Chapter 20
Every time we meet someone at this gala, they compliment our matching colors. Sure, the dark plum of my dress is a really great match to the tie Ben hand-picked and is a classy look with all the black he’s wearing. But I can see the rumples in it from where he had my wrists tied together, every little crease from being folded. And then my gaze slides to his makeshift pocket square, the matching lace panties he peeled down my hips.
The soaked fabric that smells like wet pussy right underneath his nose.
I want to strangle him with his own tie every time he leans in, even if I can’t help but inhale. Because as much as I hate him for it, it turns me on.
And my ability to be somewhat normal in a social context is even more fucked than usual.
My palms press flat to my thighs, tugging on the opening of the high slit every few minutes. I’ve already embarrassed myself with my usual word vomit more than once.
“And how are you doing over here, cousin dearest?” Cora’s voice is light and airy, gripping her fourth champagne of the night. Not to mention the drinks her and Fred had at the bar before arriving. She picks up my wrist, fingers dragging down my palm before dropping my hand like she hadn’t done it at all. “Are you enjoying the gala?”
“I mean, yeah. I guess. It’s all very stand around and chit-chat. The dance performance was nice—never actually seen a ballet before. Their costumes are so gorgeous.” I sigh, dragging my fingers through the layers of tulle on the skirt of my dress, tempted to twirl in a circle. “Now I want to go to the ballet for real. And I’m fucking starving, I can’t wait for the food.”
There’s a quizzical look on her face as she leans into Fred’s side, the ease in which his arm wraps around her middle and pulls her close is astounding. My heart beats wildly when Ben even grazes my elbow with the tips of his fingers and leans in to whisper in my ear over the sound in the hall.
It’s not that I don’t want him to touch me, it actually settles me to know he’s there. A gentle reminder that isn’t over the top, that doesn’t have me glancing around for the eyes that aren’t even paying us any attention.
I blame this paranoia on my first boyfriend’s love for sticking his tongue too far down my throat and his hand too far up my shirt at every football or basketball home game where everyone either cheered him on or the staff kicked us out. Gotta love the highs and lows of high school.
“I’m sure Ben would take you if you asked,” Cora says, her hand curling over Fred’s forearm as he presses a gentle kiss to the top of her head, pulling her mouth up into a smile.
I can catch a little hint of his and Ben’s conversation with Julio Jones, a city planner here in Manhattan, but it’s all market prices this, cost of lumber that. None of them tune in, but I can feel Ben’s hand sliding into place against my lower back as his thumb brushes back and forth over the sheer lace of my bodice.
“Maybe, yeah. Another fun thing to dress up for.” Like I don’t loathe the way these heels are pinching my toes together or the severe amount of makeup I’ve slathered on to look good under these lights.
“We could always go together.” She gives a little shrug, tucking her chin into her shoulder, but the bright blue of her eyes sparkle with mischief.
I squint at her, my fingers curling into the side of Ben’s jacket. “What’s that look for?”
“Nothing,” Cora says dismissively. “I’m sure we’d all enjoy ourselves very much.”
I’m not sure what she’s cooking up, but the way a grin takes over her face tells me that there’s something happening in that brain of hers. And her plans usually involve some form of getting black-out drunk. She’s fucking handsy even with me when she’s wasted.
I cast a glance at Fred and Ben.
“Don’t even think of the word swap right now, or I will throat-punch you.”
She cackles exactly like an evil witch, head thrown back and everything. Naturally, everyone in our vicinity turns to look at her. She tosses the red curtain of her waves over her shoulder, soaking up the attention.
“What’s so funny?” Fred asks, turning his attention to her fully and pressing a kiss to her temple.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she teases, curling her hand around the scruff on his chin and pulling him in for a kiss.
I’m not sure why my cheeks heat so much, but they’re a pretty picture. The dark red of Fred’s hair and copper of Cora’s is a stunning image, and they know it. At least Cora does.
“Fred mentioned that Cora is your cousin, is that right, Emme?” Julio turns toward me, lifting his champagne glass to take a sip as his gaze flickers between us.
“Unfortunately.”
Cora lets go of Fred and snaps her arm out to curl around mine, reeling me in until I’m smushed into her side. “Oh please, you’re blessed to be related to me,” she says, dipping down the few inches that separate us to press her cheek to mine. “Too bad you didn’t get the McCarthy red hair or we’d be fucking unstoppable.”
“Would be kind of weird considering it’s our mothers who are sisters.”
She blows a raspberry into my skin and I cringe, jolting away from her and into the welcoming embrace of Ben’s arms as he soothes a palm down my spine. His thumb swipes away the glossy print of her lips on my cheek.
I drag my gaze up, watching the shine of all the twinkling lights from the ceiling reflect in the way he looks me over.
“You all right?” he asks softly, only for my ears, and my heart beats slow and fast all at once.
“Yeah, don’t—”
“Benjamin?” a voice calls from our peripheral.
Words die in my throat as we both turn to look at a woman in a dark emerald dress as she eats the rest of the distance between us.
Ben straightens up immediately, but his hands remain around me and his throat bobs in a swallow when I look back at him. His jaw ticks, muscle jumping under the hard press of his teeth.
“Marissa,” he says, the name feeling like ice in my veins. “What are you doing here?”
