Off Limits
Authors: Delilah Wilde
Copyright © 2015 Delilah Wilde
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
DISCLAIMER
This story contains explicit language, sex, violence, and sexual situations that some might find offensive. This book is intended for adults 18+ years of age.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Blurb
Ruby
I've been screwed over by guys and now all I want is to have fun. My cousin's wedding is the perfect time to meet someone to distract me from it all. A one night stand never hurt anyone, right?
Nate is the rich, arrogant, tattooed bad boy of my nightmares. Hate at first sight is an understatement, but I can't help but imagine his body pressed against mine. I know I shouldn't let him have his way with me, but I can't help it.
Even if everyone else thinks it's wrong...
Nate
Sitting next to the sexy redhead at a wedding felt like hitting the jackpot. Taking her back to my hotel room was the bonus prize. Finding out we were step-cousins? Priceless.
Ruby thinks it's wrong. Maybe it is. I don't care.
All I know is I'm addicted to that body. I'll do whatever I can to have a second taste...
Table of Contents
Ruby
My Cousin Trisha's wedding was an event that I had been dreading from the moment I'd received the invitation a few months back. The two of us were the same age, born within a few hours of each other on the same day in August. Next month to be precise. As kids we had always been forced to play together, though our idea of play usually involved me cutting the hair off of Trisha's precious Barbie’s and her retaliating by punching me in the face. As teenagers we hadn't been much better.
Trisha was the preppy homecoming queen, cheerleader stereotype and I was the goth who wrote depressing poetry under the bleachers. We did our best to avoid each other back then and even though I had now long outgrown my goth phase, I still avoided Trisha when at all possible. Our relationship clearly hadn't improved much. I wasn't quite sure why she even invited me to her wedding, but then I realized. She wanted to rub her happiness in my face. Typical. When I took my seat at the reception next to the tattooed guy who thought it was appropriate to wear jeans to a wedding, I knew it was intentional. The worst part was that it was a five person table and the three other people were absent, so I didn't even have anyone else to talk to. Conversing with the tattooed bad boy was unavoidable.
“So where's your plus one?” he asked, his eyebrows raised at the empty seat beside me. I took a sip of my wine before answering.
“I don't think that's any of your business. My personal life is not something I feel like talking about with a stranger,” I said, trying to stop my voice from wobbling. It did, but only a little bit. He smirked at me and I wanted to punch him. Who the hell did he think he was? I hated people who asked awkward questions just to satisfy their mild curiosity. I decided that despite his good looks, that he was an asshole. Certainly not worth engaging with. To my surprise, he held out his hand for me to shake.
“I'm Nate Watson,” he said. I really wanted to let his hand just hang there until he withdrew it in shame but I wasn't feeling quite bitchy enough to refuse. I took his hand and shook it, enjoying the feel of his firm grip. He was strong. I liked that.
“I'm Ruby Heron,” the handshake lasted a few seconds to long before I withdrew as if I had touched a hot stove. The smirk didn't leave Nate's face.
“So now we're not strangers, huh?” he said, “Ruby's a great name, really pretty. And it really suits you, seeing as how red your cheeks are going.”
Before I could think of a clever retort we were interrupted. Trisha had arrived at our table, new husband in tow, ready to be smug and put me down. I hadn't been within ten feet of her all night but now that I saw her up close I had to stifle a giggle. Her dress was big and poofy, covered in crystals and her yellow blonde hair was piled up on top of her head in a bizarre up to. Her already impressive cleavage had been hiked up as high as it would go and covered in gold body glitter, the kind that nine-year-olds wear to birthday parties. She looked ridiculous, but even so, I felt a pang of jealousy in my chest. She looked bad, sure, but she looked happy.
“Ruby!” she exclaimed, and kissed me on both cheeks. “I am so happy you could make it!”
“Me too,” I lied, and Nate laughed as if he was reading my mind. I felt myself blushing even more but Trisha didn't seem to pick up on anything. She awkwardly introduced me to her husband, a handsome but generic looking guy with a nervous smile and eyes that didn't want to leave his new wife for more than a second at a time.
