Love Me Harder (18+ Only)

Part 8

"I should get it because I'm your oldest friend here," Gina stated, the feather bedding sunk softly under her body and she stretched her arms over head, fingertips briefly touching the padded headboard. A low growl of satisfaction escaped her lips. I don't blame her. King size, Egyptian cotton sheets, 320-thread count—my kind of bed. "Besides, I'd rather sleep in the lobby than share the sofa bed with either of them."

I booked the one-bedroom suite on the Spa level and debated over who'd share it with me. Gina would be the obvious choice and as much as I'd want to see what would happen if I forced her to share a bed with Lara I didn't want to lose my job over it.

"And since I introduced you to Kevin..."

I sighed and shut the closet door. "Fine. You win." Every time she pulls that card, it trumps everything.

"I love you too, work wife."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." I pulled her up from the bed. "You better protect me from those bitches when I tell them the sleeping arrangements."

She flexed her arm. "I'll be your muscle."

We walked arm in arm out of the bedroom to find Lara and Kimber had already made themselves at home. Lara had changed into a floral print calf-length dress and was sweeping a mascara wand over her lashes. Kimber's camera clicked and flashed as she took pictures of the view from the balcony. The scent of the fir trees outside reminded me of Christmas even though it's only June.

"Her Majesty gets the bed, doesn't she?" Lara said before she swiped lip gloss on her lips.

"Yes," I answered meekly. "I hope you guys don't mind sharing the sofa bed."

Kimber walked back into the living room and slid the doors shut. "I don't mind. I'm just grateful to be here."

"It's like the Oscars. I'm happy to be nominated," Lara added and gave me a sweet smile. She walked over to me and wrapped her arms around me. "Thank you so much! We're going to have the most awesome time!"

Awesome time started at 5 pm. We had reservations at the Lodge's elegant and aptly named Dining Room. Everything we ordered tasted delicious. I know this because we all tried each other's food. The conversation was light until we were on our third bottle of pinot noir.

Kimber cleared her throat. "So, let's talk about Kevin."

I set my glass gently on the table. "What about him?"

"How long have you been with him?"

"On and off 4 years. Exclusively a year." It's difficult for people to understand why I'd choose to be with a married man. But it was the easiest decision I've ever had to make. It takes me an hour to settle on what shoes to wear but I didn't hesitate, not for a second, to be Kevin's girlfriend.

Four years ago when Gina divorced her husband, she asked me to call a lawyer from California to handle it. I spoke with Kevin Baker for almost an hour. Five minutes was spent explaining the reason for my call and the rest was flirtation. His voice was velvety, deep and charismatic. We exchanged emails for a couple of weeks before he flew to Seattle to meet with Gina. That's when I saw the ring. And I didn't care.

My beloved boss and friend chuckled. "I've tried telling her it's a bad idea but she won't listen to me."

"I'm having fun with Kevin. He's the perfect boyfriend. Rich, successful, generous and he's not clingy or demanding. I don't think I could ever find anyone who's more right for me right now."

"Don't forget he also pays for your bills," Lara, who gets bitchy when she gets drunk, muttered under her breath.

"And what's wrong with that? He wants to take care of me, it makes him happy. I want him to be happy." There are two different opinions on my life. The first one, I'm a gold digger who's only after Kevin's money and silently wishing he would leave his wife for me so I can get my grubby, dirty, slutty hands on his 'millions'. The second, Kevin—being 15 years my senior—only wants me for my hot, tight body, is taking advantage of my youth, will never leave his wife and could drop me like a hot potato whenever he pleased. Both are right on slightly different levels.

"But don't you feel like... um... like a..." Kimber suddenly found the red liquid in her glass to be the most fascinating thing in the world.

"Whore. Spit it out. Say whore. You're fucking 30 years old. Grow the fuck up." Drunk Lara is a cold bitch. Gotta love her.

We all laughed our loud inebriated voices filling the empty—thank goodness— restaurant. Some wine might have been spilled.

I shrugged and raised my glass. "As my mother always told me, 'You're a whore only if you're getting more than you're giving.'"

Bless her heart but my dear mother Annalise Morrow was the perfect mistress.

*****

A/N

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