, where the law firm is based, and Key West. They’re old enough now that they can work part-time for the most part. And Rosie and Mark live in Fort Lauderdale.”

  “Where were you born?”

  “Hey, you’re asking an awful lot of questions for someone who wasn’t embarrassed earlier today.”

  His eyes sparkled. “Fine. You go. Ask me whatever you want. I’m an open book.”

  “Okay.” I pretended to think. “Why didn’t you tell me you were an uber-famous hockey player?”

  “I told you that already.”

  “I know. I just wanted you to know that I’ll never let you live that down.”

  He nodded slowly. “Point taken. I’ll do better next time.”

  “Damn right you will. Okay, where were you born?”

  “In Orlando,” he said, eyes still on mine.

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-eight. Twenty-nine in October.”

  “What made you want to play hockey?”

  “Ooh.” He tilted his head to the side. “I don’t really know. My family has always been big lovers of it, and both my grandad and my dad played it in school, but my dad kind of petered it out in college when he realized he wasn’t really good enough to make the major leagues.”

  “But you knew you were?”

  “I got on the ice when I was four for the first time. It was an easy thing to become obsessed with, you know? My dad would take me to all the home games for the Storms, and I guess I just felt at home on the ice. I was the worst teenager ever. I didn’t party or go wild. I had great grades and it meant I could get a scholarship to college for hockey.”

  “Woah.”

  “That sounded like a shocked whoa.”

  “Kinda. Remember that I know nothing about any sport. Not a single one. Except that baseball pants are God’s gift to women.”

  He laughed, dropping his head back.

  “I’m just saying,” I fought my own laughter, “That it’s crazy. My sister said you were a star forward, but I don’t know what that is.”

  “Uhh…”

  “Wait, do you know what that is?” I teased.

  He reached over and nudged me. “I’m trying to explain it in a way you’ll understand.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” He winked. “I’m an attacking player. So, it’s my job to score, pretty much.”

  “Oh. How the hell was that hard to explain?”

  “You think baseball pants are God’s gift to women. First, that’s me. And second, they have to wear cups, so that impedes access.”

  “I’m gonna skip over the bit where you think you’re God’s gift to women and agree with you on the cup thing,” I said. “So, this might sound stupid, but have you won anything?”

  “In hockey?”

  “No, in football.”

  He side-eyed me. “I wouldn’t take that sarcasm if you weren’t so cute.”

  “Great. I went from being hot earlier to now being lumped in with newborn kittens and bunny rabbits.”

  He laughed again, and goosebumps dotted my arms. “Yes, I’ve won things. How can you live in Orlando and know nothing about any kind of sport?”

  “The same way city people live in the country and know nothing about cleaning out chickens,” I retorted. “I don’t care about it much, so I don’t know anything about it.”

  “Wow. So, you’re dating a hockey player and you don’t care what he does.”

  “Fake dating.”

  “Same difference.”

  “If I’m fake-dating you, I should probably know what you’ve won. You know, so I don’t look like a freaking moron if anyone asks me,” I finished dryly.

  Adam sighed. “Boy, I’m really never living that down, am I? You weren’t kidding there, Red.”

  “I never lie. I’m incapable of it. Unless you’re my mother.”

  “This entire weekend is a lie.”

  I paused. “Look, if you’re gonna be technical about things, this relationship just isn’t gonna work, hockey boy.”

  “Really? That’s what you’re gonna call me? Hockey boy?”

  “You call me red because my name is Poppy, and my hair is red. Both lame reasons.”

  He sat up and held up his hands. “Okay, okay. I won the Dave Tyler Junior Player of the Year Award when I was seventeen, and since going pro with the Storms, I’ve won the Stanley Cup three times.”

  I stared dumbly at him. “See, I thought that would help, but…no.”

  “You don’t even know what the Stanley Cup is?”

  “Aside from the fact my disinterest in sport is already firmly established…Do I look like the kind of girl who follows hockey?”

  He turned and looked at me. From head to toe, his gaze took in every inch of my body, and I did my best not to react like it was bothering me.

  Because it was. His gaze was too slow and too careful to not bother me.

  “No, you don’t. Not at all.”

  I swallowed and dropped my gaze for a second. “Righ
t, so explain these awards and cups and things to me. Before someone mentions it and I—”

  “Look like an idiot. Yeah, I know.” His lips curved to one side and he reached out, gently pushing hair from my face. “The Dave Tyler Junior award is given to the best American-born player in Junior Hockey. I quit after that so I could focus on college.”

