Free Ice Steam (Loving All Wrong #3) by S. Ann Cole

didn’t like that.
    You hurt one, you hurt all …Saskia’s words came back to me.
    I could see all the signs of a disaster flickering in my periphery, all the little warnings to turn back and avoid a metal-bending collision. But obstinately fixing my eyes on an unattainable goal, I ignored the warnings, hit the accelerator, and sped straight ahead.
     

 
    N inety Miles’ villa was like a mini beach-side college campus—actually called ‘Ninety Miles Villa’.
    From a cozy looking hut at the front of the residence, a hulk-like security guard gave us access through the stately gates.
    Upon entering, I saw a small park area of lush green grass and trees, swing benches, hammocks, picnic tables and a clear water pond with big, colorful fish.
    Xavier drove around the complex to familiarize me with the place, pointing and informing me what building was what. There were four separate houses—aside from amenity buildings—on the complex.
    “We’re in this one,” Xavier told me. “Six beds. We call it Beach Rock ‘cause there are a ton giant rocks below the deck on the beach front. Some hollowed out like caves.”
    Beach Rock was sprawling and huge, the only house on the complex with a beach view. Not far from it was a gymnasium, which Xavier apprised me had everything from a swimming pool to a basketball court inside.
    Next was the second house, not as big as Beach Rock but still huge.
    “Guest Rest. Four beds. Currently unoccupied.”
    All the buildings were stark white with contemporary designs.
    Making a right turn, he showed me the third house, which was larger and more futuristic than the previous one. “Eye Spy. Five beds. Glasses aren’t one-way—hence the name. Ice Steam’s in this one.”
    A lump—no, a thick fist was in my throat, punching the air back down my windpipe, denying me the permission to breathe. I was…right outside the building Davian was in. So close. So, so close.
    My fingers curled into girly fists as I battled with the urge to bolt from the jeep and go pounding on the door, demanding he come back to San Francisco with me. Because I did this. I sent him off to be a rock star. I gave him to someone else.
    I looked at the building. Eye Spy was two stories, glass through and through with intermittent stark white columns. While blinds were drawn on all the windows to shut out prying eyes, one particular room on the second floor didn’t follow suit.
    The blinds were drawn open, the posterior of a nude woman pressed up against the glass, a tattoo of two ripe cherries visible on her bare ass, sheeny auburn spilling to the side as her male lover buried his face in her neck while he pounded her further and further up the glass, so rough I could almost hear the squeaking sound of her ass against the glass in my head.
    When Xavier caught me gaping at the scene, he chuckled and offered, “Jess and Davi. They’re the only ones who stab with the blinds open. Don’t care. Even when there are guests.”
    Xavier was looking up at the exhibitionists, chuckling, but I was withering. Inside. Like a flower cruelly planted in dry earth with no sun exposure, I was…dying. It felt as though the glass the couple were screwing on above had busted into huge, pointy shards and descended like falling arrows straight into my chest, to my heart, puncturing, slicing, shredding.
    Of the million ways I’d imagined seeing Davian again, this wasn’t one of them; seeing him screw another woman against a transparent glass.
    “Chino? You okay?” Xavier was watching me closely now. I was positive I looked pale and dehydrated. “This kinda thing bothers you?”
    “Not at all,” I answered in an embarrassingly high-pitched tone. “Rock stars will be rock stars, right?”
    His gaze was skeptical, but he let it slide. As he started to creep off from Eye Spy, I chanced another quick glance up the building. Jessica was now facing forward, fingers splayed on the glass, full breasts swaying back and forth as Jacob’s