Running From Destiny Read online

  “Heather! What the hell....oh shit?” I sit up, covering my chest with the blanket, blinking my eyes and trying to adjust to the light. “Can’t you see I’m in bed, Heather? Who are all these people?” I peer at them through squinty eyes and there he is. The Suit.

  “I told you to get your ass back downstairs and when you didn’t come, I decided to bring the party up here!” Heather joyfully, and drunkenly announces.

  “Heather, you’re drunk. What the hell were you thinking? I told you I was going to bed. Geez.At least take everyone out into the other room and let me get dressed.” I glare at her with my bestYou’re so gonna get it look. A look I’m very proud of and tired of using on her.

  “C’mon guys and gals, to the Bat Cave!!” She slurs as she points to the other room like the Lone Ranger or something, her friends follow behind her and I remind myself to smack her in the morning. That’ll feel real nice with the hangover she’s bound to have.

  I take a deep breath and prepare to yank the covers off of me but look up instead, The Suit is still standing in the bedroom. “Excuse me.” I shoot daggers at him. And he chuckles.

  “There you go, excusing yourself again. You do that a lot, huh?” The corner of his lip raised and his eyes sparkled.

  “Umm, I’d like to get dressed so I can beat up Heather, if that’s okay with you.” I spit back at him. But he doesn’t leave, he comes toward me. No. He stalks toward me, like a tiger, or lion on a mission or something I’ve never seen before. It frightened me. Some. He sat down on the corner of the bed and stared at me. Stared! What the fuck does he want from me?

  “What are you doing?” I ask him.

  “I’m sitting on your bed, imaging what you sleep in and hoping very much that you’re naked under those blankets.” His eyes scanning the blanket that I had pulled up to my chin.

  I’m stunned. Flabbergasted. Dreaming, maybe? I poke him in the arm. Nope, not dreaming. “Um, I have on pj’s. And if you don’t mind, I’d like to get dressed. I have a murder to commit.”

  He laughed. Oh my God! He’s laughing at me, but he doesn’t move. His eyebrows raise as his eyes scan my body. Maybe his ex-ray vision still works.

  “Get out.” I say with a firm voice.

  “Okay, but only if you insist, sweet girl.” His voice is growly, like a cave man or something. I want him out of my room and off my bed.

  “Yes, I insist. Get out before I scream.” I’m shaking by this point. How could Heather just bring him up here and let him stay in here? Where the hell is she? Oh, I shoved her out the door along with her gaggle of friends. Why did this dude stay behind and why didn’t Heather come get him?

  Shit.

  He gently runs his finger along my jaw, down to my chin and proceeds to trace the edges of my lips with his finger. Holy cow. I need him to leave now, this is not happening. He stands and turns to leave, but as he gets to the door he speaks again, that damn growly, rough voice. “I’ll be right outside. Don’t keep me waiting.” And poof, he was gone. Though, I have a feeling he’s not gone far and if I don’t hurry up, he’ll be back in here in a flash dragging me out of bed.

  “Who in the hell does he think he is?”

  I jump up, grab my clothes and head for the en-suite bathroom. I look at my face in the mirror. Damn. I look like I was run over and hung up wet. I look at my watch and realize I had actually been asleep for over an hour. And here I thought I hadn’t even dropped off yet. I splash some cold water on my face to wake up. Then a bit of concealer to cover up the attractive crease on my right cheek, obviously were my pillow had been. Wow. They must be having a big ole laugh at me right now. I throw on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, as well as my grande boulder holder. Can’t head out there with the girls on display.

  Taking a deep breath, I throw open the door and march my way out into the living area of the hotel room, on a mission to find Heather. I count 6, no 7 people sitting around, drinking and talking. Holy crud, what does Heather think this is, a night club? I don’t see The Suit, so I move as gracefully as I can through the room straight to Heather.

  She’s sitting on some bloke’s lap, giggling and practically drooling on him. Real mature Heather. I tap her on the shoulder. “Ally baby! There you are! Join the party!” She slurs at me, obviously very drunk. She stands up and attempts to hug me, almost falling and pulling me down with her. “Heather! What the fuck!” I scream.

