Chapter 13 #2
I don’t know if he’s filled his friend in on how much he wanted Dallas’s sister-in-law, Krisjen, but she’s used goods now. He may as well find another one.
But Jerome retorts, “She’s still hot, and there’s still time.”
I hold up my glass to toast his. “And Clay’s still up for the taking.”
I flit my eyes to the right, to the two-way mirror at the back of the booth, smiling at my reflection. Is he watching?
“So come on, then,” Jerome presses. “What are you going to do about it?”
“About Clay?”
“Friends help friends,” Micah says next to me.
I turn my gaze on him, watching his eyes drop to my mouth. Are we friends? Or are we those kinds of friends? The types who collude over a drink and fuck on the side?
I’m sure he wouldn’t care if I were married. As long as I’m still fun when we’re alone.
His long fingers tap the table, his nails pristine. Clean, filed, buffed, a stark contrast to the perpetual thin layer of dirt under Dallas’s.
But Jerome’s presence looms as he waits for my response. Does he talk to my father? Does he fill him in on what I’m up to?
Tossing back the rest of my gin, I browse the selection of people here tonight, fully aware that my father talks to everyone. I have no friends in here.
Landing on Sarai Duquette, in her red dress with her doe eyes, I remember her from school. She was a year behind me at Marymount. I guess she just eloped with John MacLeod Jr. and is back in town for a couple of nights before they take off on a friend’s yacht for the summer.
Her husband is twenty-nine, is into model shipbuilding, and keeps a room at Palm Bay Resort to meet women.
We’d almost be doing her a favor.
“When I have Clay alone,” I announce to Jerome, “here’s what I’m going to do.”
Rising, I walk over to the new bride, interrupting her husband’s conversation with Mitchell Kenmont.
Her eyes immediately lock on mine. Is Dallas watching?
She almost smiles, no doubt happy to see someone her own age.
Taking her hand, I lean into her ear. “It’s my first time, too,” I whisper.
“I just want to touch you.”
That, I can handle in public.
Her nervous eyes flash to her husband, and I check with him, too. As is considerate, of course.
His unremarkable face with his dull, brown hair smiles at her, nodding once.
He may like other women, but he wants her to be happy. Aw.
I lead her to a couch in the center of the room, and Jerome and Micah join me. I want Dallas to watch this. I want him to see that life goes on without him, and no one thinks about him.
No one.
I slide my hands down her body, kneeling at her feet and gliding my fingers back up, underneath her skirt.
Her mouth falls open, and she fights a smile, holding my eyes as I pull down her panties.
I wish this got me hard. Women know how to dress, and they always smell good. They’re gentle, tender, and useful.
Soft, manicured, waxed, tanned, and painted. They decorate men.
If I can’t do her, I can’t do anyone. I need to make this happen. Sliding her heeled legs out of her panties, I sit her down on the couch and kneel at her feet. Hooking one of her legs over my shoulder, I trail my mouth up the inside of her thigh. Her pussy is waxed, which I like.
So many times, I fantasized about Dallas catching me touching someone else and pulling me back into his grasp. How many times I wanted him to see something like this and hate it.
Jerome comes down on her right, turning her mouth to him while he unhooks her dress at the back of her neck. The top spills down, Micah diving in to feast on her breasts. Jerome kisses her lips and I tease her clit.
Her moans come in a steady succession, her back arching off the couch as I suck her into my mouth.
She cups Micah’s head with one hand, slipping the fingers of her other through my hair.
But I feel his eyes.
This is for me, not him. He won’t get jealous. I know that now.
I do everything slow and tantalizing, though, for him.
A current flows under my skin, making my cock swell hot with blood. Shooting up, I tongue her nipple, Micah and I both sucking on a breast each.
Without taking my mouth off her, I roll up my sleeves and wrap my arms around her, pulling her up to me. The other two fall away, and I whisper to her. “Kiss me.”
She breathes out a little giggle, dipping her hand between my legs as she taunts my lips with little nibbles. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she groans.
We kiss, but all I feel is him. I want him to know life is going to be diamonds without him.
Watch me.
Watch me get married and bring my kids into that school and get on and off private planes and boats and golf courses.
Watch me for the rest of your fucking life.
“His tattoo,” a woman says somewhere close to us. “Is that a Jaeger?”
I go still, Sarai continuing to kiss me.
“You like?” another woman replies.
“He’s pretty.”
The hair on the back of my neck rises; I feel Dallas close. How the hell do they see the tattoo? It’s covered by his shirt.
“You wanna touch?” someone asks, and I think it’s Jenna Taylor and Suzanna Johnson speaking. I think I remember seeing them sitting nearby.
I try to move my lips, but sweat dampens my back.
“I wonder if that’s the one my daughter spent the night with,” another woman chimes in. “When she was home for spring break.”
“Did she say he was good?”
I dive into Mrs. MacLeod’s neck, feeling her gasp as I glare at the bitches on the couch behind her. They stare in my direction, over my head.
“She kept the details to herself,” Mrs. Taylor taunts.
“Well, I guess it’s fine if you keep something to yourself, too.”
They giggle their fucking giggles and rise, taking their drinks with them. I close my eyes, covering Sarai’s mouth with mine.
Does he enjoy that? Women talking about him as if he’s good for one thing? He’s some kind of fucking joke, I swear.
He’s not going to be shit in twenty years—hell, ten years—when he’s not the piece of meat he thinks he is anymore.
I know he’s behind me somewhere, and I know he’s baiting me. I should ignore him, stay on task, and then forget he exists once this is all over, but I can’t resist.
I’m finally having fun in here.
Rising, I pull Mrs. MacLeod up. “Come here.”
Taking her place on the couch, I guide her down into my lap, reverse cowgirl.
Gesturing to Micah, I watch him sink to his knees, taking my place between her thighs. Leaning back, I slide my hand into his hair, pressing his head to her cunt.
Gripping her scalp with my other hand, I turn her mouth to mine, counting the seconds as I resist looking up.
Jerome covers her nipple with his mouth, all three of us eating at her, her husband and Mr. Kenmont standing off to the right, watching us have fun.
Flicking her top lip with my tongue, I tip my eyes up, finding Dallas.
His jacket, his shirt, his tie…They’re gone. He stands there, his wrists secured behind his back to a steel pole, his tattoo blazing at the top of his shoulder. With his head bowed, he watches the topless attendant dressed in only a sarong dust his torso with glitter.
What the hell is he doing? Women approach, one of them pushing up on her toes to whisper in his ear. I open my mouth, going still as Mrs. MacLeod gnaws at me with her mouth, and I watch Dallas nod, softly smiling down at Mrs. Taylor.
Micah’s head bobs under my hand as he sucks on Sarai, and I watch someone else graze the back of her hand down Dallas’s stomach. Brushing over the dips of his abs, she lowers her fingers to his groin, gripping the ridge of his cock that presses through his nice black pants.
I harden under Mrs. MacLeod’s ass, moan as I slide my tongue in her mouth and kiss her hard.
Two other women circle him, touching him, fawning all over his chest. His eyes find mine, and I hold his gaze like there is an invisible thread between us as I curl my fingers into Sarai’s hair.
Then, the link is broken. Dropping his stare, he zeroes in on the back of Micah’s head, and it’s a moment before I realize Micah is massaging my legs as he eats out the girl.
I stop breathing. Dallas…
I…
Dallas yanks his arms, fighting the restraints, and he must’ve told the attendant not to tie him too tightly, because, in a moment, he’s free.
He charges over to me, and I stop kissing the girl as he shoves Jerome and Micah away. “Move,” he growls.