Opposites attract for one incredible night that leads to so much more, in USA TODAY bestselling author Cara Lockwood’s latest sizzling DARE novel! Turquoise waters, white-sand beaches and starlit nights are the perfect setting for exquisite sensual pleasure...
Her best friend’s luxury wedding cruise is the perfect opportunity for a scorching-hot encounter. But Gabriela Cruz isn’t the one-night stand kind of girl—at least she didn’t used to be. Plus, she’s the maid of honor, and sleeping with the best man will only create drama.
Notorious bad boy Sebastian Lott was her high school crush and the hottest guy in school, and Gabriela was pretty sure he didn’t even know her name. But the successful lawyer is certainly noticing her now. She can’t help falling for his practiced charm and the mischievous gaze that promises exquisite pleasure...
One amazing night. Sebastian wasn’t known for sticking around longer than that—but Gabriela didn’t count on Sebastian having changed almost as much as she had. She also didn’t count on him wanting more...and more...and more. And she really didn’t count on falling for the one guy she should have avoided above all others!
Sexy. Passionate. Bold. Discover Harlequin DARE, a new line of fun, edgy and sexually explicit romances for the fearless female.
CARA LOCKWOOD is the USA TODAY bestselling author of more than eighteen books, including I Do, (But I Don’t), which was made into a Lifetime Original movie. She’s written the Bard Academy series for young adults, and has had her work translated into several languages around the world. Born and raised in Dallas, Cara now lives near Chicago, with her husband and their five children. Find out more about her at caralockwood.com, ‘friend’ her on Facebook, Facebook.com/authorcaralockwood, or follow her on Twitter, @caralockwood.
Hot Mistake
Cara Lockwood
ISBN: 978-1-474-08706-3
HOT MISTAKE
© 2019 Cara Lockwood
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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Version: 2020-03-02
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For my husband, P.J.
Thank you for being my real-life romantic hero.
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
About the Author
Title Page
Copyright
Note to Readers
Dedication
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
EPILOGUE
About the Publisher
THEY TUMBLED DOWN onto the plush cushions of the poolside lounger and she found herself on top of his hard, fit body. The shock of the impact jolted all her senses at once. The cruise ship’s pool was deserted, the silver moon high above their heads. No one was around. No one could see them. All her senses came alive then, rousing needs she’d long denied. Their bodies fit together perfectly, the thin layer of clothing between them not enough to contain the heat they generated. Everything about him screamed sex: the lopsided smile, the thick muscles across his chest on display through his thin T-shirt, the barely there hint of stubble on his chin. She glanced at his hazel eyes and the way he stared at her told her everything she needed to know: he wanted her. Her heart thudded in her chest as her brain struggled to realize what her body already understood: she wanted him, too.
This was the man she’d been warned about, the man with the reputation for breaking hearts. But none of that seemed to matter now. Nothing mattered but the feel of his body beneath hers.
He waited patiently for her to make the first move. Almost challenging her as he kept still, their lips nearly touching. All she had to do was dip down to taste him. She inhaled his scent: sandalwood and something muskier, something dangerous. She wanted that smell on her, she realized. She wanted him, period. An inner voice of warning pinged in her head. Don’t do this. It’s a mistake. He’s going to use you.
Not if I use him first, she told the voice.
Oh, she liked that idea. Play the player. Take what she needed...and she would. She’d denied herself for months. She’d been good for far, far too long. What had being tight-laced gotten her? Nothing. She needed this. She needed him. She was tired of being polite. What she wanted was a bad boy, someone who was off-limits, someone who wouldn’t play nice.
Her inner wild child roared to life. She’d been held down too long beneath the prim and proper, the straight and narrow path she’d struggled to walk. Tonight she wasn’t going to be a good girl. Tonight she was going to let the bad girl out. Her real self, finally. Wild, free, a woman who knew what she wanted and took it.
