Coming Undone (Club Voyeur Book 1) Read online

  Unfortunately, I didn’t get the chance to. Before I could even find out his name, my flight was announced over the loud speaker. Within seconds, Marlowe came barreling out of the employee’s break room fixing her zebra print bra as she yelled, “Vegas baby!”

  “That’s my flight and my best friend.” I pointed to Marlowe. “And, we’re not going to Las Vegas,” I rolled my eyes.

  Dark Eyes released my waist. My skin suddenly felt cold where his hands had rested. He reached into his front inside pocket again, this time pulling out his business card, which he placed in my hands. An off-white papyrus, it contained only his name and number. “I expect a call when you get back to New York. If you need anything while you’re away, don’t hesitate to call.” He cupped my chin, running his thumb along the curve of my lower lip before putting his hands in his pockets.

  I placed the business card in my purse where it would be safe and hidden from Marlowe’s prying eyes. “You don’t even know my name,” I said, grasping at straws. I wasn’t ready to part ways.

  “Eva, till we meet again.” With a gentle kiss to the back of my hand, he was gone.

  “Phew, I need a cold shower,” Marlowe announced as she took the seat next to mine.

  “You and me both,” I muttered as I watched my mystery man, Reed Baron, blend into a sea of people.

  Chapter 2

  One inflight movie and our plane had already started its descent into St. Thomas. I pretended to sleep most of the flight so I could listen to my iPod and daydream about Reed. My time would have been better spent mentally preparing for the interview, but I found replaying our encounter with different endings to be a more appealing option. In typical Marlowe fashion, she kept herself busy flirting with the man in our aisle seat.

  A hot gust of air greeted us as we exited the plane. “Island humidity. There goes my hair.” I lamented as I wiped the newly formed perspiration from my nose and tried to flatten out my frizz.

  “Your hair looks so good wavy.” Marlowe did a Carrie Bradshaw and tousled my hair to make it even bigger than it already was.

  “Sure it does.” I rolled my eyes and smoothed my hair down again. On the tarmac, I did a three-sixty taking in the tree-covered mountains. The saltwater air reminded me of happy memories visiting Jones Beach as a child. For a fleeting moment, the urge to skip out on the conference and spend the week relaxing by the ocean overwhelmed me. Quickly suppressing the juvenile idea, I thought of the mantra I had repeatedly told Marlowe everyday for the past two weeks: the trip is for business, not pleasure.

  “Woo wee! It’s hotter out here than the man I saw you talking to at the bar.” Marlowe fanned her face with a magazine and gave me one hell of a self-satisfied grin.

  She hadn’t mentioned anything on the plane, so I assumed in her post coital daze she hadn’t noticed Reed. Marlowe didn’t exercise impulse control. Ever. I felt her forehead. “You saw him and you’re only mentioning it now! What did Skinny Jeans do to you in the back room?”

  “Do you really want to know?” Marlowe quirked an eyebrow.

  “Pass.” I had a feeling I would be able to sleep easier at night if the details of Marlowe’s back room dalliance remained a mystery. “But really, how did you keep quiet the entire flight?”

  “Okay.” Marlowe grinned and squeezed my arm. “I saw tall dark and handsome give you his digits. And I also saw how bummed you looked when he walked away, so I decided to give you some space.” Marlowe grinned. “I did good right?”

  “Thanks for giving me some privacy, but it was nothing. Just some harmless flirting.” I feigned nonchalance, hoping she’d buy it. How did I tell my best friend that I was completely enamored with a total stranger? Reed made every cell in my body stand up and dance. I couldn’t speak about him without giving everything away.

  Marlowe gave me a look that said I’m not buying the shit you’re selling. Luckily for me, we passed a kiosk featuring Men of the Caribbean calendars. With the attention span of a flea, Marlowe forgot about our conversation and flitted over to the kiosk. She scanned the pictures on the backs of several calendars before shouting, “Onward!” as she pulled me toward baggage claim.

