The salon was in the hotel lobby, just past the elevators on the right hand side. There were a half dozen white salon chairs all facing full-length mirrors, and surprisingly, only one was taken. They were seated right away, given a menu of complimentary appetizers and beverages, and soon Renee was whisked away to another room for a facial, leaving Samantha on her own to look through style magazines.

She should not have been trusted with style magazines. The last time she’d picked out her own hair, she’d ended up with minuscule bangs and a perm. She rocked forward in her seat, looking through the other reading material, when a buzzing noise sounded from her purse. She instantly grinned, knowing full well who it was, and fetched her bag from the hanger on the wall.

A text.

Wild Stallion: Are you alone?

She grinned wickedly, then looked around to make sure no one was watching. Only the petite brunette sat in the corner with foils in her hair.

Mona: Sort of. I’m in the salon waiting for my haircut. Where are you?

Wild Stallion: Sitting in my room, thinking of you.

Her stomach tightened and she crossed her legs.

Mona: I don’t like being away from you. This is harder than I thought.

Wild Stallion: You’re telling me.

She burst into laughter but quickly covered her mouth.

Mona: That’s not what I meant and you know it.

Wild Stallion: Did you hear about the party?

She grinned.

Mona: Yes

Wild Stallion: I’ll see you there.

Mona: See you.

She tucked her phone back in her bag, just as Renee came back into the room wearing a green mask with slices of cucumbers on her lids. An esthetician was guiding her through the Salon, and finally plopped Renee down in the seat beside Samantha, and proceeded to attach a headrest to the back of her chair.

“I didn’t want to wait back there all alone,” Renee said. “I missed you too much.”

Samantha laughed and hung her bag back on the wall. “Good, because I was just about to pick out my own haircut, and we all know how well that turns out.”

Renee cracked a tiny grin. “Those itty bitty bangs you had in eighth grade,” she stated. “But don’t worry, I’ve already called ahead and told them exactly what to do.”

Samantha grinned. “Thank you.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, as the esthetician reclined Renee back in her chair, positioning her feet up on a stool so she could massage them. When the esthetician began to knead, Renee visibly relaxed and almost melted.

“So,” she began sleepily. “When does Steven arrive? I was worried for a minute he might get here before you and I’d have to entertain him on my own.”

It was meant as a joke, one she’d made regularly when they lived together, but the whole energy in the room instantly shifted. Samantha cleared her throat, knowing her friend had no idea what had happened, and grabbed a copy of the Wall Street Journal from the shelf. “We broke up,” she said softly, hoping the nonchalance in her voice carried to her best friend, but as soon as the words exited her lips, Renee removed the cucumbers from her eyes.

“What?” Renee whispered. “When?”

Samantha closed the magazine and turned to face her. “On the trip. Two days ago.” She took a breath, trying to calm her nerves. “You were right. He put everything above me and I was sick of it. When he called to tell me he couldn’t make it to the wedding, that was the end for me.”

Renee frowned, sending bits of green mask to fall to her shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Sam.”

She shrugged. “Don’t be. I should have done it a long time ago…like you said.”

A tear slipped down Renee’s cheek, leaving a streak of flesh visible through the thin mask.

Samantha sat forward and grabbed hold of Renee’s hands. “I thought you’d be happy. I thought—”

“I’m pissed, Sam. So angry he’s treated you like this again.”

Samantha nodded, her chin slightly quivering, because it was obvious how much Renee loved her, how ferociously she cared about her.

“This trip has taught me a lot about myself.” She began. “One being that Steven and I were never meant for each other. I don’t think even as kids, but especially not now.”

Renee nodded, as though she’d known this fact a long time. “How did you do it? What did you say?”

Samantha winced. “I did it by text. I know it wasn’t ideal, but he was always too busy to talk. I knew he’d at least check his messages.”

Renee raised her eyebrows. “How did he respond?”

“I don’t know. My phone got wet. I have no idea.”

Renee laughed, then turned in her seat and looked at Samantha through the mirror. “Serves him right. Though honestly, I’m surprised he let you go that easily. I’m surprised he hasn’t tried calling me to get to you.”

Samantha sighed. “I guess he’s resigned to it being over. He’s focused on his career, and I’m honestly relieved about that. It will make things easier when I get home.” She nodded for emphasis, then turned in her seat to continue reading. But a large burly man came to stand behind her at that moment.

“You must be Samantha,” he said in a deep, husky voice.

She nodded, then glanced over at Renee with eyes as wide as saucers.

Renee giggled. “Tom, this is my best friend Sam. She just broke up with her boyfriend, and needs the hottest haircut within your ability.”

