A Wicked Truth (49 page)

“May their union bring forth many children.” Tanek's mother gave the appropriate response to my father's statement.

I didn't look at Tanek as our families and the others turned and walked out. I waited until the doors closed before I took my arm from Tanek's. The room was lit with candles, giving me an eerie feeling of dejá vu. I remembered my dream. The way my heart had raced, my hands shaking. My pulse was beating fast now, and my hands trembled, but it wasn't the same. Before, it had been all about desire, passion, the need to join with him, to be complete. Now, it was fear and anger, each one warring for dominance.

Before either one could win, Tanek's hand was buried in my hair, pain shooting through my scalp. I let out a pained yelp and he twisted my neck around.

“Silence!” he hissed. “Your guards will remain outside the door all night and I do not think you would like what will happen if they interrupt.”

I swallowed any other sound I might have made. I didn't know what exactly he would do, but I knew it wouldn't be good. Any hope I'd had that tonight wouldn't be painful for me had vanished, but at least Halea would be safe.

I clung to that thought as Tanek dragged me over to the bed. I couldn't completely suppress the pained moan when my knees struck the floor, but it wasn't loud enough to be heard. Cool air caressed my thighs as Tanek pushed my dress up around my waist.

“It is our wedding night,” Tanek said as he yanked down my panties. “And I will have your virginity.”

My mind didn't process his meaning until he spat and I felt his finger inside of me…not where I expected.

“I assumed you were not
that
much of a whore to your American men, and it seems I was right.”

I grabbed the sheet and shoved it in my mouth just in time to stifle my scream.

Chapter 18

Reed

The white silk robe perfectly complemented her dusky skin, but she was even more beautiful without it than she was with it. I watched as the material slipped from her shoulders, revealing the body that had been haunting my every waking and sleeping moment.

“Why are you staring?” she asked as she sauntered towards me. “You have seen many women naked before, including me.”

“Just enjoying knowing that you're mine.”

One arm went around her waist, pulling her towards me. The other cupped the back of her head. Her mouth was soft and sweet under mine. She tasted of peaches and cream. Her breasts pressed against my chest, nipples already hard.

I slid my hand down to her ass, cupping the firm cheek. Her tongue curled around mine and I pulled her more tightly against me. My skin burned everywhere it touched hers and I walked her back to our bed.

Our bed.

Our room.

I loved the word.

I loved her.

I kissed the top of her head and brushed a few curls from her face. My family. Nami and our children. They were all that mattered. I didn't care if I lost everything else, as long as I had them
...

I woke slowly, rolling towards the far side of the bed, arm outstretched. For a few beautiful seconds, I thought I could feel her next to me. My wife. And our children would be waking soon, running in to see if we were already up. Beautiful children with the perfect blend of Nami and myself. Each one unique and amazing. The family I'd always wanted.

My eyes opened as my fingers found the space next to me cold and empty. With the sight came the truth, hitting me hard enough that I struggled to breathe. Nami was married, but not to me. She would bear children, but not mine. The life I'd imagined, the family in my dream, neither of them were real. Pain shot through me, and I turned my face towards my pillow. The future I'd thought I would have had disappeared hours ago when Nami had spoken her vows. All I had left now were dreams, and the taste they left in my mouth was bitter.

For the first time, I wished I'd never met Nami Carr.

***

I considered staying in my hotel room and drinking alone, but knowing that Nami was probably, at this moment, preparing to go to bed with her new husband, I felt like drinking by myself would be an entirely new level of pitiful. I didn't feel like trying to find a club, mostly because it would remind me of how Nami and I had first met, but also because I didn't particularly want to be around people. I snorted a laugh. I was too proud to drink alone, but I didn't want anyone around either. A club was usually where people went to interact with others. I wanted to be left alone, which meant a bar.

I considered leaving the hotel and having a cab driver take me somewhere, but in the end, I didn't feel much like that either. Fortunately, the hotel had a bar and that was just a short walk from the elevators. I made my way down there after a shower and dressing. If I’d stayed in my room, I wouldn’t have bothered with either.

I took a seat at the bar, as far from the television as possible. I didn't want to see all the news stories about this morning's festivities, or worse, speculation about what was occurring right now. I didn't want to think about what she was doing.

“Give me shot of the hard stuff and keep the bottle close by,” I said to the bartender when he came my way. “The best you have.”

He nodded and went for the top shelf stuff. I tossed back the first shot without even tasting it, but it burned on the way down and that was what I wanted. I went slower with the second, sipping at it and trying to savor the flavor. It was good, much better than I'd expected, and it wasn't anything I'd tasted before. When the bartender came back to fill my glass again, I asked him what I was drinking.

“Saja's finest rum,” he said in thickly accented English. “We do not have much variety made here, but our quality is excellent.”

“Yes, it is,” I agreed. Judging by the pleasant buzz now going through my head, it was strong too, and at the moment, that's what I cared about.

I had a fairly high tolerance for alcohol. Not quite as much as some of my friends from back in college, but I could hold my own. People were often surprised at how much business was conducted with the assistance of alcohol, and the last thing anyone wanted to do was sign a contract while drunk.

Tonight, however, I didn't have any business to do, no reason to stay sober. I'd only been truly hammered a few times in my life, and none of them intentionally. Well, not until recently anyway. No matter why I'd done it, I hadn't particularly liked it, and I definitely hadn't liked the results the morning after, but I knew I was about to do it again. Despite knowing that I'd most likely spend all next morning hugging the toilet, I wanted the oblivion that only alcohol could offer.

I was a couple steps past tipsy and heading towards slurring and staggering when a tall, dark-haired woman sat down next to me. I blearily glanced at her out of reflex, but then turned back to my drink.

