Cupcakes and Mistakes (Dorset #1)

ONE

Reilly

“Stop shifting them about, your boobs look fine!” Sarah chastises me.

“Remind me,” I say, “why wasn’t I allowed to use the tit tape?

” Or wear jeans and Converse? Although, I wouldn’t dare ask her that.

I’ve already been told to cheer up tonight.

I’m not hiding my disappointment well, and I’ve kept the reason for my mood close to my chest. My day started with another failed meeting at the bank, where I was denied a business loan, again.

The rejection stings the third time so much worse than the first. My friends will supply the right level of sympathy and encouragement, but right now I want to wallow.

“Remind me, why am I hooking up with a stranger?” I ask, still shifting my dress about, trying to get comfortable. Sarah bats my hands away so I don’t ruin her fine work.

“Because you haven’t been laid since you ended it with Twatface Timathy, and you don’t have time to date.

So when you need a little release, which you do, your best option is to have hot sex with a stranger.

” She holds my face between her hands for a special Sarah pep talk.

“Women like sex too! You are strong, sexy and capable. You. Want. To. Be. Fucked.” She smooshes my cheeks on the word fucked, to really drive the point home.

“It’s Tim, not Timathy,” I mumble, not willing to get into it again.

She knows, but gave my ex the nickname as she thought it suited him as a pompous twatface.

Tim was a twatface; and lived in a delusional reality in which he thought we were compatible.

He was charming and good looking, which should have been my first clue.

He relentlessly pursued me and – because of my desire for validation – I allowed it.

It took me a year to realise I was his little charity project.

He thought he would scoop up poor clanky Reilly and turn her into his trophy girlfriend.

But no amount of designer clothes or nights out in fancy restaurants could turn me into something I’m not.

I am who I am, and that’s good enough for me. It took me too long to realise that.

I blow the curls out my face, discreetly pulling the dress up and eye Thea in the mirror.

She’s busy fixing a random girl’s make-up, the poor thing is barely old enough to be here.

She’s just trying to have a night out with her friends, have drinks, maybe kiss someone in a dark corner.

Now she’s being accosted by a posh woman in her early thirties doling out unsolicited life advice.

Between teaching her how to highlight her cheekbones and where to invest her pension fund, that young woman is coming away tonight a little more clued up on how to be an independent woman in today’s society.

Something I don’t think any of us really have the hang of.

“Are you done fixing people, Thea? We’ve got champagne to drink.” I desperately try to rally her. The sooner we get back out there, the sooner I can go home. I’m done with the champagne though. The bubbles have gone straight to my head.

It’s Thea’s birthday, and she and Sarah have dragged me out with them.

I hate clubs, the air is suffocating and the atmosphere is sticky.

Don’t get me wrong, this place is nicer than most but it’s not my scene.

I’d rather be at home, curled on the sofa with my dog.

But nope, I’m here; tits up and out, and on the prowl. The things we do for friends.

As we leave the bathroom we are waved over by Thea’s date, Barnaby.

“Great, he’s still here.” Sarah rolls her eyes.

“Be nice, babe. This one might last past the third date,” I whisper out of Thea’s earshot. I try to balance out Sarah’s fierce protectiveness, but it’s not easy when this guy comes across as a downright fool.

“We’ll see.” Sarah purses her lips and narrows her eyes in the direction of said fool. Even if I couldn’t hear her words, I would still be able to feel her distaste from the daggers she’s shooting the group of guys.

Giving me a peck on the cheek, she manages one last glare at Barnaby before she slinks off to find someone to play with for the evening, leaving me and Thea with the ‘team’ as Barnaby had referred to himself and his friends earlier.

They’ve bought another bottle of champagne, and one of them sidles up next to me, placing a glass in my hand.

“No thank you. I’m on the water now.” I give him a polite smile. He ignores this and thrusts the glass into my hand. I set it down and grab my bottle of water, holding it up to accentuate my point.

“Come on, love. Lighten up.” He removes the water and shoves the glass back into my hand. Rude.

Not wanting to make a fuss, I reluctantly take the glass.

I’ll nurse it slowly, make myself small until he gets bored and moves on.

He smirks at me, making me shiver. He’s got “creepy city wanker” written all over him: slicked-back hair and a three-piece suit.

The white powder residue on his nose doesn’t help the image, along with the classic coke twitch – and he’s getting a little too close for my liking.

“You live near here?” he slurs into my ear, his hot breath making my insides cringe.

“No, I don’t. Excuse me.” I’m not naive enough to give this man any information about myself. I pop down my glass, grab my water and go to walk away. Before I can make it a comfortable distance, he grabs my upper arm.

“Woah there, little lady, we haven’t finished our drinks yet. Maybe we could go take a little walk out to the terrace.” SkyLounge bar is at the top of Waterview Hotel. It has a huge terrace overlooking Bournemouth Beach. The view is stunning, and he is the last person I would want to enjoy it with.

I try to pull my arm away but his grip tightens, and I grit my teeth at his audacity.

“Back off.” I make my voice strong and firm.

I lean towards him, trying to meet his height.

Like how you’re supposed to react when you meet a bear in the woods and you have to be big and loud to scare it off.

Not that I would know … not too many bears here in Dorset. Plenty of aggressive men though.

Despite my display of confidence, I don’t feel big and loud; I am completely out of my depth.

But luckily he can’t see that, he only sees the rage on my face.

As he looks over my shoulder, his eyes widen as he sees my two girls who I can now feel behind me.

I imagine their faces are both filled with fire as well.

He steps back and holds his hands up in retreat. “No harm. I’ll back off.”

