"Ouch!" I cried.
Harris exploded with laughter. I scrambled off his lap and snatched my towel up, but not before I felt his hardness twitching from his groin beneath me. "You'll pay for this, Harris!" I threatened eyes narrowed.
“Oh, I think you guys are going to get used to Daddy Alpha on this trip,” he laughed some more, making knowing eye contact with Maddie as he did. She must have told him what name she used for him. I wondered how he felt about that. Still, I was angry and embarrassed. Alien territory will do that to you.
Behind me, Maddie tittered. I whirled around and gave her a look.
"You have to admit—it's kind of funny--" she giggled.
I slammed myself into the bathroom and took a long, luxurious shower. For revenge, I used up every single tiny bottle of shampoo, conditioner, body wash and lotion. By the time I was finished, I was happy, relaxed, and I smelled freaking awesome.
* * *
When Harris told us where we were going for dinner, I forgave him for the spanking: Gabriele's, the five-star Italian bistro that was locally famous for celebrity-spotting. His boss, the one he was hoping would promote him to vice-president of the company, had apparently invited all four of us.
Maddie clasped her hands together excitedly. "I heard that Rihanna was there last week!"
"And I heard they serve free limoncello shots!" I added.
"Mr. Lanegan's sending a car in twenty minutes," warned Harris. "So let's get this show on the road."
I put on my favorite dress: white cotton, short-short, fringes, low-cut as all get-out. If there were the merest gust of wind, I'd be in trouble. A pair of tall gladiator sandals completed my sexy ensemble. Maddie wore an adorable, pale blue, fitted dress with puffed sleeves and a tiny bow at the waist. Her bright blue spike heels added at least three inches to her height. Even Harris was impressed with how well we cleaned up.
My step-father didn't look half-bad himself. He wore a tailored khaki-colored linen suit and a blue gingham shirt with an open collar. His brown Italian shoes were gorgeous. A blue silk square peeked out of his pocket. His black hair was combed back in a way that looked both neat and roguish. Maddie couldn't stop staring at him.
"Stop staring at Harris!" I whispered to her as we climbed into the back of the car that Harris's boss had sent to pick us up.
"I'm not staring!" she whispered back. "I'm—looking."
When the car pulled up in front of the restaurant, Harris hopped out and held the door open for us, taking us each by the hand as we stepped out onto the pavement. We were right by the ocean, and a warm breeze fluttered my dress and my hair. I felt gorgeous. Tonight, I thought, was going to be special.
We stepped into the warmly lit lobby filled with trees and vines. One wall was a stained-glass mural depicting a Venetian canal scene, lit from the other side. Harris whispered something to the maitre-d, who led us into the dining room. The tables were covered in thick linen table cloths and lit with stout pillar candles; the effect was of intimacy and luxury. Mads and I looked at each other and grinned.
When we reached our table, a tall, elegant man stood up to greet us. I was bowled over: I had expected a fat, cigar-chomping older guy, but Harris's boss could have passed for a male model. His wavy, light-brown hair was just a little long, tucked behind his ears. He wore a remarkable, slim-fitting, double-breasted white suit, the likes of which I had never seen in New Jersey—I suspected such a suit would have self-destructed the minute it stepped over the Mason-Dixon line. He hadn't shaved in a day or two, and he had slightly narrowed, hazel eyes. Well, I felt like someone had slapped me with a stupid stick. I just stared; I couldn't say a thing, even when Harris introduced me.
"Mills, this is my boss, Mr. Jackson Lanegan. Mr. Lanegan, my step-daughter Millicent."
"Call me Jackson," he said, holding out his hand. I managed to grip it with the tips of my fingers. "Does she talk?" he asked with a smile. He was openly addressing Harris, but he hadn't taken his eyes off me.
"All too much," said Harris. "Just wait till she warms up."
He dragged his eyes away from me and turned to Mads. "And who's this sweet little package?"
Personally, I wouldn't have called Maddie little, but whatever.
After all the introductions were complete, we sat at the table, which was situated by the window. Boats were docked, and they bobbed gently in the rippling water. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, and everything was bathed in a golden light.
"Do you two like boats?" Jackson asked us, unfolding his napkin onto his lap.
