Krysta stroked my head as another yawn took me and my eyes slid closed without me telling them to. “I promise it’s better this way. Better with the rules,” she assured me after a long beat, and I meant to argue with her, to tell her that ifthis waymeant no sex, it definitely couldn’t be better—but she was so cozy and the sea rain on the window was so soothing, and I’d tell her tomorrow, just after I finished resting my eyes...
Chapter Eight
Iwoke with a slightly stiff neck and a full bladder, but Krysta’s arm was curled around my waist and it was one of the few times I could remember wishing I was the type of person who slept through alarms. We lay spooning together on the sofa despite my bedroom being just a few steps away. It was like neither of us wanted to break the cuddle trust even if it meant simply relocating.
But now I had to pee, and my bladder was unwilling to wait for anyone or anything. Even my schedule. Even horny cuddles.
I disentangled myself and tiptoed to the bathroom. You knew things were serious when I forgot to do my skincare routine and fell asleep with makeup on. As I flipped on the light, I braced myself for what the mirror would reveal.
At first, the harsh light was blinding. It was still partially dark outside from the storm. But then my eyes focused, and I coughed out a gasp. “What the actual fuck?”
My tube of lipstick—THEY REALLY LOVE ME, a true red from last year’s fall collection—was squashed flat and the lid rolled around in the sink. On the mirror in a frantic scribble was a message. For me.
TIME TO FACE THE MUSIC
BACKSTAGE 6:30 PM
My brain was doing laps around every possibility. How did anyone even get in my room? This felt like an actual invasion. Dangerous, even. Someone was in here. Just feet away from me and Krysta.
Outside the door, something rustled.
Krysta. Shit. She couldn’t see this. She’d go ballistic and handcuff me to her.
Okay, actually that sounded pretty fun. But I’d rather do it in more of an informed-role-play situation and not because I had a weird, threatening stalker.
Krysta yawned from the other room. “Addison?”
“Just a minute,” I called back as I slammed the door and frantically looked for makeup wipes. Disclaimer: I could never admit to my aesthetician that I carried makeup wipes. After I launched some as part of my nighttime skincare line, she lectured me about how all they did was move dirt and makeup around your face and that she needed me to promise I would only ever use them in emergency situations. Julia’s hands were actual magic, so I would have probably discontinued the product altogether if she’d asked.
I began to wipe the mirror and immediately saw exactly what she meant by just moving the makeup around. Red streaks smeared across my reflection, and I quickly abandoned the wipe for micellar water, which did a slightly better job.
“I’m going down to my room to get ready,” Krysta said. “We disembark for our excursions in an hour. Should I order room service?”
“An acai bowl and an iced coffee, but don’t tell anyone the iced coffee is for me, please!” My shoulders slumped with relief.Krysta wouldn’t have a reason to come back up here before the housekeeping crew came through.
I had twelve hours to figure out how the hell I was going to escape Krysta and what I was going to say when I finally came face-to-face with this creep. Guilt swam in my stomach. I didn’t want to break Krysta’s rules (unless it was for ahornyreason, like her riding my mouth harder than a roller coaster). After hearing about what had happened with her first client, I understood why Krysta had the boundaries she did. It wasn’t a small thing to agree to hold someone’s life in your hands, and maybe it was only worth doing if you knew the trust went both ways.
But.But.
But I had to handle this quietly. And I had a feeling Krysta’s way of handling would not be quiet in the least...
Ispent the day in Cabo San Lucas making appearances at one excursion after the next. First was the water-adventure park, then the cenotes, then a beach party, and finally a food tour. Krysta and I hardly had a moment alone even when Bailey was wiggling her way into as many experiences as she possibly could. It was annoying, but impressive.
Still, there were selfies to be taken and fans to woo. But thankfully there was not a single foam party.
When we returned to the ship later that afternoon, I immediately began to get ready for my evening events. There were two shows and multiple private dinners I was set to appear at, including a small VIP event to soft launch my new line of nonalcoholic highballs. It was a night so tightly scheduled that it needed to be lubricated. (Couldn’t blame a girl for being horny after a hands-off day spent with Bodyguard Mommy, could you?)
Krysta patiently waited while I primped and fussed, but finally I walked out into the downstairs living area.
Krysta swallowed and gave me one of those fierce looks of hers. She wore fitted slacks and a white button-down shirt that was undone a touch below the level of decency. It was fucking hot.
“If I were some toxic dude,” she said, “I’d say I’m not letting you out of the room in that.”
My dress was a short lavender sequined shift halter top with a low scooping back and a delicate chain across the back of my waist keeping it all together. And there was side boob. Tasteful side boob. Had I chosen the dress with the intention of Krysta ripping it off? Perhaps. Did her feasting eyes make me feel slick and needy? Without a doubt.
“While I love the sound of you not letting me go anywhere, I have to get to the theater and check in on everyone before the first show tonight.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you do too much?” she asked as she opened the door for me to step out into the hallway.
