Page 5 of Her Filthy Mistake

Thirty Minutes Later

The walkway from the resort bar to the bungalows down on the water is peaceful. In the distance, the sun beats down on the ocean causing it to sparkle. The plankway to the gathering of 20 perfectly positioned bungalows is devoid of people.

After the never-ending bustle of Vegas, it’s a welcome change of pace to be here. And the bungalows? They shine like jewels over the water. They’re brown and white structures with blacked-out windows that cover all sides of the buildings. I’m guessing the windows keep the temperatures down inside, as well as disguise whatever vacation letting loose that goes on inside while still allowing the guests to view the gorgeous scenery.

There are a few people wandering around or down by the water, but they’re far enough away that I can’t hear what they’re saying. The tension in my back eases with each subsequent step. I didn’t realize I needed a break this badly. Hell, outside of these family gatherings, I never take time off.

At first, I was trying to make it big, which was a colossal mistake. Then it was because I was dead-ass broke. And now? Now, I want to prove to Everleigh, my boss, that she didn’t fuck up by putting her faith in me.

When I come to the fork in the sidewalk, I turn toward the plankway as a couple approaches. I slip my bags higher onto my shoulder as they pick up the pace. I’m not in the mood for idle chitchat. It’s going to take every ounce of my energy to face Zoe and not lose my….

Shit? Sanity? Control? All the above?

I’ve avoided her for so long that I’m not sure what’ll happen.

“Jace Graham?” A woman’s voice calls out to me. Keep going. Just ignore it.

“Jace Graham? I know that’s you.”

Fuck. I groan and come to a stop. The woman jogs toward me as the man follows behind her at a slower pace. Her bleach-blonde hair makes her fake tan stand out with an almost orange tint, that paired with her overinflated tits bouncing with each step closer, has my jaw flexing.

The woman is wearing a yellow string bikini, and the man behind her is sporting Hawaiian print swim trunks. Like her, he’s tan, but he looks less phony. He has short brown hair, is decently muscular, and has a slight amount of flab around his gut.

“Hello.” Her eyes dance as she plows into me, knocking me sideways. I grasp her arms to keep both of us upright. I’ve seen the feline expression on her face too many times to count–groupie. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know she’s down for anything.

As her body smashes into mine, my gaze darts back to the man whose phone is plastered to his face. Pictures? Seriously?

This time, I groan outwardly. I don’t miss this. Not that I was ever a successful musician by any stretch of the imagination, but it doesn’t matter to the groupies. They’re there whether you’re singing in front of twenty people or a stadium of 20k.

I quickly straighten her and step back, arching an eyebrow. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I don’t know you.”

“Oh, you will.” She winks and runs her fingertip along my chest, catching the pocket of my T-shirt. “You’re more beautiful in person than on video.”

“Thank you.” My body is rigid and on high alert, as I retreat a step, only to have her follow in my wake.

“Are you here with anyone?” She licks her red-painted lips.

“Yes, I am.” Even if it’s a slight exaggeration, I lean into the lie. This woman wouldn’t leave me alone if I told her I was on a trip with my family. She likely won’t care that I’m here with a woman, but I’ll hold onto that one lifeline because I have no interest in someone like her. Or anyone else, for that matter.

‘Liar.’ A little voice says in my head. ‘You’re a liar.’ I blink it away, shoving at that voice until it’s gone.

“Oh, that’s too bad.” The light in her eyes dims a little, and then she slaps on a brave face. “If you change your mind or your date gets too boring, I’m in Room 310 at the main resort.”

“And him?” I tip my head toward the man who has managed to keep his distance from us. He could be anything from her brother to her husband, but I’m betting he’s her husband or boyfriend.

“That’s my husband.” She bites her bottom lip and looks me up and down with an unmistakable invitation in her eyes. “He loves to watch….” Her eyes arch upward. “He even likes to join in if the enticement is right.”

“I see.” I swallow hard and put that elusive distance back between us. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“My name is Lisa.” Her voice is slow and seductive. “And that’s my husband, Brian. If you change your mind and want a good time, stop by. I’ll let you do whatever you want. Over and over again.”

No, thank you.

With that, I walk away. I can’t do whatever I want. And if I could, it wouldn’t be with her. Or her and her husband. I don’t have to look back to feel her eyes roving over me, and the need to scrub myself clean presses down on me like a weight.

Chapter Three

Zoe

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