“And of course, you know Nate now,” said Trisha, gesturing at him. He raised his glass in a mock toast before noisily slurping down its contents in one gulp. The smile that was plastered on to Trisha's face only faltered for a second, “Nate is hilarious, Ruby. He tells such funny stories sometimes. Nate, have you told Ruby one of your stories?” Nate shook his head and thought for a moment, obviously searching for the perfect tale to bless my ears with.
“I got one! So this one time I was in Maui with these two chicks, just chilling in a hotel bar. Then they started making out and grabbing my dick and stuff, and the funniest thing happened...” Trisha gave an indignant snort to mark that she was changing the subject now, before fixing the smile back on her face once again.
“That's great! I'm sure it will really cheer Ruby up to hear about your adventures,” Trisha shot me a pitying look, “The poor thing's been going through a tough time lately, haven't you Rubes?”
No, please no. Nate was looking especially interested now. Even Trisha's husband, Peter or Patrick or whatever he was called perked up. For some reason, my misery seemed to make everyone else happy. So I'd had a few relationship problems. So what? Why did everyone have to treat me with pity? Poor Ruby the spinster, destined to be alone forever thanks to her shitty taste in guys. I hated it and I didn't want Nate to see me that way. I tried to defuse the situation by grinning at Trisha.
“Tough time? Don't be silly, Trisha!” I said, “I just got booked for a major project. This client from a very upscale publishing house wants me to illustrate their children’s picture book. It's gonna be the next best seller, by the sounds of things.”
It wasn't exactly a lie, but I crossed my fingers under the table just in case. I had been hired to work on a new children’s book and it would probably keep me from being kicked out of my apartment or running out of ramen noodles for the next few months, but drawing baby bunnies having adventures wasn't nearly as lucrative a genre as I presented it to be. Trisha shot me a pitying glance and it was obvious that she wasn't going to take the hint. Trisha didn't really do hints. The conversation topic only ever changed when she was ready for it to change. To my chagrin, she wasn't ready yet.
“No honey, I'm talking about your break-up,” she said, so loudly that people at the next table were looking over, “I still can't believe Jeff cheated on you. He seemed like such a good guy. Well, I guess all your boyfriends do...at first.”
Nate laughed again and I could feel myself fuming. It was hard enough getting over being betrayed that way as it was. Why did she have to bring it up in front of a perfect stranger and make me feel ten times worse? Thankfully, Trisha and her husband wandered off to the next table before I could slap her.
“So your boyfriend cheated? Bummer,” said Nate. I pulled out my cell phone, trying to pretend like I didn't give a shit. I was an entrepreneur after all. I should be taking important calls and replying to emails, not discussing my failed love life with some tattooed jerk who couldn't possibly understand. I bet that he had never been cheated on. Hell, he probably hadn't ever dated anyone exclusively. Guys like him rarely did. He probably floated through life, going from job to job, girl to girl. Happier than I would ever be.
“It's fine. I don't have time to date right now,” I said, tossing my hair in a way that I hopped looked sophisticated. “In fact, I have to respond to a few emails now. God, it's so annoying when clients won't take no for an answer.”
“Really?” he peered down at my phone, “Because you appear to be playing Candy Crush.”
I pulled the phone away from his line of vision and tossed it back into my handbag, acting as if I didn't care.
“You know, you're a really rude man,” I stood up and grabbed my bag, trying to ignore the way his eyes lingered on my body in my tight party dress, “And I don't have to talk to you if I don't want to.”
Nate shrugged and sat back in his chair, a bemused look on his face.
“No, I guess you don't.”
I marched over to the bar and didn't plan on looking back. I was never a big drinker but I figured I might as well start at the open bar that Trisha was paying for. The least I could do was ensure that she had a bill that was as big as her dress. It was a while before the bride and groom had their first dance but by the time they did I was tipsy from my four and a half glasses of wine. Every time I glanced back at the table Nate was looking my way. I refused to go back and sit next to him and stayed at the bar, allowing the middle aged bar tender to think he had a chance with me. Who knew, if I got drunk enough anyone could have a chance with me.
