Page 17 of Beyond the Fame

“What... what are you going to do?” My voice wavers. Not with fear, but with lust. My cheeks burn with it. I squeeze my legs shut, attempting to ease the ache he’s causing, but Jensen tsks, shoving his knee between my thighs to spread them back apart.

“You’re not even a little sorry, are you?”

No. I should be. I don’t answer, but I don’t have to. He sees it all over my face.

“Bad Becky.” He moves his hand to my throat and grips it, squeezing gently, but dear lord I want him to squeeze harder. I close my eyes, leaning my head against the wall.

The elevator jolting to a stop on the fourth floor to let someone else on ends this... sexually charged moment.

I pop open my eyes and he’s stepped to my right. An older couple with silver hair gets on and pays no attention to our corner. Instead, they’re watching a TV built into the wall, playing the resort’s commercial on the screen, talking about all the fun activities and excursions to participate in.

Out of the corner of my eye, because I refuse to look at him, I notice Jensen adjusting his dick, trying to hide his erection.

I want to help him with that.

No.

Bad Becky.

The elevator makes it to the lobby without picking up more passengers. Jensen places his hand on my lower back, leading me out and guiding me through the crowd. Tourists pack the lobby, some holding drinks and chatting, others roll their luggage, trying to dodge people who are standing in their path to the elevator.

When a drunk man carrying a cocktail bumps into me, Jensen snakes his hand around my waist and yanks me against his side.

The protective move nearly has me wanting to finish what we started in the elevator, no—something I started in the room when I touched Jensen without his permission.

I’m an asshole.

We finally squeeze past all the bodies and follow the signs to the restaurant. A hostess guides us to a private area near the back of the patio setup where our friends crowd around a table fit for eight.

We're the last ones to arrive.

Mylan sits next to Lana, dressed in a short-sleeved button up decorated with colorful lilies. His dark curly locks frizz slightly because of the humidity. His tanned arm is slung over Lana’s bare shoulders—tinted pink from likely being in the sun today—and he's holding on to the tail of her red braided hair. Ginger and Bruno are across from them. Ginger is wearing a form-fitting white sundress, her natural coiled hair longer than last time I saw her. Her skin glows as Bruno whispers sweet nothings (I assume) into her ear. He’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt, his blond hair in a low ponytail, and his face is a shade of red—also likely sunburned—compared to the rest of his lightly tanned skin. Eloise is next to Ginger, choosing a long sundress to wear. For once she has her blonde hair styled down.

Mylan is the first to see us walk in. Jensen’s hand is still resting on my lower back, so I peel myself away before anyone notices and walk to the two remaining seats across from Eloise and next to Lana.

“Rebecca, finally!” She stands and gives me a crushing hug that I desperately wanted to linger. She releases me and frowns. “Why are you all flustered?” Her hazel gaze moves to Jensen trailing behind me. “Oh. That makes sense. Hi, Jensen. Love the beard.”

“Thank you, Lana,” Jensen responds, then throws a smirk my way. Jerk.

Mylan and Jensen do their silly best friend handshake, then he sits down next to Lana, whose eyes dance between the two of us.

“Are you and Jensen here together?” she asks, and I want to murder her.

“Yeah, why are you two arriving together?” Mylan adds, and I contemplate double homicide.

I take the chair beside Lana. Jensen sits next to me and wags his brows, feeding their speculation.

“Well,” I begin, “the hotel messed up my reservation. My room was canceled because of some glitch, and they didn’t have another room to give me. Jensen offered to let me stay in the second bedroom in his suite.”

Mylan chokes on the sip of water he just took.

Lana’s mouth drops open. “That was very kind of you, Jensen.”

I scoff.

“Rebecca,” Lana scolds, “when are you going to realize that Jensen is a nice guy?”

“He’s really not.”

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