  By this point, I’m beyond angry. The room silences. Eerily silenced. You could hear a pin drop. “What’s your problem Al? I thought you had decided to lighten up a little. Cut loose, have fun?” She looks up at me through long, thick lashes that forgive me pleaselook in her eyes.

  “What’s MY problem? You really want to get into this now?”

  To tell you the truth, I can’t stay mad at her long. But my anger is going to last a whole lot longer this time around as I can’t remember being this furious before. “Heather, I was sleeping. It’s after ten o’clock and...” She cut me off.

  “Alexandra Louise Sanders. Listen to yourself. Ten o’clock? Really? You stay up later than this at home, watching David Letterman, or Johnny Carson....or whoever.”

  Daggers. Again.

  “Heather Michelle Langley,” Since she decides to use my full name in front of complete strangers, “I’m tired and I have a headache. I just want to go to bed. I’m not a partier like you, and had I known we would have a room full of drunk people, I would have never agreed to come with you.”

  Apparently the word “headache” draws The Suit to me. I can feel him behind me, the warmth of his breath skirting across the back of my neck. I stare at Heather and her eyes brighten like she’d just seen a puppy or a baby or something cute. Argh, I hate that look. Then two warm, strong hands land on my shoulders and squeezed. Oh no.

  I can’t figure out for the life of me why he’s even here. I don’t know him and not completely sure that Heather knows him, but she brought him up to our room. Can we say ‘stupid’? As those hands squeeze and massage, I let out a soft moan. Oh God, did I just moan? Lord help me, please. I step forward and turn around to see that yes, it is The Suit. “Did I hear you say you have a headache, Alexandra?”

  Why in the world did he call me by my full name? I hate my name. Ally is bad enough, but it’s better than Alexandra. Thanks Heather, for divulging my full name. I can’t speak and it takes a lot for me to hold my tongue. I step forward and turn around to see the most enchanting green eyes. “Wh…what are you doing?” I whisper, not wanting the entire room to hear me stutter.

  “You said you had a headache, I was trying to ease the pain for you a little.” He groaned in my ear.

  “Y-yes.” I stutter again, Shit! What the hell has happened to my lips? They worked fine a while ago. “I’ll just go get some aspirin.” And I step away, making a bee line toward the bedroom.

  I walk in and slam the door. I don’t mean to slam it. Yes, actually I do. I’m not happy having a room full of people I don’t know, so I lock the door and flop on the bed covering my eyes with my arm. As soon as I do, those emerald green eyes appear on the back of my eye lids. Those eyes.....crap. They’re beautiful, but full of trouble I’m sure.

  After a few seconds, or it could have been an hour for all I know, I roll off and go in search of my cosmetic bag. I keep basic stuff in there, band aids, antacids, and.....aspirin. I grab the plastic wrapped glass on the counter and fill it with water. I don’t do well with pills, so I have to chug a full glass of water just to get a small pill down. God I’m such a loser.

  I stand there and stare at myself in the mirror wondering why in the hell the Suit gets to me so bad. I chuckle inside, guess I don’t have to call him that anymore since I know now he has a name. Jackson Bentley. Even the name is sexy. I have to admit, he is gorgeous and probably commands attention, both inside and outside of the bedroom. Too bad I’ll never know for sure, because I’m about to kick everyone out of the room. Including, but not limited to The Suit.

  Chapter 5

 
; Actually, I don’t kick everyone out. I just crawl back in the bed and turn off the light. If they want to party until the wee hours of the morning, more power to them. I can hear them out there playing drinking games, laughing and I could swear, someone is having sex on the balcony. Gross! Who does that? Thankfully I don’t have to clean up after them.

  I believe that I had vaguely heard Heather knocking on the door a few times, and maybe even The Suit, but I ignore it. It’s hard to pay attention with the throbbing going on in my head. That’s what I get for having one too many drinks. Yeah yeah, I know. I only had two, but drinking is not my forte, and since one is typically enough, two was excessive. I finally drift into a heavy slumber.

  When I wake up, it’s quiet. Eerily quiet actually. I peer at the bright digital clock on the end table and it tells me it’s six a.m. Wow, I really slept all night. I’m on my side facing the clock and raise my arms over my head for a good stretch, while rolling to my back. As I bring my arms down, I realize I’m not alone. It’s still dark in the room thanks to the heavy drapes on the windows, but I can tell it’s definitely a body next to me.

