Filthy Foreign Exchange Book 2 Page 6

  The energy and fire radiating off her is completely contagious, and I start moving to the beat without a single care. My hands roam freely across Chad’s back; his hands are on my hips, guiding me closer. It feels nice—good, actually.

  And that’s when I realize I’m drunk. But the craving for a fourth drink remains, and I want to push myself further despite the entirety of my experience with alcohol all having happened in the last hour.

  But as free as I feel, I’m not so out of it that I can’t feel his eyes on me—honed in furiously on my every careless move.

  “Our tour guide doesn’t look happy!” Chad says loudly in my ear, laughing as his lower half gyrates against mine.

  I back him up with a gentle push to his chest, so subtle it could be mistaken for part of our dancing but effective enough to give me space.

  “He’s probably just tired and worried…looking out for everyone.”

  Chad throws back his head and lets out a full-blown laugh this time. “Echo, beautiful, he’s only keeping an eye on one person, you. And if you want to make him really jealous, I’m more than happy to help you with that.”

  “I’m not trying to make him anything. I just thought a dance would be fun.” I speak with a forked tongue, half telling the truth, the other half downright lying.

  About two notes into the next song, the music stops and is replaced with a racket of a different sort. Girls start screaming and I see people pushing and shoving from all sides, locking my muscles up with a newfound sense of dread. But before I can figure out what’s happening across the dance floor, I’m thrown over a shoulder and whisked through the masses.

  I’d panic, my intoxicated mind beginning to clear from the rush of adrenaline, but I actually sigh in relief for several reasons. First, I’m not being abducted—I’m being rescued from the crazy scene where I now know, from the small glimpse I get, a fight has broken out. And secondly, I’m wearing shorts, so nothing of mine is being bared (not that it’d be noticeable in this crowd if it was). And lastly, I’d recognize the touch and scent of my carrier in my sleep.

  “Kingston!” I scream, slapping his back. “Stop! We have to get Natalie!”

  He hails a car, which screeches up to the sidewalk, and puts me inside before climbing in quickly after me and slamming the door.

  “Burke will get her sorted, Love, I swear. I trust him.”

  “Well, I don’t!” I try to scramble over his lap and out the door, but the movement is completely futile. “I’m not just leaving her, Kingston! Please!”

  He pulls out his phone and speaks into it curtly. “Hey, have you got Natalie? Yeah, thanks mate, meet you at the hotel.” He hangs up and looks at me, now in my seat and not on his lap. “She’s safe in a taxi with Burke, and he also saw the others climb into one. All’s well.”

  He runs his hand over mine for a brief moment, allowing a calm silence to settle between us before asking, “Now, how are you?”

  I assess quickly, resting my head back. “Good, actually. Nothing like a bar fight and shoulder hold to sober ya right up.” I laugh shallowly. “Thank you…for getting me out of there.”

  His brows lower, as well as his voice. “Always. You shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Whole thing was rubbish.”

  “Since when are you such a snob?” I seethe. “It was fun!”

  The tone of his next words is thick with condescending shock.

  “Fun? You got pissed, and dry-humped right in front of my bloody face!” he rumbles. “Was that Chad bloke merely accosting you under the guise of dancing, or was he chatting you up as well?”

  “I did not get drunk,” I snip, “for long. I’m completely sober now. And I pushed him away; I don’t dance like that. Besides, you and I talked about this—and these questions, your tone, and that murderous gleam in your eyes don’t say ‘just friends’ to me, Kingston.”

  “Friends take care of each other. That’s what I’m doing.”

  “Bullshit! You’re jealous. And, um…” I gaze down, now mumbling. “You’re not allowed to be jealous.”

  We pull up at the hotel and he opens the door, exiting and helping me out without responding. And help is exactly what I need, because it’s in that moment that I realize my head might be clearing but my body is damn slow to catch up. I quickly discover the lingering effects of alcohol, a strong buzz claiming me when I stand. It’s one that seems to be rooted in my feet, seeing as they can barely lead me forward without tripping over each other.

