by Cynthia Dane
“You would know,” Jasmine said for the second time that day. Usually she forgot that Monica was technically Ethan’s ex-girlfriend, back when he was in a ménage relationship with her and Jackson Lyle. Ethan always said that he saw Monica more as a friend with benefits than a romantic partner, so they were able to remain good friends after he walked away from the arrangement. Even so, Jasmine often found herself comparing her bedroom skills to a woman who made half her life learning every art form there was… and turning it into a business. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to keep saying that.”
“It doesn’t bother me. You’re not wrong, are you?”
Sighing, Jasmine unfolded her legs and joined her boyfriend in lying down. Her baggy T-shirt barely covered her sleep shorts. She did not miss Ethan glancing at her bare thighs before looking her in the eye again. Oh, good, he’s feeling frisky. They hadn’t had sex in a few days. In previous relationships, Jasmine wouldn’t have cared. With Ethan, though… the man was a powerhouse.
“I get so exhausted around you people.”
“You people?”
“You know… you rich type people.”
“Ah.”
“You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”
“Not really. Sorry.”
Jasmine tugged at the collar of his shirt, inciting him to kiss her. The instant his lips hit hers, she forgot what she was so worried about. That was the power of a boyfriend who knew how to make her feel like the queen of the universe. Even when he was collaring her and tying her up… and making her say things… and…
None of that tonight. Ethan made his vanilla intentions clear when he slipped her shorts down and sucked on her throat. A quickie before bed. Sounded like Jasmine’s sort of fun, if he was too tired to do anything else. Especially on a late Sunday night, mere hours before he had to get up to go to his office downtown.
“Are you staying in the penthouse this week?” Jasmine asked, as he worked his way down to her breasts, now freed from her obnoxious T-shirt. “I’ll come join you.” She didn’t like staying in the main house up in the Hills without him. Felt too empty, even with the staff running around. She much preferred Ethan’s downtown penthouse he kept for late nights at work. And for his fake girlfriends, whom he didn’t want to bring to his real home.
Plus, one of the perks of having her own car, let alone a driver, was that she could run downtown and do some shopping before joining Ethan for dinner and a night at the penthouse, just the two of them… like a real, down-to-Earth couple. Who only had a few million. Instead of a billion.
Ethan stopped kissing her skin long enough to answer, although his voice was strained. That’s probably not the only thing straining right now. Jasmine giggled to brush her hand against the growing erection in his sweatpants. “I might. Dunno yet. It’s a busy week.”
“Every week is busy…” It was one of the reasons they hadn’t had sex as often lately. Ethan deciding at the last minute to stay downtown when it was too late for Jasmine to join him. Ethan falling asleep the moment he got home or his head hit the pillow. Ethan even foregoing dinner when it was waiting for him, because he was too tired to eat. I wish I knew what to do to help. Well, there was one thing Jasmine knew how to do… when he was up to it.
“I’ll let you know.”
Jasmine didn’t get a chance to respond. She was quickly pinned beneath him, feeling his body crush hers as he made his moves to claim her for another night.
She gave herself over to the motions and emotions taking over the room, her legs wrapping around his waist as he eventually thrust into her without issue. This never gets old. Jasmine had lost count of the months, maybe years now they had been together, but making love in all its forms was still one of the best parts of her relationship. She practically melted beneath her boyfriend, opening herself up to him without a care or worry.
He looked into her eyes as they climaxed, one after the other. Jasmine whimpered. She felt submissive, but not conquered. Loved, but not put on a fabricated pedestal. That was all that mattered. Just the two of them. In love. Connecting as two lovers often did.
“That was pretty damn fantastic.” Ethan pulled back the covers when they were through, climbing in without a second thought while Jasmine remained above. “I need to sleep.”
