Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
You’d swear I vocalized my inner thoughts when Zoya whacks me upside the head with a pillow. She mushes it with my face so well the static the velour material makes with my hair almost drowns out the buzz of our suite’s doorbell.
“Do you think it’s Maksim returning to finish what he started?” Zoya asks like she’s aware I’m using Aleena’s pending hen party as an excuse to hide in our suite instead of the one next door.
“He didn’t start anything.” She hits me with a look I will never live down. My best friend witnessed me orgasming. Trying to pretend I’m not mortified, I say, “But I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
After rolling my shoulders and fixing my hair like my low self-esteem hasn’t tried to convince me my facial expressions when climaxing were the cause of Maksim’s abrupt departure, I mosey to the door and open it.
“Hi…” I breathe out slowly, my confidence dipping when the person on the other side isn’t who I am expecting.
It isn’t one person. Multiple bodies are cramming the once spacious hallway.
The lady Aleena is meant to meet with this afternoon to get glammed up for her night out begins the parade of women and men of all shapes and sizes. A middle-aged woman with a rack of designer clothes ends it.
“Can we come in?” asks the pack leader. I think her name is Sandra.
“Of course.” When I move out of the doorway and gesture for them to enter, they pile in one by one, filling the space in under a minute. “Was this you?” I whisper to Zoya when the team commences setting up a glamour station suitable for an A-list star. It reminds me of the behind-the-scenes clips Zoya watches while waiting for the Oscars to start.
Zoya shakes her head before joining me at the side of the living room that now feels half its size. “All my party funds went to Maksim so he wouldn’t be out of pocket for my stuff up.” She bumps me with her hip. “And because I wanted to make sure you stayed with him purely for your greedy little self.” Her lips curl into a wicked grin. “Seems as if I misjudged your greediest organ. I thought it was your heart, not your—” I clamp a hand over her mouth before she can say another word.
Only once the flare of her nostrils announces she is a mouth breather do I release her from my hold.
For several minutes, we watch the team set up a glam station that would have any woman frothing at the mouth to participate before Zoya eventually saunters away from me, her hips swinging.
“Whoever organized this has class and money.” She waves her hand at the case of champagne a delivery man dumped just inside the suite’s door, not brave enough to enter a room that appears seconds from being overwhelmed by estrogen. “They wholesale for three thousand US dollars a bottle. I’d hate to see their retail value.”
Even announcing how pricy the bottles are doesn’t stop her from snagging one from a crate and cracking it open. She takes a generous swig before tilting the bottle my way.
“Are you sure?” she asks when I shake my head.
“I’m sure. The last time I drank, I woke up married. Enough said.”
After tossing her head back and laughing, she takes another hefty swallow and then passes the bottle to Aleena, who has entered the living room with her mouth ajar and her eyes misted.
Her excited response to being spoiled by her husband-to-be makes me wish Zoya would keep the gift giver’s identity a secret. Alas, she’s too giddy to keep quiet. “The last time you got drunk, you woke up married to a man who could easily afford this.” She twists the lock I wish her lips had and throws away the key before saying, “Maksim made me promise not to say anything.”
Aleena’s shoulders slump as fast as my heart rate climbs. “You just told me this was Maksim.”
“I did no such thing,” she denies. “I implied it was him. Totally different.” Before I can utter a single defense, she pokes me in the chest and cocks a brow. “And before you get all worked up, this has nothing to do with your eagerness to get freaky with him in a cabana in the middle of the day.” I want to crawl under a cushion and die when her words reach the women setting up a manicure station on our left. “He organized this before we went to the pool.” Guilt crosses her features for barely a second before it is overrun by sassiness. “I may have hinted that this is the best way to get over a hangover.”
“Z!”
“What? I had no clue he’d take my hints for a mini spa day this far.” Even if she were lying as straight as a line, her smile makes her appear as crooked as her bottom teeth before she got braces. “I’m kinda glad he did, though. Who doesn’t want to be treated like a princess?” She drags Aleena and me to stand in front of multiple stations you’d expect to find at a high-end spa, before asking, “What shall we do first? Pedi, mani, or a full-body massage?” When she notices the masseuse is tall, wide, and male, the devil on her shoulder decides on her behalf. “Him. Definitely him.” When I don’t follow Aleena and her to the Swedish giant, she cranks her neck back to peer at me. “Come on, Keet. Don’t be a party pooper.”