Tom smiled, instantly transforming his face into something reminiscent of a teddy bear. “You got it, Nay,” he said. Tom lowered Samantha’s seat, indicating she should follow him, and gestured for her to sit down at the shampoo bowl.

“Lie back,” Tom said. He then guided her neck down into sink, where he began delicately removing her braids. He then wet her scalp, sending the perfect temperature water over her head, and proceeded to wash her hair—with the strongest, most skilled fingers she’d ever felt in her life. Almost.

* * *

Samantha’s hotel room turned out to be a mere two doors down from Renee’s. Two.

Convenient for borrowing deodorant, but not so convenient if she wanted to sneak a certain someone into her room in the middle of the day. It wasn’t that she wasn’t having fun either, because spending time with her best friend was exactly where she wanted to be. She craved their interaction, their easy friendship that allowed them to speak freely, or be perfectly silent without any awkwardness at all.

At one point during their appointment, Renee was telling her about her and Phin’s first date, and Samantha thought she might cry, she was laughing so hard. Or at another time, when Renee told her again the story of how he proposed, Samantha thought she might cry, but this time because it was utter sweetness.

And then, they had a long talk about Steven, and about how Samantha feared she’d stayed with him for so long for all the wrong reasons. Because she was scared of hurting people, of saying no. Scared of rejections, and of failure. In the end, they had a big ol’ cry fest about how much they missed each other, and made promises to visit each other whenever they could, no matter where they lived or how difficult life became.

But now, she was alone in her room, which left plenty of time to think about Tristan. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact he’d become the forbidden fruit, or if it was something else, but all her hormones were bursting. Having him at her will for two days had ruined her for life. Already, all she could think about was kissing him, touching him, and him touching her. She dangled her feet off the side of the bed and let out a deep sigh.

She’d tried to take a nap as Renee was doing, but every time she closed her eyes, memories of Tristan’s lovemaking played through her mind, making her feel…anything but rested.

Deciding to give up on sleep, she fetched her purse from the top of her dresser, and carried her toiletries and makeup to the bathroom. She arranged everything on the countertops meticulously, then hitched her leg up on a chair and began shaving her legs, taking ten times as long as she normally would for such a tedious task. But still, hours remained until she needed to be ready for the party. She turned around to rest her bottom on the counter and looked at the tub.

It had been years since she’d soaked in a bath. Years since she’d had one available. She pushed herself to stand from the pristine white counter and walked over to run her fingers along the cool porcelain edge. Her apartment back in LA didn’t have a bathtub, and the idea of soaking her muscles sounded heavenly. She turned on the faucet and let the tub fill halfway with water before adding a scoop of bath crystals that were graciously provided on a silver bath tray.

Fragrant lavender and lemon filled the bathroom, and on impulse, she fetched her bag off the counter and pulled out her phone to send a message to Tristan.

Mona: Are you alone?

It was a simple message, well meaning and straight to the point… And not five seconds later, her phone rang and she slid open the call.

“Where are you?” he asked with a husky flirtation.

She sat on the edge of the bathtub, smiling as she tested the temperature with her fingers. “My room.”

“That’s a shame, you should be in mine.”

She grinned, letting her bath robe slip down her shoulders then fall softly to the floor. “I’m about to get in the bath,” she said. Tingles traveled down her body simply from the admission. She felt naughty, sexy, and she wished she could see his face.

“Where’s your room?” he asked then. “I’ll be there in two minutes.”

She only smiled and put one foot in the water. “You can’t. Renee’s room is just across the hall. It’s too risky.”

He groaned. “I like risks.”

She laughed and lowered her body farther. “Well I don’t, and I’m the only one who knows my room number.”

He was quiet a moment, and she could almost see him smiling. “Touché, little one.”

She grinned and leaned back, resting her neck in the built-in pillow. “Little one?” she asked, her nose wrinkling at the pet name.

“It’s only fact.”

She nodded, letting her body relax. “So what did you do today? Anything for the wedding?”

“Eh, this and that. Mostly hung out with Phin and his family. And thought about you in that dress.”

She grinned. “Did you like it?”

“I did.”

“Good,” she said, leaning forward to turn off the water. The bath was completely full at this point, so she tightened the handles, then leaned back in her spot. The water must have made a splashing sound, because the line became incredibly quiet.

“Are you in the bathtub, Samantha?” There was a thread of humor in his voice, but she could hear it going deeper too.

She wrinkled her nose, then bit her finger as a rush of embarrassment warmed her cheeks. “Yes,” she whispered.

He made an obvious clearing of his throat and spoke again. “Are you naked?”

She laughed, because what kind of question was that? “Of course I’m naked. What kind of baths do you take?”

He laughed then, and she could almost see him throwing his head back. “No no no… We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you.”

