by Tara Hart
She waits for a response that never comes. She picks up the hem of her dress and rushes through the sea of people, toward the exit.
“Savvy wait,” I shout, not caring about the charade we’ve been playing all night. It’s Savannah on my arm tonight, not Selina, and I don’t care if the whole room knows the truth.
I walk after her, pushing through the crowd, so I don’t lose sight of her. She stops rushing once she reaches the patio. The overwhelming scent of cigars fills my nostrils. Usually, I enjoy the smell, but tonight it makes me want to gag.
When I reach for her arm she doesn’t flinch. She looks up at me, her eyes glazed over with fresh tears.
“How could you think that?” I ask her. “You’re nothing like her.”
I reach for her hand that’s clutching her cellphone. I feel it vibrate against my palm as the display lights up.
Her gaze meets mine, her bottom lip lowering as if she’s about to cry.
“Selina.” I know without looking at the display.
Savannah nods her head once.
“Don’t let her destroy us.” I dip my head, pressing a kiss to Savannah’s shoulder, but it does little to relax her.
I sigh. “She won’t destroy us if you don’t let her.”
I can see by the regret written all over Savannah’s face. Her loyalty lies with her sister and there’s not a goddamn thing I can do to tear them apart.
With a shake of my head, I take a step back, shoving my hands in my pockets as I fight back the urge to clench my fists.
“Answer it, Savannah. You know you want to.”
She looks from me to the phone and then back to me. Her hand hovers over the display, hesitating over the button.
She squeezes her eyes closed before bringing the phone to her ear.
I watch as she turns her back and walks out of the gala and out of my life. Savannah had made her choice ten times over.
Everything between her and I seemed so real, but now I realize, I’d been living in a world of make-believe.
Chapter 13
Fingers brush against the warmth of my skin. Familiar fingers, both distinct and experienced.
Her hands trail over my biceps, tracing circular patterns against my skin that’s getting hotter by the moment. She finds her way to my chest, feeling her way around each pec before delving lower. Her fingers drift slowly, seductively down my body. Her journey is so slow that it teeters on the verge of being painful.
I don’t realize I’m naked until her fingers tickle my cock. She wraps her thumb and forefinger around the base, slowly pumping me a few times, raising every inch of me to full attention.
I moan deep. I’ve missed her touch.
“Mmmm,” I breathe. “Fuck yeah.”
The darkness of the room only adds to the anticipation of the moment. It’s like being blindfolded. I bite my bottom lip at the thought.
My heavy breathing is the only sound to fill the room. I shuffle my body down the bed, giving her better access to my cock. I gasp when I feel the warmth of her mouth surround me. Her tongue feels so good as it guides me in and out of her mouth. I buck my hips, shooting my cock deep down her throat, my hands tangling in her hair, taking her deeper.
“Fuck, Savvy,” I breathe.
She pulls my cock from her mouth, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh as the air hisses between her teeth. The throaty laugh that follows causes my eyes to shoot open and my whole body to tense.
I fumble around the bedside table, my fingers eventually finding the switch and flicking the light on.
I don’t have to see her face to know she’s here. Now that I’m well and truly awake, I can feel her presence. It hangs in the air like a virus, unavoidable and stifling.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Selina?” I attempt to pull the bed sheet to cover my body, but she tugs it away, her long red nails digging into the thin material with little effort.
She eyes me for a long moment, her gaze trailing over my bare chest.
“You’re looking good, Shaw.” She licks her lips as her eyes trail to my manhood. “Someone’s been working out.”
Ignoring her condescending tone is easy now that I don’t have to live with her.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I repeat, this time between gritted teeth.
She stands from the bed with her hands on her hips. It’s her signature stance that I’ve seen way too many times over the past eight years. I don’t miss that sight one bit.
“Expecting someone else, sweetheart?”
My cheeks flame red. I’m angry and perhaps a little embarrassed that I’d welcomed her touch so desperately. I shuffle up the bed, sitting with my back against the headrest, my feet crossed one over the other.
“I don’t have time for games, sweetheart.” I throw the word back at her with such force that she flinches.
“Save us all some time and tell me why you’re here.”
She smiles. Selina’s always liked a challenge and me posing questions to her is exactly what she wants. I can’t wait to hear the story she’ll spin next.
“How did you get in here anyway?” I ask, seemingly as an afterthought.
She fights a smile. “I may have a key,” she toys with the words as if they’re a riddle I have to solve. It’s obvious to me.
Savannah managed to get her hands on a key. Fucking traitor.
With a roll of my eyes, I sneer. “Savannah.”
She shakes her head. “Nope. Camille.”
Our housekeeper, of course. I knew I couldn’t trust her not to speak with Selina even when I explicitly told her not to.
Selina tilts her head to the side.
“You really thought Savannah would come here during the night and suck your cock?” She giggles. “Come on, Jared. She’s not that adventurous.”
My teeth grind together as she speaks. I try to tell myself that she just wants a reaction, it’s all a game to her, but I can’t stop my body from reacting. She baits me with little effort.
There’s one thing I do know about Selina though—she hates competition.
