by Tijan
Amie wraps her delicate hands around Deacon’s wrists and takes a step back. He moves forward with her. This is getting awkward. Especially when he grips her wrists in return, as if he’s unwilling, or possibly unable, to let them go.
Lex moves in, but I hold up a hand. She’s had years of self-defense classes, hot yoga, Pilates, and some crazy boxing thing she does to keep her fit and safe. Also, I really want to see how this plays out. It’s too bad Armstrong isn’t here to witness this. I search the room, hoping to spot him, but I can’t find him anywhere. I do, however, spot Brittany flirting with some suits.
It would’ve made my night if Armstrong happened to get punched out by one of Amie’s exes. Well, that and Bancroft fucking me while I’m Catwoman and he’s Batman.
Deacon holds Amie’s hands together in his and takes another step toward her. “You look so beautiful. It’s just so good to smell you again.”
And there it is. The weirdness I’m talking about.
Lex makes a face, as if he’s unsure he heard that correctly.
“See you again. I mean. So good.” He bows his head and brings her knuckles to his lips. I’m pretty sure he licks her, right before he notices the giant rock on her finger.
He snaps up, back ramrod straight. “What is that?”
Amie wipes her hand on her dress. “I’m engaged.” Her voice still has that reedy quality to it.
He blinks rapidly. Disbelieving.
“Do I need to manage this guy?” Bancroft asks me.
Lex steps up beside Amie before Bancroft can make a move, though, and throws his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. She stumbles a bit and has to brace herself with a hand on his chest. Which is bare since he’s dressed as a gladiator. He turns his charming smile on Deacon and holds out his hand. “Hello, I’m Lex, Amalie’s fiancé.”
Amie looks up at him, her expression reflecting both confusion and shock. He bends down and puts his mouth to her ear, whispering something that makes her eyebrows lift even higher, but she gives him the tiniest of nods. What the hell is happening here?
Deacon looks from Amie to Lex and back again. “Her fiancé?”
“Yes. In just a few months she’ll be mine forever.” He turns to Amie, smiling down on her with a convincingly loving gaze and takes her chin between his finger and his thumb. For a second I think he’s actually going to kiss her. Instead he dips his head and brushes the end of his nose across the tip of hers. Amie’s eyes are wide. Her hand is wrapped around his wrist. The one that’s holding her chin.
It occurs to me, as I watch this go down, that those two would actually look incredible together. It’s really too bad she’s set on Armstrong.
Deacon’s expression has gone from confused to angry. “You’re getting married in a few months?”
“I’m sorry, how do you know Amalie?” Lex asks, giving him a full once over.
“We dated,” Deacon snaps.
“Briefly,” Amie adds.
“It wasn’t that brief.” He strokes the square of cloth peeking out of the pouch of his little man satchel. He really committed to the Peter Pan bit. He’s even wearing tights. The square of cloth seems out of place, though, since it’s lace and satin. “How long have you been engaged?”
“That’s irrelevant.” Amie’s hand flutters to her throat.
Deacon’s still stroking the fabric; the satchel is right over his crotch, so it looks a little obscene. “I thought you said you weren’t interested in getting serious with anyone.”
“At the time I wasn’t.”
Deacon scoffs. “So it was just about my cock then.”
Oh my God. Who the hell says that in public? In front someone’s fiancé, of all people. Even if Lex isn’t really Amie’s fiancé, Deacon doesn’t know that. I’m about to speak up when Lex wraps his gloved hand around the back of Deacon’s neck, wearing a jovial smile. From an outsider’s perspective, it could look very much like a normal conversation apart from Deacon’s angry expression and the way Lex’s fingers dig into his skin.
“Listen, buddy, that was fucking rude. You’re making a scene and you’re embarrassing yourself and Amalie. Now would be a good time to walk away, unless you’re interested in a bigger scene and some broken bones.”
Deacon closes his eyes, his expression pinched. He inhales and exhales deeply before his livid gaze finally falls on Amie. “I apologize.”
I breathe a sigh of relief.
