Pulse - Part Three (The Pulse Series) Read online

  PULSE

  Part Three

  By: Deborah Bladon

  Copyright

  First Original Edition, June 2014

  Copyright © 2014 by Deborah Bladon

  ISBN: 9780993721670

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and situations either are the product of the author's imagination or are used factiously.

  All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written consent from the author.

  Also by Deborah Bladon

  The Obsessed Series

  The Exposed Series

  For all of the readers. Without you, this wouldn’t be possible. Thank you.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Thank You

  Subscribe to Deborah’s Mailing List

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  "I can't wait to get out of these clothes." Her voice is sweet and high. She's probably gorgeous and already half naked. He's pouring himself a drink. I know he is. He drinks too much, he fucks too much, and he lies way too much.

  I glance back down at my phone to the text message Rebecca sent me ten minutes ago. She convinced the security guard to take her to the lobby when she told him she was feeling sick so I could have more time in the room. Who knew she had such mad acting skills? Who knew within minutes after she walked away Nathan would glide through the door with another of his fuck buddies? Now, here I am, stuck in the bedroom of his hotel suite while he gets ready to fuck someone else. Great, Jessica. What are you going to do now, hide under the bed? It could be an option if I wouldn't end up with a concussion from the mattress banging me in the head when he's ramming whoever the hell he brought in here with him.

  There's no time like the present. I take a deep breath, pick up his smartphone, adjust the hem of my dress and walk out the bedroom door.

  "What the fuck? Jessica?" It doesn't take him more than a second to see me. He's standing next to the bar with a drink in his hand, his suit coat already off. A suit on a Saturday night? Fucking lawyer.

  "Nate, what's wrong?" The brunette standing next to him grabs hold of his arm. At least all of her clothes are still on. Jeans and a t-shirt? Where did he meet this one? At the drugstore when he was picking up his monthly supply of five hundred condoms? Would that even be enough? I'd guess a thousand to be safe.

  "Jessica…" That's it. Nothing else comes out of his lying, cheating, bastard mouth than that.

  "Nate," I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of saying his name the way he likes it. I'll just follow the lead of the condom clerk. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" Very adult of you, Jessica. Asking to meet the next passenger on his never ending fuck train shows just how mature you really are.

  "I'm not his friend…I'm," she's stammering. Of course she is.

  I take a step towards them. "I'm not his friend either," I offer. "I'm just a random fuck too."

  "Shut up," he snaps. He's pissed. Well, good for him. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

  "What the fuck am I doing here?" Seems like a good place to start. "What about you? Last time I checked this isn't Boston."

  The brunette is pulling on his arm. "What's going on, Nate?" Her eyes are glued to his face but his gaze never breaks mine.

  "I'll tell you what's going on." I dangle his smartphone in the air. It hangs precariously between my index finger and thumb. "Nate has a few dozen calls he needs to return and a few hundred text messages he should read from all the women he's been fucking."

  "Shit." His breathing stalls as his eyes hone in on the phone. "How the hell did you get in here? Who let you in?"

  I cock a brow. Thank God I had that shot of tequila before I came up here. I can feel a tiny buzz racing through me, that and more anger than I've ever felt before. "Like that matters," I spit back. "Why the hell do you still have this room?" That was a stupid question. That beautiful brunette standing next to him is one of the many, many reasons he lied about giving up his suite.

  "We're not doing this right now." His tone is clipped and terse.

  "Are you talking to me or her?" I wave a finger in the air towards what's-her-name who pulls the half empty glass of bourbon from his hand and downs it in one shot. "Good call, girlfriend. You're going to need that if you're hitting the sheets with this one." I nod toward Nathan.

  He pulls the glass from her hand and slams it with a vacant thud onto the bar. "You have to go."

  "Gladly," I scoff. "Consider me gone."

  He's rigid as his icy blue eyes stare into me. "Not you. You're not going anywhere."

  "You're not serious?" I challenge. "I'm not hanging out here to watch the two of you go at it."

  His face is expressionless as he reaches in the pocket of his pants to pull out a set of keys. "Take these. Go to my apartment for the night."

  The brunette reaches for them casually as if it's second nature to her. She's been there. She's been inside his apartment just like I have. "What about…" her voice trails when there are three soft knocks on the door.

  It's Rebecca. She's come back looking for me. Nathan takes a heavy step towards the door but I'm faster. I bolt across the room and swing the door open wanting to leave this room, this man and this nightmare behind me.

  "Hey, you're Jessica, aren't you? I'm Travis." He's wearing a ball cap pulled low over his forehead. Curly blonde locks spill from the sides.

  "Travis," I repeat his name because I have no idea what else to say. Who the hell is Travis and why is he standing in the doorway of Nathan's hotel suite with two suitcases in his hands?

  "We're going to Nate's place." The brunette is calling from behind me. What kind of kinky threesome did I stumble on?

  "She looks exactly like that picture you showed me on your phone." Travis is a chatty one. Whose picture on whose phone?