She dipped down and kissed him, pressing her lips against his, tasting the caramel-sweet sourness of bourbon. But she wanted more. So much more. Her tongue flicked out, meeting his in perfect unity, as if he anticipated her every move. Every nerve ending in her body stood on end, her blood buzzing in her veins, as she tasted him, drank him in. Her hand skipped down, running the length of his fit chest, finding him even harder, even more ready than she’d imagined.
She knew he’d had plenty of women. His reputation preceded him, after all. But she knew for a fact he’d never had a woman like her before. She reached for his fly and pressed her fingers against the length of him through the fabric and he groaned. Yes, that’s it, groan for me, her inner wild child thought. Get ready for the night of your life.
THE BRIDE-TO-BE SHRIEKED with laughter. One of her would-be bridesmaids accidentally dropped a margarita glass on the outer deck of the bar of the massive cruise ship. Gabriela Cruz inwardly cringed as she heard the glass shatter. Another one? She silently moaned. Seriously? She sprinted over, exchanging her glass of hardly touched wine for a dish towel. She worked to sop up the mess. Gabriela was already beginning to regret accepting the maid-of-honor gig from Lola, but how could she say no to the woman she’d known since preschool? Lola was her oldest and most loyal friend, and if she wanted to invite fifty of her closest friends and family on board the Royal Harmony for a three-day wedding extravaganza, then Gabriela could certainly babysit the bachelorette party on Deck Seven.
Felicia, the buxom blond bridesmaid who’d dropped the glass, was already on her way to the bar for another one, not bothering to help Gabriela. Figures. Felicia had been all about Felicia since high school and, Gabriela noted sourly, little had changed.
“Don’t worry about that,” Lola scolded Gabriela, gesturing for her to stand. Lola’s curly amber-colored hair was perfect—per usual. As was her outfit, a sweet, flower-printed short halter dress with platform sandals. She wore silver eyeshadow across her blue eyes, making them pop even more. Gabriela always thought Lola was like a Disney princess: hair and makeup always perfect. And she had a heart of gold.
Gabriela felt not-quite-as-adorably sexy in her sleeveless, festively printed, flowing long jumpsuit, the humid Atlantic air wrecking havoc on her long, dark waves. But then again, who was she trying to impress? These were her Miami friends. They thought she was the buttoned-up Gabriela of high school, the by-the-book, no-breaking-the-rules, no-alcohol-tolerance honors student. They had no idea about the Gabbie living in New York for the last five years and Gabriela wanted to keep it that way.
“Someone else will clean it up,” Veronica added. Of all the friends from high school, she was the most traditional. She’d married when she was twenty-four and had had two babies in four years, the last of which was only six months old. She was the mother of the group. Veronica gestured to a baby-faced busboy who was already on his way over with a mop. “See? What did I tell you? Gosh, I love cruise ships. Wish I had a staff at my house.”
“Come on,” Lola implored, grabbing Gabriela by the hand. “Have some fun, please?”
Lola caught Gabriela’s eye and grinned. This had been Lola’s harebrained idea: take her entire wedding party, and heck, her entire wedding, on board a four-day cruise to Mexico. She planned to have her bachelorette party, wedding, wedding reception and honeymoon all in one sweep. Lola deserved this happy-ever-after and Gabriela was going to do her best to give it to her.
She realized she’d lost her clipboard and glanced around the bar for it. The clipboard had all her notes for the party—the games she’d planned, the cruise-ship-sanctioned activities and, of course, the ever-important schedule. If it was one thing Gabriela hated, it was falling behind schedule. She grabbed the clipboard from a nearby table as Lola led her to the bar.
“We should calm things down a bit,” Gabriela suggested. “It’s only nine and...”
Her cautious words were drowned out by Felicia shouting, “Shots!” at the bar. Gabriela looked up to see a row of tequila shots—one for each bachelorette partygoer at the mahogany bar.
“Time for this mama to get her groove on,” Veronica joked and then headed to the bar.
“You coming?” Lola glanced at Gabriela, who hesitated. Lola shot Gabriela a sharp glance. “I know you don’t act like this in New York.”
