Wild Nights

by Shayne Ford

“Were you two fighting? Everything seemed to be fine before you went swimming.”

  “Yes, we were,” he says softly, avoiding my eyes.

  “Over me?”

  “No, no... It had nothing to do with you,” he says and cuffs the back of my neck. “It’s something else. He’ll get better.”

  “You’re not good yourself,” I say, looking at him intently.

  He barely pushes a smile to his lips.

  “I’m fine. Let’s go inside,” he says pulling me toward the entrance.

  I hold onto him and keep him still.

  “Listen... If it’s something that has to do with me, I need to know. And even if it’s not, I need to know. I don’t like secrets.”

  “It’s nothing. He’s just moody.”

  Groups of guests walk past us, vanishing into the house.

  His fingers lace through mine as he walks me through the main door.

  “You look great,” he says with a different voice as we enter a large foyer.

  He stops for a moment, and swiftly runs his eyes over my red dress.

  “Thank you. You too,” I say, taking in his tailored pants that fall teasingly on his hard butt and the dress shirt fitting tightly across his chest.

  Seemingly in a better mood, he gives me a charming smile.

  Slightly bigger than Braxton’s home, the house is beautifully decorated with bouquets of jasmine, gardenia, roses, and lilies, the floral scent wafting through the air.

  Formally dressed men and women sit at the tables. Some dance while others sip champagne, scattered in the backyard.

  “Hello again.”

  A cheering voice echoes behind me, the sensual Brazilian accent giving me an instant clue.

  “Hi.”

  “You found him,” Marco says, hurling a suggestive glance to Jagger who smiles smugly.

  “Is this your place?” I ask.

  “Yes. Please feel at home. Jagger knows his way around,” he says and grins before he shifts his gaze to a nearby couple.

  Smoothly, he excuses himself and pulls away, and I turn to Jagger.

  “You know your way around?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow.

  Smirking, he shakes his head, a playful expression sliding on his face.

  “He’s talking about last year.”

  “Oh... Last year. I see.”

  “Care to dance?” he asks, not giving me much time to ponder.

  He curls his arm around my waist and spins with me on the dance floor.

  Silence slips between us.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  He tips my chin up.

  “Are you?’ he asks, serious.

  “Yes,” I say with more conviction.

  “You have no idea how happy I am that you’re here,” he says softly, his eyes glinting with emotion that makes my heart swell.

  “I’m happy too. It feels as if so many things have happened since our first night together at the beach house in New York.”

  His fingers fan over my neck, then brush my face gently.

  “We’ve never talked about something...” I say.

  “Yes?”

  “The day your parents came and caught us... I regret I left that way, not saying a word to you. When Braxton took me home, I was convinced it was over, and in a way it was. I couldn’t get over the fact that it had all slipped through our fingers because of some stupid mistake like not checking your messages or whatever. When we got home, I should’ve sent him back, but I didn’t. I could’ve stopped him, yet I didn’t. I needed him. He was different with me that day, and so was I, and what happened between us was dirty and filled with lust, and it felt good, but after he had left, I felt really bad. I knew we’d crossed a line. To me, it felt as if we’d broken your trust. He said we hadn’t, but something tells me that we did.”

  We keep our eyes lock for a few moments, and then without a word, he places a soft kiss on my lips.

  “There was no line to cross. There are no lines between us, baby,” he says smiling, and he kisses me again.

  8

  VIOLET

  We stroll to a nearby table as soon as the song comes to an end.

  I take a seat while he walks to the bar.

  Across the dance floor, Braxton’s entertaining a group of people, a brunette clinging to his arm.

  She seems to be ready to mount him, and I pull my eyes away from them, something irking me.

  I check my phone a couple of times, trying to keep my focus away from him.

  Jagger brings drinks to our table and then excuses himself, and joins a man and his wife, not far from me.

  My eyes slip to Braxton again.

