Accent Hussy (It Had 2 B U) (12 page)

The wedding was beyond perfect. Short, simple, full of love. It wasn’t your typical Vegas wedding: Elvis wasn’t officiating the ceremony, nor did we do a drive-thru nuptial, but everything else was exactly how a real wedding should be. The flowers, beautiful bride, handsome groom, and the most gorgeous Maid of Honor. Not to brag or anything, but this fuchsia dress I’m wearing looks simply marvelous on me. My ass is banging, my boobs look at least a size bigger, and the dress sits on my hips so seductively that pretty much every man near me can’t help but stare.

Max and Breezy have disappeared up to their honeymoon suite. Mom and Dad are out sight-seeing, so that leaves me and Max’s entourage to fend for ourselves.

“Let’s go clubbing tonight!” Maggie squeals, grabbing onto Emma’s arm. “We haven’t been clubbing in forever.”

“Sounds good to me,” Emma agrees.

“I’ll text Max and Breezy. We all know how much Breezy loves to dance,” I chime in.

The two boys standing with us groan causing their girlfriends to chuckle.

“It won’t kill you to dance for one night, CG,” Maggie tells Dashawn.

“CG?” I question.

“Chocolate God,” she grins. “I’m his Sugar, he’s my Chocolate God, and together we make one hell of a toothache.”

Dashawn laughs and kisses her on the head. “She’s definitely my sweetness. I can’t get enough of this woman. I crave her. She’s like a drug for me.”

“You two are disgusting,” Tony grumps. Ever since we came to Vegas, he’s been overly moody. Tony is Max’s best friend and sexy as hell. He’s tall, muscular, and man does that red hair feel good in my fingers. Max doesn’t know, but last summer when I came up to visit, Tony and I had a one-night-stand. It wasn’t even a drunken one-night-stand, either. It was a simple, lust-filled, animalistic, I have to have you now, one-night stand. Nothing ever came of it. Both of us were too much of a chicken shit to let it go any further than the bedroom. Max would kill Tony if he knew—literally. Max has made it his personal mission to keep Tony as far away from Breezy as he can. He’s also made sure to let him know I was off limits as well. It’s kind of funny how when someone tells you to stay away from a person it makes you want them even more . . . yeah, I had to have Tony. Tony ended up being average in the bedroom. Maybe it was the lack of chemistry, but sex with Tony was nothing like sex with Caleb.

Yuck, Caleb! Why am I thinking about him again?

“Stop being so grumpy, Tony,” I yell at him. “This is a fun weekend.”

He glares at me. “Whatever kid.” Yeah, he started calling me kid after we had sex. I think it was to distance himself from the horrible mistake we made. Okay, it wasn’t horrible, but definitely not all that I expected it to be. I’m not even sure why I slept with him. He’s not my type—no accent. Last summer I had a ginger phase I needed to get out of my system. A guy doesn’t have to have an accent for me to sleep with him. All I have to do is cover his mouth, and any guy can be attractive. Just look at Caleb.

I stick my tongue out at Tony and his glare hardens. Emma comes up behind him and starts petting his arm. “Slow down, Killer.” His glare softens and he kisses her head.

“Right, Babe. How about you girls go dancing, and Dashawn, Max and I will hit some tables?” Tony suggests.

Maggie and Emma’s heads both snap around at the same time. The same look of “Are you kidding me?” crosses their face. Tony puts his hands up and sighs, “Guess we’re going dancing, D.”

“That’s okay. I don’t want some moron dancing with my girl anyway. Nobody gets to taste my sweetness but me.” He kisses Maggie’s neck and licks her. She giggles.

“How about we all meet down by the elevators around seven? I’m sure the newlyweds will be done consummating their marriage by then.” Maggie says, turning to me. “Everly, you have to wear that dress. Every guy within a five-mile radius has whiplash because of you.”

I grin, smoothing the dress down so my ass doesn’t hang out.