My fingers curl into Ben’s jacket, reluctantly turning back to the woman.
She’s gorgeous in an effortless way, even with the air of arrogance that wafts off of her as she looks down the angle of her slim nose at me. The corner of her lip lifts in a sneer, her eyes lingering on the high slit of my dress at the top of my thigh before she brushes the blunt edge of her dark hair behind her shoulder.
“Well, as surprised as I am to see you here”—considering Ben told me he’s been going to this gala annually for the last four years, I’m sure she knew he’d be here—“my boyfriend, Johnnie Darrow is an extremely large benefactor.”
“Your lawyer?” Ben sounds so fucking defeated as he says the words, like it’s a punch to his heart. I know without a doubt that this is his ex-wife.
His hand grips harder around my hip, and I lean into him. My mind wanders, wondering if that’s who she cheated on him with and for what godforsaken reason.
“Yes, my lawyer.” She examines her nails, like the subject is boring, before tucking her clutch underneath her arm and popping her hip out as her eyes roam over me again. “And who’s this?”
“This is my date, Emme.”
I give the politest smile I can muster, considering her glare feels like I’m staring down the Wicked Witch right now. Kill ‘em with kindness, they say.
“How nice to run into you tonight. I haven’t heard much about you, but it’s still nice to put a face to the name.”
If it hurts her at all, she doesn’t let it show.
Marissa sweeps her gaze between the two of us before it stretches over our shoulders. I’m sure she’s probably trying to put two and two together between us, Cora, and Fred. I can only hope she’s as bad at math as I am. “Well, glad you’re exploring your options, sweetie, but just remember, there’s plenty of fish in the sea.”
My jaw falls a little slack, considering all her ire that she seemed to shift toward me and now feeling like it’s thrown the curve ball back to him.
I don’t even have the words to say anything back.
“Maybe you should get back to your date,” Ben clips out.
She shrugs. “He lets me do whatever I want, talk to whoever I want, fuck whoever I want”—and my jaw fucking drops further—“but you don’t tell me what to do anymore, Ben.”
He takes a half-step back, like he can’t stand her presence and I honestly can’t either.
“Have a nice night, Marissa.”
Her smile is anything but sweet. “Have fun with your toy, Benjamin. You look happy at least.”
“Thank you,” he says. “I finally am without you.”
She turns sharply on her heel, and the ice she put in my veins has turned to fire, raging beneath my blood. I’ve never been so tempted to slap someone before. She’s a fucking bitch.
“Bye, Rissa!” Fred calls from behind us, jest in his voice.
Ben’s shoulders heave with a sigh, sinking under the clap of Fred’s hand as he turns toward him. “Don’t antagonize her, man. She’d probably fucking come back over here.”
Fred scoffs. “She’s such a joke. I wouldn’t be surprised if she wasn’t even here with Johnnie. I’d go over there, but she’s liable to call security on me for even looking at her.”
“What?” Cora asks. “She doesn’t like you?” She looks up at Fred with a frown.
“Never has, even when we were young,” he says with a shrug. “And all three of us grew up together, so that shit goes back a long time.”
Julio raises his eyebrows, glancing between the four of us, but keeping silent. If I didn’t know better, I’d think maybe he’s a gossip by the way he’s trying to soak up the tea.
I glance at Ben, a frown pulling the corners of his mouth down as he grabs a glass of champagne from a passing server, downing it in two gulps.
There’s still a lot of emotion in the way his eyes close for a beat longer than a blink and then it’s gone, just like that.
“Well, if she doesn’t like you, then I don’t like her,” Cora says decisively.
“She’s clearly jealous,” I say. “You do look good in a suit.”
Ben turns to me, the ghost of cinnamon drifting over my lips as he leans down to press his forehead to mine. His fingers tug on one of the curls in my ponytail. My face heats up, shifting the weight between my feet, but when he opens his eyes, the reflection is all me and I wonder exactly what he sees.
“Not better than you in this dress.”
I push on his chest until he stands up straight. “You would know, you bought it for me.”
“Just like I bought these heels…” Ben trails his hand down the center of my back again, but this time, it leaves a line of fire in the wake of his touch. “And this bracelet…” He brings my hand up to kiss the back, fingers brushing over my palm in a soothing manner as the diamonds on my wrist twinkle. “And your panties.”
My gaze drops to the plum lace tucked into the front of his jacket, and my mouth starts to water at the memory it evokes.
“You’re changing the subject.”
“To a more interesting topic,” he says smoothly.
“Ugh, you guys are disgusting,” Cora says dismissively, though there’s a smirk tipping her mouth.
“Absolutely,” Ben agrees, a smile pulling across his face. The change in his expression soothes a part of my soul. “Why don’t you come with me to grab a drink, Emmeline?”
“Okay, yeah, sure.” He starts to tug me away from the group. “I think I actually need to drink something more than alcohol though. Or maybe I need to eat. When’s the food coming out? Or maybe we could quickly pop over to that Mexican place across the street, I love—”
“Tacos, yes I know, little bird. But we’ll get to that in a bit,” he finishes for me, and it’s only now that I realize we aren’t anywhere near the bar, but he’s leading me up the stairs past the sign that clearly says No Permittance.