“American or European?”

Her voice was lower than I would've expected, husky in that sexy kind of way that I was sure made men sit up and take notice. Or at least had a similar effect on a specific body part.

I turned back towards her. It took my eyes a moment to focus and I knew I was pretty close to plastered. The alcohol didn't stop me, however, from appreciating a pretty face, or a killer body. She had to be at least five ten, but with curves rather than skinny. Her hair was black, not brown as I'd first thought, and long. Dark eyes and tanned skin. She was the sort of woman who men would fall over themselves for just a chance to get her in bed.

And apparently, my previous disinterest had intrigued her.

“American,” I answered her question late, but she hadn't taken her eyes off of me since asking it. “Reed.”

“Lona.” She held out her hand, palm down to let me know that she didn't want to shake.

I grasped her fingers and brushed my lips across the back of her hand. Good for me, I could still be smooth when I was drunk. She leaned towards me, giving me a good look at her ample cleavage. She was dressed sexy, but not slutty. I supposed there was still a possibility that she was a hooker working the hotel bar, but I was going to go with believing she found me attractive.

“Are you here on business?” She touched my knee. “Or pleasure?” Her fingers moved up my thigh.

I laughed and she gave me an amused look. “It wasn't business, but it definitely hasn't been a pleasurable trip either.”

That wasn't entirely true, I knew. Images of Nami flashed into my head, memories of her beneath me, of her expression when she came. Until the moment she'd sent me away, the trip had been very much about pleasure.

“Perhaps I can change that,” she said. Her hand curved around my thigh, her fingers brushing against my crotch.

I cocked my head and squinted at her, trying to figure out if she was hitting on me, or negotiating her rate for the night.

“I know what you are thinking.” She slid her hand over and cupped my crotch. “And the answer is no.”

“No?” I raised an eyebrow, spreading my legs open a bit more to allow her better access. Her fingers felt amazing.

“I am not asking for money.” She stood and put her lips against my ear. Her breasts pressed against my arm.

“Then what is it you want?” I asked. She smelled like flowers and my nose twitched, wanting to sneeze.

“This.” She squeezed my cock and teased my ear with her tongue.

“You just randomly come up to strangers in a hotel bar and grab their dicks?” The words came out a bit more directly than I'd intended, but then again, I hadn't really meant to say anything to begin with. I blamed the alcohol.

She grinned at me. “When my friends bet me that I cannot get the handsome American into bed, I do.”

I returned the smile, wondering if it was as goofy as it felt. “I wouldn't want you to lose a bet on my account.”

“I have a room,” she said.

“You're a tourist?” I asked, surprised. I'd thought her accent sounded like Nami's.

“Not precisely.” She shook her head as she took my hand. “I am from the other side of Saja. My friends and I came for the wedding and did not want to drive home late.”

My stomach lurched. “Wedding?”

“Ah, yes, you are not from here. The princess of Saja was married this morning.”

“And you were invited?” Shit, that sounded rude. Still, I was more worried about keeping one foot steady in front of the other.

“I am a journalist,” she said as we walked onto the elevator. “A small, online magazine, but all of Saja media was invited.”

I grabbed her around the waist, spinning us so that her back was against the wall. The spinning wasn't good for my head, but the thought of having to listen to her talk about Nami's wedding was worse. I covered her mouth with mine, swallowing whatever else she was going to say.

She tasted like tequila. Her tongue danced with mine and she ground against my thigh, moaning at the friction. I moved down her neck, nipping at the skin there, biting and sucking until Lona's fake nails dug into my back hard enough to make me gasp.

The elevator doors dinged open and I pulled back. “This isn't my floor.”

“No,” she smiled. “It is mine.”

Right. She'd mentioned a room. I let her lead me down the hallway, stealing a look down at her ass when she stopped in front of her door. Damn. She had all the right curves and an ass I could bounce a quarter off of.

For some reason, that idea struck me as funny and I barely suppressed a laugh. I didn't think Lona would be too happy if I started laughing like an idiot when I should've been concentrating on getting her out of her clothes.

When we stepped into the room, I quickly realized that wasn't going to be much of a problem. She apparently hadn't been expecting me to take off her clothes at all. She'd barely gone a few steps before she stripped off her dress and revealed that she hadn't been wearing anything underneath it.

Her skin was smooth and unblemished, her nipples a deeper shade of brown. She had the kind of body most men only dreamed of. And then she went down onto her knees.

“Fuck,” I breathed.

“Yes,” she said. “But I would like to taste you first.”

Her hands made short work of my pants, tugging them down around my thighs and taking my underwear with them.

“Very nice,” she said approvingly.

“You ain't seen nothing yet.” If I'd been a bit more sober, I would've thought the statement inane. Now, it just seemed witty.

She wrapped her hand around my cock. Even soft, I was bigger than average. She worked her hand over my shaft for a couple strokes, then leaned forward and took the head between her lips. I closed my eyes, trying to concentrate on the feeling of her mouth, the wet heat, the suction.

I couldn't just focus on the sensations though. It wasn't what I wanted. Lona knew what she was doing. Her hands and mouth did all the right things. But I didn't want someone who was skilled. I wanted passion, not just for my body, but for all of me. I wanted different hands, a different mouth. I could imagine Nami, the sight and feel of her, but my body didn't respond because I knew it was fake.

I sighed and opened my eyes. Lona was still lavishing attention on my cock, but I knew it wasn't going to work. I was half-hard, but that was purely physical. Between the alcohol I'd consumed and the thoughts of Nami, I wasn't going to be able to do this. I didn't want to do it.