  Our luggage stood out thanks to Marlowe’s ingenious idea to wrap it in fluorescent pink tape. We hauled our bags outside where a gorgeous blonde piece of man meat brandished a sign with my name on it. His all white ensemble looked like a naval officer’s uniform and provided a delicious contrast to his perfectly tanned skin.

  Marlowe gave him an obvious once over before turning to me and mouthing, “Yummy.”

  With a boyish grin and almost imperceptible wink in our direction, he turned and opened the door of the stretch Hummer limo. He stood erect with one hand out, ushering us inside. His male stripper vibe made me want to do something indecent, like slip his tip in the waistband of his pants. I reddened under his watchful stare as I slunk into the limo, trying to look especially smooth and coordinated.

  The limo could have held fifteen people comfortably. A small disco ball hung from the center of the ceiling, you know, in case we wanted to party, and the refrigerator was fully stocked with all of my favorite drinks and snacks. As I munched on a chocolate covered pretzel, I made a mental note to buy Gina, my assistant, a really nice Christmas gift this year. She really had outdone herself.

  ***

  A crowded ferry took people from St. Thomas to St. John a few times a day. Since the idea of being stuck on a boat with a bunch of realtors gave me serious agita, I asked Gina to get me another means of transportation to the island no matter the cost. Just like the limo, she didn’t disappoint.

  The driver took us to a private yacht reserved for VIP guests of the hotel. A small calypso band played a catchy island tune that I found myself shaking my hips to as I boarded the Ramses’ Harem III. Outfitted with ivory leather seats, a large bar at one end of the cabin, and dance floor at the other end, it was a quintessential party boat that would be the perfect backdrop for any rap video.

  “This is a really good looking crowd,” Marlowe commented while scouting out a place to sit. She led us to a round couch in the center of the room. Her seating choice strategically placed us en route to the bar and the couch offered plenty of room for guests. Marlowe fanned out her beautiful red hair and expertly applied lipstick without using a mirror. She was the type of woman that men loved and women hated.

  The room was plastered with wall-to-wall gorgeous people who looked like they all went to the same cosmetic dentist and plastic surgeon. I didn’t think I could throw a dart without hitting some sort of implant and the teeth only came in one shade, blinding white. With my pale skin and sparse makeup I almost didn’t feel worthy enough to be on the boat. I tried in vain to smooth my frizzy for the tenth time since we landed on the island. “Yeah,” I said. “Everyone is so tan and fit. It’s like a casting call for a modeling agency.”

  “Or a high-end porno,” Marlowe quipped as she dug through her purse.

  “I’ll take that as my cue to go get us drinks.” I winked at Marlowe and stood up. Walking to the bar, I felt the cool ocean breeze on my skin and inhaled its briny smell. I took the moment to practice being present and in the moment, a skill I had been working on with my therapist. I could slip into the past without a moment’s notice and perseverate on all of my mistakes, especially when I was under stress. To succeed this week, I would need to practice mindfulness as often as possible.

  I took a seat at the bar and ordered a Sapphire Sin and a Sex on the Beach. Lighting illuminated the etched glass behind the liquor bottles. At first I couldn’t make out what I was seeing, then it became clearer. An involuntary gasp escaped my mouth. I looked around to make sure no one heard my prudish reaction to the artwork.

  The drawings depicted a man and woman having sex in positions that would require a contortionist’s skill. One image in particular captivated me. It contained a woman chained to a wall as her lover ravished her with an over-the-top giant penis that was bigger than his arm. The artist’s propo
rtions were laughable, but the sentiment was good. I closed my eyes and could almost smell Reed’s sultry cologne as I imagined myself in chains standing in front of him.

  Interrupting my daydream, a swoon worthy Southern voice drawled, “It’s the Kama Sutra. Are you familiar?”

  I swiveled in my barstool to face the owner of such a charming voice and wasn’t disappointed in the least by Tall Blonde and Southern. Wearing a plaid shirt and distressed jeans, he had the wholesome all-American boy look down to an art. Something about his grin, or maybe it was his crystal clear blue eyes, immediately put me at ease.