“Okay then. Yes. I’m very much naked.” She was grinning ear-to-ear, feeling giddy and silly all at the same time.

“Are there bubbles?”

She laughed “Yes.” She bit her lip. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I’m trying to visualize you, and every detail helps.”

“Oh yeah? How am I looking?”

“Hot. Really hot.”

She bit her lip, loving the playful tone of his voice. She leaned her head back, realizing she loved talking to him so much. She loved—everything about him. She sunk a little deeper in the water and whisked up a pile of bubbles with her fingers. “And where are you, Mr. Montgomery?”

“In bed,” he stated. There was a seductive tone to his voice, but he didn’t elaborate. Which left her mind running with possibilities. With naughty thoughts of what he could be doing there.

The line went silent again, and soon she sat forward wanting to ask where he went. But before the words crossed her lips, his rich sexy baritone came through the receiver again. “Grab the soap, Samantha.”

She smiled, shocked by the request, and glanced toward the small box of soap sitting on the side of the tub before leaning back again. “I’m not grabbing the soap,” she said firmly, but she couldn’t quite contain her grin.

“Why? Do you not like soap?”

“No.” She laughed. “I just know what you want me to do and I’m not about to do it.”

“And what’s that?”

“I’m not having phone sex with you, Tristan,” she whispered, grinning ear to ear.

“I didn’t ask you for phone sex. I asked you to grab the soap.”

“Why do I feel ‘soap’ is the code word for phone sex?”

He laughed. “Because you’re a prude?”

Her mouth fell open in shock. “I’m not a prude, I—”

But before she could finish her sentence, he cut her off. “Then grab the soap, Samantha.”

She narrowed her eyes, because there was no denying the blatant “I dare you” in his request. She bit her bottom lip again, begrudgingly leaning forward to grab the little box. “Fine. You win.”

“Good,” he said in a cocky voice. “I like winning.”

She smiled again, and slid the soap from its silver housing. “Well I like cocky men, so I guess we’re both winners.”

He laughed again, but only for a second, because the mood had suddenly changed to something more serious. She slipped the soap under the water, getting it good and wet before she spoke again. “Now that I have the soap, sir, what do you want me to do with it?”

He groaned, and she sunk deeper still, letting her head loll back until the tops of her breasts were all that could be seen above the water. But she could feel herself getting aroused, even though he hadn’t touched her at all. Even though he hadn’t even looked at her.

“Rub it between your fingers, Samantha. Squeeze it, until a thick white foam builds between your hands.”

She did as he said, manipulating the soap and building the suds between her fingers, until they were slick.

He paused for a second, and she could hear his breath getting heavier. “Now place your hands at the top your knees. At the very top, where you have that one little freckle on the left side. Do you see it?”

She glanced down, placing her hands on the spot he spoke about—but she was choking up inside, because she was sure he was the only person in the world who knew about it. “Okay,” she whispered. “It’s there.” How in two days had he memorized her so well? How in a matter of days could she love him this much?

“Now slide your hands down, slowly,” he whispered. “Imagine my hands with yours, sliding the slick soap all the way down your thighs, until our fingers tangle in the hair between them, until we feel how wet you are.” He paused for a long moment, and she could hear him breathing. “Are you wet, Samantha?”

Her body shuddered, and her stomach constricted as she touched herself. “Oh God, Tristan.”

“Answer me.”

She nodded. “Yes.”

A loud knock sounded at the door, and she almost dropped the phone. She sat up, letting the soap drop to the bottom of the tub and grabbed her robe off the floor.

“I gotta go!” she said quickly. “Someone’s here.” She slid the phone across the bathroom floor, quickly rose out of the water, and stepped out of the tub. “Just a minute!” Then she pulled a fluffy white towel from the rack and wrapped it around her head.

She was still tying the belt at her waist when she got to the door and stretched up on tiptoe to look out the peephole.

A bellhop stood in the middle of the hall. There was a hopper full of luggage behind him, and she mentally cursed him for interrupting them.

“What the hell does he want?” she whispered, but opened the door anyway and smiled. “Hi there. I think there must be a misunderstanding, because all my luggage is already here.”

He glanced at his tablet, checking the room number, then back up to Samantha. “Are you Miss Smiles?” he asked, his brows rising as he waited for her response.

“Well yes, but—”

He then lowered a dolly from the hopper, and soon her bubble wrapped creation was positioned right in front of her door. “Is this not yours, Miss Smiles?”

She covered her mouth, shocked she’d been able to forget such a thing. “Yes, that’s mine,” she clarified. “I—forgot.” She scratched the back of her head, and glanced around her hotel room, looking for a place to put it. “Would it be okay for you to put it in the bedroom? I don’t want my friend seeing it when she comes over.”