  Propped on the railing, hands tucked in his pockets, he flashes a full mouth smile, the woman glued to him.

  Her arms are looped around his waist, her head tipped back, her whole face smiling. I see how taken she is with him.

  For as long as I stare at him, not once does he look in my direction or Jagger’s, for that matter.

  Gingerly, I push the chair back and strut across the dance floor.

  “Hey,” I say behind the woman’s back.

  His eyes flick at me. She spins around, surprised. I motion to him.

  “May I talk to you?”

  He stalls for a moment.

  “Now,” I say, calm but firm.

  The woman’s mouth falls open.

  “Who is she?” she asks.

  He excuses himself, and without giving her an answer, he pushes off the railing.

  I walk ahead of him and enter the house, looking for a private place to talk. I finally spot the bathroom. I push the door open, pull him inside, slam the door shut and lock it.

  I spin on my heel.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I ask, glaring at him.

  He shoves his hands in his pockets, his eyebrows lifting slowly, a small grin tilting his lips.

  “Don’t fucking look at me like that, Braxton, and don’t you fucking dare to smile. I thought I was clear when I said no other people, and that includes the woman’s whose vagina was hanging out of her panties.”

  Crushed laughter spills in his eyes. He bites his lips, fighting to push it all back.

  “You think it’s fucking funny?”

  He shakes his head slowly, his laughing eyes telling me otherwise.

  “You think I suck your cock so you can come to a party and act as if you’re alone.”

  “It wasn’t––”

  My hand shoots in the air.

  “I don’t want to hear your excuse. You brought me to a party. By you, I mean Jagger and you. Do you see me making myself available to other men?”

  He looks at me, dumbstruck.

  “I asked you something.”

  He snaps out of the trance.

  “No.”

  “Then fucking don’t do it.”

  “Okay,” he says, barely suppressing his smile.

  “I’m not joking,” I growl through my teeth.

  “I know,” he says as serious as he can, considering that laughter gurgles in his throat.

  “Good.”

  I turn my back to him, curl my fingers around the knob, and pull the door open. He slaps it closed and locks it.

  I shift back to him just as he braces his elbows against the door on either side of me, boxing me in.

  Our eyes connect. He’s smiling.

  “Braxton?”

  “What baby?”

  “We need to go.”

  “No, we don’t.”

  “Yes, we––”

  His lips crash onto mine, the warm wet feel of his mouth and the scent of his cologne invading my senses.

  My body shakes with pleasure as he nudges my lips open with his tongue and smoothly plunges it into my mouth. I feel it right between my thighs.

  He presses me more, and my arms curl around his neck before my hands slide down his back, cup his ass, and pull his groin flush against me.

  The response to him
surges through me.

  I get hot, and he gets hard, the need to have him between my thighs overwhelming me. My panties get soaked as he runs his hand between my legs.

  “I want to fuck you,” he says, pulling my panties to the side, two fingers entering me.

  “Maybe we should go home,” I murmur, my hand slipping below his belt, cupping the perfectly outlined bulge pushing against his pants.

  “Sure. Let’s go home,” he says without moving, his hard shaft stirring in my hand.

  I freeze.

  “What is it, baby?”

  I look up at him, and he searches my eyes, a soft smile curling his lips. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts typing.

  The answer comes within seconds.

  “He’ll be here in a moment.”

  A soft knock on the door makes us step away. The door cracks open, and Jagger walks in. His eyes dart from Braxton to me, the tension still present between them.

  “What’s going on?” Jagger asks, his eyes narrowing with a smile.

  “Get on your knees, baby,” Braxton says, with a gruff voice. “You’re gonna suck us,” he says, and my eyes fly to Jagger, who’s observing everything in silence. “She feels so fucking guilty so here comes the cure. You really thought Jagger was an angel?” he asks.

  My mouth drops open.

  “Yes? No?”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  “Pull your dress off, you’re gonna be covered in cum,” he says, and I bring my fingers behind my back, pull the zipper down and peel it off me.