  “I’ve heard of the Kama Sutra,” I said casually. “But it’s not something you would find on my bookshelf.” Back in my sexually adventurous days, I may have Googled the Kama Sutra for ideas, but that wasn’t a tidbit of information that handsome stranger needed to know.

  “And what would I find on your bookshelf?” He flashed an adorable grin that showcased his perfect white teeth as he straddled the barstool next to mine.

  “Whoa, now you’re getting personal.” I couldn’t help but grin back at him. “Telling someone what you read at night is like baring your soul. I almost rather share my social security number.”

  “Now I’m dying to know what you’re reading and I’m willing to bug you the rest of the trip until you tell me,” he drawled. His mock determination was its own brand of adorable. It made me want to reach out and touch him.

  “That strategy may have worked on your Mom when you were five, but I have excellent willpower.” I crossed my arms and sat back in my chair.

  “So do I.” He grinned and copied my posture.

  “Fine,” I laughed, not willing to engage in any sort of battle of the wills. “I’ll tell you my favorite book if you share something about yourself that nobody else knows,” I countered and leaned forward putting my tits on display. What had gotten into me? Normally I could scarcely remember how to talk to the opposite sex in a non-business capacity and I definitely didn’t do coy. But today, I was the goddess of flirtation. Maybe it was just my way of letting off steam before the interview? Who knew? It seemed to be working, so I went with it.

  “Okay. That’s easy enough. I’ve been watching you since you boarded the boat and have been waiting to make my move,” he confessed. “Would you like to know more?”

  I bit my lower lip. Tall Blonde and Southern had me intrigued, but I wasn’t sure if I should open up yet another can of worms. In less than six hours, I had gone from being a workaholic who barely had time to notice the opposite sex to a flirty barfly with the sensibilities of a college freshman. My natural inclination was to keep the conversation short and part ways when my drinks came. But where would the fun be in that? I decided to take Marlowe’s advice and really put myself out there for once. Or twice.

  “I would love to know more.” I crossed my legs to give him a nice view of my second best asset. “But first, I think you have earned some answers. My favorite book is Fight Club and since I’m feeling generous, I’ll even give you a freebie. My name is Eva.”

  “Max.” He shook my hand, letting his grip linger long after the shake should have ended.

  “So Max, I detect a little bit of an accent.” The understatement made us both laugh. “Where are you from?”

  “St. Marys Georgia born and raised.” He poured on an even thicker Southern accent slowly drawling out each word.

  “I bet you use that to get all of the girls,” I laughed.

  “Only when my personality and looks fail.” His eyes lit up with mirth. “From your accent, I would guess New York,” he said, squinting his eyes like he was worried that he may have just committed a grave sin.

  My turn to be cute. I did my best Rosie Perez voice, “Fuhgeddaboudit. Am I that obvious?”

  “Nice,” he laughed and scooted forward on the edge of his chair, creating a more intimate space between us. “I bet you do that to scare away men. Blind date not to your liking, you whip out that voice and he bails before dessert.”

  I threw in some hand gestures and Sylvester Stallone to complete the effect. “What, you don’t like my super Brooklyn accent?”

  “It’s adorable, just like the way you bite your lip when you get that pensive look on your face.” He captured my eyes with his baby blues. “I think we would make a good couple.”

  Unable to look away, I felt my cheeks redden under his scrutiny. The idea of being with Max was an interesting one. Even though he was just hitting on me and probably didn’t really want a relationship, I imagined what it would be like to actually date Max. If he lived in New York, I think we could have some fun. But, if given a choice between Max and Reed, I would choose Reed. Max was hot, but he wasn’t the one I would be masturbating to the first moment I had alone.

  The bartender plunked down my drinks, breaking the spell Max had me under. I fished out my wallet as he wiped some spillage up with a rag. After paying, I turned back to Max. “I guess that’s my cue to rejoin my friend.” I stood up and then remembered my manners. “Would you like to join us?”

  “Of course. I’m not going to let you get away that easy.” Max took the drinks and motioned for me to show him the way.

  We joined Marlowe who had two guys that looked like professional body builders in stitches. She basked in their attention and flashed a megawatt smile that few men could resist. Marlowe gave me a wink as Max and I sat down across from her.

