by Lana Hartley
I feel him watching me for a while, and soon after, the curiosity eats me alive, “I-I’m sorry, you said someone was… was talking about me?”
I wipe the cum out of my hair, which then hangs in strands, damp against my shoulders.
“You know how it is. When a pretty girl gets dragged out by a rich man, people tend to talk.”
I look over my shoulder at him. Lucien seems kind, almost understanding. I know it’s a dirty secret, but I can’t be the only one to know—so what’s the harm in telling him?
“Actually… there were three rich men.”
“Three?” He lets out a small breath, “God, I miss being young…”
I can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of my lip. Lucien looks at me and smiles widely.
“You know, Gracie, what happened today is the sort of life that a lot of people dream of living.”
“It—it is?”
“Of course, who doesn’t want to be spoiled by three rich men?”
“I guess…”
“But you’ve got to be careful.” Suddenly his tone turns serious. “Because that dream can quickly become a nightmare. Because when you’re being spoiled…you’re not letting yourself say no.”
I nod, leaning in to hear more.
“And you should always be able to say no… especially with rich men. Take it from me—don’t spread your legs for powerful men unless you know who and what you’re getting into.”
He’s got a point…what do I know about Richard, or Daniel or Michael?
But then, Lucien’s smile spreads back across his face, and he walks towards the walk-in.
“I noticed you didn’t get any of the canapés earlier, but it’s your lucky day.”
“H-How so?”
There’s silence for a few seconds and then Lucien returns, carrying three trays.
“The wedding fell apart pretty quickly after you left. Turns out, neither the bride nor groom turned up, and the maid of honor and best man disappeared soon after that.”
I’m conflicted—should I be sad for the guests, or overjoyed for the free food?
There isn’t enough time to decide, because right after fixing my hair, Lucien piles the platters into my hands.
“Here, take them, it’s not like the Vandercliffs will notice it’s gone.”
“A-Are you sure?”
“Of course,” Lucien smiles, “What’s the harm in treating yourself?”
He gives me another knowing look.
“Just as long as you’re smart.”
7
Richard
I head straight back towards the valet station after my indulgence with Grace. Just as we planned, the truck is parked just back from the bay.
There are fucking people everywhere! Seriously, what the fuck is going on here? The whole reason we agreed on this location is because everyone should be hanging out down at the reception—no one should be wanting their cars now.
“What are we going to do?” Michael mutters, trying to look cool, and failing.
Dan stays quiet, but his face says it all.
Lawson is trying to screw our asses to the wall.
I pull out my phone as a text message comes in. It’s one of my guys. We hired a few toughs to help us move the shit—money is heavy—and they’re getting restless. I text back to wait awhile.
We can’t do a goddamn thing with all these people around. If even one person remembers we were interested in this truck, then we’re totally screwed.
“You know Lawson better than we do,” Dan says quietly. “What do you think? This looks dodgy to me.”
“It looks dodgy to me, too,” I mutter.
It’s funny, but I’m not getting as wound up as I usually would. I guess my first-class blow job from Grace really took the tension out of me.
Fuck. What did I have to think about that for? Now, I’m getting hard again.
What a sweet little piece she is. Those innocent eyes, like deep pools of water. Just gorgeous.
“Do we make a move or what?” Michael asks.
I give myself a mental shake and look at my phone again. I decide to call Lawson and ask what the fuck is going on, but I can’t get through.
“What’s up?” Dan asks.
“Either his inbox is too full or it’s too busy.” I mutter, liking this less by the minute.
“Hang on,” I crane my neck to see the truck better. “There’s someone there.”
I start walking towards the truck. Dan and Michael follow me slowly.
The truck is some way back from the valet station, but there are still too many people around. I move casually up to the door, nodding at the driver.
“Hey boss,” He nods as I walk up. “What can I do for you?”
“Where did this truck come from?” I put a bit of heat in my voice, so he doesn’t argue with me.
“Ah—I was told to bring it around here.”
“Well, take it back. Can’t you see its blocking the road? Give your boss a message when you get there. Tell him, we aren’t to be fucked with. We can’t accept the truck unless he has his end under control. It’s too fucking hot here now. Got it?”
“Yes, sir. No problem.”
He looks confused as fuck, but I don’t care.
I walk away as he starts the engine.
“Are you sure it’s a double cross?” Michael asks.
He’s way too trusting, this kid.
“No, I’m not fucking sure!” I blast at him furiously, “but it’s not like the fucking thing can stay there, is it?”
Michael shrugs. I can tell they’re getting frustrated. Like I give a fuck. This plan is getting too damn complicated.
“Did either of you see where Grace went?” I try to ask casually.
I could really use another work over by those lips.
“No, I was in a hurry to get out here.” Dan answers.
“Same here.” Michael agrees.
I narrow my eyes as I stare them down. I can sense where this is going.
“It was my fucking suit that got ruined—do you have any idea how much that thing cost? She’s mine, and you, two, can just stay out of the way.”
Dan laughs out loud.
