Rough Draft: Big Easy (8 page)

“We haven’t been here an entire day. Don’t you think it’s too soon to make that call, to declare this a failed venture?”

“Whatever. The point is you’ve been floundering, struggling to find your footing.” Then another thought occurred to her. “I’m pretty sure it’s this state of panic you’ve been in lately that has you thinking you’re interested in me.”

He frowned. “That’s not true.”

“Nothing has changed between us except the scenery. You’re grasping for something, anything to make you forget your writer’s block. I get that. And I’m actually sort of flattered. But you need to find another cure. Digging into a juicy murder investigation sounds like a much more effective way for a crime writer to break his mental block than lying around in the sun all day, pounding Coronas and Vodka Tonics and trying to get into my pants.”

“You know, lots of famous authors have also been famous for their alcoholism. Hemingway, Poe—”

“I don’t need the list.”

“And you’re wrong about you and me.”

Carissa wasn’t sure how to respond to the absolute assurance in his voice. So she held her tongue, stepped off the elevator and started walking toward their room. Once they were inside, Carissa found herself in the same place she’d been a few hours earlier. Staring at the bed she and Jett had to share.

“It’s been the longest day in history, Rissa.”

She laughed. “You’re right. It has.”

“So let’s do what you suggested by the elevator. Table it all until tomorrow. Every single one of these issues is still going to be here when we wake up.”

She gave him a rueful grin. “Could you be any less consoling? Whatever happened to ‘nighty night, don’t let the bed bugs bite’?”

“You find that more comforting?”

She grabbed her pajamas and headed toward the bathroom. She turned at the doorway. “Sweet dreams, Jett.”

He tugged off his t-shirt and jeans as she fought like the devil to feign indifference. Once he was down to his boxer briefs, he gave her a wicked wink, climbed under the covers and claimed a spot closer to the middle than the edge. “Good night, Rissa.”

He turned off the lamp on his side of the bed and sighed contentedly. Clearly he was going to be much better at this platonic sleeping together than she was.

Exhaustion was no match for her hormones.

“Shit,” she muttered as she closed the bathroom door behind her and donned her PJs. She studied her tired face in the mirror. “Note to self, next time you fly off to paradise with your best friend, pack Dramamine, heavy duty sleeping pills, tequila and more than one vibrator.”

Carissa watched the sunrise cast yellow shadows across the ceiling above the bed. Her thirty-seventh glance at the clock told her it was only five minutes later than the last time she’d looked. She and Jett had fallen into bed around three a.m. She’d managed all of three hours of sleep before her eyes popped open—wide awake, her body overheated and her pussy clenching hungrily. She’d never been so horny in her life.

God. Her need was physically painful. She twisted and turned, but still couldn’t find a position that alleviated the throbbing between her legs, the hunger for sex. To make matters worse, Jett was sleeping peacefully only a foot away from her, oblivious to her agony. It was his fault she was so hot and bothered. He’d set this fire in the dungeon, then left her to simmer.

Bastard.

She took several deep breaths, tried to count sheep, willed her body to calm the fuck down. None of it helped.

“Screw it,” she muttered. She slowly climbed out of bed, careful not to wake Jett. She could only imagine what he’d do if he woke up and discovered her in such a state. Actually, she didn’t need to imagine. She had a pretty good idea of exactly how he’d handle it. And while it was more tempting than a chocolate ice cream cone on a hot summer’s day, there was no way she could give in to what Jett wanted. She didn’t mix sex and friendship.

Which was obviously why she didn’t have a boyfriend, she thought, rolling her eyes at herself.

Regardless, if she couldn’t do casual sex with Jett, couldn’t give in to that friends-with-benefits offer of his, there was no way in hell she could go for what he’d proposed last night, which sounded less booty call and more relationship.

God. No way.

If she slept with him, she’d fall in love, and despite what he said, she wasn’t sure that was really what Jett wanted. He was just in freak-out mode over the writer’s block. Once he sorted that out, everything could go back to normal.

