Southern Girl Series: Bohemain Girl, Neighbor Girl & Intern Girl
Page 41
She smiles at me. “It’s so hard to find good help these days.”
Bootylicious is going to need some good help getting my foot out of her ass if she keeps on.
She loops her arm through Oliver’s. “I must have a dance with the birthday boy.”
“Actually, Adelyn had asked me to dance with her just before you walked up.”
I might have gone along with him had he properly introduced me to his sister’s friends, but I’m still annoyed even if he has kept his arm around me. “It’s okay. Dance with Marlana. We’ll have our dance later.”
He digs his fingers into my hip. “You sure about that? I already told you I would.”
“Oh, I’m quite sure. Go cut a rug, Thorn.”
I sort of feel bad as I watch Oliver walk away with Marlana.
Ivy laughs. “I’m thinking Oliver must have pissed you off about something.”
I must look like a total bitch. Not the impression I wanted to make with women so close to Lawrence. “He did.”
“Don’t forget we’ve known Oliver for years. So we also know he probably deserves worse.”
I’m not so sure. That woman was a handful at the grand opening. I was a witness to that. And now I’ve sent him away to dance with her.
“Nicely played. He’ll think twice before pissing you off again.” Kelsey gestures toward me with a nod. “I think she could fit in just fine with Law and us.”
“I think you could be right.”
Ivy slips her foot out of her shoe and flexes her toes. “There’s an open table. Let’s sit down. These things are killing my feet.”
“That’s what your ass deserves for wearing four-inch fuck-me pumps.”
Ivy puts her feet in Kelsey’s lap. “These fuckers may hurt, but they look damn good.”
Kelsey pushes Ivy’s feet away. “You look like you have a butt plug shoved up your ass when you walk in those things.”
Ivy makes a show of loudly whispering. “Bitch, I thought we agreed we weren’t going to talk about my butt plug issues in public anymore.”
“Don’t listen to her. She’s crazy.”
These girls are my kind of crazy.
“I am a little crazy. And mildly inappropriate. That’s why I’m not afraid to ask the burning question: what’s going on between you and Oliver?”
What makes them think anything’s going on? His arm around me? “You heard what he said. Apparently, I’m just his neighbor and corporate event coordinator.”
“There’s only one reason those descriptions would piss you off bad enough to send him to the dance floor with that woman.”
Ivy puts her hands together and the tips of her fingers tap against each other. “I can’t wait to tell Law she was right. Adelyn is putting the shine on Oliver’s knob.”
“I don’t believe I’ve ever heard it called that before.”
“Did you hear that, Kel? She didn’t deny it.”
“No need to deny it when it’s the truth. But I’m curious. Will Lawrence think that’s a good or bad thing?”
“Very good. She’s been pulling for the two of you to get together since Oliver moved next door.”
These are Lawrence’s best friends. I guess they’d know. And I’m relieved to know that his sister is in our corner. That makes things a whole lot easier.
Ivy leans over the balcony railing. “Aw, hell. Look at Oliver with that dancing fuck hole.”
“I actually feel a little bad for sending him down there with her.”
“I think we can all agree he chose his words poorly but making him dance with that woman is cruel and unusual punishment.”
Kelsey turns away. “It’s too fucking brutal to watch.”
“Girl, it’s his birthday. You have to go save him.”
The punishment doesn’t fit the crime. “You’re right. He doesn’t deserve that. I’m going down to rescue my man.”
My approach is timed perfectly with the end of the song. Bootylicious has danced with him long enough so there shouldn’t be a protest about giving him up.
“I’m ready for my dance now.”
“I need him for one more, hon. We didn’t get a slow song.”
Bitch.
“Bad timing, I’m afraid. This is our song.”
“Your song?”
“That’s right. Adelyn and I are dating.”
Oh, he decides to claim me when it’s convenient?
“Thanks for coming, Marlana. Enjoy the rest of the party.”
Oliver steps away from her, turns his back, and takes me in his arms, officially dismissing Bootylicious. That’s right, bitch. He’s mine.
“Be sure and try the stout cake before you go. It’s delish.”
Oliver leads me in some kind of a two-step to the other side of the dance floor. “You have some smooth moves tonight, birthday boy.”
“I think yours are much smoother. Or more underhanded.”
Okay. He’s calling me out on what I did upstairs. Guess I deserve that. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Why the fuck did you send me off with her?”
Admitting I’m angry about the way he labeled me is going to reveal a lot about my feelings. But I don’t care. Maybe Oliver should know I think of myself as more. “I got pissed off when you introduced me as your neighbor and employee.”
“But you are my neighbor. And we’ve hired you for two events in a month.”
That’s not the answer I was looking to get from this confrontation.
I stop dancing and look at him. “So all of your neighbors and employees suck your dick?”
He laughs and pulls me against him, resuming our dance. “Okay. I get it now.”
I’m not finished with him yet. “And another thing. We agreed to try a relationship. Don’t you think I’m worthy of being told that today is your birthday?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think of how that might make you feel.”