  “Marlowe, this is Max.” I introduced him and slid over her Sex on the Beach.

  “Hi Max, nice to meet you.” Marlowe smiled at him before turning to her guests. “Will and Aaron meet Eva and Max.” Hellos were exchanged all around. I wasn’t surprised that Marlowe was entertaining two men. She was a total siren. All it took was a flip of her hair and men came running.

  Looking bored, Marlowe took a sip of her drink and grimaced. “Yuck, too sweet,” she announced dismissing the drink before placing it roughly back down on the table.

  “I’ll go get you a new one,” Will and Aaron said in unison then both looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  “You’re my twin brother from another mother,” Will yelled and slapped Aaron on the back.

  “Bro, you’re not going to believe it.” Aaron’s voice was filled with glee. “I was just going to say that.”

  They both cracked up with laughter again. I wondered if they had a little ganja before boarding the boat. “It’s almost like watching a Cheech and Chong flick,” I whispered to Max.

  He chuckled and squeezed my hand. “I wouldn’t mind having some of their good stuff,” he whispered back.

  “Guys, I would love another drink.” Marlowe’s voice dripped with honey. She loved wielding power over men and she was good at.

  “We’ll be right back,” Aaron said.

  Will gave a little bow and they headed toward the bar.

  When they were out of earshot, Marlowe sighed and said, “Roids.”

  “They seem really nice,” I said, trying to make up for Marlowe’s bad behavior in front of Max.

  “Aren’t they all?” Marlowe rolled her eyes at me before turning all of her attention to Max. “So, you like my girl I see.”

  My eyes widened. I knew Marlowe was just trying to put him on the spot and play protective friend. But I wanted to shush her up anyway. Unfortunately, I wasn’t close enough to nudge her or if need be, cover her mouth.

  “Yes I do.” Max proclaimed. “She’s beautiful and I like her taste in books.”

  “Good answer.” Marlowe beamed at Max and gave me an obvious wink. “Now Max, you need to know that Eva is not just some girl you pick up at a bar on vacation. She is an educated and incredibly successful woman. As her best friend, it is my job to screen all potential suitors. Give me your wrist.” Marlowe held out her hand expectantly.

  Shaking my head, I watched on, not sure where she could possibly be going with this. I should have cut her off, but curiosity got the best of me.

  Max happily obliged and Marlowe wasted no time find
ing his pulse. “Okay. I am going to ask you some questions. If you lie, I will know, so answer carefully.”

  Max took a giant gulp in mock nervousness. He really was a good sport.

  “What is your name?” Marlowe fired her first question without warning.

  “Maximilian Adams.”

  “Good, you’re telling the truth.” Marlowe shifted her fingers like she was trying to get a better reading on his pulse. All of those acting classes had paid off. Marlowe was as convincing as a New York City psychic. “Where did you go to college?”

  “Emory.” Max turned and gave me a wink.

  “Very nice, a Southern boy.” Marlowe looked him up and down with a new light in her eyes. “Okay, next question. How many women have you slept with in the past month?”

  I slapped my forehead and turned to Max. “Do not answer that question.” I glared at Marlowe. “Game over. Marlowe, it’s like you’re an overprotective Dad or something.”

  “What? It’s a valid question,” Marlowe argued.

  Sometimes the only way to get through to Marlowe was to frame things so they were happening to her. “Marlowe, would you like someone to ask you that question?” I doubted she could even remember how many people she slept with in the past two weeks.

  “Eva, it’s not like I can actually tell if he’s lying. I just wanted to have some fun,” Marlowe pouted.

  “It’s okay. I don’t mind answering,” Max interjected.

  “Absolutely not,” I barked at him and returned my attention back to Marlowe.

  Having abandoned her drink, Marlowe reached for mine and took a sip. Apparently liking what she tasted, she set the drink down on the table in front of her and swung her gaze up to Max. “I’m sorry Max. The fact that you’re willing to answer my question, even though you are being censored, lets me know you’re a keeper.”