“Yeah, kid. You look smokin’ hot in that dress,” Tony remarks. We have an interesting stare down between each other. It’s a heated gaze. He’s staring at my boobs. I’m staring at his dick. It’s a mutual admiration for the memory of the other’s naked body until Emma decides to jump in and suck his lips off.
I forgot, he’s spoken for now
. She finishes her kiss and whirls around smirking at me. She’s marked him with her red lipstick, the female sign of BITCH, HE’S MINE. I lift an eyebrow at her and smile sweetly. Little does she know, she’s playing with my sloppy seconds, and it takes everything I have not to ask her how she likes sucking on secondhand cock? Like a good little Maid of Honor, I remain poised, keeping my lips sealed and my past rendezvous with Tony a secret.

We hash out the details a little longer until I’m left alone in the lobby to fend for myself. It turns out that being the ninth wheel sucks even more than being a third wheel. I text Breezy and Max and let them know about going clubbing tonight. Of course, Breezy sends me a text back, almost immediately, saying she’s in. This is probably the first time in my life I’ve been bummed about being single. Sure, Vegas is filled with good-looking men. Half of them look like they are about ready to approach me at any second, but knowing that everybody else is currently banging upstairs is really depressing. I have several hours to kill, and hanging out in the smoke-filled casino doesn’t seem like the best idea when wearing this dress. I decide it’s probably better to go change. I’m almost to the elevator when I see a sea of people crowding around the lobby. Most of the people are reporters, but there’s a lot of screaming girls fawning all over someone who’s caught up in the vortex of bodies.

I try to catch a glimpse of who everyone’s all excited about seeing. Maybe Channing Tatum has finally realized we are made for each other and has come to sweep me off my feet. As I get up on a step so I have a little advantage, my fuchsia heels wobble and I almost fall on my ass. That’s when I see who the entire lobby is going crazy over. All I can see is tattoos and sandy blonde hair, but then he looks up, almost like he knows I’m staring at him.

Mother fuck! It’s Caleb!

There’s a transformation across his face. First, it’s confusion, then recognition, and finally that sexy smile of his creeps to his ears. I think he has superpowers, because the moment he smiles, I wobble and fall backward, as if some strange force has knocked me off my feet. I fall on my ass, my legs up in the air, my matching underwear showing proudly to anyone who’s paying attention. Mortified, I do my best to gracefully get back on my feet. Yeah, that didn’t happen. I roll around on the ground, doing my best impression of an interpretative break dance all the way over to the handrail. If I were in a dance competition, I’d probably get ten points for my interpretation of a turtle trying to get off its back. I’m that good. Just as my manicured hand circles the bar, a pair of strong arms gently grabs my forearm and I’m lifted up to my feet. Volts of electricity shoot through my body simply because of his touch.

Caleb pulls me into his arms, and then I feel his hands on my ass.

“Excuse you!” I yell, swatting at him.

He grins, and I feel him tugging my dress down. Oh, I guess I was giving more of a show than I thought. When he finishes, his hands just stay there.
Fuck you, Caleb’s hands. Lay off my assets!
I push into his chest and force my body away from him.

“Are you following me?” I growl.

“Are you following me?” He asks. That cocky grin of his spreads.

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

“You’re so infuriating. Why can’t you just not exist?”

“Because then you would be sad and miss these little chance encounters we keep having.”

“It’s not a chance encounter when you’re stalking me like some hot, stupid psycho.”

“Did you just call me hot?”

“No, I called you a stupid psycho.” My cheeks burn.

“A hot, stupid psycho.”

“Go away, Caleb. Why are you in Vegas, anyway?”

“Why are you in Vegas?”

Ugh, he’s so exasperating.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Max and Breezy just got married. I was the Maid of Honor.”

“In that?” he asks, eyeing my dress. His eyes linger on my boobs. He’s like superman; that heated laser vision of his sears my cleavage, and I start to sweat. He licks his lips. Memories of how those lips and tongue felt across my hot breasts comes rushing back to me.

That’s it, I’m out of here. I’m not falling down this rabbit hole again. I sucked down the red pill of Caleb. I’m not doing that again. This girl isn’t falling into his hot matrix of sin, no matter how tempting it is.