Pulling away again, I look up at him. “It hurt my feelings. Keeping it from me says more than you might think.”
I hate admitting that. Makes me feel weak.
The skin around his eyes wrinkles and the blue diverts away from my hazel. I can almost see the wheels in his head spinning out of control as he considers my words. He isn’t immediately jumping on the excuse wagon like so many men do.
“It’s not like that, Max. I’m not big on celebrating my birthday. It’s like any other day to me.”
“This isn’t any other day. You’re turning thirty. One of those numbers with a zero behind it. They only come every ten years so they’re special.”
“Not to me.”
“I want this one to be special. A birthday you’ll never forget. And I’m going to make sure that happens when we get home.”
“I’m down with that.”
The band is playing their version of “I Don’t Want To Change You” by Damien Rice. One of my favorites. “You told Marlana this was our song. I think it should be.”
“It’s a good one.”
I’m not sure it’s right for a couple to make a song theirs without fitting lyrics. “But it doesn’t describe us. It says the opposite.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I’m trying to change you—or change your mind—about giving me the things I want.”
I’m not sure that’s fair to Oliver. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m being selfish.
“I’ve been doing research. We’re gonna find ways to compromise.”
He’s interested and open to learning? He wants to bend?
“What kind of research?”
“You’ll see.”
“Tonight?” Please say yes.
“Perhaps.”
“I’m ready for this party to be over so we can go to your house.”
Oliver holds the sides of my face and kisses me, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth.
“You like doing that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but I’d like sucking your clit more.”
Tingly
sensations spread throughout my lower pelvis. “Totally unfair to say that when we have to wait.”
“I want you thinking about it the rest of the night. I need my good girl to be drenching wet for me.”
“No worries there. You’ve taken care of that.”
“Good.” There’s that smile. Triumphant. Smug. Sexy as fuck.
I need to get away from Oliver before I consider dragging him into a broom closet. “I should check in with Michelle. Make sure everything is going according to plan. You need to mingle with your guests.”
“I’d rather be with you. But I’ll make the rounds and talk to everyone because you say so.”
“Don’t have too many beers. I don’t want your senses overly dulled later.” I have a surprise in store for him.
“Don’t worry, baby. I have no intentions of missing out on a thing you have planned for me.”
* * *
Oliver’s friends don’t know when to stop partying. He’s a beer brewer so I guess it goes with the territory, but damn, it’s after one in the morning. I’m ready to go so we can get the after-party started.
“I know my brother’s friends well. Do whatever it takes to start moving them out of here or they’ll stay all night.”
I know what I have to do. “I’ll get the band to play ‘Closing Time.’ That’ll get some of their asses moving out the door.”
“Maybe.” Lawrence doesn’t sound optimistic.
“If that doesn’t work, I’ll have them turn on all the lights.” Drunks hate well-lit places. A flip of the switch and it’s like a stampede of rats running for the sewers.
An hour. A fucking hour to get everyone out of the building. I will need to remember that if I ever plan another party for Oliver’s friends.
“Michelle, I’m going to start taking boxes to the van.”
“I’m putting it in overdrive so we can get out of here.” I can tell she doesn’t mind being here late. I don’t think she has stopped smiling since I told her to take charge.
“I’m going to pay you overtime.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m one hundred percent fine with being here.”
She stops and does her happy dance. The running man. “I got to take charge.” Her dancing is better than her singing.
“And you did a fabulous job. I’m very proud of you.”
She’s young, and I see so much of myself in her. Such a go-getter. I’m happy she hasn’t been put into a position where she must depend on someone like Martin to achieve success. If she stays on the right path, I’m going to help this girl go places.
Michelle comes to me and wraps her arms around me, squeezing. “Thank you so much, Adelyn, for trusting me enough to pass the baton.”
This won’t be the last time I do it. “I think we should let you take over more often.”
“I’d love that.”
Having someone I could trust would be priceless.
“Why don’t you go and let me take care of this? Kevin can help me carry this stuff to the van.”
“That is a tempting offer.”
“Go on. It’s your boyfriend’s birthday. Get out of here and enjoy the rest of the night with him.”
Boyfriend. I like the sound of that.
“I think I will but don’t hesitate to call if anything comes up.”
“I’ll be fine. Go.”
The venue has cleared out but I don’t see Oliver anywhere in sight.
Adelyn: I’m leaving. Where are you?
Oliver: Parking lot. Talking with friends.
Adelyn: Got to put something in the van around back then we’re leaving. Hope you’re ready for the real party.
Oliver: Fuck yes.
Adelyn: Good. Give me 5.
I’m standing by the van when I’m pushed against its back door with my arms shoved over my head. Hard cock pressing against my ass. Not painful but definitely forceful. Authoritative. Domineering. Powerful.
Oliver is beginning to take this role as a dominant male seriously.
I fucking love it.
I sway my ass from side to side, rubbing it against him. “Couldn’t wait five minutes, huh?”
Oliver binds one hand around both of my wrists to hold me in place. His other hand snakes around my waist beneath my skirt and dives into my panties. Two fingers plunge inside me, thrusting slowly.