I tuck my hands behind my head as I recline back, letting out a gentle sigh.
“Savannah comes here every other night,” I say. “She sneaks in and begs me to fuck her. Sometimes I do, sometimes I make her get on her knees and suck me off before I will even contemplate touching her body.”
She thinks I don’t notice, but her confidence wanes. She swallows roughly, her red lips pursed together as if she’s smelled something bad. It’s a game I’m playing, a deliciously wicked game and for every sick and twisted story she has, I have one to top it.
“She swoons when I touch her pussy. Her hips lift off the bed as if she can’t get enough of me.” I lick my lips. “She can’t get enough of my tongue devouring her pussy.”
Selina sits on the edge of the bed with her legs crossed, her demeanor has changed in the blink of an eye.
Her fingers creep along the comforter towards my bare leg. She needs to know that I’m attracted to her, it’s as if her life depends on it.
“Don’t do it, Selina.” My voice thickens. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
I watch as her eyes go wide. “I’m getting so turned on by your stories.” She forces a smile. “I need you.”
She sucks the corner of her lip into her mouth as she offers me her best attempt at a doe-eyed glance. She fails miserably.
I shake my head. “Not a chance in hell.”
She leans forward, offering me a peek of her cleavage. For the first time, I notice she’s wearing a short red dress.
Her knee slides along the bed as her fingers strum against the inside of her thigh. It’s as if she’s playing the piano, her fingers long and thin, knowing each key to press. She spreads her legs wider, revealing her bare pussy.
“I forgot my underwear.” She clasps her hand to her mouth. “Oops.”
I try not to react, but my dick doesn’t obey me.
“Fuck,” I grunt.
; She smirks. “I still turn you on, Jared.”
I shake my head, silently begging my cock to obey me, but I’m hard and she’s just inches away.
“Admit it.” She giggles. “I’m a better fuck than her.”
I scoff. “If that’s what you have to tell yourself so you can sleep at night, then sure, you’re an amazing fuck.”
She smiles, biting the corner of her lip as she reaches between her legs.
“Don’t,” I mouth, but my voice doesn’t follow.
She licks her bottom lip. “What?”
Her body moves up the bed as she gets as close as possible without actually touching me. I breathe a sigh of relief that her legs are now shut, but I’m acutely aware of how close her body is. I can smell her scent—perfume and attitude.
I know that I need to stand up and leave the room, but I can’t. My legs won’t budge and my body is unresponsive. It’s as if I’m stuck in the moment, too turned on to move.
She’s now an arm’s length away from me. Her hand reaches between us, her finger tracing a circle on my knee.
“Don’t test me,” I say.
She moves further north, her fingers running up my leg and closer to my cock. She stops, her eyes locking with mine for one intense moment.
“Don’t,” I say weakly.
She giggles as one hand reaches for my cock and then the other.
I gather every ounce of energy I have, my fingers locking around her wrists, grasping them in one hand, binding them together with force.
“Don’t play your fucking games with me,” I seethe. “Don’t even think about it.”
She writhes against me, trying to free her hands.
“Let go of me.” I sense the slightest ounce of fear in her voice. I like it.
I tilt my head to the side. “When I let go, you’re going to stand up, grab your things and walk out the door, okay?”
She struggles against me, her ass writhing against the bed, causing her dress to ride up her thighs.
“Let go,” she says.
I snicker. “Not until you agree.”
“Okay,” she concedes, panic clear in her voice.
Releasing my grip, she instantly rubs the skin of each wrist. I notice red marks appearing on her usually flawless skin. It satisfies me.
She stands, smoothing her dress with the palms of her hands before scrambling her things together.
“You’re so easy to wind up, Jared.” Her bravado has returned, just in time for her departure. “I was bored of you anyway.”
I hold back the laugh that she deserves. This was never about boredom or love or anything in between. This has always been about Selina feeling more superior than her sister. It scares her that she’s failed.
“Everything that’s happening,” I start. “Everything you’re going through is an accumulation of what you asked for—what you deserve.”
She chances a look at my face. She’s shaken, it’s clear. “I’ve waited eight long years to give you what you deserve.”
I scoff as I watch her head for the door. “Lose the key, Selina,” I shout after her.
She turns around. I spot the silver key sitting in the palm of her hand. She raises her hand above her head as she throws the key across the room. If she was aiming for my head, she’s failed miserably because it hits the wall and falls to the floor.
“Nice try,” I say.
She narrows her eyes as she gives me one final glance. “Asshole.”
The door closes behind her and I breathe for the first time in what feels like an eternity.
She’s always had that effect on me. The ability to take my breath away with her mere presence.
For the first time I realize, maybe that’s not such a good thing.
Chapter 14
I enter the bar as if I’m God. I’m not being arrogant, but chicks dig me.
Two girls are instantly at my side as soon as I make my way to the bar. I pull a seat between my legs and sit down.
I don’t give them the satisfaction of looking at them. I’m not interested in picking up. I just need alcohol and lots of it.
“Hey.” One of the girls trails her fingers over my bicep.
I’ll call her blondie because that’s all that I notice about her—she’s blonde. She waves at her friend who takes the hint and walks away.