  I shiver at the virile aggression emitting from him, even more powerful in its silence, and decide not to refuse when he takes my hand.

  “I’ll see you to your room,” he says, his strength keeping me upright and steady. “If that’s all right?”

  “That’d be fine,” I mutter, embarrassed. “Thank you.”

  The elevator ride is completely wordless, tension claiming all the oxygen. His grip never wavers from my waist until I brace myself against the door frame, digging out my room key. I feel him step back as I slide it into the lock.

  Facing the door, I finally speak.

  “I had an amazing night, Kingston, truly. And much of that was because I knew you’d keep me safe.” I remove the key and turn the knob, stalling before I enter but still looking anywhere but at him. “Thank you…again.”

  “I’m not leaving until I see you in bed.”

  His hand pushes the door open, and it takes everything in me not to hurl at his feet when I spin myself around.

  “What?” I nearly shriek. “You’re not going anywhere near my bed!”

  “I’ll carry you to it if I have to. I’m not letting you go in there, wobbling around and cracking your head open!”

  He reaches for me, but I slap his hands away.

  “Echo, I swear to God, I’m not leaving you alone while you’re drunk for the first time in your life and have no idea how your body will tolerate the effects!”

  “How the hell do you know I haven’t been drunk a thousand times since you last saw me, huh?” I sway on my feet and force my eyes shut as I grab the doorknob.

  “I know you—whether you like it or not, I do.” He places both hands on my upper arms, holding me still. “Allow me to tuck you in…for my own peace of mind.”

  I can’t handle the plea in his eyes, nor the thought of him helping me into my bed. So I kick back against the barely open door, releasing the knob from my hand, and call out, “You here, Nat?”

  “Yeah,” she answers, and I smile at Kingston.

  “If I crack my head open, she can call for help just as fast as you can.” I take one step into the room, my eyes never once straying from his. “Good night.”

  He moves in closer now, his tone gruff in my ear.

