Chapter 20
EVERLEE – CLITERATI FOR THE WIN
The rest of the workday is a bust. I can’t get my thoughts off what happened after lunch and the threat?
No. Promise that Callum made. Tomorrow is the night I get my world rocked by four hotter than hell men.
I feel like I should jump on my smutty social media book groups and look for recs on fivesomes.
Those smutty fuckers always deliver. Give me a rec on monster love.
Boom. Boom. Boom. Need a rec on mermaid love, a three-headed Cyclops, a god, or a book where one character has tentacles and the other has feathers?
You’ll get twenty recommendations in less than five minutes.
They. Are. Fantastic!
They are my cliterati. An elite group of highly read females (and males) who can give you your true heart's desire. They’re like a Rolodex of sex. A Sexodex. A Rolosex. I’m getting too excited. Although my chair would argue I’ve been in this state all day.
Not wanting to waste any time, I grab my phone and flip through several groups, copying and pasting the same request.
Book Recs Needed: Fivesome. FMMMM. Quick reads, less than 250 pages. Must be spicy! Research needed stat!
Shit! What if I didn’t have all the F’s and M’s in the right spot? Placement is very important.
Before panic sets in, I notice I already have six notifications across the three different groups.
See.
Amazing.
My phone buzzes.
Lizzy: How was it after I left?
I start typing, then stop. Erase it, then start over. Erase it again. I don’t know what to tell her because I want to tell her everything and nothing.
My phone rings, and I laugh when I see it’s a video call.
Reluctantly, I press the green button and before I can get to my office door to close it, she yells, “You had sex with him again! At lunch?”
“Geez, Lizzy.” I prop my hand on my door and shake my head at my assistant, who I’m fairly certain heard every word. “No,” I say, for added measure, before shutting the door.
Slinking back to my desk, full of embarrassment, I prop the phone on the stand.
“You lie like a rug. Spill.”
“You know it’s a freakish gift you have.”
She smells the air. “I can smell sex on you a mile and a half away.”
“Weirdo.”
Sometimes it’s like talking to a teenager, but she keeps us young and keeps me laughing.
“Tea, girl.”
“Well, I just went over to talk to him. A friendly conversation.” About a sex contract for him and his buddies. “And I must have had a look in my eye or something. He told me to sit beside him. And then he started running his hand up my leg and found out I wasn’t wearing any panties.”
“You hussy.”
“The skirt…”
“Both are valid.”
“Anyway, when I say his eyes lit up, it was like fire. Pure, unadulterated lust. He nearly pushed me out of the seat and said we’re leaving. He pulls me into his car. Feral. Wild. It was erotic.”
She smacks her lips. “In the back of his car. Poor driver man. I hope he gets paid well.”
“It was amazing.”
“Told you… you needed the dicky dick up in you.”
“You were right.”
“I know.”
“I have to go, though. I’m at work.”
She mocks my words back to me. “Real quick. I meant to ask earlier. Are we still going dress shopping tonight?”
“We didn’t have plans to go shopping.”
“I know. But I figured if I phrased it that way, you couldn’t say no, because the guilt of forgetting a date with your BFF would be too much to handle.” She throws the back of her hand across her forehead and sighs dramatically.
“You’re too much.”
“But seriously. You’re going to a gala tomorrow night with McStudmuffin. You know your man is going to look fine as hell. He can wear the newspaper and…” she whimpers out. “You have nothing in your wardrobe close to the level he’s going to bring tomorrow.”
Eesh. Her words weigh on me for a moment before I come to terms with the fact she’s right, but part of me also wants to get something nice and sexy. Like a present wrapped up for the guys, delivered by Cupid himself.
“You know I’m right.”
“Yes. We can go.” I add quickly, “But it can’t be a late night. I have to get some work done because I’ve been absolutely useless today.” It’s a lie. I had to get home and read my smut to prepare for tomorrow night.
“What time do you want to meet?”
“I have a meeting at four, but I can leave after that. Hopefully forty-five after.”
“Or fifteen ‘til? You crack me up. I’ll do some research. Is it themed?”
“Likely. I don’t know.”
“Find out.”
“Love you, boo.”
“Ditto and text me back. You’re going to look fireeeee,” she sings as the call disconnects. A lot of energy, that one. Big coochie energy. That’s what she has.
