Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I stay quiet for another minute, and then I look down at the dress bunched around my waist, and— “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What?” Sebastian asks.
“It’s torn. You tore my dress, you scoundrel.”
“I didn’t hear you complaining.”
“You’re correct. I wasn’t complaining, but I am now. What am I supposed to do, Sebastian? Change?”
“Why not? You should have plenty of dresses.”
“I don’t have an identical dress. Everyone will know what we were doing up here.”
“Who cares?”
“I do.” I pull the dress over my breasts and hold it in place. “I should have never come up here.”
“As I recall, it was your idea,” he says.
“My idea?” I shake my head. “You’re the one who wanted to ‘fuck me up against a wall.’ You’ve got some nerve.”
“I have nerve? I’m the one with blue balls here.”
“You think a woman can’t have blue balls?”
“I think you’d have to have balls first, which I’m pretty sure you don’t.”
I clench my jaw. “You know very well what I mean. I don’t know what I was thinking.” I open the door, glance both ways down the hallway, and then scurry to the stairwell and walk another flight up to the third floor where my suite is.
My petulance has dissipated somewhat when I reach the hallway, only to find Ariel sitting outside her room, which is next to mine.
“Ariel?” I walk to her, still holding my dress around my chest. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ve made a complete ass of myself is all. I don’t belong here.”
“What do you mean? I saw you with Brett Dawson earlier. You seemed to be doing fine.”
She shakes her head, sniffling. “I want to go home.”
“Don’t be preposterous. We all agreed to this, no matter how horrid it may be.”
She sniffles again and meets my gaze. “What happened to you?”
“I did something stupid.”
“We have that in common then.”
“Come on.” I hold one hand out to her, the other still holding my dress in place.
She takes my hand and stands. I lead her to my room.
“Check your makeup. Touch it up. I have to fix my dress.” I’ve repaired worse defects seconds before a model takes the runway with double-sided tape and a smile. I reach into the top drawer of the chest for my sewing kit— “Damn! Where is the dratted thing?”
“Can I help you?” Ariel asks.
“Yes, please. I need my sewing kit, or a safety pin or any kind of fastener. I know my sewing kit is here somewhere. Look in the night table, will you?”
She paws through the drawer. “Nothing, but I’ve got a safety pin in my room. Hold on a minute.”
I heave a relieved sigh. The sewing kit will turn up, but I need a quick fix.
Ariel returns quickly, and in another few seconds, my dress is pushing up my breasts once more, the safety pin nicely hidden.
“You’re a gem, Ariel. Thank you.”
She smiles. “You’d do the same for me.”
“Of course. Let’s get your makeup fixed and then go back down. The men are doing some sort of welcome thing.”
She sighs. “I don’t know.”
I tip her chin up. “Come on. We’ll go down together. If anyone asks, we…we had to get tampons. That will shut them up.”
“We can’t say that,” she gasps.
“Do you have a better idea?” I wipe the mascara stains from under her eyes with a makeup cloth.
“Not really.”
“They probably won’t ask anyway. If the men are talking, no one will even notice us.” I touch up her blush and add some lip gloss. “There. Good as new.”
Ariel peers into my mirror. “Thanks, Emily.” She turns to me. “Now…about your lipstick.”
“Oh. Right.”
Kissing Sebastian Tate did a number on my makeup as well. One look in the mirror is a reminder. My lips are tender and swollen from his magnificent kisses. Too bad he turned out to be a first-class arsehole.
When my face is satisfactory, I grab Ariel’s arm. “Ready?”
“I suppose.”
“No suppose. You’re ready. You take this place by storm, Ariel Tanner. Repeat after me. I deserve to be here.”
“I deserve to be here,” she says softly.
“Louder.”
“I deserve to be here!”
I smile and draw in a breath of our mingled perfumes—hers is floral, mine more earthy, with a touch of Sebastian Tate. “Damned right you do. Now let’s go see what kind of hot air those four are spewing down below.”
“All right. I’ll go. As soon as you tell me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“What kind of kisser is Sebastian Tate?”
I let out a sigh. “Only the best on both sides of the Atlantic, love. I’m seriously fucked.”
EPISODE 8
A CENTAUR-IFIC VIEW
River
While I wait for Evangeline’s “introductions” to kick off, I scan the area. Two women are missing, along with Sebastian.
Damn, Seb. A threesome already?
I’ve never been in a threesome—it’s not like they come my way that often on a Montana ranch—but I’m open to the possibility. Anything goes on this island, as long as the women consent.