The annoying ringing of the hotel room phone wakes me up. I reach my arm out to the nightstand and pick it up, my eyes heavy.

“Yeah?”

“Mr. Ryan, I’m very sorry to bother you so late, but we have a problem,” The urgency in the receptionist’s voice sparks my curiosity.

“What is it?”

“There’s a woman here, demanding to see you. Her name is Stacy. Do you know her?”

“Yeah, I do,” I mutter, rubbing my blurry eyes. “I’ll be downstairs in a minute. Thanks.”

“Stacy?” I whisper her name, scooting over to the edge of my bed. Questions are already popping into my mind, before I even put my t-shirt on. First of all, how did she find out where I live? I never told her. Second, what the hell is she doing here?

You’d better not be here to apologize to me again, darling. If you are, I swear to God I’m going to kick you out, even if I become a spectacle.

I splash some water onto my face, anger spreading within me like wildfire. The more I think about it, the more I believe she’s feeling guilty about shooting me down and wants to say how sorry she is again. What a goddamn hypocrite. She’s not doing this for me. She’s doing it for herself.

I’m going to teach you the meaning of another Greek word for a change. You mentioned irony. I’ll finish this game by teaching you all about hypocrisy. I’m going to videotape this stupid apology, and then remind you what you said at the bar.

The ding of the elevator rings in my ears. As the elevator slide open, what I come across doesn’t resemble the restrained girl I went out with tonight. In fact, it’s nothing like her. Stacy is at the reception, screaming at a waiter and the receptionist alike. She turns to face me, and when she does, I understand what might be behind her transformation. She staggers across the hall, with her pink purse in her grasp.

“Dean…” she calls out my name, her lips curving into a smile, but only for a moment. I keep my mouth shut, and run quickly towards her.

“I’ll take care of this,” I tell the receptionist, grabbing Stacy by the wrist. I pull her back towards the elevator, focusing my attention on her.

“Wh-Where…” Her stutter and her reddened eyes confirm my suspicion. “Where are you taking me?”

“Upstairs,” I say in a firm voice, struggling to keep my cool as I press the “penthouse” button on the panel behind her.

“No, no…” Stacy shakes her head slowly, her voice coming out somewhat slurred. “We can’t go there. We could wake up your buddies.”

“They’re out of town,” I bite out my words, glaring down at her. “What the fuck are you doing here? How did you find out where I’m staying?”

“I…” she pauses and raises her arm at my chest, “am here to talk to you,” she finishes her sentence, poking me in the center of my chest with her index finger. “You see, Mr. Savior, you didn’t let me…” she swallows hard, “say to you all the things I wanted to say. As per your other question, well…” she snorts in amusement. “You’ll be surprised how chatty the bartender of this place can be for fifty euro’s.”

“Whatever,” I huff in frustration, the elevator sliding open at the penthouse. I turn left and amble off down the corridor that leads to my suite, her wrist still in my hand. “Alright,” I unlock the door. “Start talking.”

Stepping inside, I turn to face her as she pushes the door shut.

“Oh, Dean…” Stacy sighs, her eyes flickering. “Big, strong, macho Dean…” she adds, lifting both of her arms up to my chest. “Wow, these are really good,” she praises, pressing her hands against my skin.

“I’m still waiting,” I complain, my gaze fixed with hers. This time though, I get no response. Stacy drops her arms as her eyelids slide shut. In a split second, she tumbles into my chest. I reach out and grab her by the hips, preventing her fall. “Great,” I cock my head in a spasm of frustration, understanding that I’m stuck with her. Whatever her reasons for paying me a visit in the middle of the night, I have to wait until the morning to find out what they are.

Stacy

I feel a cool breeze enter my open mouth. A huge headache is grinding into my temples. Forcing my heavy eyes open, I see a wide open balcony door and the vastness of the blue sea. Yet, this isn’t my hotel suite. The shutters are made out of aluminum, not wood. But, before panic sets in, I notice something else. A sweet scent is flowing through my nostrils: cherry and cream. I lower my gaze, only to discover a spoonful of ice-cream. The man holding the spoon up to my lips is none other than Dean.

