Bad Reputation

by Jessa James

  “Mother,” I say, not even knowing where to start. “First off, I am not going to magically get pregnant, unless I’m trying. Thank god for birth control. Second, I assume that you would prefer me to be married first…”

  “That goes without saying.”

  “Right. Third, I plan on finding a job and holding that job, regardless of whether or not I am, in fact, pregnant. People do it all the time.”

  Her mouth puckers into a sour expression. “You think you can do it all, but you can’t. Especially not right after a baby.”

  I feel a little sorry for her. “I don’t think that. I do think that men should be active and involved in the child rearing process, though.”

  “Oh, really, Emmaline!” she says, exasperated. “That is just crazy talk. If your father heard you say that, he would ship you off to a rehab center.”

  “He’d have to get me declared mentally incompetent, then. Because I wouldn’t go for no reason. And what you’re saying, that we disagree over who would raise my theoretical child? That isn’t an argument that Daddy could make to the court.”

  I stand up, grabbing my purse. I’m careful to brush the wrinkles out of my dress.

  “Emmaline…”

  “I have to go, mother. I have somewhere to be. Thank you for lunch.” I turn and walk out of the dining room. I hope I look cool and collected, but inside I’m so outraged that I’m shaking.

  I get outside of the restaurant, gulping lungfuls of fresh air. Usually I do a much better job of putting my hackles up, but today I let my mother really get my goat.

  Once I pull myself together, I drive home in my coupe. The Range Rover that I had for a few days was nice, but it was just a loaner while my car was serviced. I zip my little car in and out of lanes, mindlessly driving toward home.

  I try not to steam over the horrible stuff my mother said, really I do. I breathe deeply, I count to fifty, I do all the woo woo stuff that a therapist once recommended when dealing with my family. It doesn’t lessen the sting, though.

  When I get home, I’m still so in my head that I almost pass by Evie and Maia. I back myself up, entering the kitchen to find the two of them sitting across from each other at the kitchen table. They’re each gripping a mug of tea.

  Apparently Evie has a method when she soothes a girl.

  Maia wipes away a tear, looking away from me. Evie looks at me, her expression perfectly blank.

  “What’s going on in here?” I ask, curious.

  “We’re just talking.” Evie sighs, sitting back in her chair.

  I glance at Maia. “Boy stuff?”

  Maia gives me a miserable nod. When she speaks, her highborn British accent is particularly strong. “Men suck.”

  I can’t disagree with that. “You wanna get some takeout? A pizza, maybe?”

  Evie lights up. “I’m starving.”

  I smile at her. “How about I go change, and then I meet you two on the porch? All you have to do is decide on toppings.”

  Evie grins and Maia gives me a watery smile. I scoot to my bedroom, changing into a denim miniskirt and an oversized blue tee. Then I grab my wallet and my phone and head to the porch.

  Evie and Maia are curled up in the seats, so I take a seat on the floor.

  “Are you two okay with that pizza place on Third? I dream of their breadsticks sometimes,” I say.

  “Sure,” Maia says with a shrug.

  Evie looks thoughtful. “I’m thinking goat cheese and sundried tomatoes…”

  “Yes! And… anrtichokes!” Maia says.

  “With a pesto base?” I ask.

  “You know how much I love pesto,” Evie says.

  “Yeah, sounds perfect.” Maia squints into the sunlight. “And breadsticks, because apparently this place has good ones.”

  “Oooh, and Diet Coke if they have it!” Evie says.

  “You guys don’t even know how much better you’re making my day right now,” I say, looking up the pizza place online. “After what a shitty morning I had, I’m living for this pizza order, I swear.”

  “Don’t even get me started on having a bad morning,” Maia mutters. “Did I already mention that boys suck so hard?”

  “What happened?” I ask, a little distracted by the phone in my hands.

  “My boyfriend… well, he’s definitely an ex now, I guess. Anyway, he took a bribe from my family and ratted me out.” Maia looks like she might throw up.

