Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
H er taste lingered on my tongue long after I left. Everything in me cried out to stay, to crawl into bed with her and wrap myself around her, to sink into that warm, wet heat that even now haunted my every thought.
I saw the question in her eyes as I stood there, entranced with the sight of her laying replete and sleepy in the wake of her orgasm. She didn’t voice it, though, and I wasn’t sure what I would have said if she did. Maybe I only saw what I wanted to see.
One month. Just friends.
The club lights blared ahead, and I could almost feel the beat of the music as it sang through the concrete walls in a carefully cultivated and effective illusion designed to mesmerize people and draw them in.
The lights, the sound, the promise of drowning out regret acted as a siren song for the lost and lonely .
Lost is exactly how I felt tonight. Unmoored and adrift in the mess of my life.
I pulled up to the valet and dropped my keys in the hands of the nearest uniformed kid with a prayer that he knew how to handle manual and wouldn’t fuck up the transmission.
I drove one of my favorite cars tonight, a 1968 Acapulco Blue Mustang, only beaten out for the top spot by the Bronco.
My grandpa bought this Mustang fresh off the line and obsessively cared for it ever since.
Saturday afternoons spent in the garage watching him tinker with it were some of my favorite memories.
It was the only time I saw him do manual labor.
When he finally let me drive it for the first time, the roar of the engine under me, the feel of the leather seats, the thrill of speed hooked me immediately. Driving this car erased every worry I had.
Except tonight.
Tonight, it was little more than transportation. No amount of time behind the wheel cleared my head.
That was where the Purple Haze came in. A buddy from school owned the club, and it always delivered on wasted time and blurry nights.
The bouncer, Jack, let me pass without waiting, much to the outrage of several men in the line that wrapped around the building and reeked of cologne. I slipped him a generous tip. His wife was expecting, and I knew they could use the help.
The door closed behind me, cutting off the indignant cries of men denied entry. I would have felt bad if not for the slurs that he threw right as the door closed. I knew I had everything handed to me. I hadn’t earned anything.
Well, except that Navy Cross that sits in the velvet box on my dresser at home, but the cars, the suits, the penthouse, all of it was given to me. I hated it. Usually, I hated myself for it all, too. Tonight was no exception.
I licked my lips, the taste of Lily greeting my tongue. Her moans echoed in my ears. My scalp still stung where she gripped my hair. All of it was seared into me like a brand, one that labeled me as Lily’s.
Except, I fucking wasn’t hers, and she wasn’t mine, and I needed to erase the whole thing before it consumed me.
I wasn’t going to survive.
One month. Just friends.
Fuck .
I marched over to the bar, the crowd parting for me as I went and bought a bottle of their best. Women watched me everywhere I looked, their eyes dragging over my rumpled hair and fine clothing. I could see them calculating my worth and salivating at what they found. Lily wouldn’t?—
I took a swig straight from the bottle. I didn’t even register the taste, only the burn, hoping it would erase… everything. I spotted a woman at the end of the bar that looked promising and stalked toward her, watching as she traced my form, her pupils dilating in a way I knew well.
She was a tall redhead.
I told myself it meant nothing.
“Drink with me?” I asked as I held up the large bottle in my hands. She hesitated like she would say no, but I knew she wouldn’t. No one ever did. No one ever kicked me out, left me hanging hard and wanting. Except my fucking self.
I threw back another drink. My muscles relaxed, and the room took on that glow that promised a good night.
I turned on my most charming smile as I passed the bottle to her. People always responded well to the small quirk at the corner of my mouth, like it meant anything, like it was real.
She fell for it. Women always did. Except?—
It was almost too easy how they fell into my arms and practically begged me to love them.
Duke! Lily’s voice begged.
I drank again.
Love was the one thing in this world I couldn’t afford and would likely never truly get.
An image flashed before my eyes of Lily, laughing at something ridiculous I said, her curly red hair piled haphazardly on top of her head and a stain splashed across the bottom of her shirt, like she didn’t care what she looked like.
I took another drink. The burn washed away the laughter and light.
This stranger looked at me expectantly, and even though I missed it, I could guess what she wanted.
I passed the bottle to her and led her over to the VIP section.
A table waited for me, just like getting in here, too easy.
She poured more of the alcohol into my mouth, it dripped down my chin and stained my shirt.
I took it and set it aside before pulling her to the dance floor, and led us in a dance as indecent as it was freeing.
My heart rate thumped along with the bass, the beat flowing through me and connecting me to everyone in the room. The very air around us vibrated with the sound.
The woman in my arms ground along my body, and I played the part of the pole to her theatrics. Being a prop was fine. I played that role often enough.
Each beat and each drink washed away the stress, the obsession, the longing I had been feeling until I lost myself entirely.
Somewhere along the way, we picked up two more women that crawled all over me as we danced, now in the middle of the floor instead of the small section near our VIP seat.
It was exactly what I wanted, and yet, something felt off. The room spun, the lights blinded me, and the bass thumped too loud. I crossed that line between feeling good and having too much, except I couldn’t figure out how to fix it.
The redhead I picked up saved me from the pain of my surroundings.