“Rise and shine,” he says to me, his voice a little hoarser than usual. “Sugar is the best cure for a hangover. Eat up,” he urges, shoving the spoon into my mouth.

“Oh, my God,” I mumble, swallowing the delicious ice cream. “What happened last night?”

“Nothing much; you just showed up and started bitching at everybody,” Sarcasm is dripping from his tongue.

“Did we…?”

“Fuck?” Dean finishes my sentence. “No. I don’t do drunken girls. I hate the smell of alcohol. What got you so worked up last night? You were fine when I left you.”

“A friend of mine arrived from Miami,” I explain as he digs the spoon into the cup. “We started reminiscing about college, told a few stories. It was a lot of fun.”

“Speak for yourself,” he says, a touch of discomfort in his tone. “No receptionist woke you up at 3am, to tell you that someone wanted to see you. Anyway, eat the ice cream. I’m going to take a shower. You’d better have a really good explanation when I get back.”

I don’t dignify his words with a rebuttal. My head may be throbbing, but my heart is fluttering. I can’t believe this guy. I rejected him, I embarrassed him by making a scene last night, and instead of dumping me outside my hotel, he’s looking after me? Really?

I swipe the sheet away. I still have my red shorts and my black t-shirt on. He wasn’t lying when he said that he didn’t lay a hand on me. Searing lust engulfs my senses. I know I might regret this in the near future, but his actions have stripped me of the will to resist him. Who would have thought that, behind the façade of this brute, hides a caring man? I sure wouldn’t have. Besides, after moving out of this place, the chances of my seeing him or his friends again are minimal to say the least.

I scoot off the bed, catching the sound of the open faucet. The mere thought of seeing Dean naked is enough to make my mouth water. I pull my shirt up and over my head, tiptoeing along the corridor. I slide my shorts down and off my feet, before pushing the bathroom door open. Six feet, four inches and more than two hundred pounds of pure masculinity are standing across the room, his back turned to me. Drops of water are streaming down the glass of the shower, but even they can’t block my view. His hands are in his hair, cut muscles flexing as foam is dripping down the back of his neck. I move around the corner of the shower and stroll in, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Stacy!” he exclaims, turning to me, surprise written all over his face. “What are you…?”

“Hi,” I whisper, winking up at him. “Can I thank you for being so kind to me?”

Dean doesn’t speak. Reaching forward, he puts his hands on either hip and pulls me close. I tilt my head up, water starting to fall into my hair. Our lips lock in a gentle, passionate kiss, a moment before I wrap my arms around his neck. I can feel his cock wedged between our bodies, his smooth skin hot against mine. The fine hairs of his beard stubble are grazing my chin, but I won’t let this tiny detail deter me. And I couldn’t care less if Michael or Ray walked in on us. I’m a free woman, and right now, all I can think of is having the man who saved my life the other night and took care of me last night, instead of kicking me out. His long, slender fingers are cupping both of my ass cheeks at the same time as he snakes his tongue into my mouth. He trails his middle finger down my ass crack, his other hand kneading my flesh with vigor.

“Sweet, juicy bubble,” Dean grunts out while I slide my hands down his chest. His rock-hard pecs are twitching with every breath, his cock hardening. His finger travels further down, bypassing my entrance.

“Awww, yeah,” I whimper as his fingertip makes contact with my clit. Squeezing my ass, he slides his finger right back up, sending shivers of desire coursing through me. Still, this isn’t what I’m after, at least not yet. I may love the way he’s touching me so far, but I want to take control. Raking my nails over his chiseled abs, I bend my knees. I start kissing my way down his sculpted chest, breathing hard on his skin. I can feel the head of his cock between my breasts as I gently sink my teeth into his flesh. Dean’s entire body stiffens, his lustful groan encouraging me to continue. Keeping one hand on his stomach, I reach his groin. Delicious inches are brushing my cheek, just when I curl my fingers around the base of his shaft. I open my eyes and look up at him. He’s biting his lower lip, his gaze locked on my face, his length standing straight out from his body.

