Believing Bailey Read online

  Behind me, a shadow fell over the opened doorway into the hall. “Hey. Girl with the rainbow hair.”

  Oh my God, really?

  Bucket had followed me? What was wrong with this guy?

  Rolling my eyes and not wanting to deal with him anymore, I hurried deeper into the bathroom so I could jerk open the shower curtain and duck inside. I’d just climbed into the bathtub and concealed myself when I heard the bathroom door creak open wider.

  “If you’re really looking for Chance, I could take you to him and—oh! Shit, I thought she came in here. Damn, I must be drunker than I thought.”

  I bit my lip, forcing myself not to react, though now I kind of wanted to throw open the shower curtain and screech, “take me to him now!” But that might look a little too desperate. Plus, I didn’t want to explain why I’d been hiding in the bathtub in the first place. Embarrassing.

  There was a shuffling on the other side of the curtain, telling me he was leaving, thank God, and then I heard him in the outer room heading toward the exit. Just a few more seconds of hiding out here and I’d be able to escape this little space that was beginning to suffocate me with its noxious fumes of Axe body spray and the hint of dirty socks.

  Maybe I could “accidentally” bump into Beckett—and no longer Bucket, because if he could get me to my cowboy, he couldn’t be that bad—in the hall and give him another chance to help me find Chance. Yeah, that sounded good. He had poured beer all over me, so he owed me. I could—

  “Hey there, Beck. I thought that was you I saw come in here.”

  I frowned as a woman’s voice entered the outer room and the only exit from this bathroom. She sounded all purry and husky-voiced like a woman on the prowl, trying to catch herself a good time.

  The door from the hallway into the room closed with a click before the lock sounded.

  Oh no. This could not be happening.

  I’d just wanted to find my cowboy; how the hell had I gotten myself stuck in a stinking bathtub listening to some horny chick trying to hook up with a drunk idiot?

  I had the worst luck ever.

  Chapter 2

  BAILEY

  I peeked out the crack of the curtain and saw shadows through the opening of the bathroom door as the light in the outer room—which must be a bedroom, since I barely made out the corner of a bed—came on.

  “Hey, did you see a girl with rainbow-colored hair out there?” I heard Beckett ask the girl. “I’m talking red, orange, yellow green, a freaking rainbow.”

  “No,” the girl drew out, sounding amused. Then she asked, “Are you having hallucinations? Been taking the good drugs tonight, honey?”

  “Yeah, maybe. I mean, no. No drugs. Just too much beer. But I…” I could almost picture him scratching his head and gazing around the room, confused. “I swore she came in here.”

  “Sounds like maybe you need to sit down until you get your head cleared.” Bedsprings squeaked, like someone sitting on the mattress.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes closed. I did not like where this was going.

  “There,” the girl murmured. Seemed like she was running her fingers through his hair or something, some kind of soothing motion to calm him, because the next thing she said was, “Better?”

  Beckett let out a satisfied groan.

  My eyebrows sprang up into my hairline, and my curiosity got the better of me. I just had to know what the heck she was doing that he seemed to like so much. Biting my lip and wincing as if that would make me somehow quieter, I gently and slowly moved the shower curtain aside and then stepped out of the tub as easily as possible. Then I just as gingerly made my way to the door, where yes, I could see through the crack perfectly without being spotted.

  I’d been right on the first count. Beckett had sat on the bed, his feet were still flat on the floor and he was upright. Maybe the chick had nudged him down there, I have no idea, but she remained standing by his side where she was running her fingers through his hair, which was causing all his groaning and making him close his eyes and tip his head back. The dude kind of had a nice jawline when he tilted it like that.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight,” he confessed, the ache in his voice making me blink and see him as an actual person instead of a drunk frat boy. “I told myself I was going to stop drinking this much. I’m so fucked up.”

  “Aww, you poor thing,” the girl cooed, cupping his cheek. “I know exactly what’s wrong with you. We all heard how Jana broke up with you.”