“Oh, yeah? And what are you going to do? Swing your cock at me? I found her first, dude. Did you see my fucking Chevy, man! She totaled it!”
“Now, just wait one fucking second.” Michael cuts in.
“Take one look at my shoes. I ask you, have you ever seen shoes like this? No? And you never will. Irreplaceable. Don’t give me shit about your jacket or your car—all replaceable. My shoes are not. I have more right to Grace than either of you.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh.
“Right? You really want to talk to me about rights? What’s next? That it isn’t fair? I don’t give a fuck about fair. Why don’t you tattle to your mommy? Fucking fair, and who’s got the most ‘right’? Fuck off. She’s mine. End of discussion.”
“Oh yeah?” Dan looks dark and dangerous.
“What if I just say, she’s mine? I don’t like to share. Ever. So, I’m going after her, and you better believe that.”
“It’s not like I’m walking away.” Michael looks quite fierce.
“I’m going to be staking my claim on her. I don’t care what you say.”
We glare at each other, in a little triangle, in silent fury for a few seconds.
This dynamite energy that’s going on right now is part of the reason why we make such a good team. We cover each other’s bases. We also manage to antagonize each other just enough with our competition, that it really gets the energy firing up.
Whether it’s out on a deal or in the boardroom, we dominate. That’s what we do, what we’re good at. We’ve just never had to compete like this before.
Come to think of it, I don’t think Grace is the kind of girl we have to compete for. She doesn’t have the usual hang ups of the girls we run into.
She’s a simple creature. Gorgeous, sweet and uncomplicated
. If we tell her she’s going to fuck us all from separate directions, I’m sure she’d just meekly say, “Okay.”
That doesn’t mean I want to share.
“I want more than just a little payback.” Michael says finally. “I want her around a bit more, I’ve decided. I might even want to keep her.”
Dan glares at him.
“I’m thinking the same thing.” His voice is dark and low.
“If either of you think I’m just going to step aside, think again.”
I’m using the slow, deep voice I use in closing deals. People don’t fuck with me when I use this voice.
“Grace is mine. For now, for-fucking-ever if I say so. Fuck the jacket. Fuck you, two. I want her.”
Michael presses a hand to his forehead, rubbing his eyes.
“Okay, Okay. It’s clear none of us is going to back down. We must settle this somehow. We still must work together. Maybe we can sort something out.”
I grin easily. That’s Mike. That’s where he shines.
He always sees the crux of the problem and cuts straight to it. Fuck tact and being politically correct, you can trust Michael to say out loud what no one else will.
“Okay, Mike, let’s hear it.”
I’m not happy about the idea of sharing, but Mike’s right. We do have to work together. It’s worth hearing his idea.
I’m still fucking pissed about this whole thing with the catering truck.
It’s unsettled me more than I’d like to admit. I was hoping I could trust Lawson.
Maybe I can’t trust anyone.
8
Grace
Even after everything, I guess there’s really no rest for the wicked.
I drive from the wedding reception to the Shakespeare, ready to clock in for my shift behind the bar there. It turns out it doesn’t matter how much time I spent cleaning myself up, as I catch glimpses of myself in the mirror, I still see little streaks of cum on my collar.
It’s fine.
It’s moderately fucking annoying.
But also, so fucking hot.
And I keep a spare blouse in my car, anyway—I’ve spilt too many drinks and dinners down myself now not to always bring a backup. Assuming I wasn’t instantly fired on the spot.
My stomach growls as I slam shut the car door and step towards the staff entrance. The canapés are in my car, but I never did get to eat them.
Richard, Michael and Daniel were all very filling…but I can’t say I’ve been left feeling satiated. I’m still hungry. I need more.
When I step into the Shakespeare, the night has already begun. I can’t help but stare at the girls on stage, watching them as their bodies move and writhe to the music. I could never do that, I could never be them.
They have more control and sex appeal in their pinkie finger than I do over my entire body.
“Hey,” a voice says to me. I turn around to look, “I need two margaritas for table sixteen,” Katie says to me, smiling a little.
She’s so beautiful, even when she doesn’t have the happiest expression on her face. No wonder she gets the most tips, her breasts looks like they’re about to burst out of her blouse.
I’d tip her, too.
To distract myself from her, I look over to the direction she motions with her hand, and pause for a second. It’s a really hot man and a woman—which is odd, since you don’t normally see a lot of women in the Shakespeare.
But I could’ve sworn that that couple was the best man and maid of honor.
I can’t say I blame them—if I were in their shoes and both the bride and groom decided to bail on their own wedding, I’d need to drink a margarita, too.
“Oh, uh, sure, coming right up.” I nod and smile, turning my back to her to find all of the ingredients.
Tequila, check. Lime juice, check. Cointreau, check. Agave syrup, wait—check.
Did someone move the salt?
Oh, there it is.
“Hey—has something happened?” Katie calls over my shoulder. My heart leaps into my chest and I look at her over my shoulder.
“N-No. Why?”
“You look different.”