Jasmine wanted to crawl in with him and huddle in his arms, but she had to go to the bathroom to cleanup first. Men. More like Ethan. The man had a vasectomy years ago just so he could have condomless sex with his monogamous girlfriends. Worked for Jasmine, since she and hormonal birth control hated one another. But that meant a cleanup after sex on her part, and she couldn’t just toss something in the trash for Belinda to find the next morning. Oh, gross. Another reason to be thankful, Jasmine supposed.
She went into the bathroom, keeping her eye on Ethan as he fell asleep in the bed a few yards away. He almost looked cute. If a powerful businessman slightly over thirty could look cute. Jasmine figured she had the right to think her boyfriend was cute. I wonder what he looked like as a child. She saw so few pictures of his childhood. Mostly because there weren’t any. He would’ve either been the most adorable, chubby-cheeked boy or a stringy monster. Jasmine decided on the former.
What would our kids look like? That was a strange thing to think as she cleaned up her boyfriend’s empty swimmers. Yet she thought it anyway, because Jasmine waffled back and forth on whether or not she wanted to have kids. Not right now. Definitely not right now. First of all, she would want to be married. Monica was going to do it the right way. Jasmine had heard her talk about wanting to have a child or two someday. “It’s best course to be married first, naturally,” she had said. “Yet that doesn’t stop an unmarried woman from thinking about it, especially if she’s in love with the future father.”
Jasmine looked back at Ethan. He had one arm cast over his face to block out the light still on by the bed. Jasmine did her best to not disturb him when she finally curled up against his torso. Our kids would look good. She went to sleep that night with a stomachache.
Chapter 3
Jasmine was the only one on the plane who didn’t complain about a lack of Wi-Fi. Even Monica, who was usually the most considerate person in the room, griped that she would have liked to have Wi-Fi to keep an eye on a party that was happening at her Château that weekend.
It’s not a long flight… Two, three hours if they hit a bad flow. Otherwise these privileged women could do without being connected to the rest of the world for a few hours. Wasn’t it good enough they were in a luxury private plane with plush leather seating… for everyone? Even Ethan’s plane he kept on hand at the local airport wasn’t as nice as this. Jasmine was content to draw her legs up in her beige leather recliner and watch the American landscape pass by thousands of feet below.
According to everyone else flying with them, however, this was simply the worst thing to ever happen. How much was Eva paying for this flight? Couldn’t she have secured one with working internet?
“Stop blaming me,” she finally snapped. “Sheesh, you all are too connected to your boyfriends.” Eva glanced at Kathryn sitting next to her. “Especially you. Calm down. You’ll see him again and can tell him all that nasty stuff in person.”
Kathryn shoved her phone in her pocket. “Ever since you got Lasik I can’t trust anything around you.”
“Honey, I’ve been reading your dirty texts for years now. I never needed Lasik for that.”
“Anyway, it’s not what you think. He’s giving me the hardest time about going to a bachelorette party in Miami. Did you know that I am in danger of seeing another man’s dick?”
“We can only be so blessed,” Monica said from her chair, eyes half-closed as she fell asleep for the third time that hour. “I mean…”
“Uh huh. Bride’s getting cold feet.” Eva got up and took off her white blazer, revealing a blue blouse dotted in tiny, hand-beaded fringes that matched beautifully with her white trousers. “Five-thousand bucks says my sister-in-law never
becomes my sister-in-law because she ran off with Rodrigo in Miami.”
“Who’s Rodrigo?’ Jasmine asked.
The five other women on the plane – not including the stewardess – looked at her as if she had just asked what the capital of Africa was. “Rodrigo is the man who is going to steal Monica away from us because she’s not a one-cock girl, no matter how much she says she is.” Eva poured herself some iced water before sitting down again.
“That’s your brother you’re talking about,” Kathryn reminded her.
“I know. Gross.”
One of the other women, a young strawberry blonde named Gwen, woke up from her mile-high doze. “How many cocks?”
“Now this is what I’m talking about,” said the woman next to her. Charlotte had hair darker than Jasmine’s, and that was a feat. She also had the fakest tits in the cabin, which she prominently displayed in her purple dress. “Cock talk.”