  “Sleep well, Love.”

  ~~~~~

  When I enter, Natalie’s staring out the window.

  “Hey,” I say softly, grateful the path to my bed is clear.

  “Hey yourself,” she responds in a clipped tone, still focused on whatever’s drawing her attention outside the window.

  I sit down on the corner of my bed slowly and kick off my shoes. “You okay?” I ask, peeling off my socks.

  She doesn’t look back as she responds. “Remember when I called dibs on Patton?”

  “Yeeessss…” I drawl, unsure where this is headed.

  “Cancel that.”

  “Why, because of Burke?” I ask hopefully, eyeing up my pillows, ready for some sleep.

  “Burke is great, but no.”

  I crawl to the top of my bed and pull back the blanket. “Then...?”

  “Patton is a no because he’s currently fucking Jackie,” she says, pointing out the window. “And so is your dance partner.”

  “What?” I shriek, a new zing of adrenaline firing me up and helping me run to her side.

  Sure enough, we have a perfect view of quite the show from the window of one of their rooms. “Oh my God.”

  “Probably exactly what she’s moaning,” Nat snaps, heading t
o her bed. “Night.”

  I should go to sleep too, but I can’t tear my gaze away. Patton, while obviously a jerk, has a glorious completely naked body, and his ass and leg muscles flex beautifully as he thrusts in and out of Jackie—who’s also not lacking in the nice-physique department.

  And Chad? He’s not as finely built as Patton, but far from shabby, and standing directly behind her. I’m not an expert or even a novice, but I’m familiar enough with basic human anatomy. Is he, um...in her ass?

  I blush fiercely at the thought, yank the curtains closed, and run into the bathroom.

  I wash my face and brush my teeth, and by the time I’m getting changed, all I want to do is shake the images from my head. I now have a new “naughtiest thing I’ve ever done,” and I have a feeling spying on a threesome may stay at the top of that list for a while.

  But I can’t deny it turned me on in a very weird way that I don’t understand. I’m not attracted to Chad, and I now think extremely poorly of Patton…but it wasn’t them I saw.

  I saw three bodies moving as one in ravenous pleasure—give and take, soft then hard, with looks of pure ecstasy and gratification on all their faces…thrusts, sweating, hair grabbing, and mouths falling open from the onslaught of physical release.

  The wet, swollen heat between my legs and the racing of my heart only confirm I was entranced.

  While I’d personally never enjoy a meaningless romp with one, let alone two, almost-strangers, I can imagine the basic natural appeal and desire to connect on such a level with someone I cared about deeply who felt the same about me.

  Enough of this. I turn off the bathroom light and climb into bed.

  “Nat, you asleep?” I whisper.

  “No,” she answers, her voice brittle with hurt.

  We lie quietly for a while before she asks, “Was that your first venture as a voyeur?” and laughs softly.

  “Yes,” I groan, ashamed. “You better not tell anyone! I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “I do, you’re a virgin. Don’t even bother confirming or denying it—you practically have a flashing sign on your forehead,” she says, before quickly adding, “And I mean that as a compliment, since I’m in the same boat. And you’re curious what it’d feel like with Kingston, who you’re so hot for you can barely stand it. I totally get it. Believe me.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” I scoff, rolling on my side, away from her. “I was gonna tell you how much prettier you are than Jackie and how I’m almost sure I spotted some cellulite on her thighs, but you can forget it now.”

  She laughs again, fully and genuinely. “Thanks, Echo. But it’s no biggie—I barely know the guy. And if you happen to slip up and mention to your friend Kingston that Burke should join us more, I wouldn’t be upset.”

  “Noted.”

  Chapter 8

  When I wake the next morning, it’s the first and only time since starting the sleeping pills I can remember my dreams, since I didn’t take one last night after drinking.

  The images were so vivid and boundless, having danced through my mind all night and leaving my skin tingling now in the light of day. They were my most forbidden curiosities come to life, starring myself and a certain dark-haired, gray-eyed charmer who bombards my sleep just as effectively as he does my wakefulness.

  I’ve missed dreaming.

  Once showered and ready for another day of new adventures, I head downstairs to the hotel restaurant for breakfast, finding most everyone already scattered at various tables. Not seeing Nat, I ask the waitress to seat me a little distance away from the group, but I’m soon joined by Patton.

  I know I blush—I can feel my voyeuristic shame heating my face—so I act as engrossed in my menu as possible.

  “Morning. How ya feeling?” he asks.

  “Fine,” I reply curtly.

  “You mad at me too?”

  “Too?” I lower the menu, curious. “Who else is mad at you?”

  “Nat.” He sighs, then lifts his own menu to peruse. “She’s been an ice queen all morning. What the hell happened? Did I say or do something stupid to offend you two last night?”

  I’m not sure how, or even if, I should answer. Is it breaking “girl code” to answer honestly if I say it spitefully? Probably not, so I sneer and slather my words in disdain.