  Assuming its Heather, I roll to my other side and take in the scene before me. Messy dark blonde hair, strong jaw covered in a bit of stubble. Full, sexy lips curled up into a sexy smile. And emerald eyes, staring right back at me. I jump out of bed and stand up, shaking my head thinking I’m dreaming. I rip open the drapes to add some light to the room, only it’s still dark. Shit. I knew this, good thinking Al.

  I turn back toward the bed and turn on the lamp. He’s on his side facing me, head up and resting on his hand. The sheets are low across his waist and he doesn’t have a shirt on. I’m speechless.

  A light dusting of hair cover his chest and amazing pectorals. Yes, I did say amazing. I’ve only ever seen pecs like that in magazines. The light hair continues down 4, no 6 rippling abdominal muscles. He has an actual six pack. Then the hair disappears below the sheet, and hopefully under his pants. God, I hope he has pants on.

  “See something you like?” He asks, jolting me out of my perusal of his body. Busted!

  “Umm, excuse me. What are you doing here and where is Heather?”

  “First of all, you need to quit excusing yourself. Second of all, I was worried when you didn’t come back to the party so I came into check on you. I was tired and your bed looked comfy, so I crawled in. Thirdly, Heather is fine and sleeping soundly in my room.” His eyes twinkle back at me.

  Damn, Heather is really going to get it when I see her. I’ve had it with her manipulating tactics to fix me up. When will she figure out that I don’t want to be fixed up? “Yeah, well. I’m fine now, you can go. Thanks for keeping me company, I think.”

  I shuffle into the bathroom and shut the door. Wait, I locked the bedroom door when I came in last night. How in the hell did he get in here? Did I even want to know? No, I’m thinking not. I just want him to go. I can’t think straight around him.

  I pee and brush my teeth, then drag a brush through my hair and pull it up into a messy pony tail. Well, more like a nub since my hair isn’t quite long enough for a full on tail. When I go back out into the room, The Suit’s gone. Did I imagine him? No, surely not. I took aspirin last night, not LSD. Then I hear someone in the living area moving about. Heather, she’d better be prepared for a fight, because I’m going to kill her.

  I yank the door open and no Heather. But The Suit is still here, picking up and throwing away beer and wine bottles. I scan the room and take it all in. “Damn, must have been some party last night.” I say as I spy the trash bag full of glass bottles.

  “Yep, you missed all the fun, especially Spin the Bottle.” He replies with a laugh.

  “Ah, no. I missed nothing then. I had a much better time in bed.”

  “Did you now?” His eyes pierced through me.

  “Look, I don’t know who you are or what you want. But it’s time for you to go back to your room. Send Heather back here so we can have a little chat please.” I turn my back to him. I want him to go, but at the same time I don’t. He truly is easy on the eyes, but so far out of my league. Like, really uncomfortable. Never has a man caused me to stutter and lose my train of thought.

  Calm, cool and collected Ally Sanders. Some might call that Little Goody Two Shoes. I think Adam Ant wrote a song about me, actually. But right now, I’m not having Goody Two Shoes thoughts. Right now, my thoughts are far from good. He stands there with his hands on his hips. His dress pants from last night on, but no shirt and my eyes take a plunge toward the v that dips below his belt.

  Damn he’s hot! Like, should be on the cover of a romance novel hot. That’s the only place I have ever seen a chest like that. He’s taller than I had originally thought, had to be 6’4”, and pure muscle. He must work out.

  I knock my head with the heel of my hand, of course he works out. Idiot. Seriously, I amaze myself sometimes. He just stands there looking at me. Shit, did I say that out loud? I let out a frustrated growl, but he doesn’t respond to my demand for him to leave, he just stands there. Those green eyes travel from my face, slowly down to my toes and back up to my eyes, causing a shiver to erupt. He laughs. He knows the affect he’s having on me, an affect that no man has ever had on me.

  Arrogant bastard.

  “Have breakfast with me.” He says. He didn’t ask, he simply made a statement. Okay brain, time to work again without screwing up the brain to mouth filter

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mister Bentley.”

