(A/N: As this is my first story/series, feedback/comments are always appreciated. Thanks for reading)
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I knew I had no space to be, but I was disappointed Landon had answered Tara's call. He sang his classic "Hey darling" into the phone and pointed at the bathroom, disappearing into it as he continued his conversation with his fiancee. Crazy to think that the entire lovey-dovey update was being delivered with my cum still running down his legs.
I pulled off the dirty sheets, debating whether or not to burn them or leave an apology note for the housekeeper with a hefty tip. I wiped myself off with some tissues on the nightstand and checked my phone. Fawn had texted, telling me not to return and that she'd hopefully run into me later, something about the bride accidentally cutting herself with a broken martini glass. I sent a sympathy text and made sure to open the application link for later.
Laughter rang from the bathroom. I couldn't make out the words, but they bothered me nonetheless. Guilt went from anger to concern to fear, a continuous vicious cycle that rang in my head for the entirety of Landon's call.
I mean, what was supposed to happen now? Even the fact that I had slept with an engaged man was creeping into the guilt vault, mind you I disliked Tara. Did she deserve something like this? Had I just ruined a marriage? What would happen with the wedding? We still had tonight and tomorrow - what would Landon say? He was wordless on the average day (although shockingly mouthy less than an hour ago), how would he even touch on the subject - and did I want to hear the answer?
More laughter from the bathroom. I rolled my eyes, decided to leave. I changed into my first set of clothes of the day and looked out our window. The men were still lounging by the pool, with Fawn and her cousin absent. I knew I wouldn't make good company with how complex I was feeling. On the bright side, I had spent a whole paycheck at this resort with lots of entertainment. Whatever delayed the inevitable.
With my wallet and my phone in my pockets, I headed to the casino. As the main attraction of the place, it was buzzing with life, with people dressed in sunglasses that cost my rent to senior citizens in sweatpants and sneakers.
Card games and bets were only fun to me with company, and even then half the time I relied on Landon's advice. I let out a breath, determined to make this distraction work by taking a seat at one of the slot machines. I inserted my money and began to play.
Number, number, number, bust. Again.
Number, number, number, bust. Again.
Number, number, number, five dollars. At least it was something.
"You gotta start somewhere, right?" an unfamiliar voice spoke beside me. I turned to the stranger, a man seemingly in his 40s with salt and pepper hair and two unopened beers in his hands. "Saw you across the place, can I offer you a drink?"
Based on how well he nailed business casual, I was surprised he had gone with beer instead of an old-fashioned or something. Maybe he detected my studio apartment-ness from afar.
Well, it'd be rude to decline a free drink. "Thanks," I said, turning in my chair to face him fully. He handed me a beer and I opened it carefully. "With those clothes, you don't really look the beer type."
He chuckled with amusement, taking the seat by the machine next to mine. "Really? Since you're so observant, what type do I look?"
I didn't hesitate. "You're probably here on some business meeting and you're closing some big deal for your company that you brought up from the ground or something. They probably paid for your stay and you're going back to your hundred-bedroom mansion."
To my dismay, my frustration from earlier sneaked into my tone. "You probably have a family with a bunch of annoying kids and a wife you knew you were gonna marry since you met her, except she doesn't know that on your little trips you bribe commoners like me to fuck you with a couple beers and your blazer."
The stranger was clearly displeased. "Look, I don't know what the hell happened to you this weekend, but there was no reason to be that much of a douchebag. I can leave if you want, but you didn't have to be an asshole."
"Well, am I wrong?" I asked nonchalantly, pulling down the lever on the machine once more.
"Very much so," he answered. "I'm here for marketing training, I thought you were handsome, and I just wanted to talk to you. But you have your own issues to work through and I don't feel like being your punching bag. Enjoy your weekend."
Before he could stand up, I reached for his sleeve. "Wait, no, stop. I'm sorry. Seriously, I am. You're right, I was just taking out my own stuff on you. I'm sorry," I apologized, trying to show how sincere I was. He was right - why the hell was I trying to blow off steam with this guy? The one guy I didn't have to either babysit or figure out this weekend and here I was, blowing him off.
"I'd like to get to know you," I assured. "I'm Heath."
The stranger bit the inside of his cheek in contemplation. He lingered long enough for me to render the situation hopeless, but surprised me by sitting back down. "Aaron."
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In thirty minutes, I was on my knees in the family bathroom with Aaron's cock in my mouth.
Considering the clientele, a family bathroom seemed redundant, but it came to our benefit as the nearest, fully private, and incredibly clean room at our disposal.
Aaron stood proudly before me, his pants and briefs scrunched at his feet. He kept his blazer and shirt on, his large hand guiding my head as it bobbed back and forth.
