24. Cole
I holdmy phone under the table so that the guys can’t see my text conversation. When Riley’s message pops up on screen, I allow myself a brief, satisfied smile.
I type my response, then look back up at the other two.
We’re at Declan’s place tonight. Sophie was around earlier, but an old friend from college showed up for a night on the town, so she headed out a while ago. It was hard to miss the pure love in Declan’s expression as she kissed him on her way out the door.
Reed and Declan have been making the usual chitchat, but I’ve had trouble focusing on the conversation—waiting for that exact text from Riley. As Declan deals out a new hand, I play with the vibrator’s remote in my pocket.
I turn it on.
Declan and Reed pick up their hands, and a second later, so do I. I’ve been on a slight delay all evening.
Two fours, a six, and an ace.
I adjust the vibrator, turning up the speed. I imagine the sounds Riley must be making right now. I wonder if that cute flush is spreading over her cheeks.
Across the table, Declan lays his cards face-down. “I fold.”
Quickly, I follow suit. “Uh, me, too.”
Reed blinks at both of us. “Seriously, you guys? You’re gonna make it that easy?” Shaking his head, he rakes the pile of chips toward himself.
I change the settings on the vibrator again. This time, I’m not even sure what I changed—the speed or the rhythm. I just want to keep her on her toes.
Declan raises his eyebrows, then flips over a dismal hand. He gestures to mine. “Let’s see that.”
I let go of the remote to comply. As I do, my phone chimes—a text from Riley. I bite my tongue to hide my smile.
Upon seeing my cards, Reed huffs, shaking his head. “Come on, bro, you would’ve won with that.”
“How was I supposed to know that?” I say, glancing down to check my phone.
RILEY: One.
ME: Good girl. Keep counting for me.
I notch the speed of the vibe back down, ready to turn it up again at a moment’s notice. I’m growing turned on as I think of her, thinking of how her back arches every time she comes.
“Play bolder,” Reed suggests.
“Sure,” I say with a shrug, only half-listening.
Declan deals out a new hand. I turn the speed back up, imagining her whispered cry in response. We begin to play, and as the game goes on, I continue to change the vibe’s settings. My phone chimes multiple times.
RILEY: Two.
RILEY: Three.
RILEY: Four.
RILEY: Five.
Eventually, for her sixth message, Riley doesn’t even send a number—just an emoji. The wailing one, its mouth wide open and eyes closed.
Fuck.
“Hey, are you still with us, Cole?”
Declan’s voice makes me jump. I look up from my phone. “Huh?”
“You seem kinda distracted,” Reed says, taking up the topic. “And you keep looking at your phone. What’s going on?”
“It’s, ah—” I glance down at the screen. “It’s a work thing. Don’t worry about it.”
As I stow the phone in my pocket, Declan gives me a sympathetic nod, but Reed shoots me a suspicious glance.
“So,” I say, making an effort to engage in the conversation, “how’s Dynasty doing right now, Declan?”
“Pretty well, all things considered.” Declan reaches out to rake the cards back toward himself for another shuffle. “We’re doing great with the new affordable line. Sales are fantastic. Turns out, there was a real niche for that kind of product on the market.”
“That’s great,” I say, working the vibe controller in my pocket. The controller fits neatly into the palm of my hand. “And Reed, how are things? You seemed a little agitated when I called the other day.”
“Girl trouble?” Declan asks with a smirk.
Reed groans. “If only.”
“What’s up?”
“Apparently, I’m in hot water,” he says, drumming his fingers on the green felt surface of the table. “Even though I didn’t even do anything illegal. This time.”
“Get caught with the wrong heiress?” Declan quips. Reed shoots him a glare, which is a little surprising, coming from him. Usually, Reed takes our jokes about his playboy lifestyle in stride, waving them away or even playing along. This is a change of pace for him.
And speaking of changes of pace…
I click the vibrator remote again. When I bought it, it claimed to have over a hundred different settings, and I aim to use every single one of them.
“It’s not that,” Reed explains. “Well, it is that, but not directly. Apparently my ‘image’ is starting to affect the ‘Eastwood brand.’”
He lifts his hands to make air quotes as he speaks.
“Damn.” Declan sighs. “I’m sorry, man. That’s rough.”
“Yeah, no shit. I’ve already been roped into, let’s see…” He counts on his fingers. “Two interventions, one with the entire extended family and one with just my parents and a fucking conflict therapist. Not to mention the half-dozen sit-down conversations in my father’s office.”
“So you’re in some hot water.” Declan deals out a new hand.
“Oh, yeah.” Reed snatches up his cards, fanning them out. Even if I was focused on the poker game, it would be impossible to tell if his hand is good or bad. His face has been fixed in a genuine scowl since this conversation began. “Real hot.”
Speaking of real hot…
“Cole, are you gonna play, or what?”
“Right, sorry.” I pick up my hand, giving the cards a cursory look. I’m not really invested in the game, so I don’t really care if I lose. All I have to do is listen to my friends talk, contribute a little to the conversation, pretend I’m playing poker, and give Riley as many orgasms as I possibly can.
“So what are you gonna do about it?” Declan asks Reed, perusing his cards.
“Not sure. My parents hired an image consultant who I’m supposed to talk to.” He scoffs. “I can’t believe them. I mean… I’m not some politician with a dirty secret. I don’t know why I need a fucking PR guy.”
Declan laughs. “I mean, aren’t you? You’re the heir to the Eastwood fortune, and you can’t stop getting caught with—”
“Come on,” Reed protests, cutting him off. “I never bullshit anyone about who or what I am. When I go out, I’m not being anonymous, and I’m not hiding anything. I’m just having a good time, you know?”
“Yeah,” I say, interjecting even as I thumb the vibe controller again, “but maybe this will be a good thing.”
“What do you mean?”
I glance over at Declan, and to my relief, he picks up the thread. “Lots of people hire PR specialists for these types of things. Tons of stars. Everybody wants to have a wild night, and nobody wants consequences. Maybe they’ll help you avoid the paparazzi, or something.”
“Maybe,” Reed says dubiously. “Anyway, I’ll call.”
During the game, I find it next to impossible to focus on more than two things: the running conversation about Reed’s exploits, and the vibe remote in my pocket. The game has to go by the wayside. By the end of the night, my friends have cleaned me out.
“Thanks again, Cole,” Reed says, smirking as he takes my money.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hey—use that to pay your PR guy, huh? One conversation with you, and his rate’s definitely going up.”
Reed swats at me with his hand of cards, and I throw a chip at him. From across the table, Declan clears his throat.
“Gentlemen,” he says, chastising us. I grin at him, and he continues, “Cole, I think you owe me some money, don’t you?”
I hand it over willingly. The game seems to be breaking up; Declan gathers up the cards and chips, and Reed stretches, rising from his chair.
“A pleasure as always,” I say, standing up and shrugging on my jacket. “Next time, I’m winning a few.”
I say goodnight to the guys and call a car for myself.
As I step outside the house, I pause in the threshold to send a couple of texts to Riley.
ME: I’m on my way back now, so I’ll be there soon.
ME: Open your legs, angel. The first thing I want to see is how wet you are.