Guilt creeps in as I stare at the now black screen on my phone.
She’s so happy for me because she thinks I’ve potentially found someone to fill the hole Dick left.
He always went by Rich, short for Richard, but times have changed and I’ve decided to go the other route. Obviously, the more mature route.
Taking another moment to push the negativity aside, I pop my head out of the office and give my assistant the name of my plus one and inquire about the dress code. Black tie. Simple. General.
When I get back to my desk, I quickly text Lizzy and Callum, then check my recs and am happy to see I have fifty notifications and a few repeated recs. Tonight is going to be a good night. Bottle of wine, my e-reader and some takeout sushi.
Resolved to get some amount of work done today, I flip my phone face down so it won’t tempt me anymore.
Finally.
It’s only seven after two. Not my best day, admittedly.
The next two hours breeze by as I knock out several reports, put together a bid for another client, answer twenty-seven emails and delete over sixty as I prepare for my meeting. Maybe I should have sex in the back of a car on my lunch break more often.
At forty-three after, I’m riding the elevator down.
Crushing it!
Lizzy is downstairs waiting for me with her car parked out front.
“I know this will be the first time in a while you’ve been in a car without having an orgasm, but let me remind you how us common unsexed folk have to live.
I’m also not opening your door for you.” She cackles, running around the front of her car.
“It’s so hard to find good help these days.”
“Don’t I know it?”
“So where to?” I ask, sliding in.
“There’s one shop I want to hit first. I’m fairly certain they’ll have what you need and we can be done.”
“Is it La Belle?”
“Oui.”
“Their dresses are so expensive.”
“But totally gorge!”
I can’t argue with that.
“Can’t you write it off as a work expense?”
A sound somewhere between a snort and a laugh tumbles out of my mouth. “No. I can’t. Are you mad?”
She shrugs. “A girl had to ask.”
We’re at La Belle, forty-five minutes later.
Traffic getting out of downtown was a nightmare, but we kept busy talking about her and Tony.
Lately, I feel like most of our conversations have been centered on me, and I want to share the love.
We talk about Lizzy’s infatuation with a Valentine’s Day proposal.
She said Tony was acting cagey, and they were going to a very nice restaurant, even though he wouldn’t tell her where.
Lizzy said she was only joking about the proposal since it’s only been a couple of months, even though he’s been dropping hints over the last week or so.
I told her I didn’t think it was a good idea, but she reassured me that if he did, she’d have a super long engagement, which we both know is a lie.
Her goal in life since middle school has been to find a man, settle down, get married, and have a dozen kids. I thought that was my goal too until Vixen happened. Now, I don’t know what I want.
“Welcome, ladies,” an older woman chimes when we walk in. She’s wearing a knitted green pencil skirt with a white top and a green chunky necklace. Her short silver hair is curled and rests just above her shoulders, and she smells like floral perfume.
“We had an appointment at five- thirty. Apologies for being a couple of minutes late. Traffic.”
“No worries at all. You’re the last appointment of the night, so there’s no need to rush.
” She laughs. “Well, we close at six thirty, so only rush enough for that. Champagne?” she asks at the same time a light brown-skinned male with a shaved head wearing some sort of block-pattern suit walks around the corner carrying a tray.
“Yes, please.”
We each take a glass.
The man sits the tray down, pulls down his jacket and holds out his hand. “I’m Andre. What can I help you with this evening?”
“My friend here needs a dazzling, drop-dead gorgeous dress for a gala tomorrow night.”
“My friend here loves spending other people’s money.” I shoot her a nasty side glance.
He nods, “Yes. We’ve had several people stopping in here over the last several months getting fitted,” he says, looking me up and down, causing me to retreat inside of my shell a bit.
“We don’t want any of those dresses. She needs to stand out,” Lizzy says, her hands flying away from her body like stars… or jazz hands.
“You have a nice figure, so we may get lucky with the sizing and won't have to do any alterations.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you have a color in mind?”
“She wants red.”
Andre looks at me, and I nod. “Sure, let’s start there.”
“Fire,” Lizzy whispers, this time with definite jazz hands.
We go to the red section of the store, and on the end of one aisle is a display of dresses that are absolutely stunning. It’s a red sequin dress with an ombre to black at the bottom, a daring neckline plunge, and a mermaid train.