“We’re not in New York,” Gabriela muttered. “And...you promised not to...”
“I’m not going to tell anybody what I know,” Lola said. “Not that they’d care. They might even like you more. And you know Veronica. She just had her second baby, so she’s looking to live vicariously.”
“Yeah,” Gabriela sighed as she looked at Felicia offering up her chest for a body shot for the tanned, hunky bartender. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Lola squeezed her hand. “If you want me to talk to Felicia, I will. I know she’s kind of crazy, but you know she’s been through a lot...what with her divorce...”
“Which was completely her fault.” What did she expect, sleeping with her brother-in-law?
“Yes, but...come on. We all make mistakes.” Lola gave her the wounded puppy dog look and Gabriela inwardly felt herself melting. Lola was the kindest, most generous, judgment-free friend, which was exactly why Gabriela loved her so much. It was also why she’d have to smile and put up with Felicia and her antics.
“True.” Even though Felicia seemed to make more than her share of them.
“Come on, have a shot with me,” Lola said, linking her arm through Gabriela’s and dragging her to the bar. “You’re more fun when you have tequila.”
“More dangerous, you mean,” Gabriela retorted, thinking about the last time Lola had come to visit her in New York and the trouble a few rounds of margaritas had gotten them into.
“Please?” Lola batted her thick, dark eyelashes and Gabriela knew she wouldn’t be able to tell her friend no. This was Lola’s weekend. She was marrying the man of her dreams in two days, and Gabriela’s job was to make sure everything about the cruise was perfect—even this bachelorette party.
“You know I’d do anything for you,” Gabriela said.
“Tequila!” cried Felicia and handed Lola a full-to-the-brim shot glass. Gabriela noticed Felicia didn’t bother handing her one, skipping right over her and giving one to Liv, her sister. Gabriela knew the snub was on purpose. She suspected Felicia had wanted to be the maid of honor and was put out a bit that Lola hadn’t picked her.
Gabriela helped herself to a shot and a slice of lime. Just ignore the toddler behavior, she told herself. Ignore Felicia. Do not, under any circumstances, scratch her eyes out. Not until this wedding is done, that is.
“Here’s to the bride!” cried Felicia, holding up her shot glass.
“To Lola!” the others chimed in and clinked their glasses. As Gabriela knocked hers back, the searing liquid burned down the back of her throat. She quickly quenched the fire by biting into the slice of lime. She felt the blanco tequila settle in her stomach, warming her. She was already starting to feel the tingle of a little buzz. With a little more tequila, even Felicia would be bearable.
“Now to important business,” Felicia declared, pulling down on the hem of her too-snug halter dress. “Lola, you’ve got your man meat all settled and Veronica...you’ve got yours...but the rest of us are single. We’ve got to decide dibs on groomsmen.”
“Is this really necessary?” Gabriela sighed.
“Of course it is,” Felicia snapped, annoyed. “We’ll avoid a lot of fights this way.” She gave a pointed look to Liv, her younger sister who was a lot like a mini Felicia, except with blue tinges to her blond hair.
“Well, you can have them all,” Veronica joked. “I’ve got one husband and that’s enough man to take care of for me. Lola, did I show you pictures of the she-shed he built for me? Seriously—a she-shed. From scratch.” Veronica pulled Lola to the side and began thumbing through the photos on her smartphone.
She-shed? Felicia mouthed then rolled her eyes.
“The groomsmen aren’t even here,” Gabriela pointed out. They were currently having their own stag party on Deck Ten, which was just fine by Gabriela. Handling the G Squad was enough trouble—and broken glasses.
“All the more reason to figure out who has dibs.” Felicia took a breath. “Not that you’d care about men.”
Gabriela’s phone dinged, more notifications from her Spark dating app. Sure, I don’t care about men. She almost wanted to laugh. How little you really know me.
“I want Marco’s younger brother,” Felicia declared.