“Suck it,” he commands, placing either hand on my temples. I swipe my tongue over the crest, teasing him. I let his cock-head rest between my lips for a moment, but that’s all I can take. Squeezing the firm flesh of his stomach, I take him in a slow, moist slide. I taste the saltiness of his pre-cum, loving his long, loud moan. Dean’s thighs are beginning to tremble under my sensual touch. I let more than half of his length fill my mouth, and then I pull back, dragging my tongue along his cock.

“Fuck!” He groans, swallowing heavily, firming his grip on my head. A mixed sense of delight and satisfaction is pulsing through me. He’s at my mercy, savoring everything I do to him. I clench my thighs together, moisture gathering between my legs. For a moment, I consider letting go of his abs and touch myself. I want to show him just how much I’m enjoying this, and this is an ideal way. Still, the feel of his muscles beneath my skin is much too good. And I know for a fact that letting him masturbate me is going to be much, much better.

I start a steady, fast rhythm, twisting the base of his shaft. Dean tucks a few tendrils of my hair behind my ear. I swirl my tongue around the swollen head, feeling his eyes on me. I glide my hand down his body, using a firm suction. I bob down a few inches and pull back, teasing him more and more. He is slightly bucking his hips, eager for that heated suction. I lick the head with every withdrawal, his left hand cupping the top of my head, his right one stroking the back of my neck. His growls are getting louder, indicating that he is close. I bob back and forth, up and down, jerking his big, stiff cock. I’m tempted to finish him off right there. All I need to do is keep this up for a few more seconds. He has surrendered to me, his cock throbbing in my mouth, seeking sweet release. However, I decide to put an end to this. It’s better to leave that tension right where it is. That way, he’ll be more driven to satisfy me. I ease back, my fingers stopping just below the cock-head. A large drop of saliva mixed with his pre-cum is dangling from it.

Dean is still gasping, his deep-brown eyes dark with lust when I turn around. I put my hands down on the shower floor, and start a slow crawl towards the glass. Dropping to his knees, he follows right behind me.

“Look at that ass,” he grunts, licking his lips. “Look at that fucking ass.”

“Do you like it?” I tease him some more, looking up at him over my shoulder.

“Like it?” he retorts, a sexy smile spreading across his face. “Trust me, sugar. ‘Like’ doesn’t even begin to cut it.”

“Show me,” I encourage, his words putting a smug smile on my face. Keeping his silence, he bends towards me. He reaches and spreads both of my cheeks; the sensation of his strong hands on me makes me bite my bottom lip. His own lips land inside my ass crack. Moving them over to the left, he takes large mouthfuls of my flesh, sucking as much of it as he can into his wet mouth. The sound of his kisses fills the room, audible over my moans. He’s tantalizing me, pampering me with his caresses, preparing me for what’s about to follow. And if it’s anything like this, I’m sure I’m going to love it.

“Oh, you naughty boy,” I groan, squeezing my eyes shut as I flex my butt muscles. “This is so good. Keep it up.”

“Fuck, yeah…” he grunts, his mouth travelling over my ass cheeks. He nibbles across my buns, sending waves of sweet delight through my system. Holding onto my hips, Dean nibbles up and down as well, capturing my smooth flesh between his teeth. He nips, and nips right on across my twitching ass, then drops down an inch or two, and nibbles back across the other way. He squeezes both round mounds together, snaking his tongue out. Trailing that muscle from left to right, he closes in on my pussy. Upon reaching my entrance, he presses his fingertips into my skin.

“Oh, my God!” I moan, throwing my head back as the tip of his tongue parts my wet pussy lips. A good, hard slap has me moaning harder and leaves me longing for more. I reach up and grab the oval-shaped towel rack, my heart pounding like a drum. Running his tongue back up, he releases my right cheek. In a moment, I feel his thumb at my entrance and his mouth back on my skin. Slowly, he slides his finger into me, giving me what I’ve been wanting.

“Yeah, that’s it,” I hiss, shaking my hips. “Come on, give it to me.”

