Chapter 14 #2
Game on, Baby Girl.
And if he can play it cool, so can I.
I lift my glass and take a steadying sip, turn to my neighbour Ian, Parker’s dad, and give him an attentive smile.
He’s the total opposite of Ax. Warm brown skin, kind eyes, big smile, super friendly, and works in tech.
Talking to him is easy, and it’s what I’m good at.
Conversation. It’s what made me a great escort.
An even better club owner. An even more successful billionaire.
But I can’t tune Axel out. Every movement, every word, every… laugh?
The man is fucking laughing.
Since when has he found ladies that call him ‘broody’ funny?
‘It’s great being able to work from home most days,’ Ian is saying, ‘but there are days when Parker’s on one and it’s just hard. Charlene gets stressed. I get stressed. And it’s chaos. You know what I mean?’
I nod. Thanks to Lottie, I have an idea. And I can’t wait for the challenge. Though he’d probably think me mad if I admitted as much.
‘Sadie says they use the local soft play to burn the chaos out of them.’
Ian chuckles into his drink, but it’s Axel’s deep rumble I hear, and the titter that follows from the ladies hanging off his every word. I clench my jaw, tighten my crossed legs. The man is doing it on purp—
I freeze as his knee brushes mine beneath the table.
Was that… intentional?
The rest of him is still angled away, conversation flowing easily with his neighbours. Then it happens again. And this time, it stays. Warm. Pressing. Caressing.
My God, it’s just his knee and I’m—
His hand joins it and I almost leap. What the fuck?
His fingers skim along my thigh, teasing the edge of the slit. And I can’t breathe. He wouldn’t dare. Not here. Not at dinner. Not in front of—
He dips between my legs and I snap them together, locking him in as I choke on my champagne.
Yes. He absolutely would dare.
‘You okay?’ Ian frowns at me. ‘You need some water?’
I wave him off, patting my chest as I sit straighter – and Ax takes his chance to press higher. ‘No.’
Ian’s eyes flare.
Shit. ‘I mean— no.’ Smile. ‘Thank you. I’m good.’
Axel’s chuckling, and I know it’s not blondie making him laugh.
And he doesn’t stop. He nudges closer, unhurried, teasing me with the same slow, circling caress I treated him to on the jet ski.
And it feels too good. Too hot. My legs melt open under his quiet encouragement before I can talk myself out of it – and when he reaches the lace, everything in me clenches.
‘Charlene tells me you look after Lottie quite a bit?’ Ian says.
‘Mmhmm,’ is all I can manage.
‘It’s always more fun when you can hand them back, though, right?’ Ian laughs, taking a swig of his drink. ‘People used to say that to me all the time before I had kids, and I’d think how awful, but now I have my own, I…’
He keeps talking, but my pulse is roaring in my ears. Heat floods my breasts, my belly, my blood…
I nod and nod, taking my cues from his every pause, as Axel’s fingers deepen their caress, strumming my clit with merciless precision.
‘Are you sure you don’t want some water?’ Ian says, topping up my glass anyway. ‘You look a little warm.’
Axel chuckles again, and I trap his hand with my legs. Not funny. But the move only drives the fire deeper. My core spasms with the thrill – but there’s no way in hell I can come here. I just can’t.
…but isn’t this what I wanted?
For him to take me high, so high I get my fill this time…?
Then leave him hanging.
‘Ladies and gentlemen!’
Charlie and her team appear on deck, and I nearly bolt from my seat – likely would’ve if not for Axel’s grip tightening around my thigh, holding me in place.
‘To commence your meal this evening,’ she announces, gesturing to the four crew members approaching with two enormous silver bowls piled high with ice, ‘the chef has prepared freshly shucked oysters on the half-shell, served with a classic champagne mignonette.’
Oysters.
An aphrodisiac I absolutely do not need.
A quiet laugh slips out, and Axel catches it, his eyes sparking like he knows exactly where my thoughts just went. He slides his hand away as the bowls are set down to a chorus of ohs, ahs, and thank yous, and everything in me sighs – relief or regret, I honestly can’t tell.
But I’m not ready to let the contact go.
He’s reaching for his beer – the only one on the table – when I ease my foot out, brushing it along the inside of his calf. His hand stills. His knuckles flash white. And I smile as I meet his eye.
If you can give it, you can take it, buddy.
Touch-phobia, be damned.
And trust me, tonight, I’ll keep giving it right up until he’s exactly where I want him.
On his knees.
For me.
Axel
How many goddamn courses does a meal need?
I quit counting after the lobster.
All I want is her, and the damp, delicious lace between her thighs.
‘Are you not going to finish that?’
Daisy bats her lashes and gestures at the dessert-slash-art-project sitting in front of me.
I shove the plate her way. ‘Knock yourself out.’