“Yes, in this. What’s wrong with my dress?”

“Everything.”

“Care to explain?”

“You look too good in it. It’s unfair to the average women loitering around this lobby for a woman of your caliber to look this good.”

“Great, then it will work perfectly when I go dancing tonight.”

“You’re not going dancing in that dress.”

“Yes, I am. See you later, Stalker. Not nice talking to you.” I stamp my foot and turn away. Caleb grabs my elbow.

“I said you’re not going dancing in that dress.”

“And I said I didn’t give a rat’s flying left nut what you think. You’re not my boyfriend, Caleb. You have no say in what I do or where I go. We were a one-night-stand for a reason.”

His brow furrows. “Because you won’t admit we’re good together.”

“There’s nothing good about you. The sex was mediocre at best. Your dick wasn’t something to brag about, and your personality needs some major tuning. Face it, Buddy, you’re just not that awesome
.”

You lying whore. He’s awesome at so many things . . . that’s why he’s your spank bank Hall of Famer.

I push back the nagging voice in my head and smile sweetly. “Looks like your posse is coming over to get you,” I smirk. He opens his mouth to say something but is cut off.

“Caleb, we have a few more interviews to get through. If you could please come back.” Caleb’s attention turns towards the balding middle-aged man with a large money sign necklace and incredibly bad toupee. He must be Caleb’s manager.

“Just a minute, Chris,” Caleb says desperately.

“Now Caleb!” Chris orders.

I take this distraction to make my exit. Leaving now ensures that my vagina will stay away from his flesh-toned popsicle; she’s got a craving for Caleb and right now, I’m not going to give in to her desires. The elevator behind me opens up and I make a mad dash for it. Caleb turns his head just in time to see me crowd into an elevator with a group of hot college guys.

“Hey, baby,” one of them says.

Crap. I should’ve waited for the next elevator.

An arm jams between the doors just as they’re about to close, throwing it back open. Caleb looks at the college guys and glares.

“Get the fuck out of the elevator,” he tells them. There’s one Caleb and six of them. I’m pretty sure he can’t take them all on.

“Whoa, buddy, what the fuck?” one of them asks.

“I said get out.” His eyes meet mine and I smile, sticking my tongue out at him.
Neener Neener, you can’t get me.
I chant in my head.

“Dude, get the next elevator,” another chimes in.

“Wait, are you? You are! Holy shit, guys, that’s Caleb Conaway. We’re going to see his fight tonight.”

Fight? That’s why he’s in town? He’s not stalking me. My heart drops a little when I realize he didn’t come here for me.

“That’s right. I’ll get you all ringside seats if you exit this elevator right now.”

They all look at each other and immediately exit the elevator. I try to inconspicuously exit with them, but Caleb’s arm hooks around my waist and pulls me back in.

“Hey, what about our seats?” the one who recognized Caleb asks.

“Talk to that dude heading over here—the goof with the gold necklace. Tell him Caleb says you get ringside.”

“Go get her, Stud,” one of the guys yells just as the doors close us in.

“What floor?” Caleb asks me.

“Not happening.”

“What floor, Everly?” he says a little more demanding.

When I don’t answer, he hits the middle button and the elevator starts rising. His dominance is so annoying. Why am I so attracted to him?

“Everly, fate has brought us together again. The question is, are you brave enough to submit to it and me?”

“I submit to no one.”

He growls and hits the emergency stop button making the elevator come to a screeching halt. Everly and enclosed spaces don’t mix. I start to sweat, my breathing increases and I panic.

“Make it go again.”

“Not until you tell me what floor.”

“Caleb, I’m not kidding, please make the elevator go up.” I make a move to the hit the button, and he steps in front of me. My hand hits the front of his pants; I’m met with the hardness that’s trapped behind the denim cage.

“That’s what your dress does to me, Everly. That’s what
you
do to me. That’s why I can’t let you go dancing in that dress tonight,” he answers breathlessly.