Lola was so deep into Veronica’s slideshow about her she-shed that she was no longer paying attention. Ugh. Gabriela hated it when Lola wasn’t in the mix. Lola always calmed the Tyler sisters down in ways Gabriela never could.
“No way. I want him.” Liv’s lips curved down into a pout. Gabriela just stared at the two sisters, amazed. While she’d only had brothers, she couldn’t imagine why on earth two sisters would be plotting how to best divvy up the single guys on a cruise ship. Besides, how could they be thinking about hookups during Lola’s big wedding weekend? Then again, she knew the answer: the Tyler sisters thought about hookups all the time, so why would this weekend be any different? She was saddened yet not at all surprised that they’d grown so little since high school.
“What about Bill?” Felicia offered.
Gabriela still couldn’t believe they were talking about men like trading cards. This was what she didn’t miss about Miami.
“Bill is...okay,” Liv said.
“Bill is married,” Gabriela pointed out, not that it seemed to faze either Liv or Felicia. Gabriela felt like she’d dropped into the Harlot Twilight Zone.
“I’d rather have James,” Liv said, ignoring Gabriela altogether as she pushed the tray filled with empty shot glasses and signaled the bartender for another refill on her now-empty margarita.
“Or maybe we shouldn’t be planning hookups at all,” Gabriela offered, already feeling like she needed another shot of tequila to make it through the night.
“Says the woman who is allergic to fun.” Felicia rolled her eyes. “We all know you’re never hooking up with anyone, Gobstopper.” Gabriela cringed at the sound of her awful nickname from high school. She never knew how she had become Gobstopper, but the name had stuck. She hated it.
“You never do anything fun.”
Not true. Not that you need to know that.
“Come on, girls, let’s get along,” Lola pleaded just as the bartender brought a fresh round of margaritas and a new glass of malbec for Gabriela. Both Liv and Felicia instantly stopped. Gabriela inwardly sighed. She’d talked to Lola about them before, but Lola was loyal to a fault, and she had a habit of adopting strays. Once you were in her inner circle, she’d never kick you out. Her fierce loyalty inspired others, as well. Even though Gabriela didn’t like Felicia or Liv, she knew both women would take a bullet for Lola if asked. So be nice, Gabriela told herself. Don’t start anything. Don’t stoop to their level. Just let it go.
“Yeah, stop picking on her,” Veronica said, and Gabriela was happy for the defense. “We all know the lamest person here is me. I haven’t stayed up past ten o’clock in two years.”
“You have two kids under the age of four!” Lola cried.
“Exactly,” Veronica said. “And I’m literally nearly drunk from half a margarita and one shot.” She hiccupped as if for effect. Veronica stared at her new margarita. “Seriously, someone else should drink this or I will be asleep in, like, ten minutes.”
Felicia happily took it, double-fisting her drink. Gabriela frowned. Not a good idea. “Well, you know, ” Felicia added, a wicked smile crossing her face. “If I must, I’ll take Sebastian.”
Gabriela choked on her wine at the mention of Marco’s best friend and the infamous best man. Sebastian Lott was not a name she’d thought about in a long time. He’d been the hottest guy in high school, the one everybody’d had a crush on at some time or another, and also the man who’d left the most broken hearts in his wake. Sensitive, he wasn’t.
“No!” Gabriela said, gagging on her drink. “Are you insane?”
“Yeah, girl, don’t you remember summer after high school?” Liv looked as taken aback as Gabriela felt. She thought everybody knew the rules about Sebastian Lott. The man was toxic, pure and simple.
“Well, yes, I remember summer after high school. The man knew his way around a body, is all I’m saying, and that was then. What if he’s picked up new tricks since?” Felicia’s eyes glazed over at the thought as she greedily sipped at one of her margaritas.
“No. Absolutely not.” Gabriela shook her head. “It’s a bad idea.”
Felicia frowned at Gabriela. “You already spoiling my fun, Gobstopper?”
Felicia let out a sigh. “Do you think he still has that motorcycle?”