“Didn’t your momma ever tell you it’s rude to ignore girls,” she puts on a southern accent.
I offer her a sideways glance. She looks cheap. Her face is plastered with makeup and she’s wearing a top that reveals too much cleavage. She should save some surprises for later.
I nod my head in her direction. “Hi.”
Her hand hangs on my shoulder loosely. I look into her eyes and notice her pupils are larger than a penny. She’s high.
I take her hand in mine and throw it away. “Don’t touch me.”
She pouts, sucking her lip into her mouth. “You don’t want to play?”
I ignore her question, throwing a note in the air to catch the barkeeps attention.
“I’ll have a scotch,” I say when he approaches. “Make it a double. And a water.”
He eyeballs the blonde that’s hanging off of me. I’d forgotten about her. I inhale and then regret it immediately. She reeks of cheap drug store perfume and desperation.
“Leave me alone, sweetheart,” I tell her roughly. “I’m not interested.”
The bartender puts the water in front of me. I take the glass and shove it into her hand. Some water splashes from the side and onto her hand.
“Drink this and go away.”
She licks the water from her hand and then takes a sip from the glass. I turn my back before she tries to strike up a conversation again. I don’t need the drama, not tonight.
I down the scotch in one long swallow, but it does little to slow my mind.
I tap the bar, signaling for another pour.
Swiveling on my stool, I watch the people filling into the dark, musty bar. It pales in comparison to one of my establishments and it’s definitely not the usual place I’d choose to hang out. Too dark and depressing for my taste, but it suits my mood tonight.
Selina got me all worked up last night and ever since, I haven’t been able to shake the thought of her crawling into bed with me. I thought it was Savannah, I hoped it was, and it bothered me how bitterly disappointed I felt when it wasn’t her in my bed. Selina touching me had me wired beyond belief.
Tonight I need an outlet—or something to dull the pain—before I explode.
“Your drink,” the bartender says as he points to the fresh glass he’s placed next to my elbow.
I nod, thanking him, before taking the drink in my hand and surveying the bar. I spot a tall brunette at a nearby booth. She's got legs that go for days. They’re tanned and toned and suit her bronzed face to a tea. I don’t have to look for long to know that she’s my type.
She’s with a man who is old enough to be her father. He’s well dressed in a charcoal suit that was probably in fashion about ten years ago. His salt and pepper hair makes him look distinguished. By the way he carries himself, I’d say he’s old money.
I watch as his hand sidles up against the brunette’s thigh. She giggles, slapping his hand away when it reaches far beneath her skirt.
Her eyes travel around the bar to see if anyone’s watching. She stops surveying the room when her gaze meets mine.
She tilts her head, her hair falling over her face as her lip picks up into a subtle smirk.
I nod my head, knowing that’s enough to pique her interest. She shuffles her ass along the booth seat, placing some distance between her and Salt and Pepper.
Shrugging back the rest of my drink, I throw a twenty on the bar and stand up, my eyes not once leaving hers. I set off for the bathroom without looking back. I don’t need to glance over my shoulder to know she’s following me. Call me arrogant, but I’m certain she’ll come after me.
Standing next to the bathroom door, my foot resting agains
t the wall behind me, I wait for her approach. She saunters in my direction, a sly smirk on her lips.
It takes me thirty seconds to have her inside a stall with her back pressed against the door.
Pulling the top of her dress down reveals her perfectly proportioned and obviously fake breasts. I take the mounds in the palms of my hands, kneading them, my tongue following where my hands have been before biting her nipples between my teeth. She lets out a horribly loud and exaggerated moan. I clasp my hand to her mouth to shut her up. I don’t need the distraction or the theatrics of a wannabe porn star.
She has me semi-hard just from the sight of her plastic breasts. I rush to unbutton my jeans, taking my cock in my hand, pumping it a few times. I feel my way around between her thighs, pulling her thong aside, rubbing her clit for a whole three seconds before pushing inside of her.
She moans again, this time I don’t try to muffle her cries. It only makes me pump into her harder, my groans merging with her cries of pleasure. Her head hits the cheap wooden door as I pound into her again and again. She wraps her legs around my waist as she kisses the damp skin of my neck.
“Don’t kiss me,” I mutter.
The last thing I want is the taste of her on my skin.
She bites into her knuckle as I pound into her harder, feeling my release approaching. The sound of her body being thrown back against the door has me close. The buildup of pressure from my balls threatening to explode at any moment.
“Oh, Savvy,” I shout as I come fast and hard, pulling out of her and coming against the palm of my hand.
She gasps for air as she watches my juices flow into my hand.
“Who’s Savvy?” she asks as if it’s any of her business.
Grabbing some paper, I wipe the pool of come from my hand and flush it down the toilet.
“No one,” I grunt.
Pulling the stall door open, I walk to the basin and wash the remnants of come from my skin.
“I wasn’t finished yet.” I see her in the vanity mirror. She’s standing behind me, hands on her hips as she bites the corner of her lip in a playful kind of way. She fails to seduce me. Now that I’ve had my fill, I’m done.