He nodded quickly, then disappeared to the bedroom a moment before Renee appeared at the door.

“What’s going on?” Renee said, grabbing hold of a strand of Samantha’s still dripping hair that had escaped from her towel. “You ruined your hair.”

Samantha closed the door behind them, and stepped into the room. “It’s not ruined. I took a bath.”

Renee shrugged, just as the bellhop came back from the bedroom with the empty dolly. She raised her brows suggestively, then hung her garment bag up on the back of the bathroom door. “Sowing your oats already?”

The bellhop turned bright red, but came to stand in front of Samantha anyway. “Ma’am,” he began. “Is there anything else you’ll be needing this evening?”

Samantha shook her head, not knowing if she should tip him or not, but after Renee’s comment, she fetched a twenty off her dresser and curled it up in his hand. “Thank you,” she said. “I really appreciate it.” She then escorted him to the hall, locked the door, and turned around, seeing her best friend lounging on the couch with her feet up.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” she asked Renee. “I thought you were taking a nap?”

Renee shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep. Plus, I thought it would be more fun to get ready together.” She rose to her feet and unzipped the garment bag before turning around. “I brought you something to wear.”

Samantha laughed. “I brought my own clothes, you know.”

Renee bit her bottom lip, “But your clothes are boring. Besides, I brought you something special. Something hot.” She pulled a wooden hanger from the bag, and Samantha gazed at the small piece of black fabric that hung by straps as thin as spaghetti.

She raised her brows before looking at her best friend again. Because it barely looked large enough to fit Renee, and Samantha was much more voluptuous. “That’s not going to fit me.”

Renee pulled a pair of five-inch heels out of the bag. “Don’t be silly.” She then took Samantha’s hand and began pulling her toward the bathroom. “Now, let’s get your hair blown out and get you ready.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one getting you ready? Tonight is about you, Ren, not me.”

Renee positioned Samantha in front of the mirror and shook her head at their reflection. “You’re single for the first time in six years, and there happens to be some really hot groomsmen.”

“Ren—” she tried to protest, but Renee only pushed her down in the chair and pulled the towel from her head “You’re going to let loose tonight, Samantha. That’s all I want. And yes, I’m using my bride status to get you to conform to my will. Get over it.”

Samantha was barely able to control her giggles as Renee began to work her magic.

For all the creativity Samantha had with clay, Renee had just as much when it came to beauty. She brushed, curled, and teased Samantha’s hair until it hung in large, glossy waves down her back. Then she worked on Samantha’s makeup, giving her skin a dewy, flawless finish, with smoky eyes and a pouty, nude lip that made her almost giddy.

“There,” Renee said to her reflection. “Now you can go get dressed.”

Samantha stood up from the chair, and Renee immediately took her place and began doing her own makeup.

The romper still hung on the back of the door, and she took it from its hanger before turning back to Renee. “I don’t know, Ren. I don’t think I can wear a bra with this.”

Renee barely glanced up from applying her mascara. “You don’t. There are pasties in the bag, just put those on.”

Samantha wiped over her face, thinking Renee was crazy, but then she started to imagine what Tristan would think if he saw her like this. What he would say, or not say—and that was all it took for her to grab the romper and head out of the room. Immediately, she went to her bedroom, fetched a minuscule black thong and put it on with the pasties. She’d never worn such a thing in her life, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel sexy.

After stepping into the romper, she pulled the thin straps over her shoulders, and just like Renee said, it fit her perfectly, though there was barely enough fabric to cover her ass. She bent over, testing it out as she watched herself in the mirror. Luckily the bottom was shorts, because there was no way she’d be able to bend over otherwise.

She stepped into the five-inch heels and did a spin in front of the mirror to check all angles. Her back was almost bare, all the way down to the top of her panty line. The only thing covering it was the thin straps that crossed in the back in an X, and left no question about what was underneath…or what wasn’t.

The front was actually the most conservative of the piece. The fabric extended all the way up to her neck, draping sensually over her breasts. She had to admit, it was sexy as hell.

She found Renee leaning against the doorjamb watching her. Her nose wrinkled like a raisin as she grinned from ear to ear. “You look hot,” Renee said, pushing off the wall to stand beside Samantha. She wore a dress equally as short as Samantha’s but made of a white lace. The color was a gorgeous contrast against her golden skin, and together they crossed the whole spectrum of sexual beasts. Day vs. Night. Light vs. Dark. Angel vs. Devil.

Renee handed her a couple of gold bangles and a pair of earrings. “Put these on. We should get going in a few minutes.”

Samantha did as she was told, but before they left for the party, she excused herself once again to the bathroom. There on the floor, under a fallen towel, she found her cell phone.

Wild Stallion: Have you ever heard the term ‘Blue balls’?”