“He does, actually. A new one,” Lola said. “Saw him driving it down around South Beach the other week.”
“Okay, well, if he has the motorcycle...” Liv seemed to be suddenly okay with her sister dipping her toe back into the shark-infested Sebastian Lott waters.
“No, guys!” Gabriela needed to put her foot down. “From here on out, we need to think about Sebastian as Swipe Left.”
“Why?” Felicia grabbed her phone and pulled up Sebastian’s Instagram account. She swiped through picture after picture of a gorgeous man who seemed none too keen on wearing shirts. She stopped on one where he was astride his motorcycle, an amazing Miami sunset behind him, wearing a tight-fitting white tee and jeans that hugged his flat hips.
God, he still looked the same, Gabriela mused. Sex on a stick, that’s the only way to describe Sebastian Lott. Those smoldering eyes, that washboard stomach. Gabriela felt the little tickle at the back of her throat she used to feel in high school. She wasn’t immune to the man’s good looks. Not that Gabriela had ever told a living soul she was fond of the broad-shouldered football player with jet-black hair and hazel eyes. Scratch that, she’d only ever told one person. Some good it had done. Not that he’d ever noticed her. Sebastian would’ve never given her a second glance in high school. She’d been the awkward kid with glasses and braces, the one who’d opted to stay home from parties to study. No, definitely not hot enough, daring enough, for Sebastian Lott’s tastes.
“Oh...my.” Veronica leaned in to get a closer look.
“You cannot be serious!” Liv cried. “He’s Swipe Left!”
“He’s hot, though.” Felicia tucked a small bit of blond hair behind one ear.
“He knows it, too.” Liv rolled her eyes. “I’d rather not spend the evening talking about how great he is, thanks. Look at all those half-naked women hanging all over him in all those pictures.” She thumbed through them and Gabriela saw she was right. There was a new woman in each one. “Ugh... Gross.”
Gabriela nodded. She needed to talk some sense into Felicia. “You can’t do this. Say you hook up with him and say he says something that upsets you. Or, ignores you for the rest of the trip.”
“He does tend to do that,” Liv said. “He is Mr. One and...Done.”
“We can’t let him and his man-drama ruin Lola’s big day.” Gabriela glanced at her friend, who stared at her drink.
“Sebastian’s not that bad,” Lola offered, ever the optimist. “He’d be nice. He’s...matured. He’s actually pretty nice now, if you spend more time with him.” Also, she was going to be Team Sebastian because he was the reason she’d met her groom, Marco. The two worked together at the same law firm, and Sebastian had introduced them at a bar on South Beach. According to Lola, it had been love at first sight.
“You’re biased, Lola,” Liv said. “Sebastian might be older, but you can’t convince me a leopard can change its spots.”
Felicia seemed to consider this. “But it’s not like I want a relationship,” she said. “I just want to hit that.”
“Yeah, but why give him the satisfaction?” Gabriela offered. “Didn’t he ghost you summer after graduation? After you and he were finally going to get together...” Felicia and Sebastian had been heavily flirting with each other through all of high school, with Felicia doing most of the pursuing, if Gabriela remembered right. Then, after a particularly wild party the summer after graduation the two were rumored to have made out. But after that, Sebastian had ignored her.
“That was ten years ago.” Felicia’s voice was flat. It was clearly a sore subject even all these years later. So why did she want to go back to drink from that same well? Seemed like it had disaster written all over it, and Gabriela’s one job was to make sure the wedding went smoothly. Lola didn’t need some brewing drama between Felicia and Sebastian to worry about, either.
“Well, it does sound like maybe Sebastian’s a bad choice,” Veronica said. “And we want things to go smoothly for Lola.” She leaned in and gave Lola a one-armed hug.
“Yeah,” Liv agreed, nodding, her blue-tipped blond hair rippling. She’d dyed it blue for something blue in the wedding party.
“I guess so.” Felicia shrugged. “And I like James anyway.” She glanced sideways at her sister, but thankfully Liv didn’t rise to the bait.
