My Five Night Fling by Maci Dillon

 

 

KASSIDY

 

“Work quickly for what?”

Ugh, enough with the grin.

His mouth is impeccable.

His lips, so kissable.

I ignore the reason behind the comment and his grin to visit the restroom before our meal arrives. Hopefully, a trip to the ladies’ room will subdue the tingly sensations accompanying the second glass of wine.

Entering the bathroom, I catch a glimpse of my ghastly reflection in the mirror.

“Kill me, now,” I groan.

Sleep eluded me during the flight, and after a busy night prior, my lack of rest has resulted in dark circles under my bloodshot eyes.

I’m the queen of hot messes today. Go me, I encourage myself.

After relieving myself, I splash water on my face and dig through my small handbag for some powder, mascara, and gloss. I apply sparingly to avoid the dark-haired stranger assuming I’m making myself more visually pleasing for him.

I roll on a little perfume beneath my ears, do a quick spot check of myself in the mirror, and walk out. There’s only so much a girl can do with limited supplies. I come to an abrupt halt just outside the door when met with a snarky-looking chick filled to the brim with attitude.

What the fuck?

“Whoever you think you are and whatever you’re trying to get from Jarett, it’s not going to happen. I suggest you move on already.” The brunette spits her words at me, her fingers doing way too much talking for my liking.

I open my mouth to tell her exactly what she can do with her unsolicited advice when she continues, “Jarett might fit the bill for a random hookup, but you…” she snarls, pointing her finger close to my chest, “… aren’t his type. And he’s way out of your league.”

Pushing her finger out of my space, I step away from her. I don’t care who this bitch thinks she is, but I do recognize her as the one who arrived with the group and death-stared at me after my run-in with Jarett.

At least now he has a name.

This bitch turns her nose up as her eyes wander over my body from head to toe, stopping at my breasts. I stand still, feeling cheap and exposed.

For a fleeting second, that is.

“He prefers his women a little less curvy with a chest bigger than his own.” She snickers bitterly.

My fists clench tightly. Words lodge in my throat for three-point five nanoseconds as I stare at this unbelievable mammal. The nerve of it!

Honestly, I want to be the better woman and walk away as if she weren’t here. I try to swallow my pride and keep my thoughts to myself. My grandma’s words come back to me. There’s no such thing as try. You either do, or you don’t.

I don’t.

Today, I can’t.

This bitch has gotten under my skin on the wrong motherfucking day.

“Sweetie, bitterness and rejection don’t look good on you. I doubt you have a clue what Jarett wants, but it will never be you. He doesn’t strike me as the type to chase after childish skanks. But good luck.” I don’t wait for a response. Instead, gloating internally as her mouth falls open, and her eyes widen at the insult, but she has nothing.

A typical sociopath.

As the food is arriving, I make it back to our table.

Anxiety spreads like wildfire through my body. Heat flushes my cheeks as I gulp my wine, and my heart pounds with guilt.

The wench deserved it, but I’m not a girl who lets things get to me. It’s not my style to lash out at others. And what would this hot guy, Jarett, think of me for insulting one of his friends?

“Roman, this is—” his voice breaks off, and he eyes me inquisitively, prompting me silently for a name. I hesitate a little, strangely turned on at the fact he had not yet asked for it.

I turn and offer my hand. “Hello, Roman, I’m Kassidy. Lovely to meet you.” I offer my sweetest of smiles.

Roman raises my hand to his mouth, planting a chaste kiss on the back. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Jarett rolling his eyes with a shake of his head.

“Yes, meet my brother, Roman. He owns this place,” Jarett adds with a sweep of his hands, clearly proud of his brother’s achievements.

My eyebrows raise a little in response to learning these two gorgeous men are brothers. Roman is obviously older, though equally as charming and handsome.

“Nice place you have here,” I tell him, my eyes darting around at the artwork on the walls for the first time. My stomach rumbles so loudly I’m thankful for the laughter which erupts at the table behind us. At this point, I’m terrified I’ll start foaming at the mouth if I can’t get my lips around the ravioli in front of me.

It’s screaming my name.

“Thank you,” Roman smiles. Please forgive my little bro. His tact is lacking.” He jabs his brother in the side as he speaks.

“What! Why would you say that?” Jarett whines, faking insult.

“The little I know about women, I guess I always assumed asking their name before inviting them to enjoy lunch and a bottle of fine wine was a prerequisite.”

I can’t help but laugh at their banter. Roman isn’t wrong, but I’m not bothered by it one bit.

What I’d love to confirm is whether this is Jarett’s normal route to seduction. I imagine it rarely fails him. Unquestionably a ladies’ man, I envision him wining and dining random women, fucking them stupid, and moving on before the sun rises.

I clench my thighs together and lift a silent prayer before I return my focus to Roman. “Thank you for allowing me to store my things in your office. And for this food, it smells divine.” I stir the rich tomato-based sauce through the pockets of pasta, salivating at the aromatic steam wafting from the bowl.

Taking the subtle hint my food is calling, Roman answers, “Anytime. I hope London is kind to you. Be sure to drop in again before you leave.”

“I’ll be sure to.”

And I will.

If I don’t die of starvation in the meantime.