  “Whoa, about what?” I ask.

  Maia bites her lip. “I might have kind of… told my parents that I’ve been in art school this entire time? Like, getting my master’s degree in fine arts?”

  I look up from my phone, nothing short of shocked. “You what?”

  She gives me a lopsided smile. “Your reaction is sure to be better than my parent’s reaction. Anyway, I definitely don’t want to talk about it. Definitely definitely definitely.”

  I shake my head a little, hitting the order now button on my phone. Then I focus on Maia. “Okay. But how does that affect your citizenship? I assume that you’re here on a student visa…”

  “Can we please not talk about this right now?” she begs.

  Evie clears her throat. “How about we go back to man bashing? Cause men really really suck.”

  My phone vibrates gently in my hand. I look down and see a notification of a text from Jameson.

  Busy?

  With that one word, I’m smiling. I text him back.

  Yes. Later, though?

  I stifle a grin at his reply. You know it.

  “Who is she getting text messages from that makes her smile?” Maia asks Evie, frowning.

  “No one!” I insist, putting my phone down. “And the pizza is on the way. Now where were we with the man hating stuff?”

  Evie gives me an odd look, but lets it go. And I just sit there and listen to them complain about the men that have screwed them over… all while secretly glowing from the inside out. Because even though my parents enrage me and my brother does things that I just don’t understand…

  Jameson is there for me. He is steadfast this time, in it for the long haul. I can feel it.

  And that means that I can’t complain anymore. Not about him, at least.

  18

  Jameson

  “Are you sure we really need to go?” I ask, plucking at the hem of Emma’s clingy black dress. I’m sprawled on her bed, dressed in an expensive suit. “We could just stay in this bed, you know.”

  She looks down at me, grinning as she puts in a diamond earring. “It’s your fancy Bartender’s Guild thing that we’re going to! You definitely have to go. Besides, you promised that we could go together, to test out… you know, being out together.”

  I reach up and grab her, pulling her on top of me. I put my lips to her ear, shaping her hips through her dress. “I can think of ten things I would rather be doing.”

  For a second, she allows it. She puts her hands on my chest as I nibble on her earlobe, making a few breathy sounds.

  “Mmmm,” she says. “You are terrible.”

  I skim my hand up beneath her dress, slipping a couple of fingers into the waist of her panties. “There are some things that I am excellent at, I would say.”

  Her breath catches as my touch trails down to the crotch of her panties. I kiss her full mouth, trying to suppress the amusement I feel. I’m right, after all.

  “Evil, is what you should be called.” Her words come out stilted.

  I yank her dress up to the waist, tugging her panties down. “You know you love it.”

  Emma looks at me, her eyes heavy lidded and full of lust. “This isn’t going to make me change my mind about going tonight.”

  “We’ll see,” I say, kissing her lightly. Then I smack her ass. “I want you to ride my face until you cum.”

  “Oh, Jameson—” she starts to protest. I just smack her ass again.

  “Too much talking, not enough writhing. Get the fuck up here, before I lose my temper.”

  She blush
es ten shades of red, but she does move up the bed. She straddles my face, her movements hesitant. I turn my head and kiss her inner thigh, my facial hair tickling her bare skin.

  She breathes heavily and cups her own breasts. I brace her by laying one hand on her bare ass and one hand on her lower abdomen. She smells so fucking good like this, with her legs on either side of my head. Using two fingers to lift and separate her lower lips, I find her already drenched with lust.

  “Mmmm,” I say as I reach my tongue out, teasing her pussy with light licks.

  She moans and presses herself down, seeking more contact. I give it to her, swirling my tongue around her clit.

  “I— I—” she says, her eyes closed tightly. “Fuckkkkk, that’s so good.”

  I chuckle, the vibrations filtering into her body. For a while, I tease her by using my tongue to fuck her. She groans in frustration, and I grin. I shouldn’t be enjoying this so much, but her impatient noises and the fact that she’s creaming on my fucking tongue are just too damned good.

