Stuck With The Four Hotties

After we’re done at the cafe, we hit up just about every shop on the main street, gathering supplies for our costumes, and then hit the B&B at just about check-in time.

We’ve got a family suite which, really, is just a collection of rooms with inner doors so they can be connected. We have three rooms, one of which has a seating area, and a giant bathtub that’s sort of just … in the middle of the bedroom.

“Don’t get me wrong, this looks scrumptious, but why is right next to the bed?”

“First off,” Zayd begins, leaping into the tub and reclining back with his ankles crossed next to the faucet. His shirt rides up in the front and I catch a glimpse of tattoos, and a sprinkling of dark hair that promises that the view I saw on his phone was not imaginary. There’s really something down below that waistband. And by something, I mean his cock. My cheeks flush as Zayd continues to ramble. “Did you just use the word scrumptious in a non- ironic sort of way? Second, the bathtub is in the bedroom because this is a honeymoon suite, and the bride and groom are meant to fuck in it.”

“So classy, as always,” Tristan says, looking irritated as he returns from his perusal of the suite. I’ve seen him swipe a finger on the top of a picture frame to check for dust, and then sigh dramatically. Personally, I think the little bed and breakfast is adorable. “Let’s make sleeping arrangements.”

“Me and Marnye in here,” Zayd says, but there’s just a single king bed in this room, sooo that’s not happening. “And then two of you in each of the other rooms, one per bed. Done and done.”

“How about …I sleep alone in here, and you guys take the other beds.” I cross my arms over my chest and stare both Zayd and Tristan down.

“I’m not bunking with any of these pricks,” Zayd scoffs, leaping out of the tub and grabbing me behind the legs and around the waist to sweep me into his arms. I squeal as he spins us around, and tosses me onto the bed. I bounce for a brief second before he’s covering me with his body, and pinning my arms at the wrists. “I’d much rather stay in here with you, Charity.”

“No chance,” I whisper back. Knowing logically that Zayd is teasing me is one thing, but having him on top of me like this is … quite another altogether. We look at each other, and I can tell that I’m not the only one that feels it. A muscle in Zayd’s cheek ticks, and I find it suddenly hard to breathe. We can both feel the tension. Hell, we’ve felt it since day one. The first moment we laid eyes on each other, I knew I had chemistry with the asshole rockstar boy.

Zayd groans and rolls off of me, but the damage is done. My heart is pounding, and there’s a bead of sweat running between my breasts.

“There’s a pull-out bed in the couch,” Zack says from the other room, and I can hear hinges squeaking as he unfolds it. Sitting up, I pad out to the seating area and watch him start to make the bed. “I’ll sleep here. It’s better than having to share a bed with his majesty.”

“I haven’t pissed the bed in years,” Windsor declares, throwing open the curtains and looking down at the creek that runs behind the property. He glances back at Zack with a huge grin. “Although last time we slept in a bed together, I woke up with your hard-on stabbing me in the leg.”

“Bullshit,” Zack snorts, as Creed narrows his blue eyes.

“When did you two ever sleep in the same bed?” he asks, flopping into one of the chairs and kicking his brown Barker Black boots up on the coffee table. Windsor turns around slowly, a cruel smile etching its way across his mouth. Sometimes I feel like being in a room with these guys is like standing in a pit of snakes. There’s so much damn venom, and I’m always waiting for one to strike.

“When we slept with Marnye on the last day of second year,” Windsor says, as if that’s the most natural thing in the world.This is from NôvelDrama.Org.

“You mean when you slept next to Marnye,” Tristan spits out, his voice like ice. He sounds pissed, and I can’t help but glance over at him. “Nobody believes either of you had sex with her, so don’t even with the innuendo.”

“And if I had, would that infuriate you?” Windsor challenges, tucking his hands into the pockets of his white slacks. He’s got a white button-down on with short sleeves and a subtle pinstripe, and those glossy black boots he always wears, like he’s about to go riding.

“You haven’t,” Tristan says, his voice a sharp slash in the suddenly tense air of the sitting room. Creed’s blue eyes take it all in with a hint of eagerness, like he’d truly enjoy watching the two of them beat the crap out of each other.

“Who Marnye does or doesn’t sleep with isn’t any of your business,” Zack growls, interrupting the other two boys. “So leave it alone, and screw off.” Tristan sneers, and I can just see the evening going straight down the toilet.

I step into the middle of the room.

“That’s enough.” My voice comes out hard and sharp, and they all turn to look at me. My heart is pounding so fast right now that I’m just praying I don’t pass out. “You guys can’t keep fighting; it’s not fair.” I exhale, and run my fingers through my hair. I look around, and for once, they’re all quiet. Pretty shocking if you know anything at all about any of these guys. They’re basically all alpha males. Tough crowd. “It’s confusing to me.”

“I’m sorry,” Zack says, and if he didn’t sound so genuine, I’d just think he was kowtowing to me. “You’re right.” He sits down on the edge of the couch bed with a small sigh. “You don’t deserve to deal with this shit after all the crap we put you through.”

“I … know you’re interested in dating,” I tell him, feeling my cheeks heat. I turn my gaze over to Creed. “And you.” Breathe, Marnye, breathe. “But what about you, Zayd?”

He’s standing just outside the door to the bedroom, looking at me with bright emerald eyes. His hands are tucked in his pockets, and he closes his eyes on the end of an exhale.

“I fucked up so bad with you Marnye,” he whispers, his voice so husky and raw that if he were to stop and record a song right now, the emotion would be so real it’d probably make people cry. “I was interested from day one. I told you that.”

“Are you interested now?” I whisper, struggling to make the words come out. There’s so much tension, it’s making my skin feel achy and ti

ght.