“None of that stuffy business like at the shower.” Eva glanced at Jasmine. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay… I know what you mean…” Jasmine laughed, uneasily. I hope I know what she means. Okay, she had to stop laughing. Things were getting weird on the airplane again.
Jasmine was considered Monica’s closest friend there, and yet she felt so out of place with this bunch that she was liable to open a window and jump out without a parachute. I am so dramatic sometimes. She couldn’t help it. She had a stomachache – and a headache – all week. It was probably ovulation being a bitch, as it sometimes was, but Jasmine was tired of taking medicine for it already. She wanted to try enjoying a bachelorette party in Miami. Not throw up all over it after one drink.
I don’t think I have the flu… She had no other symptoms, not even a slight fever. I should go to the doctor, though. When would she have time? There was a wedding in a week!
“Tell your boyfriend that you’re sleeping with no less than three ripping, bare-chested men who are as smooth as a baby’s bottom.” Eva pointed to the phone in Kathryn’s pocket. “Do it on Skype. I want to see his face.”
“I will do no such thing… and it’s no fewer than. Really, are you honestly in grad school?”
“Nobody said businesspeople got good grammar. That’s for you grant writers.”
Ain’t that the truth. Jasmine spent an inordinate amount of time correcting Ethan’s grammar in his letters and memos. The man wasn’t ignorant at the language he spoke, but it was clear some things were missing from his English education growing up in some of the worst public schools in the city. Yet he got into Harvard. It was probably a pity bone they threw him, but it worked out.
“How are you doing?” Jasmine asked Monica while everyone fell into the most inappropriate conversations they could muster. “You’ve looked a bit gray this whole flight.”
“Oh… I’m not the best with flying, particularly if there is any turbulence.” Monica fingered the rim of her empty glass. “Would you mind getting me some water? I’m afraid I’m too nauseous to get up.”
Jasmine obliged, but not before giving Monica a hard look. “Are you doing okay?”
“I am fine. Or at least I’ll be fine.”
“You want some alcohol?” That seemed to be how everyone else dealt with flying.
Monica shook her head. “That sounds dreadful. I’ll save the partying for later.”
Jasmine couldn’t help but keep staring at her friend as she went to refill the glass of water. Nor could she help staring at the other women on the plane, all attached to their phones that had no service or falling asleep in plush leather chairs. Jasmine supposed she should be getting her beauty sleep for that night. Whatever was going to happen. With this particular group, it would probably be some crazy shit.
Everyone’s going to be dead tomorrow. Jasmine counted on it. She wanted to go shopping in Miami, and that would be easiest to do if the party was still so far done that everyone was passed out in hotel rooms. With or without new boyfriends, from the sounds of things.
***
“Holy crap, did you see that guy’s bulge?”
“I’m too busy staring at that guy’s ass.”
“Can’t we look at both?”
The party had barely started at one of Miami’s most exclusive outdoor clubs. Right on the beach. Under a sea of stars – if they could be seen, anyway. Live Cuban music played far away on a stage, but the acoustics were so good that the party could hear it half a world away.
That wasn’t what everyone was excited about, however. No, that would be the half-naked male servers who walked around carrying drinks to tables full of horny women on vacation.
Jasmine would have never thought to bring Monica to a place like this for the first night of her bachelorette partying. She seemed too refined for what basically amounted to male Hooters. Let alone it being a place that Eva chose. From what Jasmine knew of lesbians, though, they usually came in two flavors: repulsed by naked men, or Eva.
“If I were straight, I would let that one ram me.”
“You just like him because he’s blond!” Gwen shouted above the music and the rabble of other partiers. “And you’re… you are… blond!”
“Fuck yeah! Gotta keep the blondes with the blondes!”
“What the fuck are you two talking about?”
Gwen’s face nearly plastered to their large table. She had three empty glasses in front of her. They used to be filled with liquored up cocktails.
