Chapter 45 Alec
FORTY-FIVE
ALEC
All three of us watch in silence as Summer straddles Isla on a bar stool, holding her down as she paints her face.
Around us, the Dewdrop is busy with its usual Friday evening crowd.
The windows are fogged with condensation.
The jukebox is blaring, the fires are going, and every booth and table in the place is stuffed with villagers nursing pints.
And almost every eye in the place is on Summer.
“Her dress is getting shorter, right?” Fraser asks, his eyes fixed on her. “Or…or is it a mirage?”
“It’s shrinking,” Cameron growls. “Or she sat in something wet and now it’s sticking to her arse.”
I don’t respond, taking a deep breath through my nose.
Summer looks unreal tonight. The outfit she made is almost obscene, the white lace flirting over her soft thighs.
It’s more than just a short dress though.
Her lips are sparkly. Dangly earrings flicker around her face when she moves.
She’s put glitter all over her eyelids. She’s twinkling like a star. It’s hard to take your eyes off her.
Unsurprisingly, she’s attracted attention. There’s a table of teenage boys next to us, and they all gape every time Summer leans over Isla and bares a little more thigh. Fraser whistles to get their attention, then mimes cutting his throat. They all hastily look back into their glasses.
Aside from the locals ogling her, Summer’s also gathered a group of fans who are intently listening to her monologue as she demonstrates Isla’s makeup.
“You need to match the undertone,” Summer says very seriously.
“If you only match the overtones, the foundation will look right in some lights, and in others it’ll look like your head’s been photoshopped on.
Trust me. I’ve had the allegations. It was not fun. ”
Mrs Hussain, my year-four maths teacher, raises her hand. “I’ve always been told I’m a warm tone, but whenever I try that, I look orange,” she complains.
“No,” Summer announces, furious. “Whoever told you that is your mortal enemy! You’re a textbook cool-toned.
I can tell even in this light. I have some correction drops, hang on.
” She rummages around in her makeup bag until she finds a tiny bottle.
“Aha! Put two drops in your foundation, it’ll add some blue. ” She tosses it over.
“She’s amazing,” Fraser mumbles.
I have to agree. This is Summer in her element. She’s not pretending or trying. She’s happy and confident. It makes me want to drag her to bed and never let her out.
Summer knocks a mascara wand off the table and bends to pick it up, and Isla glares at me over her back. I feel a pang of guilt.
Aside from Cameron and Fraser, Isla was my closest friend growing up. We were both always in the top set at school, so we partnered for everything, and we stayed close after graduation. Until my dad died, I used to visit her at the pub at least once a week.
Today’s the first time I’ve seen her in over a year. I meant to come down to congratulate her after her engagement, but I was so caught up on Lochview I never made it. Judging by her face, she clearly isn’t happy about that.
Summer reappears, holding a mascara wand. “Here we are. Do you prefer black or brown, normally?”
“Dunno,” Isla says.
“Really? Do you not like makeup at all then?” Summer strokes mascara onto Isla’s lashes. “I’m not peer pressuring you, am I?”
Isla shrugs, trying to stay still. “I like makeup. I just never learned how to do it myself. It’s…embarrassing to try. I feel like I’m being a girl wrong, so I don’t bother.”
“You can’t be a girl wrong,” Summer says, then thinks.
“Actually, maybe you can only do it wrong. But you can’t do it right.
I’ve been called shallow and superficial my whole life for liking pink and dressing up.
We can’t win, so we may as well do whatever the hell we want.
” She sits back, eyeing Isla with satisfaction.
“There. You’re done. You have the best bone structure of anyone in the world, by the way.
Congratulations, must be nice.” She rummages in her bag, pulling out a mirror. “Here.”
Isla goes quiet as she examines her reflection. “Wow,” she says eventually. “I look…”
Summer vibrates. “Do you like it?”
“I…didn’t know I could look like this.”
Summer throws her arms around her. “Oh please, it’s all you.
You’re so gorgeous I want to die. Okay, let me know if you want any adjustments, and then I’ll record a video of how to do it all.
