Vested Interest

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Vested Interest Page 7

by Bethany Jadin


  No, this time I’m the belle of the ball, but I’m not handling it with much grace. I’m letting all their attention go to my head… and other places.

  The temperature of the water is just right, but now I’m wondering why I turned it on to begin with, because I haven’t used the bathroom, and I don’t need to — but I do need to get my head on right. I twist the handle off and look up to see Cora exiting one of the stalls behind me.

  “Emma!” she says with a big, friendly smile. “Mind if I scrunch in there?”

  Guilt washes over me, even though I hadn’t intended to flirt with her date. “Of course, all yours.”

  Cora is obviously having a great time. She’s beaming like it’s her birthday. “You should come join us on the dancefloor. Gunner’s actually a great dancer, promise.”

  God, why can’t I think of something to say? I flash her a nervous smile. “It looks like you guys are having fun. Trigg just brought me a drink, but maybe when I’ve finished it I’ll come dance some more.”

  She smiles at me in the mirror. “Trigg’s such a sweetheart, isn’t he?”

  Through the mirror, I see my cheeks turning pink, so I look down, pretending to casually pick lint off my black dress. “Yeah, he seems great. How did you guys meet?”

  She turns off the water and moves to the automatic hand dryer. “Oh, I met him through Jax about five years ago.”

  Now I’m really feeling horrid. “Wow, you’ve been together that long?”

  She pauses in rubbing her hands together and looks up at me. “Oh, no, no, we’re not together. No, Callie and I are just friends with the guys. They’re total bachelors. They just need dates for business events and stuff like tonight, and we help them out.”

  Oh, thank God. My recent opinion of Trigg reverses course as relief floods through me, and now warmth is suffusing my hand where his fingers touched mine. “They seem like decent guys.”

  Cora steps away from the dryer, relinquishing it to the next in line. “They really are. Callie and I got lucky with that.”

  I cock my head. “You mean because of the arrangement you guys have?”

  “No. Well, yeah, they’re a bunch of fun, but when we met—” she pauses to let out a giggle “—we were really freaked out at the time, although now it’s a funny story.”

  She has me intrigued and hovering close for more as we shuffle out of the restroom and back into the flashing lights and blaring music of the dance club. I practically have to shout. “Do tell.”

  Cora holds onto my arm with both hands as we navigate through the crowd, leaning in with a friendly familiarity so she can keep her voice low. “Okay, so my sister and I were on our way back from a girl’s weekend. We shared this old beater of a car back then, and we knew we were pushing it when we took it on that trip, but whaddya do, you know? We’d almost made it home, coming back into the city through Woodside — you know how rough it is through that section, right?”

  I nod. It’s the part of town where I always make sure my windows are rolled up and the doors locked tight.

  “Well, we broke down. Right in the middle of the roughest damn stretch. Everywhere we could see, it was all potholes and boarded up shops and sketchy as fuck guys milling around on the corner, just staring at us.”

  “Oooh, that doesn’t sound good.”

  She shakes her head. “It wasn’t. Like, we didn’t even want to get out of the car, much less open the hood and turn our backs to these guys.”

  A little shiver runs through me as I picture it. “Ugh, I don’t blame you.”

  Cora walks slow, giving herself time to finish the story before we make it back to the table. “So, we’re trying to decide who to call to come help when this loud-ass Harley roars up behind us. The engine cuts off, and we look around and sure enough, there’s this leather-chaps-wearing, muscular dude walking up to the car, tattoos all over his arms, and this big, bushy beard.”

  “Oh, shit!”

  She nods solemnly. “That was our thought exactly. Callie starts dialing 9-1-1, but then he bends down to my window, and he has the most beautiful blue eyes, I mean just stunning — well, you’ve seen Jax, so you know.”

  I turn to her to see if she’s serious. “This was Jax? The guy at the table with the five-thousand-dollar suit on?”

  Cora laughs, delighted. “Yeah, him.”

  “Wait. Jax used to have a beard?”

