Chapter 6
Liam
Plunging into the final pool, I let my breath out as I break the surface. Pushing my hair back, I blink the water out of my eyes and look around for a blue eyed beauty.
I’ve searched all the other pools in this complex for Jordan, including the lazy river where Nate and Savanna are, but my search has turned up empty. Her bag is still at the loungers we claimed a couple hours ago, guarded by a sleeping Brody, so I know she’s here somewhere.
Avoiding me.
That was pretty obvious when she hightailed it out of there when Brody and I first showed up to the pool. The way she scurried away from us—from me—and screeched when Savanna touched her arm? Yeah, pretty good indication she’s not keen on facing me.
Then again, I had a feeling when I woke up to an empty bed this morning that was the case. Normally I prefer it that way. A girl sneaking out is best case scenario for me if I’m not the one leaving after a round or night of sex.
Jordan doing it to me, though… in the words of Brody, ouch man.
I rub my chest, feeling the little grooves her nails left in my skin.
They sting a little, but I welcome the feeling.
It brings back memories of last night and how mind-blowingly good it was.
The eager little minx was putty in my hands, ready and willing to do whatever I wanted her to, and then some.
Though that was reciprocated. While she may not have started off vocal, she got louder and louder in her wants and needs with each orgasm I wrung from her insatiable body.
The only thing I didn’t get to do was eat her out again.
Dude, focus!
I’ve got to stop thinking about last night. There’s some major damage control I need to do before I can relive anything with enjoyment because I know Jordan isn’t okay. And I know I’m the reason.
Nate reading me the riot act over the scratches the “hellcat” left behind didn’t help matters.
She hardly said a handful of words after that.
The embarrassment was clear as day on her face and when I met her eyes, I hated what I saw.
Shame. Regret. Humiliation. All the things I didn’t want her to feel.
All reasons I kept asking if she was sure last night.
Groaning, I sink lower into the water and start moving in the direction of the built-in waterfall.
It’s the only place I haven’t checked yet, and I’m praying to god I find her on the other side.
I’m not the type of guy that normally talks this kind of shit out—I don’t need to since I don’t make a habit of fucking my friends—but I need to make things right with Jordan.
Even if she never wants to speak to me again after this, we need to clear the air and gain some sort of normalcy back in our friendship.
If we don’t, people will know something is up.
Like I suspect Savanna already does.
The pool area, and the pool itself, isn’t that busy.
Given that it’s only Wednesday, I guess that doesn’t surprise me, but I am grateful for it.
I’ll bet by the weekend the population in this place doubles.
Today the quiet works in my favor. I can see one lone person through the water rushing from its ledge overhead, and my gut tells me that person is Jordan.
Ducking under the waterfall pouring from above, I move into the space beyond, rubbing my hands over my face to rid myself of the droplets threatening my eyes. When my vision is clear, one corner of my mouth turns up at the sight before me.
With her legs hanging in the water and her hands in her lap, she sits there in her pretty yellow bikini, scowling at me. Apparently she didn’t want to be found, least of all by me.
“Go away, Liam.”
Glancing around her little hideout, I wonder how long she’s been here and how cold she is.
With the overhead manmade rocks and the water coming down, there’s not a lick of sun that shines in these parts, and the air is cool.
Cooler than it is on the rest of the pool deck anyway.
The water is warm though, so perhaps she hasn’t been sitting on the edge that long.
“No can do,” I tell her, moving in her direction. When I reach the ledge beside her, I pull myself out of the water, turning around to sit next to her.
“I do not want to talk to you,” she says, sliding off of the edge and into the water.
As she moves, however, something catches my eye and in a flash I’m back in the water with her. “Whoa, whoa. Hold up.”
Now, I love women. I may not want to be in a relationship with one, but I love them.
They’re beautiful, capable, and can see the world in different ways than a man can.
Generally, when it comes to them, I try not to be a dick.
They know what the score is, I’m not rough unless I’ve got consent, and I try not to touch unless invited.
But I make an exception in this moment.
Grabbing Jordan under her arms, I lift her back up onto the edge of the pool as she cries out in protest. “Liam! Stop! What are you doing?”
“Hold the fuck on,” I tell her, but it’s not in the same demanding voice I used with her last night. Today it’s filled with concern.