Oh, and you can keep any products you like…
” She sifts through the massive pile of cosmetics piled on the counter.
“Er, if you are brave enough to find them. Actually, I’ll send you some more.
” Isla opens her mouth to protest, and Summer puts her finger on the other woman’s lips.
“Shh. Don’t fight me. This is what I was born to do. ”
“Can you do my makeup next?” Mrs Carter, the elderly librarian, calls out. “I want to give my Harry a surprise.”
Summer beams. “We will make poor Harry’s eyes fall out of his head! Just a second though, I need to pee.” She hops up off the stool.
I notice a man at the bar slide his wallet into his pocket and push out his chair. Without thinking, I’m on my feet.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Fraser calls after me. “That gives you quite a lot of leeway! It’s basically anything but algebra and fisting! Actually, I would probably give that a go to be fair—”
I follow Summer through the busy pub towards the bathrooms, deliberately shoulder-checking the guy following her. He looks irritated for a moment, then backs down when I get in his space.
“All good, man,” he murmurs. I don’t respond, following Summer through a swinging door. The back hallway is dark, the walls plastered with clippings from the local newspaper. Summer’s humming to herself as she heads towards the ladies’ room.
“Fancy seeing you here,” I say.
Summer spins around, eyes wide. “Alec! You scared me. Hi.” She glows at me.
“Having a good time?” I ask, letting my eyes stroke the hemline of her dress. It is millimetres from showing everything.
“The best. I thought everyone might hate me, because I’m English and a stranger and I don’t really fit in here at all. But they’re all so nice!”
I step closer, crowding her against the wall. “Is that so.” I slide my hand up her back, crumpling the soft lace in my fist.
Summer melts against me, smiling. “Do you like the dress?”
“What dress. I don’t see one. It barely exists.”
She pouts. “Hey, that’s not my fault, I ran out of fabric.”
I trail my hand lower, skimming the hem. “Clearly. What did you even make it out of? A crop top? Belt? Bikini bottoms, perhaps?”
“Oh no, it was this old wedding dress I found.”
My mouth goes dry. All of the blood in my body sinks to my crotch. I stare at her. “You’re kidding.”
“No?”
“This is…” I can’t stop myself from gripping her soft hip. “It’s a goddamn wedding dress?”
She looks nonplussed. “Yes? I’m very into upcycling. Why, don’t you like it?”
I genuinely can’t speak for almost a full minute. “I hate it,” I grit out. “It’s been driving me insane all night.”
“Oh.” She frowns. “Well, I can take it off if you like.” I choke, and she presses closer to me. “Only if you beg though. And you don’t do that, do you?” Her eyes sparkle with mirth.
“You did this on purpose,” I realise. The tiny dress, the constant bending over…She’s been teasing us all intentionally.
I should have known. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me before. Summer might be all smiles and sparkles, but you don’t get almost five million people following your every move by accident. Summer is an expert at making people want her.
She looks at me like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. “Did what?”
“You knew everyone would be staring at you in this…thing. You want us to touch you.”
“What? Nooo…”
I let my hand slide lower, slipping under the dress and grasping the plush curve of her bum. I expect to feel fabric, but there’s nothing. I frown and twist my fingers experimentally, stroking between her legs. I’m met only with damp, soft curls. She gasps, tipping her head back.
I close my eyes, trying to collect myself. “Summer,” I say carefully. “Tell me you’re wearing some kind of microscopic underwear. Tell me you’re not bare right now.”
“Oh, no. I didn’t want a VPL,” she says, wide-eyed. “It’s okay. No one can see anything, unless they get a torch and shine it right up my—”
I crush her against the wall. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I growl. “You can’t come out to a pub in a dress this short and no pants!”
“Can’t I?” Her lashes flutter as I press my palm between her bare legs. She’s getting wetter, her sex blooming under my touch. “Oops. Too late now, I guess.”
I can’t believe this. I knock her knees apart, pushing her more firmly against the wall. “You know what I think, Summer?” I ask quietly, dipping to kiss her neck. “I think you made this dress because you wanted us to fuck you in it.” Her earrings tinkle and shiver, and I lick her throat. “No?”