She’s staring at me thoughtfully, and I feel myself shrinking under her gaze. Nothing ever prepares you for being stared at by a beautiful woman.
“D-Different? Different how?”
I turn my back and return to the margaritas. That’s something I know I can do.
First, I rim the glass with salt, and then it’s as easy as throwing two parts tequila with one part lime juice. I pour in the half parts of Cointreau and agave syrup simultaneously.
“I don’t know…Different… you look like…I don’t know.”
I shake the cocktail over ice, and turn back to Katie, “Well, is it good? Good or bad?”
Katie narrows her eyes and looks at me again, as though she hadn’t made up her mind before she started talking to me. I’m straining the margarita into the cups, when from the corner of my eye I watch her nod slightly,
“Yeah, it’s good. You look good.”
I feel the weight drop from my body. I slide a circle of lime over the rim of each glass and place them into her tray, I smile in relief.
“Thanks Katie. That’s really sweet.”
Katie doesn’t get time to reply, as two guys who have clearly been here since lunch time push their way to the front and bark,
“Give me a Budweiser!”
I swear I jump a mile out of my skin as the other one puts his hand down on the bar hard enough to rattle an empty pint glass and get my attention.
“C-Coming!”
Once they’re gone, I begin to wipe down the bar and start trying to lift the sticky spilled alcohol from it.
My mind can’t help but wander as I do, and I drift back to thinking about the rose garden. Katie noticed that something was different, and I still can’t believe I acted that way today.
I still can’t believe that they wanted me. All three of them—me. They could have their fill of any—every—beautiful girl in the world, and yet they all chose me.
I’ve never really felt desirable before… but listening to Richard, Michael and Daniel all describe how they wanted me…
I’m practically wet again just from the memories.
They didn’t even care that I had never done it before—they still made me feel as though I was a natural, that I gave them some of the best damn head of their lives.
And, for a little while, I didn’t have to be in control. I didn’t have to worry about bills, or being late, or having to make sure I’m doing the right thing. They took over. I was simply there for pleasure.
I didn’t have to think about a thing.
I’d almost forgotten what it felt like, to feel free of all the pressure. It was nice while it lasted.
Once the bar is spotless, I look up to watch heads in the room turn and look towards the door. Even the dancer on stage gives him a lingering look.
That’s because Oberon Lawson just walked in. Whenever he enters, everyone notices.
He surveys the room and all eyes avert themselves once again. Through my eyelashes, I watch him make a beeline towards me and the bar.
“Bourbon on the rocks.”
“Right—Right away.”
I turn around to begin making his drink, and I can practically feel his eyes on my back.
“Didn’t I see you at the wedding today?”
“Y-Yes, I was there… I was the hired help.”
“I know.” I turn back to hand Mr. Lawson his drink and he turns and smiles at me, “I watched you leave with Richard, and Michael and Daniel weren’t far behind, were they?”
My heart begins to pound in my chest.
Fuck, what if he fires me?
I can’t lose this. I can’t lose my stable job.
“What do you mean, sir?”
“Don’t be coy. I know what you did… I bet you’re still thinking about it even.”
How does he know? Can he read my mind? Did he watc
h us?
Somehow the idea of someone watching us in the Rose Garden turns me on, but now is not the time.
“Don’t worry,” Lawson smiles, but it’s the same way a shark smiles at a dolphin. “You’re not in trouble. I just wanted to know what you think you were doing.”
“I- I owed them all something, and I was just…repaying it.”
“I see…” Lawson nods. “And, if you were to owe something to them again?”
I pause and rake my teeth over my bottom lip.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to paying them back again like that…it’s suitable for—for everyone.”
Lawson nods and is silent for a minute or so. He watches the stage, and sips occasionally from his bourbon. He seems to be thinking.
“Here,” He says, reaching into his pocket for his wallet, “Take this, have the night off…you’ve had a long, hard day.”
He gives me a knowing look, and hands me a wad of what looks like twenty and fifty dollar bills.
“Oh- Th-thank you, sir.”
I don’t even bother to count it, and, instead, take the money and go clock out.
As I head to my car, I can’t help but wonder what Lawson’s stake in my newfound sex life is. Why does he want to know if I’d do it again? And he’s throwing money at me like I’m one of his girls.
Maybe Lucian was right. Perhaps I shouldn’t fuck with powerful men if I don’t know what I’m getting into.
But, damn, I just want one more taste.
Maybe two.
Or three.
9
Grace
Not only am I on my way home with a big bag of yummy food, I. have more than enough money to pay my rent and other bills! Tonight went better than I could’ve imagined!
Way better.
I feel pumped for the first time in ages. Beautiful, smart, mature—all the things I’ve ever wanted to be, but never quite measured up to. Not to mention, a fully fucking awesome sex goddess. Not one or two, but three sexy, and powerful guys want to be with me.
I don’t even mind the walk home. The bag is more awkward than heavy, and it keeps slipping. Usually shit like this would tick me off: long walk, heavy stuff to carry…