  “Ahhh, so you do remember my name. And you will have breakfast with me. Then we’ll go kick Heather out of my room and you can proceed with her murder.” He says with amusement.

  “But why? Why would you want to have breakfast with me?” I lower my eyes to the floor and notice my pink fuzzy slipper socks I sleep in. Gosh, he must think I am an immature brat.

  “I need to eat. You need to eat. We’re here together, why not? I’m not asking you to marry me Alexandra, it’s just a meal.” Okay, now I feel really stupid. Of course it is. Just food. Nothing else. I really am an idiot to think he wanted something more.

  More.

  Maybe inside my defective brain, I want more, but I know better though. Damn brain.

  All I can do is nod my head. “Okay, breakfast. Then Heather’s murder will proceed on schedule.” I laugh. He just smiles.

  Shit.

  That isn’t just a smile. It’ssmile. Like he’s won some sort of game. I’m in big trouble because this man is sex on a stick. I’ve seen his type on television and in magazines but never in person. My defective brain knows he’s trouble, but my body is betraying me, and my body has never betrayed me. It’s always been loyal to me.

  But I can’t control it.

  “Go get dressed and I’ll finish up here, then we’ll head downstairs.” Again, he tells me. He doesn’t ask. And I don’t argue.I nod my head and skip,skip? Back into the bedroom and close the door, locking it. I stare at the doorknob. How did he get in here last night?

  I sigh and grab some clothes and head to the shower. As I wait for the water to heat, I stare at myself in the mirror. Really stare. What the hell is he doing here and why me?

  I’m short, curvy, yeah bit too curvy. Yes, I know, I repeated myself. My breasts are large and so not perky. They aren’t sagging to my knees or anything, yet. But they damn sure aren’t where they are supposed to be. I cup each breast and lift. Yeah. That’s where they should be.

  As I wiggle and jiggle them and try to keep them up higher, my nipples pucker. I’m so consumed with where they’re supposed to be that I didn’t realize how sensitive they are.

  It’s been a while for me. Hell, it’s been a while for anyone who looks like me.

  I look in the mirror and I know what I see. No issue there. Guys these days want slim, sleek and perky women. I know because I love to people watch and watching guys watch girls is hysterical. I see that all the time when I’m with Heather and guys stare at her. She’s oblivious to it too
, which I guess is good. Either that or she just ignores it. It’s been ten years since a guy has oggled me like they do her.

  For kicks and giggles, I decided to pinch my nipples. Bad idea. Heat pooled low in my belly and dampness spread to my sex. Uh oh, let them go Al. I let them drop and get in the shower wondering why I didn’t bring BOB. Oh yeah, right. It would have never made it through airport security. Can you imagine a bag search and the TSA employee pulling that out?

  After adjusting the temperature, I gather up my shampoo, shaving cream....etc. I hate traveling with this stuff, but you never know what you’re going to get at a hotel. I wash and condition my hair, shave my legs and my hoo hah. Yeah, I know. Real mature. Then I just stand there, face into the stream of hot water. My body over sensitized and almost itching to be touched. So, I did. My soapy hands glide over my breasts, stopping only briefly on my nipples. I gently pinch and pull, rolling them through my fingers.

  My hands then continue their destructive path to the apex of my thighs. Having just shaved, its extra sensitive. My middle finger drapes through the slit in search of greener pastures and I suck in a breath. “Oh yeah.” I groan through the spray of the shower.

  “Alexandra?” I hear above the water, along with a knocking at the door. The Suit. Shit, I forgot he was here. I snap out of my little fantasy, exit the shower and quickly dry off, paying a little extra attention to my girly parts, a delicious friction. Should be enough to satisfy this crazy urge. He’ll be gone after breakfast and then I’ll be on a flight back home. Jackson Bentley will be nothing but a memory, albeit a strange memory.

  I towel my hair dry and dig out the hotel hair dryer. Weak. It’ll take me fifteen minutes with this little thing, but I proceed. Maybe if I drag this along, he’ll get tired of waiting and leave without me.

  A swipe of mascara and a little lip gloss and I’m good to go. I may not have a perfect body, but I have great skin. Makeup only makes me look like I am trying too hard to compensate for the lack of a great body. I pull on my capri pants and a gauzy tank. It is Miami, so I had to try to look the part.