  She holds her hand out a couple inches from her chin, cupping it. “Big. So, he says—” Cora lowers her voice “—sit tight, I’ll take care of you. We hear him make a call, and then he tells us his buddies are on the way. We’re totally freaking out at this point.”

  “I’d be having kittens. Litters of kittens.”

  “Right? We’re expecting this cut-throat biker gang to arrive with the flames of hell trailing behind them, you know? Callie’s trying to convince me we should call the cops before it’s too late, but those eyes... Anyway, we’re arguing about what to do when a shiny Mercedes pulls over behind the Harley, and out steps Daniel in a slick-ass suit and dark sunglasses, looking all old country Italian. We’re like… oh fuck, he’s the drug kingpin.”

  I laugh, picturing Daniel with his refined mannerisms standing next to a leather-wearing, bearded Jax. “I wish I could have seen that.”

  She giggles. “Oh yeah, it was quite the image. I can laugh now, but at the time, I wouldn’t have wished anyone to be us. I mean, our imaginations were just going wild. I was certain we were screwed six ways to Sunday. Callie’s going on about the Russian mafia and how we’re about to get sold as sex slaves, when a mud-covered jeep rolls up in front of us, and Gunner hops out dressed in camo with big, ass kicker boots and nods to the other guys. He tells me to pop the hood, and I’m thinking they’re going to make sure the car is really disabled, but I’m so scared, I do it, and all three of them start poking around with the engine. We’re confused as hell and sitting there like what is happening?”

  Our table is just around the corner, so I come to a stop, engrossed and wanting to hear the end. “Did they get your car fixed?”

  Cora shrugs. “It’d thrown a rod, so they had it towed to a garage, and Daniel took us to a rental car place. When we went to pick up our old beater at the end of the week, we found out they’d already taken care of the repair bill. The guys have all been so kind to us. So, whenever they need our help, we’re there.”

  I peer around the corner and see Trigg and Jax still at the booth, talking amiably among themselves. I turn back to Cora. “But you guys aren’t dating any of them?”

  Cora shakes her head vehemently. “Oh, God no. They’re like brothers, and we have boyfriends. No, it’s never been like that.”

  “Oh?” Now she really has my attention. Five sexy guys, and neither she nor Callie want anything more than friendship? “Are there red flags I should know about?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Cora says slowly, looking at me with a puzzled expression, and then an understanding sinks in, and she raises her eyebrows. “Oh. You mean personally, not professionally.”

  I open my mouth to say she’s misunderstood, but the words don’t come out. It dawns on me that my motivations for asking aren’t purely business related. Smooth, Emma. So much for subtly. I feel like a kid caught red-handed sneaking treats from the cookie jar.

  She notices the deer-in-the-headlights look on my face and puts her hand on my arm reassuringly. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything to them.”

  All I can muster is a nod, but fortunately she doesn’t linger on my awkwardness.

  “They’re good guys,” she continues. “But… they’re pretty consumed with their business. Plus, sorry to say, but good luck to any girl who wanted to date one of them.”

  Oh, hell. That doesn’t sound good. “Why’s that?”

  She waves her hand through the air. “You see them all here tonight, right? It’s always like this. Those guys are inseparable. Wherever one is, the rest are nearby. Can you imagine trying to date a guy if his four best
friends were always around?”

  “Ah, I see. It does seem like they’re pretty tight.” Despite Cora’s warning, I can’t help but think it sounds nice, to be part of such a close-knit group. As an only child, I could have used some big brothers, especially in middle school and during high school, when being a lanky, braces-wearing geek didn’t exactly garner much positive attention.

  Cora nods. “I don’t know if it’s from being in crazy situations together during the military or what, but they’re a solid unit.”

  “I’m glad they were there for you and Callie when you needed it. And that you didn’t get sold to the Russian mafia.”

  Cora laughs and gives my arm a squeeze. “Me, too.” She jerks her thumb at the throng of bodies on the dancefloor. “Hey, are you coming to join us? Wanna give Gunner a chance to redeem himself?”