Reaching into her suitcase, she pulled out the vibrator she’d buried beneath her clothes and tiptoed into the bathroom. Given her current state, she wouldn’t need more than a few minutes with her lovely toy. Then maybe she could get some sleep.

Shutting the bathroom door behind her, she was dismayed to find the lock broken. She’d have to call the front desk later to see about getting it fixed.

Carissa stripped off her pajama shorts and walked to the sink. She hadn’t bothered to turn on the light. She knew her way around this particular area on her body very well in the dark. God knew she’d spent plenty of time perfecting the act of masturbation. That thought was depressing as hell, so she didn’t bother to dwell on it.

Turning on the water to drown out the noise of her toy, Carissa switched the vibrator on low, then placed it against her clit. She jerked roughly. She was hornier than she realized. Her pussy was hot and wet and ready for whatever relief she could provide.

She closed her eyes, letting the soft vibrations work their way deeper as she pushed the head of the toy inside. Her breathing became more labored as she started thrusting the vibrator—shallowly at first. She inched in incrementally with each retreat and return, teasing herself.

Carissa had only just pushed the toy home, lodging it deep, when the bathroom was flooded with light. She blinked against the sudden, blinding brightness, helpless when she felt Jett’s arms surround her from behind.

The sound of running water ceased as he turned off the faucet. Then his large palm wrapped around her wrist, keeping the vibrator inside her.

“What are you doing?”

She squinted as her eyes began to adjust to the light. Finding his reflection in the mirror, she pointedly ignored her flushed face. Her cheeks were bright red—the perfect blend of embarrassment and arousal.

Carissa fought hard to regain control. Jett’s arrival couldn’t have come at a worst time. Her orgasm had been only a handful of thrusts away. Now she was teetering on the razor’s edge of agonizing need and mortification.

She swallowed heavily, then cleared her throat. “I think that’s pretty obvious.” The response didn’t sound as strong as she’d hoped, her voice weak, breathless, pained.

Carissa expected Jett to make a joke. It’s certainly what the easy-going friend she’d always relied on would have done. This Jett didn’t crack a smile. In fact, he looked downright pissed off.

Which left her unnerved. And fucking hot.

She closed her eyes in an attempt to stem the sudden flood of arousal his possessive stare provoked.

“You’re right. It
is
obvious.”

Carissa looked at him, confused by the almost hurt tone in his voice.

“Jett—” She started to apologize, even though she didn’t understand what exactly she was sorry for.

His hand still engulfed her wrist, the muffled sound of her vibrator filling the silence in the room.

He released her. “Turn that thing off and take it out.”

She lowered her eyes as she did as he commanded. She couldn’t understand it, but somehow Jett’s presence hadn’t dimmed her hunger. If anything, she needed to come even more. Her pussy clenched against the plastic, resisting as she pulled the toy out. She gasped, the sound betraying how close she was.

Jett’s gaze narrowed, but he made no move to stop her.

Carissa needed to get out of here, to get away from him. Unfortunately, there was nowhere to go. It was six a.m. and they were sharing this room. She supposed she could go hide in the lobby for a few hours, but what would that solve? It was the beginning of the vacation. She couldn’t avoid Jett for the next six days.

Unless…she inquired at the front desk about another room.

She didn’t have the money in her savings account to cover the cost and it would put a big dent in her credit card, but it would be worth it. She couldn’t stay in this room and
not
have sex with Jett. Carissa just wasn’t strong enough to resist whatever the hell this was.

She tried to hide the vibrator by her side, grateful she hadn’t taken off her t-shirt. The material was long enough to cover most of her private parts. “I need to get out of here,” she said, not bothering to look at Jett as she spoke.

She turned, intent on leaving.

Jett chuckled, the sound devoid of mirth, as he grabbed her upper arm. “You’re not going anywhere.”

He took the vibrator away, then used his grip to drag her back to the bedroom. Carissa put up a fight, resisting him. There was no way she was getting back in that bed. However, while Jett typically hid his muscular form under loose-fitting t-shirts, there was no denying he had her beat in the physical strength area.