"I do," I said. "Mads gets sick."
"Only a little sick," she said, defensively.
"Well, depending on how long you're here, maybe you'd like to go for a ride on my yacht. She's pretty steady in the water."
"That would be glorious," said Maddie, banging her foot against my leg. "Let's go tomorrow!"
Jackson laughed. "Well, unfortunately, Harris and I have meetings all day tomorrow. But I bet we could find some time later in the week."
All was silent while we examined our menus. I decided I was going to order a sophisticated cocktail. My eyes glazed over all the other items on the menu as I imagined the fancy concoction I'd drink, and how cool I would look, sipping it, laughing at Jackson's anecdotes, touching his white jacket sleeve...
"And the young lady will have?" said a waiter, popping up out of literally nowhere. He was staring right at me, pen poised over his pad.
"Campari and soda," I said promptly.
"And for dinner?"
"Um," I said, grabbing the menu. "What is there?"
Everyone laughed. I blushed.
"I'll just have what First,'s having," I said, looking at Jackson.
"Very well," said the waiter, moving on.
I felt like a fool. But I did successfully order a cocktail. Very adult of me.
The conversation was a little bit awkward until the drinks arrived; Harris and Jackson got caught up on mutual acquaintances and personnel changes in their company. Lanegan Smith Services seemed to be involved with a lot of different things having to do with money: investments, insurance, accounting. Harris always said he was a financial analyst when someone asked, but what did that even mean? All I knew for certain was that he was up for a very cushy job as vice-president of operations at the Jersey City office, which would mean a massive increase in salary plus lots of benefits, including a company car and bonuses.
Suddenly, it seemed a bit odd that Harris would invite Maddie and me to this dinner, which was clearly super-important to him. Why bring a couple of girls in their college freshman year to a dinner that might determine the future of his entire career?
Mads was playing with her napkin, looking slightly bored. I decided we needed a private conference.
"Let's go powder our noses," I said to her. Mads scrambled up out of her seat, and I hustled her off to the ladies' room.
The ladies' room was super-luxe: it looked like it was carved out of a cave and was lit with candles. Water poured out the wall into small stone pools. Soft music seemed to come from every direction.
"Holy crap," said Maddie.
We leaned over one of the deep stone sinks and examined our noses. They didn't really need any powder, of course.
"Tell me why you think we're here," I demanded.
"In the restroom?"
"No, silly. Out with Harris. He's trying to impress his boss, right? So why bring us?"
"We're cute?" ventured Mads. She fiddled with her bangs in the mirror, but there was no fixing them. One side insisted on curling up like a bad carpet; the other side was too short.
"We're damned cute," I said. "But how's that going to help Harris get a promotion?"
Mads gave up on her bangs and frowned at the mirror. "Are you suggesting we might be...getting into something?"
"I'm talking about S. E. X."
Mads's eyes widened. "I hope so!" she whispered gleefully.
As we headed back to the table, I noticed Harris
and Jackson had their backs to us. I gestured to Maddie to slow down, so we could sneak up on them and hear what they were talking about.
"Skinny dipping?" Jackson was saying. "Sounds like my kind of girl!"
"And how about the tits on the brunette?" enquired Harris.
"Oh, yeah!" nodded Jackson.
I coughed loudly, and we slipped into our seats. I could tell by the slightly embarrassed looks on their faces that the guys weren't sure if we'd overheard them or not.
My Campari and soda had arrived while we were in the restroom. It was kind of weird: sweet and bitter at the same time, but after a few sips, I realized I loved it. I also realized it was going to my head. I found myself talking—a lot. Until the food came. I then I was once again struck dumb.
Placed in front of me was a large platter with a small black tornado lying on it. Splashed around the platter was a golden sauce, and lying in the pools of sauce were...tentacles.
"What the what?" I exclaimed, and looked at Jackson, who had the same dish in front of him. "Cuffie al nero de sepia," he grinned. "That is, squid ink pasta with saffron ragout and grilled octopus."
"Dear Lord," I said. "It's like, Goth food."
"Squid ink pasta is a well-known aphrodisiac," said Harris, professor like.
