Chapter 19
Liam
He had to admit, the vibes were immaculate.
“How about her?” he asked his companion, a man already on his second drink and constantly checking his watch as if nine couldn’t come soon enough. “She looks like she’d be into being the filling of our sexy sandwich.”
“First of all,” Benson said, glancing in a beautiful woman’s direction, “don’t ever say sexy sandwich again. Unless you’re actively trying to keep me unaroused.”
“Why would I ever do that? You’re the most fun when you’re aroused.”
“Case in point.” Benson’s gaze lingered on the woman in a black mini-dress, her ass halfway hanging out of her skirt, but what an ass it was. “Absolutely. Yes. All night long.”
Liam winked at him while sipping his drink.
They had been there for forty-five minutes already, heading over from dinner at a Brazilian steakhouse they used to enjoy whenever they were in Manhattan at the same time.
And, truth be told, Liam hadn’t been back since the breakup.
Because memories. Things were a bit different now.
Like, here they were, in the lowest level of the Manhattan club, where dreams came true for one night.
“Her.” Benson jerked his head toward a tall redhead slinking through the crowd in a sparkly white crop top and a short, flirty skirt.
Benson was not deterred when the latest object of his arousal wrapped around a man she may or may not have known and began earnestly kissing him like they hadn’t seen each other in years. “I like her even more.”
Liam rolled his eyes. “Call me when she’s upside down on the couch.”
“Like you wouldn’t tap that.”
“I’m an easy man, Ben. I’ll tap like ninety percent of the women in this room.”
“And how many of the men?”
Liam needed another sip of his drink before answering that. “Fifty percent.”
“Damn. You’re easier than me.”
“Of course, we have to discuss if tapping means oral or going all the way.”
“It means whatever you want it to.”
Liam’s eyebrows arched at that thought. I’ve got a lot of thoughts right now.
Like how all of the women in the room were glowing and beautiful, most of them flirty enough to advertise that they were about to hit the Black & White party, if not start their own orgy in the bar area.
You know it’s nine when the making out starts.
The farther back one went, the more likely they were to see the kind of thing Benson liked to see.
Down, boy. There could be time for that later.
“Really is just like old times,” Benson said, his fingers drumming on the bartop. “Except we’d be stupid to lust after any woman but ours.”
“I think she would support our lusting, at least.”
“She’s turning into me.”
Liam had to think about that for a moment. “Indeed. I think she likes to watch.”
“And you don’t.”
“Only if it leads somewhere.”
“Only if you can join in.”
Liam could drink to that.
They spent the next few minutes scoping out the crowd and playing their little game. In the old days, this was foreplay – and a genuine hunt for a third in their little game. Someone we could take into one of the private rooms or back to our room. Preferably here.
“We would need to work on our introduction, though,” Liam mused. “We sent a few women screaming. And not in the fun way.”
“Eh, we almost always got lucky in the end.”
“Which end?”
Liam crushed ice between his teeth when he blatantly asked that, and Benson stared at him as if he spoke some other dialect.
“Dibs on the front end,” Liam then said.
“With which one?”
He picked the first woman to walk by them.
“Her, obviously.” The buxom brunette in a petite black bra and skirt that left nothing to the imagination, and her perfume was so strong that Liam would probably gag if he tried to kiss her.
But she had the perfect figure for grabbing, fondling, and sucking.
Benson must have agreed, because he subtly nodded and wagged a finger at his partner in crime.
“Front’s all yours. A woman like that is destined to have me from behind.”
“And what a view that would be.”
“For who?”
“For all three of us.”
Thank God they didn’t see anyone they recognized, be they former lovers or old friends, because Liam and Benson were on a mission that night.
For all of their bravado talking about kissing this woman or taking that one to a back room, they had a singular mission that night. One they had been planning for days.
Benson let out a low whistle. “Then there’s a girl like that.”
Liam saw who he meant. “Indeed.” The breath left his lungs. “Absolutely no contest.”
It was Eden. She flowed into the room like she owned it, looking not a bit out of place among all of the lingerie and high heels, but with such a cool grace that one would never doubt that Eden Hailstone belonged in the country’s premier sex club.
If she hadn’t been scouted to be a Butterfly before, she would definitely be tonight.
“Mother of God,” Benson muttered.
Eden was bedecked in a bright white negligee that hugged her hips and lifted her breasts toward heaven.
A hint of a pearl-white thong flashed beneath the short skirt, showing off more of her ass than covering it up.
I know those pumps. They had dangled from Eden’s hand as she returned from her big date with Benson on La Mariposa.
Of course, I had no idea that’s who she had been with that night.
But Liam took full advantage in his private cabana.
Now they were on her feet, making her legs look a mile long.
“She’s breakfast, lunch, and dinner,” Liam agreed. “The whole snack.”
A sheer white kimono hung off Eden’s shoulders as she slipped through the room, accepting compliments from women and hungry stares from their male dates.
More than one couple looked askance at her before biting their lips at each other.
When she fluffed her dark hair and stopped to fix her kimono by a couch full of guys out for a stag party?
It was a miracle she wasn’t immediately pulled into their horny orbit.
“We are going to do unspeakable things to her later.”
“Well, don’t get too excited.” Liam glanced at Benson’s lap. “Jesus. Too late.”
“I am only human.”
They both ducked behind a pair of guys taking up a table near them, just in case Eden looked in their direction. Liam caught sight of their favorite hostess and motioned her over.
“Her,” he told her, pointing to Eden as she was caught up in a conversation with two women who stopped to talk to her. “That’s the one we mentioned earlier. Make sure she has a very good time tonight.”
He whipped out a few more hundreds from his wallet and slipped them to the hostess, who kept her stoic facade as she shoved the bills into her bra. “Not a problem. What’s her name?”
Liam glanced at Benson before answering. “Brim.”