  “And the Stanley Cup?”

  “The top prize in the national league. The one everyone wants to win.”

  “And you’ve done it three times?”

  “In six years.”

  “Wow. Even I know that’s impressive.” I smacked my lips together. “Do you think that’s enough get-to-know-you for one night?”

  “Depends. What do we do now?”

  I pulled my phone from my clutch and glanced at the time. Ten-thirty. “I have to be up early. I have to taste-test cocktails and pick three to be served at the wedding, and I’m doing that at lunch, so…” I closed my clutch back up, securing it with the clasp.

  “So…” Adam muttered, reaching over to me. His hand slid into my curls and he cupped the back of my head.

  “So.” My breath hitched because I knew exactly what was going to happen.

  The King of Kissing was about to kiss me.

  And he did. His lips covered mine, and shivers ran down my spine at the exact same moment. I lifted one hand to the side of his neck and slowly fell back so I was lying flat on the sand.

  Adam flicked his tongue against the seam of my lips. He leaned his upper body right over me, kissing me deeper as I parted my lip. His tongue toyed with mine, and sparks of lust shot right between my legs.

  I just wanted him to carry on. I wanted to stay in this little bubble on the beach, with his hand in my hair and his lips on mine. With this other hand traveling down my body and over the curve of my hip as mine both cupped his neck.

  He tasted of whiskey and coke, and he smelled like my next big mistake.

  His fingers dug into my ass as the kiss deepened even further—hotter, more desperate, more needy.

  “Oh, my goodness!”

  I jerked away from Adam at the sound of my mother’s voice.

  Of course.

  Of. Fucking. Course.

  This was the story of my life, wasn’t it?

  I looked up to see Mom looking at us. “Um. Hi, Mom?”

  “I was—never mind!” she turned on her heel and walked back to the hotel as quickly as she could, barely even stopping to make sure the heels of her Jimmy Choos didn’t sink into the grass if she missed one of the stones that made up the path between the hotel and the beach.

  “That was awkward,” I muttered, rolling away from Adam.

  “You think it’s awkward for you? My cock is trying to escape my pants. That’s awkward.” He sat up and looked at me. “Ah. Yeah. You have a little…” He scratched at the side of his mouth.

  I wiped the side of my mouth and pulled away some smudged lipstick. “Did I get it?”

  He nodded. “Come on. It’ll all be off soon enough anyway.” He helped me up from the sand, grabbed my shoes, and laced his fingers through mine.

  I knew exactly where this was going. And I wasn’t even mad.

  CHAPTER SIX – POPPY

  Cocktales and Cocktails

  Adam tapped the card against the sensor. It beeped bright green, and he pushed the door open. His hand was still firmly linked through mine, and he pulled me inside. My body was against his and our lips were together before the door had even clicked shut.

  He tossed the keycard onto the sofa and, with his hands on my hips, lead me into the bedroom. I broke the kiss to drop my clutch on the TV unit, but it only lasted seconds.

  Adam’s fingers splayed across my lower back. I wound mine in the collar of his shirt as he kissed me, dipping me back just slightly. His tongue once again teased mine, the kiss deepening and going straight to the heat we’d had when we’d been interrupted.

  I wanted to wind my fingers in his hair, but I also wanted his shirt off. It was quite the conundrum, but when one of his hands crept up my back and clasped hold of my zipper, my choice was made.

  My fingers went to his buttons. I undid two, and as he unzipped my dress, his fingertips brushed against my skin, leaving me tingling wherever he’d touched me.

  My heart was beating double-time, and my clit throbbed like crazy.

  I wanted him.

  All the buttons undone, I tugged his shirt out of his pants. He reached up to pull the straps off my shoulders at the same time I moved to push his shirt down, and we had a weird minute of push and pull that ended with us both laughing.

  Adam shrugged off his shirt and threw it to the floor. He kissed me as he hooked his fingers beneath my straps and slid them over my shoulders and down my arms.

  We spun, and he kicked off his shoes, pushing me down onto the bed. I bounced on the soft, downy cover, but I barely had a second to think about just how soft it was before Adam pushed me right down to my back and leaned over me.

  He kissed me thoroughly before his lips trailed over my jaw. He kissed down my neck, taking my dress down my body as he went. He stood, pulling it all the way down my legs, and left it to join his shirt on the floor.

