21. Thea
21
Thea
L ust clouded my brain. It was the only explanation for why I sat here with a known fuckboy, my tits in his face. This wasn’t the first time I’d hit second base with a guy, but it had been a very long time, and I was seriously questioning my judgment.
The way he looked at me made me feel like a goddess. I wasn’t an idiot. Landon Rothmore had probably seen more pairs of tits in his lifetime than I’d had cups of coffee. No doubt he’d already rated mine against his last few conquests.
Did my breasts rate highly compared to the fake boobs I’d seen bouncing around campus? I’d heard some bitch called Polly boasting about her boob job only last week. She was very proud of her DDs, apparently.
Not that I was judging. If a girl needed a set of plastic tits to boost her self-confidence, then it was up to her. Personally, I was more than happy with my breasts. And from the way Landon’s cock bulged against the fly of his jeans, he was more than happy, too.
“I’m not your future wife,” I told him again. If my father had his way, I’d be marrying some old fart with a fuck-ton of useful mafia business connections. I definitely wouldn’t be trotting up the aisle with Landon Fucking Rothmore. “Your father would literally shit himself if we got married.”
“True,” Landon laughed, but his amusement soon faded. “I don’t give a fuck what my father thinks. You’re mine, baby girl.” Before I could protest once again, his mouth was on mine.
He kissed me like he wasn’t prepared to let me go. Ever. Kissing Landon wasn’t like kissing Kyril. When Kyril kissed me the night we buried the body on the moor, he’d taken what he wanted without asking.
Landon’s kiss was different. He teased me, testing my reaction as he pressed his tongue between my lips. When I moaned, he deepened the kiss and showed me exactly how good it would feel if he used his talented tongue somewhere else.
I pressed my body into him, needing more, wanting more. He squeezed my breast, rubbing my hard nipple between his finger and thumb. My body ached, desperate for release.
It dimly occurred to me that someone might see us. This was a glass room, after all. There could be people outside, watching from the gardens. Did I care? No.
Landon shifted, pulling me astride his thighs, letting me feel how hard he was. I rocked against his thick shaft of steel, using him for my own pleasure.
“That’s it, baby, take what you need,” he said in a low, husky voice. Then he pulled my bra cup down and sucked my nipple into his hot, wet mouth. The feel of his eager mouth on my breast, combined with the friction of his cock against my clit, pushed me over the edge.
I came with a muffled shriek, my body pulsing hard as waves of pleasure ripped through my core.
“Fuck, I’m about ready to make a mess in my pants,” he groaned as I came down from my high. Then we both heard Florrie calling from the doorway into the main house.
“Master Landon? Do you need any more refreshments?”
Landon cursed under his breath, shouting, “No, we’re good! Just showing Thea some of Mom’s plants!”
“I’ll pack some shortbread for you both, dearie. Come and collect it when you’re ready to leave.”
I jumped off his lap and adjusted my clothing, grimacing at how wet and uncomfortable my panties now were. Gross .
An embossed invitation sat on the table, taunting me when I returned to my room.
The Forsyth Family Cordially invites you and a guest to the Midsummer Night’s Masked Ball at Blackwood Manor on the evening of…
The invitation had been a surprise. It seemed my father was losing patience with my lack of progress infiltrating the Forsyth family’s inner circle and had taken matters into his own hands. He’d expect me to attend the ball and find an opportunity to take out Lucian. Since everyone would be drunk, it was actually a half-decent plan.
How Dad had swung an invitation to such an exclusive event was a mystery. As well as the invitation, the box I’d collected the other night also contained a lavishly decorated mask.
The date printed on the invitation told me the ball was in 10 days, the Saturday after next. According to a Google search, the house was somewhere down south. I had no fucking clue how I was supposed to get there. Via train, maybe? Or perhaps I could hire a car.
The thought of attending a ball attended by the rich and obnoxious almost gave me hives, but not going wasn’t an option. It was risky, though. If Cassian and his friends spotted me, they’d wonder why I was there, which would raise questions I had no way of answering.
No doubt my father had gone to extreme lengths to secure this invitation. Given how important Lucian Forsyth was, the event security would be off the scale. There was no way I’d get in without an invitation.
I lay back on my bed and pondered my options. Not only did I need transport, but I also needed something suitable to wear. I wouldn’t know where to begin when choosing a ball gown, but I knew someone who might.
Me: I need help ASAP.
Eden: Be there shortly.
Ten minutes later, there was a knock on my bedroom door. When I disengaged the lock, Eden tumbled in, her arms full of chocolate, snacks, and tequila.