  I twist around to look at Nathan. He's holding a phone in his hand. I'm holding his phone in my hand.

  "I took this picture of you when you were at the restaurant with your roommates." He holds up the phone and there's an image of me from the side talking to Bryce. I look like I'm eighteen-years-old. It was the day I saw him with his friend, Ivy.

  "But this is your phone." I dangle the phone in my hands.

  "No," he corrects me with a cock of his brow. "This is my phone."

  "We should go, babe." The brunette is inching towards the door teetering a bit as she scurries across the carpeted floor. It's obvious that bourbon has done her in for the night.

  "I'm Sandra, by the way." She holds her hand out diminutively. "I'm Nathan's sister."

  Chapter 2

  "You could have stopped me at some point."

  He takes a heavy swallow of the drink he just poured before he finally turns around. "What the fuck are you doing in this room?"

  "What?" I bark back. "Why don't you tell me why you still have this room?"

  He walks past me to sit down on the couch. "Give me the name of the person who let you in."
/>   "You're seriously worried about who let me in to your precious fuck pad?" This is ludicrous. It's so past fucked up that I can't wrap my brain around it.

  "Why are you dressed like that?" He tilts his chin at me. "You were downstairs in the club, weren't you?"

  My legs are shaking so hard I have to sit on the edge of the coffee table. "Don't change the subject, Nathan."

  His eyes blaze down my bare crossed legs. "Were you down there looking for someone to fuck? Did you sneak in here so you could use my room to screw someone else?"

  My stomach roils at the suggestion. "Don't do that. Don't."

  "Don't do what?" His tone is clipped and harsh. "I leave town and come back early to find you, dressed like that, and smelling like tequila. What am I supposed to think?"

  "You?" I bolt to my feet. "What are you supposed to think? What the fuck am I supposed to think about this?" I sweep my arm around the suite. "And this?" I toss the smartphone I found on the bed at him.

  He catches it deftly and rests it on his thigh. "What about it?"

  "What about it?" I'm yelling and don't give a shit if everyone on the floor hears it. "What about explaining what the fuck is going on?"

  "I paid for the room monthly." He runs his hand over his face. "It's not mine anymore after Tuesday."

  "You said you gave it up." I can feel the fury building within me. I'm so close to exploding.

  "I haven't fucked anyone here, Jessica." His tone is biting. "No one has been in that bed since you."

  I wonder in that instant how many women he fucked in this room before me. How many of those women on that phone stood in this exact spot waiting to get their turn. "What about the phone?"

  "I don't use this phone often." He qualifies, "It's a phone I used to use in Boston. I got a new number when I moved here last year."

  "What?"

  "I rarely check it anymore," he says it so flippantly, as if that's going to explain away all the names, numbers and illicit messages sitting on that phone.

  "My number is in that phone." I raise my voice even louder. "I'm just one of the Jessicas you have in there. How do you keep us all straight?"

  He closes his eyes briefly as if to temper what he wants to say. "You're overreacting. You need to sit down so I can explain."

  "I'm not sitting down." I can barely breathe. "You can't explain that." I reach for the phone but he snatches it up before I'm even near it.

  "I will explain it." He's so arrogant and smug. What an asshole.

  "Start with the thanks for yesterday text. That woman can't get enough of your tongue."

  He picks up the phone and runs his thumb across the screen before his eyes scan the messages. "That's Sarah. I haven't fucked her in more than a year."

  I shake my head at the illogical response. "Nathan, yesterday doesn't mean a year ago."

  "She was thanking me for helping her out of a legal bind." He shrugs his shoulders as if that's magically going to make her tongue comment disappear.

  "What the fuck does your tongue have to do with her legal issues?"

  "She wanted me to fuck her again. Actually, she wanted me to eat her out so she kept talking about my tongue but it hasn't gone anywhere near her in a long time." He smirks at his own words. He actually thinks this is funny.

  "You expect me to believe that?" My foot starts tapping. There's no way he's telling the truth. His head was probably buried between her thighs last night when he got to Boston.

  His jaw tightens. "It's the truth, Jessica."

  "Bullshit," I spit out.

  Cursing under his breath he runs his thumb over the screen of the phone again. He taps it lightly and the room fills with the sound of a phone ringing. He's calling someone, right in the middle of this.

  A woman's voice flows over the speakerphone. "Nathan? Is that you?"

  "It's me." His tone is unreadable. "How are you, Sarah?"

  What. The. Fuck.

  "Horny." She giggles. "Are you in town?"

  "No," he says gruffly. "How did that issue with your sister turn out?"

  "What?" He's caught her off guard. She's not going to be part of his rouse. He's about to get busted.

  "Sarah," he exhales harshly. "That advice I gave you last week, did you take it?"

  Silence fills the air and then she finally speaks again. "I got her to call your lawyer friend. It helped her a lot. Thanks again for arranging that for her."

  He cocks a brow at me. I don't respond. So what if he helped one of his fuck buddies with something? There's still that small issue of his tongue and her body.