“Enjoy your lunch and stay out of the blizzards.” Roman flashes a rich grin, like his brother’s, and leaves us to enjoy our meal. I have many questions for Jarett, but first, I seek salvation from my hunger pains.

We eat in comfortable silence. I daydream peacefully as the snow falls against the window, consciously aware of Jarett’s eyes on me. My body responds to his perusal in ways I’d like to explore further.

Any other day.

When his friends stop by our table on their way out, I’m curious whether they all work together or meet on their lunch breaks from various nearby offices.

Jarett is quick to introduce the women. “Sophia, this is Kassidy.” He points to the more gorgeous of the two—a tall, fit woman in her late thirties, I’m guessing. “Kassidy is visiting from Australia.” I offer her my hand. “Sophia is my sister.”

Oddly, it felt good to hear him say sister.

We exchange pleasantries, and I learn Sophia is the sister between Jarett and Roman.

“And this is Claire.” He points to the nasty woman I met on my visit to the restroom. He offers no other introduction. I simply nod and offer an incredibly weak smile.

The guy with them thrusts his hand out and introduces himself. “I need no introduction, I’m more than capable of speaking for myself in the presence of a beautiful woman,” he drools.

I shake his hand. “And you are?”

Everyone except Claire laughs.

“Right, I’m Damon. Jarett’s wingman. God knows he needs it.”

Jarett rolls his eyes. “Apologies in advance… Damon can be a bit gobby sometimes.”

Damon throws Jarett a deadpan look before he turns toward the door to leave.

“Nice to meet you,” I yell after them as Damon and Claire exit the café.

Sophia hovers a moment longer. “Kassidy, I apologize for Claire’s behavior earlier.”

Inwardly, I cringe, and my eyes dart to Jarett. “I overheard her as I was coming out of Roman’s office. I was going to step in, but there was no need. You had it under control.” She laughs sweetly.

“Claire has been chasing after Jarett since high school, and she’s pissed at any other women he notices or has time for.”

She pats my forearm in a friendly gesture. I have a feeling she has endured the wraith of Claire personally a time or two or witnessed her bullshit enough to pity those in her line of fire.

Jarett’s confused expression morphs into bewilderment as he digests what Sophia is referring to. Annoyed by Claire’s obsession, he apologizes profusely after Sophia fills him in. I sink lower in my chair, wanting to hide in the remains of my ravioli.

I don’t need people to step in or come to my rescue.

“I’ve never shown her the slightest bit of interest,” he spits out, more to Sophia than me. I need no explanation. “I wish she’d get over this ridiculous obsession and move on. It’s embarrassing, not to mention infuriating.”

Frustration rolls off Jarett in waves, and I’d recognize his inherent dislike of Claire from a mile away. I wonder about their connection to her if neither of them enjoys her company, yet she joins them for lunch.

When Jarett grazes my hand and squeezes it, I’m momentarily unnerved by the gesture. Sophia’s eyes follow the exchange, and a ghost of a grin touches her lips.

“I must be going, but Kassidy?” Sophia puts on her coat as she addresses me. “We’re having drinks tonight at Maximum, a friend’s speakeasy not far from here. Why don’t you join us? Killer cocktails, live music, and dancing. It’s always fun.”

Honestly, I doubt any time spent with Sophia could be anything less than fun. She carries a certain presence about her, one I admire and it intrigues me.

She’s bold and beautiful. Loud and charismatic. It isn’t hard to imagine her as the center of attention everywhere she goes. Her charm is a deeply engrained character trait in this family tree.

Charm is a winner in my book.

I speak their language.

I take pride in my appearance and dress to impress. I carry myself with vigor, understand my strengths, and ooze confidence but in a humble way. I’m not beautiful like Sophia, but I hold the attention of men wherever I go.

Average height, symmetrical curves, and toned in the right areas, the gym is good to me, but I’m not a girl who lives for the gym. I’m a foodie and love eating my way through different cities. Plus, I do love a drink or ten.

Before I have a chance to answer, Jarett confirms for the both of us. I don’t have it in me to object, nor call him out for answering for me once again.

“Fantastic, can’t wait!” She grins and leans in to deliver a peck on my cheek. “See you tonight.”

Plans for my first night. Check.

A young waiter arrives to clear the dishes from the table once we’re done. Jarett leans in and whispers in my ear while my skin ignites, and every inch sparks with excitement at his proximity, “Join me for dinner before drinks. I want you to myself a little longer.”

I can’t deny our chemistry. It vibrates down to my bones.

Having enjoyed an hour together over nice food and a bottle of wine, I learned many things about this stranger who accosted me. The more I learn, the more I want to discover. Each new piece of information draws me in deeper. 

“Sounds perfect,” I agree.

Jarett excuses himself to retrieve my belongings while I polish off the last of my wine.

When he returns wearing my backpack, I frown at him. “I should head off and find where I’m staying,” I explain, extending my hand to retrieve my things. “If you want a coherent date tonight, I’ll need to at least have a few hours of beauty sleep.”

Not willing to hand over my luggage, my gaze travels up his body.

If seduction has a face, it’s staring at me right now. A warm glimmer in those brown eyes sends a shiver down my spine.

“Oh, believe me, sweetheart…” he leans in and whispers in my ear, “… I want you to be fully coherent tonight.”

I swallow.

Hard.