Lex loosens his grip on Deacon’s neck and gives him a heavy pat on the shoulder. “Smart move.”
Deacon’s lip twitches. “I’m sure you’ll be very happy together.”
Lex forces a tight smile and puts an arm around her shoulder again, giving her an affectionate squeeze. “I’m positive we will. She’s too lovely not to be.”
Deacon’s smile grows viciously wider. “She certainly is lovely. Especially that sweet, tasty pussy of hers.”
I choke on a cough. Well, this just got X-rated.
“Motherfucker,” Bane steps around me, possibly to take part in what is likely going to be a very public throw down. Poor Amie. She’s too hot for her own good.
Lex has already slapped his palm around the back of the panty-chewing, pussy-loving pervert’s neck again. “You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut, had to have the last word.” He cocks a fist and punches Deacon square in the chest while still holding him by the neck. If Deacon could stumble back, he would. But Lex is keeping him firmly in place.
Amie covers her mouth with a palm, eyes wide with horror.
As entertaining as this is, it’s definitely not the kind of scene we need. This community loves their scandals, and Amie certainly doesn’t need one with her wedding coming up and her fiancé not even present tonight.
Amie glances around to see how many people have noticed. We’re tucked away in a corner, and there’s a huge table with a chocolate fountain blocking most of the view, thank God.
“Lex,” Bane snaps.
Lex must realize that he’s making the problem worse, instead of better. He throws his arm around Deacon and slaps him on the chest a couple of times, laughing, as if he’s told some hilarious joke.
Any attention we’ve drawn abates as the men close the circle, obstructing Lex and Deacon further from view.
“You should apologize to my fiancée, that was disrespectful.” Lex releases Deacon and steps away, raising his hands slightly as he regards Bancroft with an I-did-nothing-wrong look, then turns to Amie. “Why don’t you give me the rundown before the auction starts, sweetheart?”
She still looks a little shocked by the whole thing.
Snapping out of her daze she straightens. “Yes. Yes, that would be a good idea.”
Lex takes a step toward her, kicking something on the floor. He snatches it up, frowning as he inspects it. I recognize it as the little fabric square that had been peeking out of Deacon’s man satchel.
Except it’s not a pocket square. It’s a pair of panties.
Chapter 11: Dear Lord
Amie
Deacon makes a grab for the fabric square in Lex’s hand. A square I recognize as a pair of panties he gnawed the crotch out of and subsequently stole. He’s the creepiest of creepy.
I snatch the scrap of fabric from Lex before Deacon can. I’m sure he already knows what they are. Undoubtedly he’s seen many pairs of lacy, satin panties up close and personal. At least those are the rumors.
“Those are mine!” Deacon shouts.
I get right up in Deacon’s face. “These are mine, you creepy, perverted bastard. I didn’t want to date you because you do bizarre things like carry around pairs of old, chewed-up panties.” I whirl around, hike up my giant, stupid skirt, and grab Lex by the elbow before he can punch my ex in the face. “Come on, Lex. Let’s go sell you to the highest bidder.”
“You have interesting taste in guys.”
“He was one of the better ones, if you can believe it,” I mutter.
Lex barks out a laugh. “You’re just f
ull of fun surprises, aren’t you, Cinderella.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” It’s actually probably a blessing that Armstrong isn’t here, otherwise I’d have to explain this insanity.
Ruby rushes to catch up. She slips her arm through mine. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know.” I’m scanning the room as we go. “God, how mortifying was that? I shouldn’t have said anything about the damn panties. I made a scene. What if people noticed? What if it gets back to Gwendolyn?”
“No one noticed. You’re fine. It’s fine. Bane is going to make sure he leaves right now,” she reassures me as we pass through the curtains that lead backstage.
Why the hell did Deacon, of all my short-term hook-ups, have to show up here? This is the exact reason I’ve generally avoided dating people who run in the same circles as I do—they all know each other. And they all gossip like thirteen-year-old girls at a sleepover.