  He explored my body with both his hands and his mouth. From my collarbone to my naked chest and over my nipples to the waistband of my underwear. He was relentless and methodical, kissing every inch and touching even more.

  He pulled my underwear to the side, his mouth almost trailing the path of it as he pulled it. It took him no time at all to find my clit with his tongue and get to work. He played it like magic, knowing exactly how to tease and toy to get me to cum. It circled and spiraled and flicked until my hips were bucking beneath him and I could barely breathe as the orgasm took hold of my body.

  He loved it, holding my pussy in his mouth until I was limp in his hands.

  Then, he stood, tossing his underwear to the side. The condom came out of nowhere—I couldn’t fucking see, he’d damn well blinded me with that orgasm—and he parted my legs as if he were meant to be between them.

  The head of his cock rubbed my clit a few times before he finally pushed inside me. It was relief of the most devilish kind—perfect yet torturous at the same time. I didn’t know what he had in store for me, but I still wanted it.

  Wanted him.

  He didn’t hold back. His hands slid up my body until they were positioned either side of my head and mine were wrapped firmly around his neck.

  He fucked me deep and hard, driven by nothing but desire. My pussy clenched around his hard cock, and every second made me hotter and more anxious for the orgasm I knew was coming.

  My heart pounded, lungs tightening as I tried to get control on my breathing. I grasped at him as if he were an anchor to the Earth as the pleasure built in me. With each steady stroke of his cock, I came closer to the edge until I couldn’t take it anymore.

  I gave in to the hot flush of pleasure that flooded my body. The orgasm hit me hard, dangerously so, and my body arched and writhed in response to it.

  The strength he held me with said his orgasm had hit him just as hard as mine. We rode it out together until we both collapsed in a limp heap.

  He was good—so fucking good. My vagina honestly wanted to cry and weep and bow to his penis. That was just the facts of it.

  I nudged him off me after a minute or so. Hot sex or not, a girl needed to wipe and get panties. And pee. That was real life, and while pornstars might have gone to sleep like that, I was no pornstar and the camera wasn’t about to shut off on me.

  I made my way to the bathroom to clean up and grabbed clean panties on the way back. Adam had done little more than removing the condom and drop it into the trash.

  Still, that didn’t stop him rolling over and hugging me.

  “What are you doing?” I muttered.

  “Sleeping.”

  “People don’t touch me when I sleep.”

  “At all?”

  “At all,” I confirmed. “I can�
��t be touched.”

  He threw up his arms and rolled onto his back.

  Sighing happily, I got comfortable on my side, snuggling down.

  Adam reached over and grabbed my ass.

  I cleared my throat.

  “Compromise,” he muttered.

  And a compromise it was.

  ***

  I groaned and rolled over. There was a heavy as hell weight on my stomach, and I didn’t like it. And it didn’t make any sense since I couldn’t sleep when someone was touching me.

  I opened my eyes after a few heavy blinks and looked at the hand on the bed right next to mine. Slowly, I followed the tanned, strong arm from the hand up to the shoulder that belonged to Adam Winters.

  How had this happened?

  Slowly, I wriggled my way out of his hold and onto the floor. I was wearing nothing but a pair of panties, and I crossed my arm over my boobs as I tiptoed into the bathroom.

  I looked in the mirror. I was a mess. My eye makeup was smudged, making me look a little too much like a baby panda bear, and my lipstick was smeared at the corner of my mouth.

  I grabbed a facial wipe—or two—and cleared my face of the mess that had been created by sex and lots of kissing. As I wiped the final black smudges from my eye, I reached into the spacious walk-in shower and turned on the hot water.

  I finished cleaning my face and tossed the wipe into the trashcan next to the sink. Taking off my clothes took me all of two seconds, and I stepped into the shower under the hot water.

  I blew out a long breath as the power shower beat down on my shoulders. It worked my muscles as I rolled and twisted side to side, making sure my entire body felt the effects of the hot water.

  The door slid open.

  I turned with a jerk. “What are you doing in here?”

  “Showering,” Adam murmured, stepping up behind me, completely naked. He pulled the door shut and wrapped one arm around me. “What are you doing?”

  “Showering,” I said simply. “What else am I doing in a shower?”

  “I can think of a few things we could do in the shower.”

  “I’m sure you can, but this isn’t a porn movie, and I just want to wash my hair.”

  He laughed, kissing my shoulder, his head dipping under the stream of water. “So, wash your hair.”