Princess

Chapter 6: Can't Help Falling In Love With Cabo

Damon

When Bella decided she had tanned enough for her wedding–didn't realize there was a fucking barometer–it was nearly evening so we decided to regroup in an hour for dinner and drinks at a beachside restaurant with an open karaoke bar. It sounded like a miserable fucking time but with the way Robyn shrieked at the idea, you'd think George Clooney personally invited her to the Oscars. Christian immediately made reservations, pulling strings and name dropping in true Ryder fashion before the four men settled around the living room while the ladies went in to change and beat their faces, whatever the hell that entailed.

I felt pretty certain it wasn't the definition I was used to. All I knew for sure is that we would be late if my sister and Bella were involved.

"Alright, I know I'm going to get in a lot of trouble for this, but—"

"Not too late to stop yourself," Christian interjected.

"—the women on this trip have some phenomenal bodies. You guys are very luckly men," Dean said eloquently, plopping down on a leather recliner and taking a puff of his cigar. He was met with three angry glares and raised his hands in surrender. "Look, I can appreciate art."

"That's my sister you're talking about," I warned.

"And my sisters," Christian supplied.

"And my fiancée," Francis concluded.

Dean let out a soft chuckle. "The ratio is imbalanced. I need a woman."

"You need sex," Christian corrected.

"I'm sure you'll all find a willing participant tonight," Francis drawled.

"We'll see," Christian deadpanned, eyes on the phone in front of him.

"On stage singing karaoke? Not fucking likely," I groaned and Christian chuckled.

"What if she was a really good singer? Like one of those seductive mermaid creatures," Dean played.

"It'd be kind of hard to have sex with a mermaid, wouldn't it?" I tilted my head sideways, exhaling smoke while everyone laughed.

"So, you won't be hunting for an outlet tonight?" Christian raised a skeptical brow.

I gave him a wicked smile. "I don't need to. They come for me."

A voice I would recognize anywhere cut in with, "What does? STDs?"

Ariadne asked, strolling into the room in a blue and white floral dress. On the rare occasions she wore anything other than her scrubs or jeans and a T-shirt, it always occurred me that her thighs would make fabulous ear warmers. Her shoes clacked against the marble floor as she adjusted her earrings, spearing me with a deadly glare all throughout.

"You should get tested regularly, Damon. I'm happy to help you make the appointment." Her sickly-sweet voice didn't match the tone of the conversation.

I stared at her coolly, memories of her in a swimsuit sending heat straight to my groin. She had an unbelievable body and I was man enough to admit that I only entered the pool today to hide the unexpected hard-on I had from staring at her. My chest still burned at the thought of her hand on me.

"I'm clean as a whistle, Ryder."

"Setting aside the fact that whistles aren't actually physically clean, I sincerely doubt it." She arched an eyebrow, fidgeting with the other earring and pouting her lips in my direction. "You can never be too careful."

"You seem to care a lot about my sexual activity, princess. Any particular reason?"

"Insinuating something?" She snapped. I bit back the smile threatening to escape, knowing I was getting under her skin.