  “Now, on your knees,” he says, as he unbuckles his belt, his zipper smoothly going down. I slide down in front of him.

  “Take me out,” he says, and I slip my hand inside his pants.

  My fingers wrap around his cock as I pull it out.

  “Jagger?” he calls him without looking at him, and Jagger comes closer.

  “Him, too.”

  Holding Braxton with one hand, I lower Jagger’s zipper, his erection already straining against his fly. I curl the other hand on him and look up at them. Their eyes light up with a twisted smile.

  “You know what you have to do.”

  Without further ado, I pull Braxton in my mouth and stroke Jagger, and then I switch. Gradually the tension between them dissipates, morphing into a wave of lust that crashes through all of us.

  Within seconds, their instinct overcomes their emotions, their eyes becoming unfocused. Wet and rock hard, their erections pulse in my hands as my tongue swirls around them, every time I lick one of them, the other one twitching in my hand.

  “She’s fucking good,” Braxton says, his eyes boring into mine, his fingers curling around my neck as he pulls me up.

  Jagger steps back and sits on the edge of the tub, while Braxton's tongue crashes into my mouth.

  “You’ve never tasted better,” he says, and his fingers hook inside my panties, tearing them off me.

  “Sit on him, baby,” he says.

  Jagger grabs my ass and pulls me down on his erection, a quiet growl lifting off his lips. Braxton’s eyes go to him, a mysterious smile flashing across his lips.

  “He fucking loves it, baby,” he mutters to me, his hands framing my face, guiding me to his crotch.

  “Oh, yeah...” he moans as my lips roll down on him, my tongue stroking his hardness. “Do you feel him, baby? He’s hitting those walls of yours, and he’ll wash you with his cum...” he says.

  Rocking my hips, I grind lasciviously against Jagger’s shaft.

  “Right on,” Braxton murmurs as my nails dig in his thighs.

  “Hold on, baby...”

  “She’s close,” Jagger breathes behind my back.

  And so is he. And Braxton.

  “She goes first,” Braxton says. “Come on baby... No screaming.”

  He’s throbbing in my mouth as Jagger’s grip hardens on my hips before I hear a grunt, and a muffled growl, and then a tsunami of sensations sweeps through me. Braxton’s hot load shoots into my mouth. He pulls back, spraying my chest and lips as Jagger pulls me down on him.

  My whole body shakes and splits in throbbing pleasure.

  Moments later, Jagger is still twitching inside me as Braxton runs a towel over me.

  “Shit man. You filled her up,” Braxton says, wiping my thighs.

  Legs trembling, I rise to my feet. Someone knocks on the door, and my heart springs out of my chest.

  Shushing me, Braxton presses his finger on my lips.

  “There’s another bathroom at the end of the corridor,” he says loudly to the person on the other side of the door.

  “Thank you,” the man says, and the sound of his footsteps fades away.

  Jagger hands me the dress. I pull it on, and then he zips me up. My eyes dart between the two of them as they fix their pants.

  “How long are you two going to be mad at each other?” I ask, and surprise runs across their faces.

  “We’re not,” Braxton says, and I tip my head to the side, looking at him, incredulous.

  “It’s nothing. Really...”

  Tenderly, he cups my face and kisses me on my cheek.

  “I’ll go first,” he says, and slithers out the door.

  I glance at Jagger, who’s been unusually quiet.

  “Something doesn’t feel right,” I say, turning to the mirror and touching up my makeup.

  I raise my gaze. A shadow rushes through his eyes.

  “What do you mean?” he asks, holding my eyes in the mirror.

  “It’s not only him,” I say, and then straighten my back and turn to him. “If you are having seconds thoughts, I need to know now. I don’t want to quit my job and move here, and then two weeks later realize that this won’t work out.”

  He looks at me, his expression unreadable.

  “Jagger?”