  "When's the last time we fucked, Sarah?"

  She practically moans. "Do you want to do it now? I can come to wherever you are. Just tell me where."

  "When is the last time we fucked?" he repeats, stringing out every word.

  "The last time we fucked?" How many goddamn times do I need to be reminded that he fucked the woman on the other end of the phone? "I don't know." Her breathing stalls for a few seconds. "It was before Labor day last year, so I guess a little more than a year ago?"

  He ignores her response and stares straight at me.

  "Do you want to meet up or not?" I can hear the expectation in her voice.

  "No."

  "Maybe tomorrow then?" she asks quietly.

  "Never." He looks down at the screen. "Don't call my office again and forget this number."

  "What?"

  "Forget you ever knew me." He ends the call with a quick tap of his thumb. "Happy now?"

  Chapter 3

  "Enough." Why the hell was he doing this? He'd now called three more women and grilled each of them about the last time he'd had his dick in them. "I don't want to hear anymore."

  "Do you believe me that I'm not fucking anyone else?" The question is meant to challenge me. "If you don't, I'll call every woman on this phone. I have all night."

  "Why do you still have it?" I stand and cross my arms over my chest. I wish I hadn't worn such a low cut dress.

  He straightens so he's sitting upright, his arm casually thrown over the back of the couch, his legs crossed. He looks so at ease. "I told you I rarely look at it."

  "It's almost fully charged and it was turned on when I found it." I'm not backing down from this. I refuse to. He thinks that by calling a handful of the hundreds of women on that phone and asking when he last banged them, that he's off the hook. Not so fast, Mr. Moore.

  "So?"

  "So?" That's his retort and he calls himself a lawyer. "If you didn't care about any of those women and you weren't planning on sleeping with them, why keep the phone?"

  "Your number is in there." He means it as a compliment. It's a backhanded, disgusting and degrading reminder that I'm just another random fuck.

  I swear I almost physically recoil from the comment. "Why isn't my number in there?" I point to the other smartphone, the one that he showed me earlier that has my picture on it.

  "Jessica." The calm exterior that he's trying to maintain is quickly melting away. "You're taking this all wrong."

  "I'm taking this at face value." I try and stay composed. I have to. I can't fall into a driveling mess at his feet. I refuse to even though everything inside of me is breaking into pieces.

  "You're the one who broke into my room." The amusement skirting the statement pulls at my anger.

  I dart my hand towards him. "Give me the phone."

  "What?" He cradles it in his hand. "Why?"

  "Give me the goddamn phone, Nathan."

  He leans forward to offer it to me. "What are you going to do with it?" The question irks me even more.

  "Does it matter?" I step out of his reach, pulling my thumb across the screen.

  "No, it's…it's just that I," he stammers as he stares at my finger tapping.

  "Cat got your tongue, Nate?" I glance up from the phone. "Or maybe one of these women has a tongue you can't resist?"

  "No," he scoffs. "I told you I'm done with them."

  "You're done with me too." I tos
s the phone at him and it bounces against his chest. "I deleted my number."

  "What?" He's on his feet now, his voice husky and edging anger. "Why?"

  "Why?" I parrot back. Is he seriously asking me why I don't want anything to do with him anymore?

  "Jessica." He takes a step towards me and I teeter on my heels in an effort to get out of his reach. I grab for the bar, holding on to the edge to get my level footing back.

  "Leave me the fuck alone." Any barrier that I've had up until now is gone. It's crumbled beneath the slew of half-truths and realizations about how many women he's actually slept with. "I'm going home."

  "I'll take you." At any time before tonight, that would have been an offer I saw as sweet and endearing coming from him. I would have jumped at the chance to take him home into my bed.

  I shake my head. "No." It's all I can manage. I just have to get out of here.

  "You can't just leave," he pleads. "We can talk about this."

  I hold my hand up as he approaches, warning him off. "I'm done."

  Chapter 4

  I can't believe you just bailed on him." Rebecca flips her damp hair back as she pulls the hairbrush through it.

  My lips twist into a scowl. "What was I supposed to do?"

  "You think he's still screwing them all?" She almost visibly winces when she asks the question.

  I shrug my shoulders. "Don't know and don't care."

  "Oh, you care, Jess." She pulls herself up off my bed and throws the towel she had her hair wrapped in, into my laundry hamper.

  "I don't," I scoff. I can't, I want to say. When I held that phone in my hand and read all those messages I felt devastated. I can't explain to her that I was falling for him. Who the hell falls for a man they met in a club who fucks women in a room right above it? I'm too humiliated to admit I was developing feelings for Manhattan's biggest man whore. Correction. Boston and Manhattan's biggest man whore.

  "Liar." She leans back down on the bed. "So you're done with Fingers for good?"

  "Don't call him that," I whine. I don't need the constant reminder that Nathan fingered me to orgasm the first night I met him. My fate was sealed then. Why did I ever let Rebecca convince me to go back to that club the next night? "This is all your fault."