All the breath leaves my body. That could have gone a different way, as it has for so many before. I turn to plead with the girls to leave, but I’m met instead with the face of a man so beautiful it’s disorientating.

So it wasn’t the combined action of feminine power that chased off Mr Snowy Nose. It was the fear which could only be instilled by another man.

Fuck it, I’ll take that.

“Are you okay?” he rasps. His eyes appear dark, with frown lines I want to reach up and sooth, as he tracks the other man across the room.

“Err, yep,” I squeak out. Keep it together, Reilly.

I clear my throat, hand on my chest trying to dislodge my voice.

The corner of his mouth twitches as he flicks his gaze back to me, and his face softens as he stares down at me for the first time.

“Thanks,” I say. “He was a little arrogant.” I try to laugh it off. Keep it light.

He studies my face and then looks over to where the guy has stalked off to, then he motions to the bartender, leans over and whispers in her ear.

She takes in what he’s saying and is immediately on her radio.

A man like this commands respect; act now, ask questions later. A man not afraid of consequences.

A commotion snags my attention as Barnaby and his friends are frog-marched out of the bar. Good riddance, arseholes.

Thea comes over, after being left standing alone as her date was asked not so politely to leave.

“Barnaby’s being removed,” she states, neither concerned nor surprised. Maybe Barnaby wasn’t making it past the third date after all.

“You left your friend,” my protector scolds Thea. She looks from me to him and back to me, concerned.

I push my hair back from my face, trying to control the wisps which are now sticking to my forehead.

Her eyes track my fidgeting as she asks, “What happened? Are you okay?” She rubs her hands up and down my arms, soothing me in a way only Thea would.

My handsome saviour is at my back again and the heat of his body shrouds me.

“I’m fine. One of the guys got a little handsy.” I try to tamp down the tremor in my voice.

“Shit, babe, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise. Come on, we’ll grab Sarah and get out of here.”

This is the thing about my friends. We may all be in our own worlds, and scamper about with no rhyme or reason, but when we need each other, we act.

The man lightly rests his hand on my shoulder, turning me round to him. The movement is weighted in control. “You have your friends back. I’ll leave you to your night.” He steps back, air moves between us and I immediately miss the overpowering safety of him.

“What’s your name?” I ask, as he starts to leave.

He stops and cocks his head, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Elton.”

“I’m Reilly. Thanks again.” I hold my hand out and he takes it to shake.

“Any time.” His mouth lifts into a charming smile, and two dimples pop out. Jesus Christ, I curse the gods who made him, that they made only one. He turns to Thea and nods in my direction. “Take care of her.”

As Thea tugs at my hands and leads me across the bar in search of Sarah, I take one more look at Elton. His eyes track me across the room, his firm jaw set into a smirk.

Why am I walking away? This is exactly what Sarah said I needed.

He rubs his hand across his mouth and pockets it back into his suit trousers. There’s an arrogance to him that is most likely well earned.

My libido has taken a slump since my break up and that man over there is the perfect palate cleanser. If it’s going to be one night, then Elton is the sort of man to restart my insides and send me on my way happy and sated. Sarah would be so proud of me right now.

Taking a deep breath and thanking Sarah for pushing me into this – and making sure I wasn’t covered in tit tape – I put my big girl knickers on and make my way back to him. His eyes haven’t left mine and I hope my walk of pride is more sultry than desperate.

“You’re back.” He smiles as he takes in my position in front of him.

Taking the glass from his hand I help myself to a sip, before placing it on the bar behind him.

“I didn’t want to cut the night short,” I tell him, snaking my hands up his arms and around his neck, feeling the hard muscles of him. The crackle of anticipation builds. My fingertips ghost over his skin.

“Dance with me,” he says, pulling me into him and directing us to the middle of the dance floor.

I move in time with the music, pushing myself into him, leading him, letting him know what I want.

His hands tighten on my waist, a reaction.

I grind against him. My body is alive; the buzz of arousal courses through me.

The music changes and so does my rhythm, and he takes my hands and spins me around, pulling me back against him. I fit perfectly. Resting my head back against his shoulder I move to give him full access. A phantom kiss at the base of my neck makes me shudder.

Freedom overtakes me and I find the confidence to show him exactly what I’m after tonight. So when I spin back to face him and find his eyes hooded with desire, I am suddenly unable to breathe.

My breath hitches as his hands cup my jaw and I lean in close so he can hear me over the thumping base. Just shy of his lips, I ask him to join me outside.

I need air.

I have my answer when he drags me through the crowd and out the large glass doors onto the terrace. The night air is cold and hits me enough to calm me down, until he sets his eyes on me again. The blood is thumping through my veins.

Flustered? Yep. Hot? Yep. Horny? Undeniably.

He steps towards me and with one hand pushes me back into the alcove next to the seating area, up against the wall. He doesn’t take a second to crash his mouth onto mine.

Fuck.

I kiss him back with the same fire and passion. He grips me harder and pushes me into the wall. I moan into his mouth, completely at a loss. My whole body reacts. No kiss has ever sparked me like this.

He steps back suddenly, putting much needed but definitely unwanted space between us. His eyes go wide and he scans my face, bringing his hands up and tracing his thumb along my lower lip. I close my eyes, panting, willing this storm inside me to calm. Is he feeling the insanity of this as well?

“Don’t stop,” I beg him. That’s all the invitation he needs. He’s back on me and I grab at his shirt, slipping a hand around his neck under his collar, pulling him down towards me. But I need more, I need to be closer, so I push myself onto my toes.

“Take me home with you,” I command between kisses.

“Are you sure?” All I can do is nod as his smile melts me.