  “There’s nothing to be worried about. I’ll talk to him.”

  I grip his arm.

  “I want the truth, whatever it is.”

  “You know the truth. Nothing has changed,” he says with a serious voice.

  “Do you know how I ended up with him in this bathroom?”

  A small smile curls his lips.

  “I think I have an idea, but you get riled up for nothing,” he says, calm.

  He laces his fingers through mine and walks me out of the bathroom.

  JAGGER

  “Where the hell are you going, Braxton?”

  He turns frosted eyes to me.

  “Swimming. You?”

  “It’s fucking three o’clock in the morning. What the fuck is wrong with you, man?”

  “Where is she?”

  “Sleeping.”

  “What do you want from me, Jagger?”

  He pulls on his swim trunks and walks away.

  I leap after him and grab his arm. He yanks it out of my lock, his eyes blazing.

  “Talk to me, Braxton. Why are you so angry?”

  “I’m not angry.”

  “Yes, you fucking are.”

  “Come with me. We’ll talk at the beach,” he says.

  He walks into his closet and comes back with a pair of swim trunks.

  I peel the sweatpants off and pull the shorts on.

  Almost two hours later, we sit on the towels, next to a small fire, the waves rolling softly in front of us.

  We stare at the dark horizon.

  He’s been quiet for the past hour or so, making it so much harder for me. Wet strands of hair fall over his eyes.

  He looks down at the sand, and before I can crush the impulse, I grasp his shoulder.

  He shoots his eyes to me.

  “I didn’t want to hurt you...” I say quietly. “That was not my intention.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he says, his voice hollow.

  My heart hurts.

  “Yes, it does matter. I already told you that.” He stays quiet. “For some reason, your letter had resonated with me, and I thought about it many times. It’s something I go ba
ck to every time I want to learn something about you or understand...”

  “It was not... about us,” he says firmly, yet he sounds defeated.

  “Yes, it was,” I say softly. “Please don’t deny it.”

  He crosses his arms over his knees and hides his face.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does to me,” I say, regretful. “What I did yesterday was stupid. I shouldn’t have dared you like that. It wasn’t meant as a joke or a mockery, but I know it may have come across like that. When we shared Violet for the first time, she said she’d never seen me so happy. The reason I was so happy was because I couldn’t have asked for more. I told her she was the only woman I ever loved and you were the only friend I could trust with my life. She said she didn’t want any of us to get hurt, and she knew you loved me, and I admitted to her that I knew too.”

  He raises his head and looks at me, surprise washing over his face.

  “That’s why when I read it, I wasn’t surprised you felt that way. What truly affected me was the sadness and the desperation captured in your words. I couldn’t believe the depth at which you felt everything and the contrast to what you said and did as you were trying to make everything look so easy and pain-free. I always thought you were a free spirit, and your heart was as wild as mine. I still think you are, but I never had a good grasp of what lay beneath that surface. I felt you on edge so many times, so close to me, and yet you’ve always managed to hold yourself back. I know why you stayed, and I know how hard it is for you. I know you’re waiting the day when Violet changes her mind and asks me to choose. You think it didn’t cross my mind? It did. The problem is, I can’t choose,” I say, emotion threading through my voice.

  He looks at me and then he shakes his head.

  “I think we’re lying to ourselves, Jagger. Things have changed,” he says. “You’re not the same,” he mutters, his eyes glistening in the dark.“You’re slipping away from me each and every day. No matter how hard you try, there’s an invisible thread that pulls you away from me, and it’s nobody’s fault. Not Violet’s, and not yours. It’s just fucking life. And the irony is, I’ve never felt so strongly about you as I do right now, and it’s probably because you’re slipping away. Or perhaps because witnessing you falling for her has opened my eyes. Your love for her shed light on things I’ve always pushed back because I never fully understood them. In a sense, we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her, and now it’s precisely because of her that you’re gonna go away.”