  I seal my lips over her clit, sucking with long, hard pulls. Emma shatters on my face, squirting and pulsing. It’s so fucking hot to see her like that, completely undone. I almost wish that I was inside her, but I know that everything has its time and place.

  I just help her ride out the orgasm, licking lazily until she pulls away. She topples over away from me, breathing hard. I sit up, wiping her cum off of my face.

  “Oh my god,” she says, her eyes still closed.

  Her dress is still around her waist. I take a moment to skim her hips and appreciate how wet her pussy still is, her wetness having spread out a little. I can see it gleaming in the dying daylight streaming in the window.

  “God you’re hot,” I murmur, kissing her thigh.

  She cracks open an eye. “You make me crazy. That final move you did where you sucked on my clit?” She makes a strangled sound. “That will be the death of me, I’m sure of it.”

  My lips curl upward. “Seems like a good way to go.”

  Emma sighs. “Will you pass me my panties?”

  I cock my head. “I think not. The idea of you being bare under that dress all night is probably the only way you’re going to trick me into going to this damned thing.”

  Her eyebrows rise, but she doesn’t insist on it. She just pushes herself up off the bed, working her dress down over her hips. She smoothes it down like I didn’t just make her cum everywhere a couple of minutes ago.

  She starts to walk to the closet, but I grab her and kiss her on the butt. She resists, struggling a little. I pay her no mind, burying my face down between her ass cheeks.

  “I think that later I’m going to eat your ass, and you’re going to love every second of it. So think about that all night while we’re socializing.”

  Then I release her, standing up. She turns around and looks at me, seeming a little dazed and a little petrified.

  “You like doing that?” she asks.

  “I like the fact that you will come harder than you’ve ever come before. And I like getting you comfortable with having your ass played with. Eventually, I plan to cum in it, but you have to start small. So that’s a hell of a bonus.” I wink, moving to get my shoes.

  She just stares at me, her jaw hanging open. “You are fucking insane.”

  “Come on, let’s get moving. We’re already late, thanks to you being so needy,” I tease.

  “You are the worst!” she tells me as she gets her shoes on. “Just so you know that.”

  I usher her out of her room and hurry her to my car. By the time we get all the way to downtown and hustle ourselves inside the hushed, darkened interior of the bar where the event is being held, it’s almost dark outside. The Golden Compass, the bar in question, is high-end and nautical themed, draped sumptuous ruby carpet and navy leather booths. It’s got a gold countertop that runs the length of the bar, and a matching gold backsplash behind that, with many kinds of fine rum on display.

  I take Emma’s hand, wandering forward into the bar. We are late, for sure; a couple of the bartenders are talking to the group about setting up a wine tasting. There’s barely any room left behind the last couple of bartenders to cram in, but my height and size make people shift over enough that we both fit in.

  One of the guys who’s talking to the group, looks over my way. He’s so hip, he’s almost dressed like a circus performer, complete with the handlebar mustache. “Well, well! Look who made it.”

  Heads turn to take in my presence. I elbow my way through the crowd, making sure that Emma stays with me. I shake hands with him.

  “Jethro, man. I don’t know if I have already told you, but I love this space.”

  “Thanks, man. Who is your lady?” He looks at Emma, who blushes furiously.

  “This is Emma. Emma, this is Jethro, who owns the bar that we’re standing in.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she says, all politeness.

  “We were just talking about doing a wine tasting. We could split it up among different bars, maybe do a cheese plate with it too,” Jethro says. “Beth, what were you saying?”

  He turns to Beth, who is dressed like a 90s raver. These people are too cool for school, that’s for sure.

  “Oh, just that we could do a special night, or we could have like… a special menu that’s available for a week.” She looks very intent.

  “Right. What do you guys think? A week, or a special night?” Jethro asks the crowd.

  “How about a month?” someone in the back calls out.

  “I second that!” a woman says.