‘Oh, thank you. I shouldn’t, but you know, when in Italy…’ She gives another of her giggles and man, they’re starting to grate.
And I know I’m being unfair. She’s lovely. Sweet. And she eats. All good things in my book. And any other day, in any other situation, I likely would’ve gone there. She’s everything Taylor ain’t.
Blonde. Doe-eyed. Safe.
She hums around her mouthful, glossy, pink lips pouting. ‘Are you sure you don’t want a taste?’
Of the food, or her? She leans in like she’s offering a two-for-one special…
‘It really is amazing,’ she purrs, holding out the spoon.
And I feel Taylor’s attention slide our way.
It’s a taunt I can’t resist, not after the way she’s been driving me half-mad all night. A stroke here, a look there, the slow drag of her tongue at the corner of her mouth when she knows she’s caught my gaze.
Then there’s the guy she’s been talking to for the entire dinner. Ian. If I weren’t already sitting on a knife’s edge, his easy chatter about fatherhood would’ve done it. I have no idea why it’s getting to me so much. Taylor wants a kid. I’ve agreed to give it to her, then step the hell away.
But I can’t stop listening. Can’t stop imagining. Can’t stop feeling this weird, twisted ache behind my ribs. That ain’t just about Tay; it’s about the kid. And I’ve had enough. Of that. Of this. I just want the meal done so I can get her alone and fuck her to oblivion.
‘Just one,’ I say, leaning towards the spoon, mouth opening, and Daisy’s lips part with mine, her doe eyes widening, pupils popping.
The dessert hits my tongue – rich chocolate, a hint of rum, it packs a punch – but the thing that lands is Tay’s hand slipping around my thigh. Holy fuck.
She squeezes as I swallow, my groan all for her.
‘You’re right,’ I say thickly, eyes on Daisy, body on Tay, ‘that’s delicious.’
Daisy beams. ‘Do you want some more?’
Do I want more?
Hell, yeah…
Taylor’s nails bite. A warning. A dare.
‘I wouldn’t want to deprive you.’
‘Things are always better shared,’ Daisy chirps.
‘Is that so?’
Tay’s fingers catch the head of my thickening cock, and my knee jumps, jerking the entire table. Fuck.
‘Easy,’ Daisy laughs.
Yeah. Easy, idiot.
‘You okay there, big boy?’ Daisy adds, and my dignity dies a thousand deaths.
Meanwhile, Taylor’s shoulders are shaking because she’s silently losing it at my expense. She leans in, voice a whisper no one else can hear, dark amusement dripping off each word. ‘Yeah, big boy… doing all right?’
I shoot her a look that promises payback. She raises a brow like she’s already priced it, wrapped it, and scheduled delivery.
Then Theo stands, tapping his glass.
Fantastic timing. Truly.
Everyone turns towards him.
Taylor’s hand doesn’t move.
Theo starts talking about gratitude and memories and the best week of their lives. All the sweet shit. And the table glows with wholesome vibes while my blood pumps with the very opposite.
I nudge her with my knee: back off.
She nudges back, absolutely unrepentant, and her hand shifts again, nails raking over my balls. My spine nearly leaves my body through the top of my skull, and Daisy shoots me a suspicious side-eye.
I stare straight at Theo like he’s the second coming and pin my trembling thighs to the seat. Nothing to see here.
He toasts the room.
He even toasts Sterling for gifting his home and his yacht as venues – something Sadie or his mother must’ve put him up to, considering the current climate.
Then he toasts us, the best man and maid of honour.
All eyes turn our way. For the love of—
I raise my glass on autopilot.
‘We love you guys,’ Taylor says. Still busy using me as her personal stress toy. Still pushing me to the brink. ‘You deserve all the good things.’
Theo grins down at his wife. ‘To all the good things.’
And I grin right along with them… like I’m not one wrong touch away from losing my fucking mind.
We cheer. Glasses clink. I manage Daisy first, then turn to Taylor.
She’s waiting, poised, calm, eyes glowing with challenge and victory, and I’m this close to going full caveman on her arse.
‘All the good things,’ she murmurs.
‘You better believe it.’
Because I’m coming for her, and she better bloody be ready.
The table erupts into that warm, nauseating wave of post-speech chatter: hugs, laughter, more clinking glasses. Goodnights start bouncing around, and her hand finally slips away.
She gets to her feet. Her perfume, that dress, her legs… all taunting me up close.
I try to keep my expression neutral, try to focus on whatever Daisy is saying to me now, but I can’t stop tracking Taylor. She moves through the group like nothing’s happening. Like she hasn’t just unravelled me and left every nerve exposed and aching.
Theo hugs her. Sadie pulls her in. Anna kisses her cheek. Sterling says something and she laughs.
She doesn’t look at me.
Not once.