“Mmm… that feels good.”
Warm breath against my ear sends goose bumps down my body. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed this sweet little cunt, my kitten.”
Fuck. No, no, no.
I look at the strong arm pinning my hands to the van.
No black shirt with the sleeves rolled to the upper forearm.
No tattoo.
No.
In its place, I see a white button-down with a monogrammed cuff link. RDM.
Martin.
Fuck. No.
I buck and struggle to free myself from his hold but he’s pinning me hard with his body. He doesn’t budge. And I panic.
My scream for Oliver is muffled when he rips his hand from my panties and covers my mouth. I bite his hand in desperation, and it leaves my mouth, landing on my neck. Right against my carotid. Martin knows exactly how to squeeze so I pass out in a snap.
So I stop struggling. If I black out, this is over.
“I saw you on that stage tonight, and everything about us came rushing back to me. How much I miss you and how badly I want you back in my life.”
Do not show fear. Do not feel fear. You can control your reactions. Defend yourself. Remember what Willie taught you. You spent months preparing for this moment because you knew this day would eventually happen.
Easier said than done. I’m shaking like a fucking leaf in a storm.
“Come back to me, Adelyn. Marry me.”
What the hell? How could he think I’d do that?
Martin would love having me under his thumb as his wife. Legally bound. I’m certain he believes marriage would put an end to his blackmail problems.
He’s out of his fucking mind. He tried to kill me.
Safety is so close. Just around the corner of the building. Oliver is waiting for me. I could call out for him again but I’m terrified of what Martin will do to me. Maybe I just keep him talking. Stalling. Giving Oliver time to come for me.
Please, Oliver. Please come for me.
“You so easily forget what you did to me.”
His whiskey-infused breath is on my ear. Makes my fucking skin crawl. “I haven’t forgotten, love. But we can start over. It’ll be like that other life never happened.”
He seriously thinks we can start fresh? One word: delusional.
“I will never forget or forgive what you did to me.”
His woodsy fragrance infused with Jack and Coke, a scent once so familiar, engulfs my nose. Sickening. How did I ever find that sexy?
“Marry me and you’ll have everything your heart desires. I’ll give you all the babies you want. You won’t have to work. You can stay home and be a mother like you always wanted.”
No. That’s what Martin wanted. Me tied to him at home with his kids. That was never my plan, but he damn sure tried to convince me it was.
He wants to talk babies? We’ll talk babies. I’m about to drop the bomb I’ve been holding for four years.
“You mean you’ll give me another baby to replace the one you killed when you attacked me?” I’ve always wanted to tell him he finally got his wish and then destroyed it.
“What are you talking about?”
“I was pregnant with your child when you beat and stabbed me and left us for dead.”
“No… no… fuck no.”
I can’t see the pain on his face, but I hear it in his voice. And I’m glad. Thrilled I’m able to hurt him in some way.
Most men wouldn’t mourn the loss of an unborn child but Martin’s not every man. He had gone through four wives by the time I came along, and none of them had given him what he wanted so badly. A child. Specifica
lly, a son to carry on his name and take over his empire.
I was so certain he was infertile. That’s why I didn’t put up a fuss when he demanded I stop taking my birth control pills. I thought there was no way I’d get pregnant if his four previous wives hadn’t. He was the common denominator in the equation for no baby.
And I was so very wrong.
“God, you had my baby inside you that night? I wouldn’t have laid a finger on you had I known.”
“You shouldn’t have laid a finger on me regardless.”
There isn’t a place hot enough in hell for this man. I wish he were dead and burning right now.
“He would be three years old right now if you hadn’t killed him. He was your own flesh and blood, Martin. Probably your only chance at a son.”
I have no idea if the baby was a boy or girl, but I know the thought of losing a son kills him.
“Oh God. I didn’t know, kitten.”
Kitten. That word from his lips makes my hair stand on end. I hate it.
He releases my hands and turns me so I’m facing him. He cradles his hands on each side of my face. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
Those eyes. I never wanted to look into this man’s eyes again. He’s insane. And the dark obsession I see there confirms it.
“I’m not sorry. Not one bit. That baby would have tied me to you for the rest of my life. And you would have made me miserable every day I walked this earth.”
I’ve had that thought in my head on a daily basis for four years, but I’ve never said the words aloud. They’re so ugly and horrible for a mother to say. It was an innocent baby. It didn’t ask to be conceived and it sure didn’t ask to be killed.
“You’re angry with me about the baby. And you should be; it was all my fault you lost him, but I swear I’ll make it up to you. We’ll try again. I’ll put another baby inside you, and we’ll have our family.”
He’s seriously lost his mind if he believes that’ll ever happen.
“No. Way. In. Hell.” I shove at him but he doesn’t budge. “Let go of me, Martin.”
“No. You’re coming home tonight back into our bed where you belong. So help me, Adelyn, I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you if you fight me. You know I will.”
Yes. I know all too well what Martin is capable of doing. If he says he’s taking me, he fucking means it.