Rooms Without Locks

CHAPTER 2

ZYLIAH'S POV

It was a long time later before I managed to pull myself together, rose to my feet, and headed for my car.

I took one last look at his closed door. They weren't out yet, and I didn't need to wonder what they were doing-I already knew. Still having sex, and probably talking about me... or mocking me.

That last part broke my heart. How long had this been going on between them? I'd probably been a fool to them, especially Fynn.

I settled in the driver's seat of my car, buckled up, and still crying.

Going home wasn't an option. Sabrina might not be there, but her mother would, ready to mock me in her place.

Picking up my phone to call my friends, I hesitated, and ended up setting it down again. I couldn't talk about it now. It was too painful.

Plus, what would I tell them? That I caught Fynn and Sabrina fucking each other in his apartment, and my supposed fiancé had texted me to come see the 'surprise' he had for me? No, it was too embarrassing.

Opting for a stay at a hotel far away from here, far away from home, from where anyone would recognize me, far from where I wouldn't have to be asked questions. I drove a little too fast.

My phone rang. It was Natasha, my best friend. I was supposed to meet her and Delia, my other friend, today.

I refused to pick up. Next was Delia which meant they were together, waiting for me.

They both kept calling until I couldn't ignore it anymore. "Hello."

"Thank goodness, Zyliah. We almost thought you'd gotten into an accident or something. Delia and I were about to come to your house, and if we didn't find you there, our next stop was going to be Fynn's," Natasha said, sounding relieved.

"I'm sorry, I can't make it anymore. You girls should have fun without me." It was impressive how I managed to keep my tone normal, not giving away my pain...

"Are you okay? You don't sound okay, Zee," Delia chipped in.

...or not. I heaved a sigh. Trust Delia to be the one to point it out-it's like her ears were tuned to emotion or something. "I'll talk to you girls later."

"Hey, don't hang up," Natasha hastily warned before I could press the red button. "What's wrong? Come over, let's talk. We don't have to go out anymore. We could just hang out in Delia's."

I blinked back tears and slowed down a little. "You guys are the best, but... no, I'll be fine. I just want to be alone."

I knew Natasha would argue, so before she could say anything more, I pressed the red button and turned off my phone.

Twenty‐something minutes later, I was settled in my suite. The seclusion and comfort I thought I wanted were starting to mess with my head.

For the past five minutes, all I'd done was let the memory of what happened in Fynn's apartment an hour ago torment me-mentally and emotionally. The tears wouldn't stop falling as the deafening silence pulled me deeper into it.

Unable to take it anymore, I left my suite with puffy eyes and a blotchy nose, looking for a way to quiet my thoughts.

I ended up at the hotel bar. "One shot of tequila, please."

The tattooed bar guy gave me a sympathetic once-over as he slid my drink to me. He was probably used to customers like me, and I knew I was right from the way he glanced at me.

"Whoever he is, he doesn't deserve you," he said, sliding my second shot to me.

Yep! My guess was right. He knew all about the heartbroken girls dumped by their jerk boyfriends.

I heaved a sigh and decided, with reckless abandon, to drown my sorrow and memories.

"Another round," I said, my words slurred and slow.

"I think that's enough for the night, ma'am."

After much argument-which the bar guy won, much to my annoyance-I paid and dropped a generous tip. I hobbled to my suite, unable to walk on my own, holding the wall for support.

I was so intoxicated, my brain had gone fuzzy. And yet, somehow, I was still thinking about my cheating ex-fiancé and my evil stepsister.

Reaching my suite, I realized I hadn't locked it when I left for the bar, but the lights were off. I staggered into the room and collapsed on the bed.

I was already dozing off when I heard a voice. "Oh, you're here already."

But being too wasted on tequila, I found it draining to speak, and when I tried, it came out as a grunt.

A pair of strange hands stroked my legs, and being vulnerable, heat quickly spread up to my soft folds.

A drunken moan escaped.

The bed dipped beside me. I couldn't see his face, but I caught the scent of aftershave and damp skin, like he'd just stepped out of the shower.

The tequila in my system made me wrap my arms around him, my nose brushing his jaw. He smelled so nice. "So niceee..."

"You're one drunk lady," he said. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. "Well, I am too."

He kissed me, his tongue sliding into my mouth, and it fanned the heat building between my legs. Drunk and aroused, I only clung tighter.

I felt his erection through his briefs, and a loud, needy moan escaped me again.

He was making me feel things I didn't even know I could feel, not with this much alcohol in my system. He left my mouth and trailed kisses down my body until he reached my breasts. His teeth tugged at the fabric of my dress, and I let out a lustful sigh.

His hands moved quickly, unclothing me until I was wearing nothing but my own skin-hot, flushed, and aching for his touch.

"Oh...yeah." I squirmed when he took a taut nipple into his mouth, teasing it while his hand kneaded the other.

Wriggling from the heady passion, my knees brushed his loins. He let out a grunt. "Oh, fuck!"

Within seconds, he was stark naked and thrusting into me like a man desperate for release.

In the dark, we found each other's lips-and everything else. We both demanded and gave with the same hunger.

By the time I neared climax, he had changed our position and was taking me from behind.

"Oh...mmm." I cried out softly as my body found its release.

A few seconds later, he spilled himself inside me, groaning as he reached his peak.

Drained and numb, I slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.