Lizzy smacks my arm repeatedly. “Could you imagine?”
“It’s beautiful.”
“These just came in, so no one at your gala will be wearing this.”
Lizzy snatches my champagne. “Go try it on.”
Andre flips through, finding my size, and walks me to a dressing room.
“Let me know if you need help!” Lizzy shouts from outside the cloth curtain.
Nerves are pulsing through me as I look in the mirror.
The dress is stunning, and the girl looking back at me looks uncertain.
Can she pull off this dress, or will she look like a fish out of water?
Sighing, I step out of my clothes and slide the dress on, pulling the zipper up the side.
Taking a deep breath and thinking encouraging thoughts, I turn around and see myself.
Like me. The me I used to be before dickface screwed with my head.
She is beautiful and confident and damn.
She is wearing the hell out of this dress.
A tear prickles on the rim of my eye, but I quickly blink it away and stare at the ceiling for a second to regain control of my emotions.
The back is a low scoop, resting just above my hips, accentuating my back beautifully.
“What’s taking so long?” Lizzy whines.
Rolling my eyes, I shift my girls around in this dress and love the way they look. I could get those little sticky cup things and push them up a bit more, but I like this natural look and I think the guys will too. Plus, after the party, the cups may impede my sexual escapades.
Priorities.
“I’m coming out. I wanted to look at it first.”
When I pull the curtain back, Lizzy’s mouth drops.
“Fire!” she squeals. Thank God we’re the only customers in the store. If not, she would have started a panic.
Andre comes over to inspect the fitting. “Honey, you in this dress may just turn me straight.”
“It may turn me into a lesbian!” Lizzy adds.
“Stop.” I blush, looking in the mirror again, rubbing my hands down the dress. It’s stunning.
“She’ll take it!”
“Lizzy!”
“What? You know you want it. I know you want it. I’m just moving the process along so you can’t come up with some BS reason not to say yes to the dress.”
Andre grabs her arm. “Love you! Do you need a job here?”
They both look at me, waiting.
“Fine. We’ll take it.”
Andre’s brows rise in shock. “You have been my easiest fitting of the year.” He chuckles. “But if you know, you know, and honey, you should know. Whoever you’re going with tomorrow night better appreciate you because you are completely gorge.”
We get in the car fifteen minutes later, and Lizzy turns her full body and grabs my arm with a smile plastered across her face. “I can’t believe you spent that much on a dress.”
“You brought me there!” I defend. “Plus, it was probably going to be one of the cheapest.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” she teases. “But seriously, you should have spent a mill on it. It looks amazeballs on you and he’s going to looosseee his mindddd. Maybe he’ll propose to you too, because why wouldn’t he?”
I laugh. “He’s not proposing to me. I don’t know if he’s the settling down kind. I think he’s just going to be fun for a while.”
“What? No. He’s smitten with you.”
“No. I think I’m just new.”
She rolls her eyes. “There is new, and then there is what you two have. I’m pretty sure my hairs stand on end when he comes around you.”
Laying the groundwork for this fun short-term thing appears to be a harder sell than I initially thought.
She has to be misreading things because it’s not just the two of us.
Sure, it is right now, but it also isn’t.
The others are there, and I want them too.
I want to experience all of them, and I will tomorrow night.
Ideas flit through my mind about all the things I’m going to experience.
I’d had a threesome once in college, but a fivesome.
A wave of excitement travels from my chest, past my stomach, to my clit, which is now throbbing.
Divert! Divert! Divert! I yell at myself like a submarine blast echoing through the tight metal chambers. Tonight is going to be research and planning, and tomorrow I’ll implement said plan into action.
Bring on the magic sticks! Nope. Beef whistles? Crevice crawlers? One-eyed yogurt slingers? I cringe. I tried to channel my inner Lizzy, but it’s clearly a her thing and not a me thing.
She drops me in front of my apartment building, giving me a quick hug and a hopeful smile.
I grab my bag and the dress, throw them over my arm and hike up the stairs.
There’s not a great spot in my apartment to hang my dress, so I find a place in the living room that’s tucked out of the way.
Excited to see what the night has in store for me, I race into my bedroom, kick my shoes off, slip into my jam jams, grab my e-reader and wait for my sushi to be delivered.