  I look to Emma, checking up on her. She smiles a little, and I squeeze her hand. She is easy in that way; she knows that this is my world, and she seems perfectly happy to take a back seat and let me drive. At the same time, it’s not like most of the meeting is over her head or totally uninteresting.

  She’s just willing to take it all in. I appreciate that more than she knows.

  Later, when most of the crowd has dispersed, Emma and I sit pressed close together on one of the bench seats. There’s a table in front of us, and Beth is going on at length about buying the wood barrels that whiskey is aged in.

  Jethro comes over with a small tray of rum cocktails, all festively decorated with pineapple slices and tiki umbrellas. He puts them down in front of us. “Try our new drink. It’s like a Mai Tai, but more refreshing. It’s made with a ton of coconut juice.”

  I sip my drink, making a satisfied sound. I raise an eyebrow at Emma. “What do you think?”

  She puts the straw to her lips, closing her eyes as she samples it. Her eyes snap open, fiercely green.

  “You should bottle this and sell it to sorority girls. You’d sell a million cases, no problem,” she declares.

  Jethro chuckles. “I’m glad that you like it.”

  “Mmm,” she says demurely.

  I slide my hand under the table, gripping Emma’s bare knee. She looks at me, still sipping. There is a naughty sparkle in her eyes. I edge my hand upward, closer to her body.

  This flirting with someone I’m meant to flirt with thing is new for me. It’s a novel experience to bring to an event someone who I respect and whose clothes I want to rip off later.

  Is this what being in an actual relationship is like? If so, it’s not bad.

  Not that Emma and I have made anything official… I glance at her. If Emma has had time to see anyone else though, I would be very surprised. We’ve been inseparable for the last two weeks.

  “Do you serve mainly rum drinks here, then?” Emma asks Jethro.

  Jethro puffs up, launching into what is obviously a carefully practiced speech about why he has a bar that caters to rum lovers. I try not to roll my eyes when he debuts the term proto-tiki. He’s just excited that someone asked him, is all.

  When Jethro gets up to have us try another drink, I lean down to Emma’s ear. “I’m going to do dirty things to you soon. You know that, right?”

  She looks up at me with an expression of amusement
that says bring it on. I sip my drink and put twenty minutes on my mental timer. In twenty minutes, we’ll make our excuses and leave.

  And then the real fun begins.

  19

  Emma

  When we get back to my house, at my door, he’s undressing me even before I get the door unlocked. The second we’re inside, he picks me up and carries me into my bedroom. Jameson sets me down and sits back on my bed.

  He looks me up and down, his gaze dark and piercing. It seems like he sees right into my very soul. I feel almost shy, like I should have worn more than this skimpy dress, but it doesn’t matter. He grabs my hands when I try to cover myself, then pulls me onto his lap.

  “Do you have any idea how fucking hot you are?” he growls into my ear. I moan and shift to straddle his big body, moving closer any way I can.

  I flush hot all over. Straddling him like this, it’s impossible not to feel his hardened cock through his jeans. It feels long and thick and perfect. I get a flash of how good it will feel inside my pussy, stretching me out and making me writhe in ecstasy.

  “Maybe,” I whisper. The air in the room feels too hot on my skin, too heavy.

  “You definitely don’t,” he says, sliding his hand into my hair and bringing me down to meet his lips. I enjoy the little bit of pain as he grips my hair, controlling me.

  I kiss him, enjoying the warmth rising up from his body. He moves down to kiss my neck, which makes me shudder with pleasure. He squeezes one of my breasts, his movements lazy and slow. My body burns for his, the fire spreading first between my breasts and then down between my legs.

  I rock my hips against his, craving his touch. My breasts, my ass, my pussy… they’re all aflame, and his magic touch is the only thing that will soothe the insistent burn. I slide my hand down my belly. He sucks in a breath as my hand creeps down between our bodies.

  “Not so fast,” he says, using his grip on my hair to pull my head back. “I want you to get off my lap and get naked.”

  I bite my lip, pushing off of him. He releases my hair and gets up.