  With a noncommittal sound, he shrugged and opened his eyes to look at her. “It was mutual,” he slurred as if he’d been trained to say that.

  “Of course it was, baby.” She was coddling him now and had stopped stroking his face so she could curl her fingers around his chin and force him to keep looking at her. “You want to know a secret?”

  His eyebrows crinkled before he admitted, “I don’t know.”

  I watched his face, and for some reason I got the feeling he didn’t really like this girl much. Not sure what exactly gave me that impression, but I was kind of sucked into the moment, reading how much she was trying to play him and get him into her clutches while he was subtly resisting. It was like watching a live soap opera, and I had to know what would happen next. I actually craved some popcorn and Skittles right about now to really enjoy the show.

  The still-nameless girl leaned down toward him as if she was going to kiss him but then she veered her mouth to his ear so she could whisper loud enough for me to hear her from across the room. “I always thought Jana was a bitch.”

  Beckett pulled back and frowned at her as if affronted for his ex-girlfriend’s sake. “I thought you two were friends.”

  She smiled cattily. “Tonight we’re not.”

  With a frown, I judged her. I judged her harshly. But what a terrible thing to say about a friend. I would never, ever say a thing like that about Tess or Paige. I wasn’t even sure what her words meant, they just sounded all kinds of wrong and back-stabberish to me.

  Even Beckett crinkled his eyebrows as if confused. “What does that mean?”

  See, even he was confused. You go, Beckett. Let her know how wrong she is for bashing her “friend.”

  But the chick only chuckled and let go of his chin so she could pat his cheek. “It means, tonight I’m Team Beckett.”

  Then she got down on her knees between his partially spread thighs and reached for the fly of his jeans.

  Holy shit!

  As if reading my mind, a similarly shocked Beckett reared back and gasped, “Holy shit.” Then he reached the girl’s shoulder. “Melody, what the hell are you… I’m way too drunk for this. I can’t—”

  “Shh.” She pulled his hand off her and smiled up at him. “Don’t worry about it, baby. I’m sober enough for the both of us. I’ll take care of everything. Just relax.”

  “Yeah, but—” He sucked in a startled breath and gripped the sheets on either side of him with both hands as his head fell back and he gritted his teeth. I strained to see what she’d just done, but her back and long black hair obstructed my view. Not that I really had to see to know.

  Melody had obviously gotten her hand into his pants, a fact confirmed with she gasped in awe. “Damn, I knew it. I knew you’d be big. Yes. So big.” She looked up at him. “Think I could fit all this bad boy in my mouth?”

  He shook his head no. I wasn’t sure if he was saying no, she couldn’t, or no, he didn’t want her to even try. But then he mumbled, “You shouldn’t. Jana—”

  “Is no longer your girlfriend,” Melody reminded him. “In fact, I saw her here with Davon tonight.”

  “Davon?” He frowned as if confused.

  “Mmm hmm,” Witch Melody seemed a little too pleased to report as she walked her fingers up Beckett’s thigh. “So there’s no reason at all for me not to do this.” Then she bent her head, and I couldn’t see, but I knew exactly what she did.

  Beckett’s mouth fell open as he gasped.


  I slapped my hand over my own mouth, unable to believe what I was watching, what I was stuck watching.

  Okay, maybe stuck was the wrong word. I could totally look away. Oh, dear Lord. Why wasn’t I looking away? I spun around because that was the right thing to do; I shouldn’t be watching this. But then I could still hear the quiet suction of Melody’s mouth and the rising of Beckett’s breathing. So I transferred my hands from my mouth to over my ears.

  Three seconds later, I felt like a total moron for standing in a bathroom with my hands over my ears. I slowly removed them, and the silence that followed unnerved me. Panic welled. What if they were done and heading to the bathroom to clean up now? I whirled around to check.

  Nope, Melody was still going at it.

  And Beckett continued to seem confused by the whole thing. He shook his head and gaped down at the top of Melody’s head. “Melody,” he tried again, grasping her shoulder. “This really isn’t—” But she did something to make him grunt away his protest and grip his own hair with his free hand. Then she grasped his other hand he’d had on her shoulder and physically pinned his fingers to the bed as her head made this up and down motioned away from and toward his lap.