“Okay, so then we all agree?” Gabriela felt a little bit of relief. She raised her glass. “To none of us going near Swipe Left tonight.”
They all raised their glasses and clinked them together, and Gabriela breathed a little sigh of relief. The last thing anybody needed was for someone to hook up with Swipe Left and then have the whole wedding party sidetracked with drama.
Lola took a sip of her quickly vanishing margarita. “Seriously, though, Sebastian isn’t the same jerk from high school. You should actually have a conversation with him. See what I mean.”
Gabriela scoffed. No way was she talking to Sebastian Lott. She’d long since gotten over her girl crush on the guy. No need to revisit those painful days when she’d be frozen by her locker and he’d come bounding up to his, three down from hers, with a caravan of hangers-on following his every move.
“Oh, lord. Is that a cheese plate the bartender just put out? I freaking love cheese,” Veronica exclaimed, glancing at the small snack nook near the end of the bar. “Lola, come on, honey, let’s go get fortified. Come with me, I can’t be the only one pigging out. Did I mention I love cruises? Seriously. Love them!”
“You know she’s getting married in two days,” Gabriela felt the need to point out. The last thing she was probably thinking about was consuming dairy fat.
“All the more reason for her to keep up her strength.” Veronica tugged Lola off her bar stool and the two snuck over to see about the cheese bar.
“I’ll be right back,” Lola promised, leaving Gabriela with her least favorite people at the bachelorette party. Gabriela would’ve headed over, as well, but Liv grabbed her arm.
“You’re right about Swipe Left,” she said. “Thanks for reminding us.”
Felicia even reluctantly nodded.
Gabriela felt perhaps a temporary truce might have been struck.
“Okay, I get it. I get it. No Swipe Left.” Felicia shrugged, adjusting her strapless bra. The top of a tattoo at her neckline became visible for the briefest of seconds and then disappeared behind the spandex fabric. Gabriela thought she saw the head of a running stick figure. Really, Felicia? She’d just started running 5Ks a few months ago and now she suddenly got herself tattooed?
“The worst part is that I heard he’s seriously hung,” Felicia said.
Gabriela seriously did not want to know this information. She really didn’t. Why were they still talking?
Felicia, however, could not read a room. “One girl told me she didn’t even know they came that big. Like an actual eggplant,” she whispered.
“Guess that’s where the emoji came from,” Liv said and barked a laugh.
“Do I really need to know this?” Gabriela protested.
“Yes, Liv, consider poor Gobstopper. You know she hates being explicit,” Felicia teased and the two sisters burst into laughter at Gabriela’s expense.
Gabriela was half tempted to confess a few of her exploits in New York. But she wouldn’t. Not to these gossips. She mentioned word one and then the whole ship would know about her sexual exploits.
“Ugh, all this talk about cock makes me want some,” Felicia declared, slamming her margarita glass on the bar as some of it sloshed over the rim.
Classy. Gabriela sipped at her malbec, wishing this night would come to an end.
“What are we going to do about this lame-ass party?” Liv moaned. “I’m bored.”
Lame? This party was not lame, and Gabriela had a clipboard to prove it. A clipboard full of activities. Granted, they’d only gotten through the shots part so far, but they were warming up to the rest, like Friend-ivia. Trivia all about the roots of Lola’s friendship with each bridesmaid. Gabriela had read about it online.
“We could play a trivia game. I made up one just for Lola,” Gabriela began, searching for her clipboard. She had all the questions mapped out and party prizes for bridesmaids who got the right answer.
“Trivia? No way.” Felicia frowned. Then she seemed to get inspired. “I know! Why don’t we go crash the bachelor party?”
Liv squealed in delight, clapping her hands together. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
Oh, no, no...no! Gabriela couldn’t think of a worse idea. For one, they were supposed to have separate parties, and she’d made sure through a detailed schedule on her clipboard that they’d all be headed to different bars at different times to avoid crossing paths. Now Felicia was going to ditch all her hard work!
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