The tops of her thighs are battered with bruises. An entire line of them from one thigh to the next. My eyes have to be deceiving me because I know for certain they weren’t there last night.
Tilting my head up, I find her watching me assess her. A gentle curiosity meets me as her chin tucks in and she chews on her bottom lip. Tentatively, she reaches out, touching one of the scratches on my chest.
“We both did a number on the other,” she says quietly.
I exhale. “Fuck.”
Nate would fucking kill me if he knew.
Giving her a once over, I stop at her sides.
I didn’t touch the bruises on her thighs, but now I finger the mark I find on her hip.
One, two, three, four. And I’ll bet the fifth one is just outside my vantage point.
Fingerprints. My fingerprints. I don’t generally get to see the results my handiwork has on the women I sleep with, so I’m a little caught off guard by the discoloration of her skin.
“Do they hurt?” I ask, bringing my eyes back to hers.
She laughs, shaking her head. “Not really. Not like certain other parts.”
I wish I could laugh like she is right now, but I’m completely somber. Eyebrows furrowed, I place my hands on the ledge on either side of her, my chest half an inch away from her knees. “Jor, seriously. Did I hurt you?”
“How much do these hurt?” She pokes at one of the cuts just above my nipple.
My eyes narrow at her. Answering a question with a question doesn’t bode well with me. Nate won’t need to kill me if I hurt her, I’ll do it myself.
“They don’t.” It’s not the full truth. They sting a little, but it’s the good kind of sting.
“That’s how much these hurt,” she tells me, pointing at the bruises on her thighs. Her voice drops to nearly a whisper I’m not sure I’m supposed to hear when she adds, “They’re just little reminders of how good last night was.”
Despite the conversation at hand, I smirk. Just a little. “You thought it was good, huh?”
With a roll of her eyes, a toe is suddenly pressed into my stomach, pushing me away. “You know it was. Don’t make me say it.”
Grabbing hold of her ankle, I run my hand up the length of her calf to the underside of her knee. I’m rewarded when she blesses me with a full body shiver and doesn’t try to pull her leg away. Damage control may not have been as bad as I thought.
“Tell me how good.”
Her chin juts out as she looks away, over my head and beyond, probably looking at the pool deck to check and see if anyone we know is around. I’d be shocked if Nate and Savanna left the lazy river any time soon with the way they looked so relaxed in the pool floaties.
“C’mon,” I goad, her legs parting of their own accord to allow me to step between them. The move feels as natural as breathing, and it brings her attention back to me. “I don’t generally talk to the women I sleep with afterwards. Tell me.”
“You know, saying shit like that would get you kicked in the balls by a lot of women,” she tells me, her legs fluttering through the water.
“You know me though. You know how I operate, and you’ve never had a problem with it before. Is it a problem now?” I raise an eyebrow at her.
There’s a hesitation in her that I didn’t expect. Her throat moves as she swallows, and once again she won’t meet my eyes. Finally, with a sigh she says, “No. I knew it was a one night thing.”
There’s a dejection in the way her shoulders fall.
I saw it last night in the lobby bar more than once, and I hate that.
I hate that I took away her sadness last night, only to be the cause of it today.
I don’t want to be the reason for any misery when it comes to Jordan.
I’ve always been her rock. The one to pick her up on the days she was feeling down.
The one to make her smile when every other man, sans Nate, made her world a darker place.
And yet, that other man should stop me in my tracks from thinking that one night wasn’t enough with Jordan.
That I would love to throw my own rules out the window and spend another night showing her how fucking perfect she is.
But he doesn’t. Nate, as much as I love him like a brother, doesn’t factor in. Not for me.
“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. We’re not going home until Sunday,” I hedge, letting the implication hang between us.
Exhaling a deep breath, she shakes her head. “What happened last night should stay with last night.”
The disappointment smacks me in the center of the chest. It’s a feeling I’m not accustomed to, nor do I enjoy. One more reason sticking with one-night stands is a far better option. There’s no disappointment, no frustration, no suffering. One night is one night.
I should have seen this answer coming before I made the mistake of throwing the option out there. Jordan disappeared for god’s sake. This morning, and when I showed up at the pool. Of course she doesn’t want another night with me.