  He whimpered out the last of his resistance before letting his torso fall backwards onto the bed and moaning, “What the fuck is happening?”

  I almost felt sorry for him. I mean, he was trying—failing spectacularly, but still trying—to tell this Melody idiot no, and she was totally ignoring him. It kind of made me want to pop out of the bathroom and pull her off him by the hair, muttering, “Are you deaf, honey? He doesn’t want this.”

  But then, he stopped complaining and was now just letting it happen, even lifting his hips toward her face and breathing harder, muttering a couple, “shits” and “Oh, Jesuses.”

  I turned away again, feeling hot and ashamed, only to turn back, equal parts curious and gawker-horrified. Only to turn away again. After going through this routine a few more times, practically spinning in a circle with my indecision over whether to keep watching or not, I decided I needed to know when they were finished in order to best plan my escape, so I watched.

  “God, you taste good.” Melody lifted her face to grin at him as if refreshed. After wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, she lifted her skirt up to her waist, shimmied a pair of thong panties over her hips until she was flashing her bare butt my way, and then kicking them off. Shocked by her audacity, I backed away from the crack, freshly stunned by what I was watching, only to step forward again, shamefully unable to stop looking.

  Melody climbed onto the mattress over Beckett. “It’s got me so wet, baby. I want to feel you come inside me.”

  My mouth fell open as she settled right over his lap and her skirt fell back down around her, thank God covering her bare bits from my peeping Tom eyes.

  Beckett started to sit up, slurring, “But I don’t—”

  “Shh.” Melody set her hand against his chest, pushing him right back down onto his back. “It’s okay. I have everything covered, even protection.”

  And she pulled a condom from her cleavage.

  Beckett seemed to panic, looking around the walls as if searching for something to help him, to save him. “Jesus, Melody. I don’t even know whose room this is.”

  She giggled and cooed, “Doesn’t that make it so much more exciting?” as she tore open the package with her teeth.

  The condom disappeared from my view as she obviously put it on him. I bit my lip, wondering what I should do. Should I help him? Stop this right here? Make her behave?

  My skin crackled with anxiety. I was already highly uncomfortable from being forced to stay in here while something that private and intimate was going on right on the other side of the mostly open door, but something about Beckett’s reactions were telling me he didn’t want to have sex with her. My gut churned, not sure what I should do.

  But then it was too late. She lowered herself onto his lap, and they both groaned. He gripped her hip, his fingers digging into the cloth of her skirt.

  She moaned and began to move…fast. Like that ridiculous bouncing you see on movies. I turned away and pressed my hand to my mouth. Behind me, Melody cried, “Yes. Yes. Yes,” making me wrinkle my nose and grimace from the absurdity of it all. “I knew you’d feel this good. Oh God… Beck.”

  I rolled my eyes. But really? She sounded so freaking fake. She had to be putting on a stupid, lying show because, how could it possibly feel that—

  “Jesus…Christ,” Beckett bit out, making me turn back to look again, because his voice sounded too appealing for me to stay away. And yeah, despite what was happening, appealing was totally the right word to explain him. In the throes of pleasure, he was magnificent. Arching his neck back so I could see the straining muscles in his throat tighten like cords, he lifted his face with a rapture that seemed to coil through me as if I were experiencing it with him. Then he hissed, “It’s been too long since I did this. Fuck. Harder. Go rougher.”

  Melody changed her speed, not focusing so much on speed but the force with which she slammed down onto him, and I jerked away from the crack to stop watching, feeling like the dirty voyeur I was. My cheeks heated with shame and embarrassment. What was worse, my nipples hardened, which I totally blamed on my shirt and bra that Beck had spilled beer on and left cold and wet and not on the fact I was listening to sex sounds.

  I guess Beckett—the bucket head—didn’t want saving after all. The stupid boy. How dare he make me feel as if he’d needed me to do something for him?

