Chapter 2
Davey
Eva was a force—one that dabbled best in dry humor and getting her friends to laugh at her straight reactions.
Lacking pretension, she was a blissful reprieve from my usual choice of woman.
When she sang a wild rendition of “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown” with the “brides-person”, Jace, I was hooked.
I didn’t ask about Jace’s backstory, but they seemed cool enough—if not very overwhelmed in a sea of woo girls.
I helped Eva herd the crowd onto a bus and back down to Streeterville.
There was a club in a restaurant basement that some girl Allison swore by.
By this point, I was alone. My very married buddies had lives and babies.
By eight, they turned into pumpkins. I had no idea what I had gotten myself into, but getting off the ride wasn’t in the cards.
It had been years since I’d been so attracted to anyone as this random woman.
We piled out of the party bus and provided our surly door greeter our IDs.
At thirty-nine, they had no reason to card me.
Unfortunately, everyone had to go through the ritual of struggling to pull our IDs out of our wallets.
I went last, hoping he wouldn’t out me. He gave me a sly smile, shook his head, and went back to his normal grimace as I passed.
“The music is awful. Should be awesome!” Eva sarcastically shouted at Jace.
I shook my head. “It’s standard fare.”
“Not in London and not where I go.”
“What are you listening to at clubs in London?”
“It’s more folk music.”
“Folk music?” I laughed until she glared, so I covered my ass. “That is… not what I expected from you.”
“I forgot which team you batted for momentarily,” Jace snickered. “And also, just the general age disparity. What’s it like dating a boomer?”
Eva slapped Jace on the arm. “Okay, young person!”
I didn’t quite know what that meant.
“I’m going to order drinks,” I said loudly. “What do you ladies want?”
“If they have whiskey, I prefer MacCallan—they have the 12, I bet. It’s decent. Not swill.”
I did a double take. She knew her scotch.
“I can manage that probably,” I said. “And I will get some champagne sent over for the others. And… water.”
By now, Callie was grinding on a dance floor railing.
“I’m too sick of this shit,” Jace muttered. “I’m coming to help.”
They followed me to the bar where we waited.
“So, why the hell are you here?” Jace asked.
“What?” I laughed. “You and Eva have your hands full as the only adults in the room.”
“Sad, I know. I’m only twenty-five,” Jace said. “These women are all over thirty—well, I guess Eva’s twenty-nine. Anyhow, you sidled in like hot daddy vibes and you’re clearly interested in Eva. Yet, you know nothing about her, and she’s not given you any indication she’s interested.”
“Truthfully, I would have no idea how to read interest with Eva,” I admitted.
Jace cackled. “Okay, fair.”
The bartender arrived, obliging us to two beers, a scotch, and two bottles of champagne.
“I know she doesn’t only date women,” Jace said. “But she just broke up with one she was basically married to—and as long as I’ve been able to drive, she’s only dated women.”
I cleared my throat nervously. “Eva?”
“Yes, straight-cis man.” Jace patted my back. “Eva is usually down with the ladies.”
“Oh, shit, well… anyhow, you all are fun.”
I wanted to crawl in a hole and die.
The bartender sent us back with a member of staff to bring the two $300 bottles of bubbly.
We carried the other drinks. It felt like a procession—perhaps a march to my social death.
I’d gotten so wound up just seeing Eva that I’d been silly all night with her.
I flirted with this woman. David Delphine did not just flirt!
He didn’t have to. Women threw themselves at him!
I sat in the only place left—next to Eva—and handed her the scotch.
“I got it,” I said.
She smiled and sipped. “Perfect. Thanks. Drinking champagne is not my idea of a good time.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, really. You are still drinking beer?”
“Yup. Is that a knock?”
“Nope. I like the lack of pretension in a man brave enough to both wear that ridiculous watch and chase around a hen party.”
“Ridiculous?”
“That watch is worth more than every car I’ve owned combined. You want people to notice it, don’t you? If you didn’t, you wouldn’t wear it.”
I examined my watch, supposing she was right. I never considered what it cost. I liked it. I bought it. To average people, that probably wasn’t the case.
“What are you doing here, Davey the Mysterious?”
“I found a beautiful woman overwhelmed with herding cats and decided to help in hopes I might even get a chance to kiss her by night’s end, but Jace said that wasn’t gonna happen.”
“What? Are they going to beat you up?” Eva giggled.
I suspected Jace was all of 120 pounds soaking wet.
“No, they said… you probably weren’t interested in people like me.”
“Oh...” Her eyes fell to her lap. “Uh… it’s not that I don’t date men. I am just more selective with men. Because… well, they talk a big game, but they’re all selfish.”
“Selfish?” I scoffed.
“Yes. None of them can go down on a woman properly. They always blame you when they cannot get you off. Don’t get me wrong, women can be shady, but straight men are by far the worst at gaslighting you about that.”
I arched my brow. “Then maybe you’ve been sleeping with the wrong men? I haven’t had many complaints.”
Eva bit her lip. “Are you really coming onto me right now?”
“Are you going to give me a chance or… what?”
“You think your dick will cure me, right?”
“No. I don’t mean that. I mean… I find you utterly intoxicating and I’ve been following you around like a lost puppy all night. I would do literally anything you asked if you let me try.”