Once again, a deep grunt serves as his response. I can feel the entire length of his thumb stretching me out, but it seems that it’s not enough for him. He grabs and releases my cheek, planting more kisses all over my flesh. Second after second, he proves to me what he meant by “’like’ doesn’t even begin to cut it,” He’s got no intention of shifting his focus away from my ass. I love how driven he is, I love the passion that’s exploding out of him and onto me. He draws near my crack and when he does, he licks his way up and moves over to my other cheek, all the while pumping his thumb in and out of me.

“Best ass in the world, baby,” he says, his voice dripping with unbridled lust, my juices dripping all the way down to his knuckle.

“Dean!” I cry out, gripping the rack tighter, my entire body shuddering under his sensual touch. I push back on his finger, my moans echoing throughout the bathroom as waves of orgasmic delight spark through me. I’m still shaking when he withdraws, his lips moving up my body. Sitting up, he rests his seven, juicy inches along my crack, his hand massaging my skin.

“Mmmm…” He hums in pleasure, “glistening pussy lips; my favorite.”

“Fuck me,” I rasp out, once more looking up at him over my shoulder. “Just fuck me.”

Gripping his shaft, he averts his gaze from my pussy to look down into my eyes. In a quick move, he shoves his rock-hard cock into me, forcing a lustful moan from me. My inner walls clench around him as my gaze roams over his body. I snake my tongue out of my mouth, my eyes settled on his ripped stomach. I lick my upper lip, marveling at his abs, while he smooths his hands up my body. Sexy, gorgeous man… I could stare at him for hours. Thinking about him taking me from behind is a turn-on on its own. Actually having him inside of me is turning my lust into red heat that spreads through every pore of my being. Stopping his hands at my shoulders, he starts to rock into me, thin drops of water rolling down his forehead, his chest, and his arms.

“It’s so fucking tight,” Dean hisses, his abs flexing with every push. His wet groin is moistening my skin, his thrusts getting deeper and deeper by the second. I can feel each and every inch of his pulsing cock inside me, leading me to a paradise of sensation. My hand is slipping across the shower floor, I squint, but I don’t take my eyes off of him. I’m staring at my savior, the man who moved me by trying to cure my hangover. I can’t get enough of his body or his cock. He lets go of my shoulder, and gathers my hair in his hand, quickening his pace.

“Oooh, yeah!” I growl, squeezing my eyes shut as he pulls my hair. He’s keeping me submissive, plowing away into me. I bounce back on his throbbing cock, intensifying my sensation. He slaps my ass cheeks one at a time, making me scream with pure, unadulterated pleasure. His relentless pounding has me on the verge of my second orgasm. His pulsating shaft tells me how close he is to his own fulfillment. I toss my head back, crying out, as a dose of orgasmic thunder hits me like a bolt of lightning. Dean yanks his tool out of me, gripping it in his hand. Three jerks later, his juices spurt out of the tiny hole in the head, staining the shower floor. Breathing heavily, I turn around and lean back against the glass, a smile of joy gracing my lips.

“Unbelievable,” I gasp out, Dean sitting down on his knees in front of me.

“Which part?” He asks, his chest rising up and down.

“Everything,” I declare. “Last night, what you did for me this morning…” I pause; “Everything.”

“You passed out on me, Stacy,” he emphasizes, gazing deep down into my eyes. “You came to after a few minutes, but you passed out again. I had to monitor you. Besides, carrying you back to your hotel would be pretty embarrassing for both of us.”

“Thanks again,” I utter, my voice little more than a whisper. “I won’t forget it. But…” I get up from the floor, “this is where we say ‘goodbye.’ I’m leaving in a couple of hours.”

“You’re going back to the States?” His sexy voice rises up an octave.

“Yeah,” I chirp. I may be lying, but my hands are tied. Neither he nor his friends can know where I’m really going. I bend down over him and plant a kiss on the top of his head, feeling more satisfied than I’ve been in years. “So long, Dean; thanks for the memories.”

At that, I stride out of the shower. As I gather my clothes from the floor, I realize that in the next few moments, I’m going to walk out of the trio’s lives. Honestly? I’m a little sad to leave them all behind. They are all special in their own way, the sex with them rocked my world, but it is better this way. No strings attached means no one gets hurt. More importantly, I’m saving myself from the embarrassment of a lifetime.