Monica had yet to touch any of the stuff. Jasmine had one drink so far and decided to break it up with the best Shirley Temple she ever tasted. Monica, meanwhile, traded alcohol for sugar in the form of one Coke after another. Jasmine offered a sip of her drink more than once, but Monica said her stomach was still upset from the flight.
“Mine too!” Jasmine told her about her problems from the previous week. Sometimes Monica asked more specific questions about her ailments, sometimes staring at what felt like her breasts and thighs, but not in a sexual way. Does she even like women like that? I don’t think so… “Maybe I just wanna party!”
Monica shrugged. “Maybe that’s my problem. My girls threw me a surprise bachelorette party on Tuesday. There was a lot of alcohol, but they like any excuse to get toasted.”
“What time is it?” Someone asked.
“Time to get fucking wasted and get laid.”
“Someone is single over here.”
Charlotte slammed down her second margarita of the night. “I want another one of these and I want it now. I want it from that guy with the goatee. And I want to suck his dick.”
“Calm down, honey, most of these guys are probably gay.”
“How would you know?”
“How would I know if someone is gay?”
Someone lit a cigarette. Next thing Jasmine knew, it was being passed around the table like a town pony. At first Jasmine thought it was something else. But no, that was definitely tobacco she smelled. Very nice and very expensive tobacco. Ethan served it to some of his guests, although he never smoked it for himself.
Everyone at the table took a drag. Everyone except for Monica and her partner in being boring, Jasmine.
“Ah, fuck.” Kathryn coughed hard enough to make her friend tipsily smack her on the back. “I haven’t smoked since college.”
“But you have sucked dick, right?” Charlotte asked, yanking the cigarette from Kathryn. Someone had a one-track mind.
“Uh, yeah, last night.”
“Thatta girl.”
“No wonder your breath is awful.”
Kathryn backhanded Eva on the arm and coughed again.
“Me too!” Gwen cried, lifting her head long enough to join the sordid conversation. “I totally got that dick last night.”
“Well aren’t you special?”
Everyone looked at Monica. Before she could respond, Eva said, “Please, no, I don’t need more images than I already have.”
That just left Jasmine. She was glad she had alcohol to blame her redness on, because being straight up asked
if she sucked a dick the night before was making her woozy. Maybe if she were in different company… but even then…
“Ah! Look at her face! She’s gotten more than you, Char!”
“Of course she has. She’s living with Ethan Cole.” Kathryn snatched the cigarette back and this time managed to take a drag without coughing. “Everyone knows what kind of appetite that guy has.”
Someone snickered. Monica shot Kathryn a somewhat hostile look, but Jasmine jumped in before things could get ugly. “I would know better than anyone here. Unless you know something you’d like to share with the class.”
“Oh, shit!”
“Damn.”
Kathryn turned her attention to Jasmine, mouth dropping open. “Are you trying to say something about me?”
“Oh, no. Unless you have something to share with me about my boyfriend and…” She didn’t say it. You.
“All right, girls,” Eva said, clapping a friendly hand on Kathryn’s shoulder. “We’re drunk and dumb. Let’s settle down. No cat fights at any party I’m throwing, unless massage oil and mud pits are involved.” She looked between Jasmine and Kathryn. “That was a joke.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Jasmine looked away. Good job, idiot. Ruin your friend’s bachelorette party because you can’t hold your tongue. Jasmine already had a tentative relationship with these women, and Kathryn was one of the worst. One could never tell if Ms. Alison, the richest woman in her own right at that table, liked anyone. Most people debated if she even actually liked her boyfriend or if the blond harpy was simply leading him on. The things I hear when people think I’m too stupid to understand what they’re saying at brunches.
“Ladies! I hope I’m not late!”
Before anyone could respond, a carefully manicured hand snatched the half-smoked cigarette from Kathryn’s. She looked like she saw a ghost – or maybe a succubus – when she glanced up at who graced them with her presence. She then looked to Eva with an expression that said, “You invited her?”