“Well—” Her breath is hot against my cheek. My thumb grazes over her wet clit, and her whole body twists. “Well, it wasn’t the first goal, but if I am totally honest, perhaps it was a secondary one,” she says all in one breath. “Are you angry?”
“No. I’m not angry. I’m deciding what to do with you.” I bite at her cheek. “Let’s give you what you want, shall we?”
She nods frantically, casting around. “Is there a storage room, or—”
“Oh no. If you think it’s okay to be prancing around in public, flashing everyone you pass, I’m sure you’re okay with getting a little messy in a hallway.” Her eyes widen as I dip a finger inside of her. It slides in easily. She’s burning hot and wet as sin.
“Alec!”
“What?” I kiss her throat, working her gently with my finger. She flutters around me. “I thought this was what you wanted.”
She looks over my shoulder. “But…what if someone comes?”
“Oh, then everyone will know, I suppose. This is a small town; people love to gossip.” I slide in a second finger, curling them both inside her. Her gasp echoes around the hallway. She clutches at my shoulders.
“But—this is so—”
“Do you want me to stop?” I ask into the crook of her neck.
She’s spritzed her perfume here, and the sweet scent fills my nose.
It’s intoxicating. My mouth is watering.
All I want in the world is get on my knees and bury my face under this sorry excuse for a dress, but frankly, I don’t think she deserves it. She needs to learn a lesson.
Summer shakes her head minutely. “No,” she whispers.
“Then stop whining.” I stroke into her again with a deep, lush press of my fingers. She lets out a strangled cry as I graze against her sensitive inner wall.
Suddenly, a door slams, and footsteps reverberate down the corridor. Summer’s eyes widen, and she clamps her lips shut. We both go still. We’re in the shadows here; as long as whoever it is goes straight to the bathroom, we’ll be fine.
The door to the men’s bathroom swings shut, and Summer relaxes.
“You’d better be quieter than that,” I advise her drily.
“They’ll hear you in the bar. Although, you’ve never been very good at being quiet, have you?
Even knowing I was in the next room over wasn’t enough to stop you moaning the walls down when Fraser and Cameron first got their hands on you.
” I resume stroking inside her, massaging the delicate bundle of nerves which makes her squirm.
“I—” She’s sweating now, her tight body shaking against me. “I’m sorry.”
“No, no. Don’t say sorry. It was the stuff of dreams.” I add a third finger, curling them carefully. Her mouth falls open as her hot slick pools on my palm.
“Oh, Alec, I’m going to—”
“Hold it,” I order.
“What?”
“Wait for that man to leave. Or do you want to be found mid climax in my local pub?” I don’t let up my movements, teasing my fingertips repeatedly over her most sensitive spot.
She’s panting now, writhing over my hand. “I can’t,” she whispers, sounding panicked.
“Pull yourself together.”
“How am I meant to do that while you’re still fingering me?” she hisses.
“Exert some self-control.”
“I can’t, it’s too…I’m so—” She moans quietly, twisting a hand in my shirt and burying her face in my shoulder as she desperately tries to keep from coming. I nuzzle against her neck. Her dangly earrings tinkle delicately against my cheek as her breath hitches over and over again.
There’s the distant sound of a tap running.
“Homestretch,” I tease, fluttering my fingers. She bites my shoulder. Eventually, the door to the men’s opens again. Footsteps fade down the corridor. When they’re gone. Summer melts against me, twisting my collar so hard she’s nearly strangling me.
“Now,” she pleads. “Now, now, come on.”
I keep touching her deep inside, until she’s right on the very brink. I could keep her here on the edge forever, teasing her with the promise of relief. Making her gasp and beg and whimper for more.
But no. Not today. I curl my fingers into her one last time, watching her body wind up for release—
Then I draw back, clasping my wet hand on her thigh. She looks up at me, her brown eyes hazy and confused. Sweat touches her temples, and her lip gloss is smeared. She looks unbelievable.
“What?” she whispers, trembling. “Why…”
I tug the hem of her dress back into place. “You’d better get back to your makeup station,” I tell her flatly. “They’ll be wondering where you are.”