“Want to go back to my place?” She pressed in close to me under the arm I had slung across the back of the couch.
I didn’t know when we had sat down, but the other women we were with seemed preoccupied with each other. Redhead ran her lips along my jaw while she tucked her hand into the unbuttoned part of my shirt.
“Yeah.” I reached for my phone and messaged my chauffeur. I could hardly keep up with the circles the room moved in. I certainly couldn’t drive.
Redhead gripped me tight as we stumbled to the door and outside into the sticky summer night air. Urine and bile permeated the air, replacing the earlier scent of cologne, a testament to the late hour, and my stomach turned at the stench.
A sleek black town car pulled up to our position, and Jenkins, the chauffeur, stepped out. His nephew, and protégé, Luke, exited the front seat, and I tossed him my keys so he could drive my Mustang home.
We spilled into the back seat of the town car, and I stretched my legs in the generous space. I’d almost forgotten I wasn’t alone when tonight’s distraction slid over to me and started kissing along my jaw, working open the buttons of my shirt with each kiss .
It was… okay. Certainly, not as thrilling as it should be—a distant part of my mind reminded me—but that distant part was still easy to ignore.
I reached into my pocket to dig out a condom. Might as well take our pleasure here so I could drop her at home and go find my bed.
Instead of a condom, my hands brushed along a piece of lace, and the whole reason I came out in the first place rushed back to me.
Lily.
“Stop.” The word echoed in the car before I realized I had said it.
“Wanna wait until we don’t have an audience?” She shot a look at my driver, and I could have taken the out she gave me. I could have, but didn’t.
“I think I’m just not as into it as I’d hoped,” I said apologetically.
She reared back like I’d slapped her and straightened out her dress. I couldn’t even remember mussing it up.
“Well,” she said angrily when she was decent again. “Just drop me here.”
“We can take you all the way home. Just give Jenkins your address.” I pointed vaguely to the front seat.
“No. Drop me here. I’ll order a ride.” She sounded more sober than before, hurt and disappointment lacing her voice.
I couldn’t muster enough emotion to care. She wasn’t what I wanted. She never had been.
My gut tightened at the thought of Lily, curled up in her bed, naked. I gripped her panties in my pocket to ground me.
I was too sober to deal with any of this.
“Fine.” I waved her way and turned to the window as Jenkins pulled into a well-lit diner in a busy part of town. I was glad someone thought about her safety. I wasn’t doing a good job of it.
Not-Lily, I still didn’t know her name, stumbled from the car without even waiting for Jenkins to open the door. Once she entered the diner, we drove away.
“Sir,” he said when we had pulled onto the main road again. I hated when he called me that, but no amount of reminding him changed his ways. “If I may, you seem unwell.”
“I’m drunk,” I said bluntly.
“Yes, sir.” He didn’t continue, though his tone didn’t exactly sound done.
“Spit it out,” I said. I couldn’t deal with a judgmental Jenkins or the way he called me ‘sir,’ like he hadn’t practically raised me and was the whole reason I wasn’t even more fucked up.
He had served himself, and spoke often about his time in it and how that shaped him. The last thing I wanted was to end up like my father, but Jenkins had stepped up and filled that role, and I didn’t mind ending up like him.
My frustration melted under the memory, and I tried to listen to what he had to say.
“I’ve seen you drunk plenty of times. I’ve seen you with plenty of women, as well. You’re usually more in control, more interested, and frankly, more respectful of the women you bring home.” I closed my eyes against his chastisement. He was right.
“Bad night,” I said.
I couldn’t face disappointment from him right now about the situation I found myself in. You’d think I would have grown out of the desire to impress him by now, but it was still there, under the surface, driving me even if I didn’t always realize it.
He didn’t respond to my curt answer, and I turned to watch the scenery fly by as we drove. On a night like tonight, I usually would have gone to my apartment in the city, but Jenkins bypassed it and drove me out to my grandfather’s estate. Soon to be my estate, I supposed.
The post drunk melancholy had fully set in and all I wanted now was a glass of water and a comfortable bed.
My thoughts drifted to Lily again as we drove. What the hell was I supposed to do about her? She was vexing and amazing. She tasted better than anyone I’d ever been with before. Her cries of passion were like the finest music.
I hardened just from the memory of her. Something that no amount of caresses from the woman at the bar achieved. Not even reminding myself that she was my best friend slowed my libido.
Shit .
What the hell was I supposed to do now?
I reached for the water that Jenkins kept stocked in the compartment that separated the seats. I found a packet of electrolytes tucked in next to the water and felt relief for the first time all night.
“Jenkins, you’re an angel,” I praised as I poured the electrolytes into the bottle of water and guzzled it.
Thirty is entirely too old for me to continue the party life. I didn’t know how my dad did it. I wasn’t going to end up like him, too wasted to know his ass from his face, and all too happy to blow through every penny he had.
My short nails dug into my palms from my clenched fist. He didn’t control me and my choices. His choices were his own. I repeated the mantra until my hand relaxed and I could down the rest of the water.
I needed to set this right, do the right thing. Whatever that was.