Her struggles were useless. Jett continued to guide her to the bed with far too much ease. When they reached the side of the bed, he tossed the vibrator onto the nightstand, placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her onto the mattress. She tried to bounce back up the moment her ass hit the sheets, but Jett was ready for her.

He placed one knee on the mattress as he propelled her downward, not stopping until she was flat on her back in the middle of the bed and he was straddling her.

Their position—her defenseless beneath him—fired up a fresh round of arousal that left her lightheaded, dizzy, out of control.

“Please.” The word escaped her lips on a whisper, betraying her.

Rather than spur Jett to show mercy, it seemed to release something wilder, more demanding in him. He reached toward one of the posts of the bed. She blinked rapidly when she realized there were straps attached there.

“Where—”

“They were here when we arrived.” Jett answered her question before she could answer it. “You didn’t notice them?”

She shook her head. God only knew how she would have reacted if she had. Bondage had ranked number one on her list of sexual fantasies for as long as she could remember, but she’d never had the courage to try it. Mainly because she’d never been with a man she trusted enough.

She tried to free herself from Jett’s relentless grip, but he didn’t even bother to feign gentleness. She’d triggered something primitive with her actions, pissed him off with her masturbation. He wasn’t going to set her loose until he was good and ready. And given the heated desire in his eyes, she’d guess that moment wasn’t going to come any time soon.

So much for escaping.

Jett strapped a cuff around her left wrist. At that point, she stopped trying to fight. It was pointless. She wouldn’t win. She didn’t want to.

Jett restrained her right hand quickly. Carissa tested the strength of the straps. She knew good and well she couldn’t get loose, but some part of her needed to know for sure.

Jett placed his hands on the pillow beneath her head, his knees straddling her hips, caging her in. She’d never felt so trapped, so helpless, so horny.

“Let’s run through what happened here, so I’m sure I’ve understood this all correctly.”

She licked her lips nervously. His voice was deep, laced with an anger she’d never heard from him.

“What do you mean?”

“You couldn’t sleep?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Why not?”

She felt her face flush. He knew full well why not. “Jett—”

“Say it, Rissa. Tell me why you couldn’t sleep.”

She hesitated for a moment, then realized he wouldn’t stop until he’d heard the truth. “I was horny, you jackass! Happy?”

His expression darkened, letting her know exactly how unhappy he was. “So you decided to take care of that little issue on your own?”

She nodded.

“Where did you get the vibrator?”

She scowled. “It’s mine. I brought it from home.”

“You brought it from home? Even though you knew you’d be sharing this room with me?”

“I wasn’t planning to have sex with you, Jett. I told you that.”

“And you thought I’d just sleep through this nightly self-love fest of yours without comment?”

“I didn’t realize you could hear me. Besides, I sort of imagined you’d find some woman to hook up with and disappear most nights.” She gave him a sheepish grin, wishing she could find a way to make him relax. Humor had always worked in the past, so she gave it a try. “You’re not a bad looking guy. I’m sure there are plenty of women here who would be more than happy to—”

“Were you in that dungeon with me? Did you hear a word I said?”

For the first time, Carissa felt her own anger spark. “I heard. And I refused. I said no to the friends-with-benefits thing back home and I sure as hell didn’t agree to be your sub for the week. In case you failed to notice, I said the safe word.”

Carissa tugged against the straps at her wrists, wishing for the first time she could free herself.

A change came over Jett’s face, so suddenly it took Carissa a moment to understand it. His dark expression cleared and the laid-back Jett she’d been friends with for years reemerged. Or so she thought…until he spoke.

“You should have woken me up, Rissa. I could have helped you with your problem.”

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of it myself. As you saw.” Her words were spoken with more bravado than she felt. She hoped it would fool him, make him see her as off-limits.

Those hopes were dashed when he reached toward the nightstand and retrieved her vibrator. “There’s a big difference between being capable and being truly pleasured.”

Carissa tried to swallow, though her mouth had gone dry. Every drop of moisture appeared to travel to regions south. She pressed her legs together, the action not lost on Jett, who grinned, then slowly shook his head.