"Well, then. Down the hatch, I guess!"
I jealously eyed Maddie's plate, which had a nice little sirloin on it. She looked at me smugly. "Mmmmm," she said, taking a bite.
I managed to eat most of the pasta and some of the sauce, but I honestly couldn't face the tentacles. I couldn't help but imagine it would be like eating someone's fingers. I noticed that Jackson had no trouble with his, though. "You want mine?" I asked.
"Sure!" he said, and leaned toward me, putting one arm around the back of my chair while he stabbed the tentacles with his fork. His face was about three inches from mine. It was all I could do to not to lick it. His cologne was amazing.
Suddenly, he turned and caught my face in his free hand, and, very gently, pressed his mouth to mine. I froze. His stubble brushed my chin, and goosebumps rose up and down my arms.
"Just a little thank-you kiss," he said. As if it was nothing.
* * *
By the end of the evening, the three of us had been invited to a cookout at Jackson's penthouse condominium for the next night. "You'll love the view from the roof," he said. "It's why I bought the place. That and the outdoor jacuzzi. So, yeah, don't forget your swimsuits." He winked at me.
Back at the hotel room, the three of us changed, showered, watched a terrible TV, and collapsed into bed. I slept so hard I didn't even hear Harris snore, and woke up to find sunlight streaming into the room. I tried to get up and shut the curtains—it seemed really early still—but found I couldn't move: a warm, slightly sweaty, sweetly asleep Maddie was spooning me, one leg was thrown over mine, one arm around my ribcage. Her sleeping hand cupped my tit. It was nice, so I just closed my eyes and went back to sleep.
Later that day, Mads and I went shopping while Harris went to his company headquarters for meetings. My step-dad had given us his credit card, telling us not to "go crazy" but, lucky for us, not precisely defining what he meant by "crazy." We got shoes, shorts, tee-shirts, a huge lunch, slushies, a shell necklace (me) and a pair of squirrel earrings (Mads). Also, sunburns. We were napping back at the hotel when a sharp rap on the door woke us up.
"I'm here from Mr. Lanegan," said a voice. "Here to pick up Miss Maddie and Miss Millicent?"
I jumped off the bed and looked through the little spy hole in the room door. A man in a chauffeur's outfit and hat stood there, his head distorted and enlarged by the lens of the spy hole.
"Can you give us...ten minutes?" I asked.
"Most certainly. I'll be in the lobby."
A frantic fifteen minutes later and we were dressed, made up, and ready for anything. And a half hour later, we were sitting in the sun, sipping some kind of alcoholic lemonade and eating fabulous little hors d'oeuvres off of toothpicks. Jackson's rooftop garden was enormous, like his own private city block. Potted lemon, orange, and fig trees shot up from huge urns that lined a twisting walkway, and huge blue-striped umbrellas provided cooling shade. Two different maids brought up trays from the apartment below, bearing fruit, shrimp, tiny hot dogs, and more drinks.
But most amazing was the jacuzzi. A perfect turquoise circle, it was sunk into the cedar boards of the deck that covered half the roof. It was bright and glassy when we got there, as gorgeous as a jewel. It beckoned me. I wouldn't have been able to take my eyes off it if Harris and Jackson hadn't been there, too, tanned and shirtless. Harris was paler than Jackson, naturally, but they were both pretty amazing: Jackson was taller, but a little more wiry, and Harris was more muscular. They both wore shorts that were a little large so that a tiny slice of their boxers showed. It was almost too much for my poor eyes to take in.
One thing that surprised me: Jackson had a tattoo, an amazing drawing of the full moon on his right shoulder blade. I asked him about it.
"Well," he said. "I'm a night owl, for one thing. And I'm drawn to the darker side of life."
"I wouldn't have guessed that," I said. "This being the land of sun, and all."
"Which is why I have the tattoo: to remind myself of who I am."
Good lord, I thought. He's deep, too.
I was almost finished with my second drink and feeling fine when Jackson's phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned at it. "Damn it; I'm going to have to take this. Harris, would you come downstairs with me? Girls, go ahead and get in the jacuzzi. We'll join you when we get back. Kind of a conference call thing. We won't be long." He flipped a switch on the wall, and the jacuzzi water began to churn a little and ripple.