  Humiliated because I’d actually wanted to stop her for him, I sent a sharp glare toward the crack in the door as Melody’s moaning became obnoxious. “Yes. There. Right there. Don’t stop. Oh, fuck, you really are as good as Jana said you were. Beck! if feels so fucking good.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and would’ve sniffed moodily if I hadn’t been worried it’d give my presence away.

  If I’d wanted to listen to this kind of nonsense, I would’ve just stayed home and eavesdropped on Tess or Paige. Though honestly, I’d never actually heard either of my roommates getting it on with their boyfriends. I bet they didn’t sound like a calf being slaughtered when they came, though, not like Melody did.

  She was really carrying on now. Whatever Beckett was doing right there, it was good. Real good. It made me ache a little in the center of my chest, and wish someone would touch me in the right spot and make me—

  But that was stupid. So stupid. Never in my life would I be resentful of a girl making those kind of awful noises. Except…

  Dammit. Sometimes I really hated my uber curious nature. I couldn’t help but return to the crack and peek out. I still couldn’t see details, both were in the same position as before, Beckett stretched out supine on his back with Melody sitting upright on his lap facing him. Though now, his hand was no longer clutching the sheets or his hair. It had disappeared between their bodies, somewhere around the vicinity where they were joined. I didn’t know where the hell he was touching her, but it was obviously hitting the right spot.

  Melody was such a lucky bitch. It was no fair.

  The one and only time I’d ever had sex, the guy had not touched me anywhere down there, except with his gross pecker. He hadn’t really touched me anywhere with his hands. He’d used them to brace himself above me until he’d rutted his way into a climax. And in return, I had laid there, turning my head aside and biting my lip against the pain, hoping it would end soon, which thankfully, it had.

  Beckett and Melody were not ending soon. And Melody didn’t seem to be hurting at all. In fact, the woman threw her head back and brayed out the worst sound of pleasure I’d ever heard a woman make in my life.

  Holy shit, but if that’s what happened to every girl when she orgasmed, maybe I shouldn’t be so bitter that I’d never had one. It had to be the ugliest, most mortifying thing I’d ever seen.

  Poor Beckett.

  Except he didn’t seem to mind. While Melo
dy went into heifer mode on top of him, braying and snorting, he seemed to grow more tense and hungry under her until, whoa…

  Now there was a magical-looking orgasm. When Beckett came, his entire face transformed into this thing of beauty as if he’d just been released from the worst torture and his soul had just been set free from eternal damnation. His lips parted and eyes widened. Maybe he was seeing God. I don’t know. But it was hot. And it made me feel strange and even more uncomfortable.

  I couldn’t believe I was watching this. It was, hell, I didn’t even know. But I felt slimy and gross and yet I was way too captivated to look away, because it was so spectacular.

  Before I realized what I was doing, I pulled my cell phone from my back pocket and turned it to mute before taking a picture. Then I frowned at what I’d done.

  Okay, something was seriously wrong with me. Without even checking the results, I stuffed the phone back into my pocket and shook my head, mortified I’d actually just done that.

  But for the briefest, most forbidden second, I’d wondered what it would’ve felt like if Beckett had been inside me while that had been happening to him, and I’d been jealous. Which was stupid. I was so stupid. And weird. I needed to get out of her before I combusted from all the strange stupid, weird emotions tripping through me.

  On the bed, Melody and Beckett finished. Melody collapsed on top of him, burying her face into the crook of his neck, murmuring something that sounded like praise. And suddenly, I remembered just how messy sex was, you know, down there. Their next stop would no doubt be the bathroom, to clean up. I didn’t want to be in here when that happened, and I wasn’t going back behind the shower curtain.

  I needed to escape. Now.

  Since this had to be the best opportunity while they were both still recovering, I held my breath and eased opened the door enough to wedge myself through. My heart pounded like a resounding kettle drum; I was so sure they’d hear it. But the couple on the bed didn’t seem to notice anything at all when I joined them in the room. So I began to tiptoe toward the door, watching them the entire time.