Page 1 of The Guest

1

KEVIN

“Iam so sorry, Kevin. Your bedroom is prepared, but the chef and his team are stranded in the next city two hours away. The five drivers just left to pick up the other guests, and they won’t be back until tomorrow.” Craig Rodriguez runs a hand through his hair, clearly flustered and stressed. He draws a breath and releases it. “I won’t take more than five hours, hopefully. Kara here will keep you entertained in the meantime. The other staff will arrive later, too.”

He motions for his daughter to step forward, and my breath stutters in my chest when I lay eyes on her. Bells ring inside my head, reaching a point where it becomes too loud to even think of anything or anyone but her. Craig’s voice becomes muffled, and I can no longer hear him.

Despite myself, I stiffen, my shoulders tensing as something crackles in the space between me and this beautiful, beautiful woman, electricity dancing on my nerve endings. Maybe this is what it’s like being hit by lightning.

A wave of desire so intense washes over me. It’s intensely palpable, and if I reach out and try to hold it, I can. Maybe. Possibly.

She has a small face framed by long, straight black hair that reaches her tiny waist. Her smooth olive skin is glowing, and her chocolate-brown eyes slowly draw me in.

Kara Rodriguez is pretty tall. I’d say somewhere between five-seven and five-nine. Since she’s wearing Daisy Dukes shorts that barely cover her ass, my heart slams at the sight of her legs that go on for miles. Then there’s that tiny hot pink bikini top, her nipples pushing against the thin fabric.

Holy fuck. This isn’t what I expected when I came here.

For a moment, I wonder if Craig is playing me. Trying to mess with my mind to get the upper hand in our negotiations later. But the panicked look on his face convinces me he’s telling the truth. He doesn’t want to leave his daughter with me, but he can’t have me tagging along as he fetches the staff. I can tell he knows the task is beneath him; he just doesn’t have much choice right now, especially with more guests coming in tomorrow.

“Hi, Kevin. I’m Kara.” A playful smirk tugs on the corner of her full lips. She knows I’m checking her out, and she knows I like what I see.

“Nice to meet you, Kara.”

The handshake is supposed to be quick, impersonal, and professional. It’s anything but. A jolt of electricity travels down my spine, forcing me to stand straighter. Blood rushes from my thighs to my balls and my cock.

I’m wearing dress pants. Fortunately for me, I untucked my button-down white shirt during the drive, so now I have it covering my pretty embarrassing erection. Barely.

“That’s settled.” Craig claps once and starts pointing around his house. “We have the cellar in the basement, the fridge is fully stocked with drinks, microwavables, and fresh fruits, you can swim in the pool or the beach. Just do whatever you want. I’ll be quick.”

I nod, and he rushes off to his car, leaving last-minute instructions to Kara as though she’s babysitting a child, not a grown thirty-five-year-old man.

I look around the massive beach house. It’s modern, all whitewashed wood and glass, with a wraparound porch that seems to stretch forever. When I arrived, I saw a balcony in every room, and there must have been at least twenty bedrooms.

It’s safe to assume this was built to hold gatherings because, as far as I know, Kara is an only child, and her mother divorced her dad and was remarried to a Hollywood star, leaving just her and Craig. They don’t need this big of a home unless he’s always inviting friends and business partners over.

I continue scanning the space. The polished wood floors gleam in the midday sunlight pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The open living room spills onto a vast area where a dozen matching lounge chairs face the ocean.

This place is relaxing, I’ll give it that. I can’t remember the last time I took a vacation, let alone enjoyed one.

“I’ll give you a tour of the house.” Kara’s voice pulls me out of my head, and I nod. She beams at me, and my heart races. “Follow me.”

It’s hard to hear a word she says because my eyes are glued to her ass hanging out of the poor excuse of shorts. My mind strays to dangerous territories, and as much as I want to tamp down the lurid visions parading in my brain, I keep on wondering how those glorious globes would feel on my hands or those tits on my mouth.

Fucking hell. What am I doing? This is a young woman. I’m way too old for her, not to mention that I’m here at her father’s invitation.

“Dad bought the land as a gift to my mom for their honeymoon. Instead of taking her to Paris, where she wants to go, he brought her here.”

“Well, that’s romantic.”

Kara doesn’t miss the sarcasm in my voice, and she casts me a sly grin over her shoulder. “That’s exactly what I told him. I mean, I get he wants to go the extra mile and gift her a vacation mansion, but the girl wants Paris, so give her Paris.”

“Do you like Paris?”

We walk upstairs, her hips swaying, and all I can think about is burying my face in between those thighs and relishing the heaven she has hidden there.

“I’ve been there too many times, it’s lost its appeal.” She stops in the middle of the stairs and turns to me. “For my honeymoon, I really don’t care where we are as long as my husband fucks me against every wall and in every corner.”

I choke on my own saliva, coughing and smacking my chest. “Jesus Christ.”

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