"Yay!" said Maddie, hopping up. "I've been dying to get in!"
The guys went downstairs, and Maddie disappeared into the cabana to change. We were on top of the tallest building around. No one was going to see me, so I just pulled my bikini out of my bag and changed right there. I was ready and raring to go when Mads emerged from the cabana.
"You really are an exhibitionist, aren't you?" she said, shaking her head.
I just smiled sweetly and climbed into the jacuzzi.
It was the perfect temperature—not hot, but just warm enough to be comfortable yet still refreshing. It was better than a pool because all the water was moving at the same time, rippling over all of my skin. It felt like thousands of gentle fingers caressing me. "Oh, Mads," I said, closing my eyes. "This is...incredible."
Maddie took her usual time getting in but was soon sitting opposite me. She looked adorable: her bangs were standing straight up, and her boobs were bursting out the top of her swimsuit. "Oh, my God, Mills. There's a jet of water shooting right at my ass-crack. It feels amazing."
I scooched around the jacuzzi until I found a water jet of my own. I let it pulse into my ass-crack, and it did, indeed, feel amazing. I realized that if I took off my bikini bottoms, it would feel even better. So I slipped them off and let them float around the jacuzzi. Ahh. The ledge I was sitting on beneath the water was smooth and silky as glass. I leaned over a bit to let the water jet hit my ass at just the right angle. The throbbing pulse of the water against my butthole sent delicious thrills through my whole body.
"Why are jacuzzis not required items in every new home?" mused Mads. "I mean, every house has a microwave, but nothing that will shoot water at your butthole? What kind of country do we live in?"
"Cunt-try," I said, being my usual, automatically perverse self, but of course, it gave me an idea. "Geez, let's try the other way."
I turned around, spreading my knees as wide as they would go, and put my pussy into the water jet's line of fire. Oh. Oh.
"This is--" I gasped, "--fucking beautiful."
Mads had no answer; she was just breathing hard. Then she turned around too, and the two of us moaned and pushed our cunts as near as we could get them to the water jets.
Sometime during this episode th
e two maids, Maya and Celine, picked up the hors d'oeuvres trays and disappeared with them, not to be seen again for the rest of the evening. I figured they had probably seen much worse happening around here and felt no need to stop our escapade.
I was rubbing my pussy around on the glass ledge under the water when I happened to glance down, through the water. To my amazement, I saw two vaguely human shapes down below. All at once I figured it out: the bottom of the jacuzzi, including the ledge we were sitting on, was made of glass. People in the penthouse below could look up at what was their ceiling, and see whatever was going in the jacuzzi on the roof. Those human shapes were Harris and Jackson, watching us. For the briefest moment, I felt like a penguin at the zoo. But then I was totally turned on. I would, I decided, give them a show.
First, I pulled off my top, tossing it onto the cedar deck, then I swam across the pool toward Maddie. She had her swimsuit on, but I very gently unhooked the back and peeled it off her. She let me. Then, both of us totally naked, I wrapped my arms around her from the back. I held her tits in my hands, imagining that they were mine. How cool it would be to have such huge tits! I felt them, gently squeezing the nipples, laying my head on Maddie's shoulder. She was still somewhat preoccupied with the water jetting into her pussy, but she responded to my touch with a moan and a shiver. I loved the way her tits floated a little bit in the in the water. I ran my hands up and down them, from her soft belly up to the hard little nipples and down again. "Turn around," I whispered into her ear.
She did, wrapping her legs around my waist. Her pussy was up against mine, and her tits touched mine, too. We kissed, long and slow. Thinking about the men watching from below aroused me, so I took Mads's fingers and guided them to my cunt. Her fingers felt along the folds there until she found my clit, which was hard and ticklish, and brushed against it ever-so-gently. Oh, it felt unbearably good! I whimpered, reaching for her tits again, rubbing my fingers in slow circles around her nipples. Our heads were bent to each other's shoulders, but at the same time, we had the urge to raise our faces and kiss. We plunged our tongues into each other's mouths, filling them deliciously.
She Bites (A Paranormal Dark Erotica Series Book 1) Page 15