Her eyes grew wide.
“That’s a new one.”
“What?”
“No mention of a dick cure. You have my attention, kind stranger.”
“My sister is bi. So, I’m aware you’ve probably heard that sort of thing a million times,” I explained.
Eva relaxed. “You, sir, are not what I expected.”
“So…”
Eva set her glass down, not dropping my gaze. “Tell me how bad you need me, then.”
“Really, really bad,” I said.
It killed me to plead. I did not beg. I did not chase, but this woman had me in a trance.
I couldn’t put my finger on why I wanted her so much—more than anyone in years.
I guessed it was her don’t-give-a-fuck-ness and rare smiles that lit up a room.
It was also her massive tits and sizable round ass.
I wanted to have all of her. It killed me not to.
Eva kissed me, her mouth hungry for whatever it is I might provide.
It was some sort of test, and I wasn’t about to fail this exam.
She gripped my shirt rough, pulling me closer in a very sexy, authoritative way.
I’d never been with a woman so demanding and, yet, I wanted so much more than this.
Her full lips and insistent tongue left my cock butting uncomfortably against my pants. Fuck, she was hot!
Eva pulled away sternly. “We should get away for a minute.”
Eva
I never imagined myself at almost thirty pressed up against a men’s room stall making out with a wealthy man too old for me. But as he played the sub in this moment, I gave over. I was horny, desperate for attention, and intrigued by his devotion to getting me off.
Davey kissed me deeply, plowing me into the stall divider. I moaned as his fingers made their way up my dress to my panties. It was what he said and how he looked that set me ablaze.
Pulling back, I let him ask, “What do you need, Eva? How can I serve you?”
Serve me? Damn! I was over the edge.
“Get me off. Use your hand to show me you’re worth my time.”
I didn’t talk like this—not to anyone. I’d rarely been in control with my ex.
She’d liked to manage the situation as the dominant one.
Sometimes, I liked to lose myself in moments like this—to not have to do the work.
However, a man asking me how he could get me off was a novelty.
Maybe if cybersecurity didn’t work out, I could become a dominatrix?
Davey slid his finger over my clit, tormenting me.
I threw my head back, banging against the metal divider.
His eyes—trained on me—yearned for some sort of sign I liked this.
I kissed him again, desperate to keep going.
He read this as a green light. I greedily pressed his hand to my pussy with force. I needed this release.
“You want more?” He asked.
“I want you to get me off. You better fucking get me off,” I growled.
“Yes ma’am,” Davey said.
He freed my breast from my dress with one hand and adeptly ran his fingers over my nipple.
With his other, he brought me closer to release, thrusting two fingers inside, then three as I panted harder.
I expected a half-hearted attempt to find my G-spot, not this long-fingered adeptness.
With each slow move in, he slowly hit my G-spot, making my legs quake.
I shuddered. His palm and thumb slapped against my clit, adding to it.
It wasn’t that a man never made me cum. It was that a man never made me cum hard like I was about to.
It normally took ages to get me to this very point.
I moaned louder, gripping his arm tight.
I braced, my clit and G-spot now so swollen, I couldn’t fight it.
I felt a familiar fullness—one that usually took weeks for any partner—then came all over his hand.
My body shuddered, and I screamed. “Fuck! Yes! Oh, shit!”
I knew we were not in private and everyone around fucking hated us. I also knew that was the best orgasm I’d had in years. While a series of unfortunate events recently complicated my life, Davey reminded me I was still a sexual being for a hot minute.
“Did you just…” Davey stared at his hand. “Really?”
Is he actually angry right now?
“You’ve never made a woman squirt before?” I asked, annoyed.
“I have!” Davey protested, “but not like… this.”
“Are you angry—”
“No, I’m… I’m surprised. You are fucking wild, Eva.”
Someone banged the door.
“Calm the fuck down!” I shouted before gesturing to Davey, “Can you please hand me some toilet paper.”
“Oh, yeah. Fuck! Sorry.”
He was rattled. Had I just scarred this poor man with a healthy orgasm? Just when I was about to give up, he surprised me by almost lovingly working to mop up my wetness from between my legs. He wiped his hand and tossed it all.
“You good?” Davey asked.
“Great, thanks.”
Another person banged the door. I left first, annoyed. Davey followed. One man in line whooped at him like he was a fucking God. Meanwhile, I felt all-powerful knowing I’d gotten the better shake, torturing him without returning the favor. I rode high on the ownership of my orgasm.
“What are we going to do?” I asked as we approached the others.
Callie leaned on Jace’s shoulder, totally inebriated. The others were nowhere to be found. Jace shot me a look like really? I should have felt embarrassed, but why? Men celebrated Davey’s ability to make me scream. I’d made him do that—I’d been in utter control.
“The others are dancing,” Jace said. “This one needs to go back to the hotel and sleep it off.”
“Do you want to stay to herd cats?” I asked.
“I can,” Jace said.
I sensed they would rather stay with the annoying straight ladies than deal with Callie O’Malley puking.
“I can help,” Davey said.
For once, I was grateful for a man riding in to save me—not that I needed saving, of course.