“What if Deacon says something to someone? What if he does something else to embarrass me—” I spin around, ready to go back, but I slam right into a bare chest. Lex’s bare chest. He grabs my arms to steady me.
“Bane’s got it. You’re good. He’s not going to make another scene.”
“I don’t understand why the hell he was here in the first place!” I throw my hands up and lose my grip on the panties. They fly into the air and Lex manages to nab them before I can.
They were a great pair of panties once, before the crotch went missing. Pale blue with navy lace accents; sexy, classy, a little naughty. With the matching bra and garters I looked pretty damn fantastic.
He raises a brow as he fingers the material. “Nice.”
I can feel my face going red. “Thanks. I’ll take those back now, since they’re mine and all.”
“There’s a hole in them.” He slides two fingers through the tear.
Oh my God. This is not happening. My best friend’s boyfriend’s brother is not sticking his fingers through a hole in a pair of my old panties. “I’m aware,” I barely choke out the words.
“It looks like they’ve been chewed.”
“That’s because they have.”
His furrow deepens. “Does he have a dog or something?”
“No.” Dear lord. This is seriously the worst conversation I’ve ever had to have. Well, maybe not. That time when I had to explain to my father why I was being held for questioning at the airport in Mexico was worse, and at least I’m not having this conversation with Armstrong. Not that this is much better, mind you. I’m sure I’m making one hell of an impression right now.
“You’re a bit of a wild one, aren’t you?” Lex’s eyebrows lift, a wide smile breaks across his face and I wait for the next question, because I know it’s coming, in three, two, one . . . “Wait, are these dirty?”
And there it is. I literally have to fight with my mouth not to smile back at him. “I believe they are, yes.”
“You think I should check, just to make sure?” He starts to lift them to his nose.
Ruby jumps in and snatches them from him, but his fingers are still stuck in the hole, which tears more as she yanks them out of his grasp and tosses them to me. She points a finger in his face. “That’s just fucking gross. He’s probably had those for a year. I bet he jerked off with them.”
Lex makes a gagging sound, then turns to me, looking concerned. “Is he a serial killer? Do you need someone to escort you home tonight?”
“I sincerely doubt it. He faints at the sight of blood.”
“That guy’s a whack job.”
“Uh-huh. I sincerely appreciate you posing as my fiancé and punching him.”
“Anytime you need me to punch out an ex, or even your current fiancé, you just let me know and I’m there.” He winks, but I have a feeling he might be serious about my current fiancé.
“Okay, well,” Ruby claps her hands together. “I think you’re channeling the spirit of gladiator perfectly tonight, Lex. Keep that up when you’re on the stage so we can make some serious money off of you.”
Gwendolyn comes rushing backstage, looking as if her head is going to explode. “Amalie! There you are! You won’t believe what just happened. Some man dressed as Peter Pan was in the foyer, screaming about having his panties stolen. Can you even believe it? Bancroft is escorting him off the property. I don’t even know how he managed to get on the guest list.”
Ruby and I give each other a look. Of all the nights for Armstrong to miss a party, this is definitely a good one.
Chapter 12: Costume Malfunction
Ruby
Gwendolyn has forced Amie to come up on stage with her to help auction off the men. I’ve been relegated to backstage duty—Gwendolyn thinks my costume is too suggestive. Those weren’t her exact words, but her twitchy face and her pinched lips were a significant enough tell, along with her tone when she called my costume inappropriate.
Amie is not a huge fan of being in front of hundreds of people unless it’s associated with presenting in a boardroom. Apparently when there are slides and a presentation it’s a lot different. I suppose that makes sense. This is unstructured.
My job is to make sure the guys are prepared, look dapper—or in Lex’s case, hot enough to cause women to succumb to the vapors—and make it out on stage for their auction slot. It’s pretty easy. So far we’ve managed to raise more than a hundred and forty thousand dollars and we still have two bachelors to go. One of them is Wentworth Williams. He once flirted with me at a party back when Bancroft and I were yet to be defined and I was only his pet sitter, not his live-in girlfriend.