  I glance around the corner again, and Trigg looks up just as I do. He catches my eye, that look of concern still on his face. “Maybe in a little while. I’m going to finish my Cosmo first.”

  Cora gives me a grin before backing toward the dancefloor. “Good. You’ll need it. These guys can be a handful, especially Gunner.”

  As I make my way back to my seat, I notice how Trigg’s brow is creased as he hurriedly moves out of the booth, opening the way for me to slide in and claim my spot between him and Jax.

  I take a sip of my Cosmo before Trigg leans toward me. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Daniel calls me Mr. Touch Everything. It’s true. You know how people are huggers? That’s me. I don’t want you to think I was being presumptuous.”

  I don’t want him to feel bad for even a moment, especially since I was enjoying his attention earlier and it was I who was presumptuous. “It’s okay, Trigg. You just took me by surprise.” I swallow and decide to just be out with it. “But, it was nice.”

  There’s a butter melting smoothness in his voice. “Nice?”

  My insides flutter, and I dart my gaze up to him before I decide he’s looking at me too intensely, so I avert my attention to where my fingers spin the stem of my glass. The silence builds. Jax, to my left, isn’t the issue. I like his kind of silence. I can wrap it around me like a strong, quiet blanket and just sit in comfort.

  But there’s an air of anticipation with Trigg. I know he’s waiting for me to say something or give him some sign, permission to continue with the direction things were headed before I left the booth.

  I look out at Daniel, Jude, and Gunner dancing with Cora and Callie. They really do look like one big, happy family. Carefree. And yes, now that I watch with newly informed eyes, I have to admit there is nothing sexual going on there with the girls. It’s totally platonic — they’re just friends having a good time. So am I, even if I’m not sure where my place is yet, other than potential software purveyor. The practical side of me knows I should stay firmly in the business acquaintance camp, but friends would be nice… maybe more, if I’m being really honest about the fantastical thoughts I have every time I’m around these guys.

  I turn back to Trigg, giving him the most easy-going smile I can muster. “Yeah, it was nice. I’m having a good time.”

  Something in the air between us gives, and the tension changes. Trigg leans over the table, maybe to mask his sideways motion that brings his leg closer to mine. His fingers slip off his thigh and onto my knee. “I’m having a good time, too, Emma. Are you ready to go dance?”

  I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m pretty damned comfortable exactly where I am, nestled between Jax and Trigg. “Not yet. I think I’m good to stay right here, for now.”

  Trigg lowers to a whisper. “I’m happy to stay here, too.”

  His palm flattens against my skin, and I have to resist the urge to move my legs apart, inviting his touch to continue past my knee and up my inner thigh. Maybe it’s the pulsating lights, but the visions keep flashing through my head. Me, reclined back against Trigg’s bare chest, his hands on my hips as Gunner makes love to me. Daniel’s teeth grazing at my nipple, making me moan. Jax capturing my lips with his. Jude’s firm hands sliding across my skin.

  It’s a fantasy, but a beautiful one. The soothing buzz of my drink settles in, and I relax a little. Maybe just for tonight, I’ll let myself daydream as much as I want.

  11

  Emma

  Trigg rubs my bare knee with slow, firm sweeps of his thumb while the rest of his fingers brush my skin gently. A warmth builds between my legs. My breathing deepens, and I’m not sure if I should reciprocate his advances or keep my hands on the table where everyone can see them.

  “Sure you don’t want to go out there?” he asks. “Jax will probably hang here, but I can join you. Ever dance with four men at once?”

  Only in my dreams, and only lately. I manage to shake my head. “That’s not my kind of thing.”

  “Can’t knock it until you try it.”

  I know the visions playing in my head are just fantasies. Reality is a whole different story. “I’m not into drama.”

  He tilts his chin up, confusion in his eyes. “Why would there be drama?”

  I down a gulp of my Cosmo, needing a moment. It occurs to me he probably didn’t mean anything like what popped into my head. And now I’ve backed myself into a corner. Explaining what I meant by drama means admitting to the sort of images that have been playing through my mind tonight.