“I wasn’t sure what the problem was, so I figured I’d cover all bases,” she said with a smirk. “You’re not sobbing your heart out, so I assume it’s not guy-related. If you’ve run out of feminine hygiene products, I can nip back to my room?”
“No, it’s none of those things.” I shut the door quickly before any of my nosy neighbors decided to listen in on our conversation.
Shit. Where did I begin? Telling her about the ball meant I had to trust she wouldn’t blab. If the event was a masked ball, it would be easy to conceal my identity. I could hopefully avoid them and do whatever my father needed me to do.
Unsure of what to say, I picked up a chocolate bar from the pile of goodies she’d dumped on my bed and scoffed it quickly while I organized my thoughts into some kind of order.
Eden pulled two paper cups from her bag and poured us both a drink.
“Here,” she said, handing me one. “In my experience, tequila solves most problems.” Then she paused and snatched the cup back. “Unless you’re pregnant.” Her eyes widened in alarm at the thought. “Fuck, Thea, has Landon Rothmore knocked you up? Please tell me it isn’t so. I hate to say this, sweetie, but that asshole has ‘deadbeat dad’ written all over him.”
“What? No!” Jesus Fucking Christ. “I’m not pregnant, dammit, so give me that cup back now before I stab you!”
“Oh, thank the Lord.” She downed her tequila in two gulps and refilled her cup. “You know I’d stand by you, right? If you were pregnant.” She guzzled the second cup of tequila and splashed some more into her cup. Inviting her over was starting to look like a terrible idea. At this rate, she’d be out of her skull and I’d be carrying her drunk ass back to her room, none the wiser about how to find a suitable ball gown for the stupid party.
“Eden,” I gritted out, trying to leash my temper. “For the last time, I’m not pregnant. To Landon, or anyone else, for that matter.”
Her gaze snapped up. “Anyone else? Who else are you banging on the regular?”
“NOBODY!” Jesus Fucking Christ on a fucking bicycle. If this conversation didn’t get back on track imminently, I’d need a second bottle of tequila to drown my sorrows.
Eden relaxed. “Great! I’m so happy for you. Pregnancy wrecked my cousin. She was a fucking basket case after she popped out little Liam. The wee shite was 11 pounds! Can you believe it? Poor cow.” She shuddered. “So, what’s the problem?”
Finally. “I need a ball gown, only I’ve never been to a ball before...”
“Ooh, a real-life Cinderella!” Eden bounced on the chair with excitement. “So spill, bestie. What ball, where, and when? Oh, and can I come too?”
Eden stared at me, speechless for what was likely the first time ever.
“You’ve scored an invitation to the most prestigious event on the social calendar bar none, and you don’t have a dress to wear. Does that cover it?”
I didn’t realize this was the party of the year, but whatever. “Yeah. No dress. Can you help?”
“I don’t get it. How did you get an invite?”
“My uncle on my mother’s side is a friend of the family,” I lied.
Eden brightened and nodded, like it made perfect sense. I wasn’t sure how likely it was my family were friends with the Forsyths, but whatever. She swallowed the rest of her third glass of tequila before shoving the bottle away with a sigh.
“I can’t drink anymore. I’ll need my wits about me if we’re shopping online. Have you seen the disasters that some poor bitches end up with when they shop on shitty Chinese sites?” She shuddered before swiping through her phone and showing me a social media post where some woman thought she’d bought a stylish prom dress and ended up with a sack.
“Pretty sure I’m going to need something couture, not Shein, Eden.”
Eden coughed discreetly. “Um, not to be a bitch or anything, but can you afford couture?” She scanned my leggings decorated with pink rabbits and then grimaced.
“Yes, my father can.” He’d given me a credit card for ‘expenses’.
Eden brightened immediately. “Excellent!” Then she frowned. “We can shop online, which is risky, or take a trip to Glasgow. Up to you?”
Neither option filled me with joy, but she had a point about online shopping. I didn’t relish the idea of paying a fortune for a ball gown that didn’t fit me. I needed to blend in, not stick out like a sore thumb.
“When are you free?”
“Tomorrow? We can take my car.” She scowled for a moment. “Some asshole dented the door while it’s been in the student garage, but it’s OK to drive.”
“Oh crap, really?” I passed her a chocolate bar in commiseration, but she shrugged.
“It’s fine. Declan said he’d sort it out at Christmas. He also promised to find out which coward caused the damage and failed to leave a note.”
I winced, but decided it wasn’t worth worrying about. I’d disabled the cameras down there and Eden didn’t know I’d cloned her car key, just in case I needed to borrow her wheels again at short notice.
“I’m sure it was an accident.”
“So tomorrow, yeah? I’ll meet you at breakfast and we can get straight off!”
“Can’t wait,” I lied.