The first time I met Wentworth, within an hour he intimated that he wanted to get naked with me. He’s been well-behaved this evening, perhaps because Lex is right here, and Wentworth is aware that I’m living with Bancroft. He’s been ultra-polite.
Lex is looking at his phone when something else catches his attention. He frowns, his stance becoming defensive. Dear God, the panty chewer better not be back. The curtains part and Bancroft comes through, dressed as Batman.
Lex’s posture relaxes immediately and he directs his smirk at me. “You have to be responsible for that.”
I grin. “Totally.”
“You take care of that guy?” Lex asks Bane.
“Oh, yeah. He’s gone.” Bancroft nods to Wentworth and slips an arm around my waist. It’s an intentionally possessive move. Especially when he kisses my temple and pulls me into his side. “That guy’s a little obsessed, huh? A bit of a nutbar? Is he from Amie’s anarchy days?”
“Anarchy days?” Lex’s grin widens.
I wave a hand around, as if it’s not important. “She was a bit of a wild child. Anyway, that guy chews holes in panties, and he’s a little unhinged. I think that’s about as much as you all need to know.” It’s really not my story to tell, especially in front of Lex. Maybe later, when I’m alone with Bane and we’re not having sex, I’ll tell him about that brief, weird relationship.
“I’ll just leave that one alone, then.”
“That’s probably for the best.” I run my hand over his chest. His broad, Lycra-covered chest. I can’t wait until we’re up in our room and having superhero sex.
A round of applause makes it difficult to hear Lex’s question and a few moments later Wentworth is being called to the stage. I don’t adjust his tie like I have everyone else, because there’s no way Bane is going to let go of me to make that happen. Also, his hand is wandering and I can feel his hard-on against my hip.
Once Wentworth disappears through the curtains Lex looks up from his phone. “You two don’t need to babysit me, I’ve done this a bunch of times. I know the drill. Go get a drink.” He motions to the curtains leading to the stage. “This’ll take a while, anyway.”
I’m starting to get hot in this costume. A drink would be great. “Can I get you anything?”
He shakes his empty glass. “Scotch and soda would be good.”
I nab it from him. “I’ll be back in a few.”
&
nbsp; “Take your time.” He glances at his phone again.
I head for the stairs, but before I get too far, fingers wrap around my wrist and I’m pulled back into a hard wall of muscle. Bancroft’s cape flutters around me, caging me in. Picking me up, he takes me in the opposite direction of the bar, and back behind the stage.
“What’re you doing?” I whisper hiss.
“This costume is killing me,” he mutters.
“Like you’re uncomfortable?” I can’t see how that’s possible; his costume is the softest, stretchiest fabric in the world. Warm maybe, because Lycra isn’t known for being super breathable.
I’m dangling about six inches above the floor, my back pressed to his front. He shifts his hips so I can feel his hard-on. “No. You’re making my balls ache. I need to take the edge off.”
“But we’re supposed to get a drink for Lex.”
“Lex can get his own drink. We’ll be quick.” He heads toward the closest door. Pushing it open, he hits the light. It’s a supply closet. “This’ll have to do.”
It closes behind us and he sets me down, flipping the lock before he pushes me up against the wall and crushes his mouth to mine. Well, I guess I know how he feels about the Catwoman costume. Grinding against me, he strips off his gloves and runs his hands over my shiny black cat suit, groping my breasts, sliding them over my hips, and cupping them between my legs. Tearing his mouth away he exhales a harsh breath. “Fuck, you’re so hot. Why is this so hot? Motherfucker.”
He groans when I palm him through his Batman suit, then slip my hand into the secret pocket and wrestle him free. He wasn’t kidding about this costume driving him nuts; he’s rock solid. His cock kicks in my hand as I run my thumb over the head. My nails are painted red.
He takes my face in his hands, tilts my head back and his mouth is on mine again, tongue forcing its way past my lips, each stroke hot and aggressive. Exactly the way he’s pumping into my hand.
“I want inside you.” His hands move down my sides and he grabs my ass, the other coming around to slip between my thighs. “How do I get into this?”