  Trigg hasn’t stopped his attentions while awaiting my reply. He goes further, dipping to my inner thigh. “We don’t do drama. You may be surprised how well we share.”

  I almost choke on the last swallow of my Cosmo at the word ‘share’. Maybe he does mean what I was thinking. The idea sets me off, and the vivid images flood into my mind’s eye again… and the warmth floods between my legs, too. I can feel just how wet I’m becoming.

  As if Trigg’s fingers rubbing my leg weren’t enough to stir the embers smoldering inside me, Jax lays his hand on my wrist. “This is a beautiful bracelet. It looks handmade.”

  My martini glass empty, I swallow a couple times on a dry throat, trying to bring in air. I glance at Jax, but it doesn’t seem he is aware of what Trigg is doing under the table. “It is. I found it on Etsy,” I manage to say in an even voice. “I have a few pieces from the same woman. She’s very good.”

  “I’d like to see the rest.”

  Holy hell, I would love for him to see them. All of them. Preferably when I’m not wearing a stitch of clothing. Jax runs a single finger under the bracelet. I’ve never had two men’s attention on me at once, not like this. Both of their hands on me at the same time stokes that flame into a bonfire. I move my legs, effectively embracing Trigg’s hand between them, but my dress also rides up my thighs further, and he flexes his grip.

  The smallest hint of a moan escapes before I suppress it. I bite my unruly lips, willing them to remain silent. Jax leaves his hand on my wrist, his strong palm warming my skin as he reaches for his whiskey.

  I hold my breath as Trigg leans in close to my ear. “Am I making you nervous?”

  My fingers shake as I fiddle with my glass, wishing it was full again so I could down the whole thing right now. “No. Yes.”

  His hand, respectively close to my knee so far, ventures further north, the motion pushing the hem of my dress up further, and his ring-studded pinkie drawing a sensual line across my inner thigh. I’m sure he can feel the heat radiating off me — it’s an inferno down there.

  My legs part of their own volition despite the little voice in my head telling me not to let things go any further, and his hand slides up my thigh, just inches from my panties.

  “How about now?” Trigg whispers.

  I choke on a reply, and the sound comes out as a gasp. On the other side of me, Jax tilts his head, watching me intently. I don’t think Jax can see what Trigg’s doing at the moment, but I’m struggling to maintain a neutral expression as Jax studies me while Trigg’s fingers move dangerously close to my wetness.

  “I need some water, please.” It’s both a cover for my gasp and
a serious request — I’m on fire from head to toe.

  “Sure, of course,” Jax replies, sliding out of the booth immediately. He disappears through a throng of people just as Trigg’s fingers reach nirvana.

  I turn my head away from Trigg, lowering my chin bashfully, trying to keep the ecstatic expressions washing across my face hidden from him and the rest of the club. He strokes the thin fabric between my legs, and a moan rises in my throat. I bite down on my lip to keep the noise from escaping.

  “You wanna slip these panties off?” he invites, his whisper a seductive temptation.

  I shake my head, still refusing to look at him, but I’m seriously considering his suggestion. Just sliding them down my legs under the booth and tucking them into my purse. Letting Trigg have full access. God knows, I want to. As I debate, he presses firmer, massaging my clit faster, and I feel my legs start to shake. The sensation startles me back to reality for a moment.

  What am I doing? I’m so turned on, if I let him continue, I’m going to come right here in the corner booth of this club, hundreds of people dancing, drinking, and talking just a few feet away.

  A flash of movement catches my attention, and I lift my chin, watching as Jax slides back into the booth. His eyes are already fixed on me, intense and penetrating — that dark, hungry look of his that makes my stomach do flip-flops. Surely, he sees the flush on my face, the lust in my eyes, the way my lips are parted in that breathy way when I’m right on the verge of letting out a long moan of satisfaction.

  A faint sound of pounding floats across the club — someone banging a fist on a table in time with the thumping remix of the music, perhaps — and the staccato rhythm matches the rapid beat of my heart as I drink in Jax’s chiseled jaw and that hard edginess in his eyes.

 

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