  “Did you ever think maybe she liked you, Patton?” I reply. “Not only were you rude to her, but you made it very clear you were more interested in Jackie, so she’s probably a little bummed. But I have no doubt Burke will help her get over it.”

  I’m pretty sure I nailed it exactly like a friend should.

  His eyes lower in an attempt to hide his…regret?

  “I had no idea,” he mutters under his breath. “Damn.”

  I shrug easily. “Don’t worry about it. You guys barely know each other, and look, both of you have found people of interest more suited to you, anyway. Burke seems great, and Jackie…” It’s my turn to look down. “Seems friendly.”

  “Doesn’t she, though? Super hospitable.”

  Nat walks up to join us, her sarcastic agreement perfectly timed albeit thinly veiled. “Mind if I sit here?”

  It’s more of a statement and less of a question, since she’s already planted in the chair.

  “Morning!” She smiles widely at me. “Were you telling Patton about us seeing him fuck Jackie last night?”

  And there it is. The bomb has dropped in to have breakfast with us.

  I cough down my drink of water, searching around frantically for a waiter or waitress to come interrupt and take my order, but Nat continues casually.

  “We didn’t mean to, Patton, seriously. But your party of three forgot to close the curtains and, well…once you catch a glimpse of something like that, kinda hard to look away. Right, Echo?”

  “I, um, well—” I’m going to kill her.

  “I think what Echo may be trying to say is we’re sorry for interloping. But don’t worry—we got bored and closed our curtains before the grand finale.” Nat grins, reveling in the shock factor looming over the table.

  “Natalie, Echo…” Patton utters, his face crimson and his voice strained. “I apologize to you both. I should’ve taken better care of privacy issues. And if I was in any way rude last night,” he adds, turning sorrowful eyes to Nat, “I apologize for that too. As far as anything else, well…I had no idea you may have been into me, at all, and Jackie was—”

  “Apology accepted,” Nat cuts him off, shooting daggers at me. “You’re a big boy, free to do whatever and whomever you want. Now let’s eat.” She waves her hand wildly in the air. “Who ya gotta fuck to get service around here?”

  She feigns shame and a wince.

  “Sorry Patton, poor choice of words. Just slipped out.”

  I lose track of the rest of their conversation because the air around me crackles with familiar electricity, and the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I don’t turn; no need to. Kingston Hawthorne just entered the room.

  When he clears his throat loudly and announces we’ll be departing for our tour of Bath in one hour, what my body already told me is confirmed; its response to his presence is never wrong, and always unmistakable.

  I don’t move when he walks up behind me, his nearness sending all my synapses firing at once, and asks in a voice too wickedly deep and smooth for this early in the morning, “Will you be joining my group today?”

  “I’ve stunned poor Echo into silence, so I’ll answer for us,” Nat says with a laugh when I don’t answer. “Yes, we’re with you today.”

  “Brilliant,” Kingston replies, his fingertips brushing the back of my neck so briefly I wonder if it’s my imagination. “The bus leaves in an hour.”

  The bus? I’m slightly disappointed, but say nothing…and apparently, I don’t have to.

  Kingston takes the vacant chair beside me, dipping his head so our eyes connect.

  “What is it?”

  Um…spooky how you read my thoughts? Not w
hat he means, though.

  “Nothing.” I smile—tensely, because my face muscles tend to give away my lies.

  “Rubbish.” He smirks. “What’d I tell you about your inability to lie, Love?”

  I lean in and whisper, “What’d I tell you about calling me ‘Love’? There are other people at this table.”

  I feel his grin on my skin when he scoots closer, his lips skimming slowly up my neck to find my ear, where he returns a whisper.

  “No, there’s not, they just left. It’s only you and me. So tell me, why’d your light dim so suddenly?”

  He shouldn’t speak so deeply and huskily, his breath warm in my ear; it isn’t fair. He shouldn’t lean in so close, and smell of man and seduction. And my heart also shouldn’t betray my brain, thumping erratically—and loudly enough to drown out any sound of good judgment.

  I force myself to lean back, surprised that the table is, in fact, empty aside from us.

  “I just…well, I figured we’d take the train at Paddington station to Bath,” I say, somehow managing a normal audio level.

  “Do you wish to take the train?” he asks with a tinge of amusement.

  I nod. “I’ve never been on one…though I guess the Underground counts.”

  “No comparison.” He takes my hand, turning it over to place a soft, chaste kiss on the underside of my wrist before peering up at me through his thick, dark lashes. “The train it shall be then, for you.”

  How badly I want to let my heart flutter freely—to forget all but the good, like every single moment we’ve shared similar to this one—but I can’t. Because I learned the hard, bitter, painful way that the higher up I let Kingston take me, the further down I have to fall.

  And big falls leave scars.

  So I ignore my heart and seize control, steering the conversation completely off course.

  “Well, since they’re gone, now’s my chance to give you some friendly advice. Because I do care about you—as a friend.”

  Worry crosses his face, as does disappointment; the shift in mood is tangible.