“Now, if we could all welcome to the floor, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor!” announced the DJ. God, Trisha Taylor. Alliteration was so tacky. It made her sound like a cheesy superhero or a porn actress. Plus, who takes their husband's name in the twenty first century? How archaic was that? Marriage itself was starting to seem sillier and sillier to me. I started to convince myself that I was much happier being single and independent. It had its perks, of course it did. I could make out with anyone I wanted and I didn't have to answer to anyone. When I made a decision the only person I had to think about was myself. Trisha was crazy to marry so young. Our brains probably weren't even fully developed yet. The chances of her marriage succeeding were slim to none. I told myself all of this and it made me feel better, just for a little while.
Then Trisha's husband guided her onto the floor and held her in his arms as their song started playing. It was a cheesy pop ballad by some bimbo that had been a huge hit last year and ever since had probably been the first dance of a hundred thousand couples, but in my drunken state it sounded kind of beautiful. Though Trisha herself looked tacky and neither of them could slow dance to save their lives, when they swayed together it was obvious that their love was real. A piece of her hair slipped out as they danced and Trisha's husband gently put it back into place, kissing the top of her head as she looked on adoringly. I had never seen Trisha look at anything or anyone with such tenderness in her eyes. She had had as many boyfriends as me over the years, maybe more, but none of them seemed to interest her very much. She generally kept them around so she would have a plus one for weddings and someone to pose with in her prom photos. Seeing her so in love now felt unreal. Suddenly, a tear streamed down my cheek. It was followed by a few more until the song ended and people were asked to join the couple on the dance floor. I wiped my tears on the back of my hand and turned around, ready to order another drink.
“Let me guess, another glass of this?” Nate was behind me, gesturing to my wine glass. He had taken off his blazer and rolled up his sleeves as well as unbuttoned his shirt. More of his tattoos were on show. It gave him a sexy, rugged look and made me wonder if he had any other body art underneath his clothes.
“No, no I've had enough. I'm sorry for being rude to you,” I found myself saying. More than anything, I needed someone to talk to right now. Nate smiled at me, the first genuine kind smile I had seen on his face all evening. It didn't matter that he had been rude before. He was what I needed.
“Wow, I wasn't expecting an apology! Well it's accepted of course,” he leaned on the bar and ordered himself a glass of whiskey, before glancing back up at me. “Why the tears? You don't seem like the type to be emotionally moved by shitty music?”
Shit, was I that obvious? I grabbed my pocket mirror from my handbag and saw that my eyes were pink and that my mascara had smudged just a little bit. I wiped it away while trying to maintain a cool demeanor.
“I'm not. I'm just drunk,” I said. Nate nodded knowingly.
“Ah. Me too, though for me being drunk usually involves doing some crazy wild shit, not crying into a glass of cheap wine listening to bubblegum pop,” he said. I allowed the small dig to slide as I really wanted him to stay next to me for as long as possible. Bitch mode was terminated. At least for now.
“Something crazy? Like what?” I asked. “Seriously, I want to know!”
“Eh, I usually can't remember. There was this one time I fell asleep at a club in Los Angles and woke up in Mexico,” he said.
I rolled my eyes.
“What, not exciting enough for you, princess?”
“Nah, you have to work harder than that to impress me,” I said, giggling, “The first time I got drunk in college I went skinny dipping.”
It had seemed like a completely wild and crazy thing to do, but I could tell by the way that Nate was looking at me that he wasn't very impressed either. Maybe he had done crazier things and he didn't want to tell me. Looking at him, I could tell that he had done plenty of wild things in his life. My own boring life so far probably couldn't compare. My ears weren't even pierced for Christ's sake. I didn't exactly live on the edge.
“Maybe we should do something crazy,” I said and Nate's face quickly became more interested.
“Maybe we should. Any ideas?”
Suddenly, the music changed from cheesy ballads to something more up-tempo and fun. I didn't wait for Nate to make a disparaging remark. Instead, I grabbed his hand.