by Cynthia Dane
Then there’s no way in hell I’m sharing the kinky shit. Jasmine lifted her head, glancing at her mother through blurry eyes. “I really don’t want to talk about our sex life.”
At least she didn’t hide the fact that she had one. That was the blessing in this situation. Her parents wouldn’t say anything about her and Ethan sleeping together in their own house.
“Fine. Everything is fine in that department. I have no complaints.” Other than a lack of sex when the cosmos really hated them, like that past March.
“Oh…” More giggling. There was something unnerving about a fifty-five-year-old woman laughing about her daughter’s sex life. “I was sure to hear that, wasn’t I? That man is cut in more ways than one.”
“You could say that.” Jasmine wasn’t getting into it. None of her mother’s business what was going on in Ethan’s pants. As far as his fiancée was concerned, that only mattered between the two of them.
“Very fertile looking…”
“Mom!”
“What! I notice these things!”
Jasmine was trapped between crying and laughing. “Gonna bust your tits to know he’s been cut, then.”
“Honey, there’s nothing wrong with a man who has been circumcised. You find exciting ways to pleasure him…”
“I don’t mean that! I mean the other kind of cut!”
“Oh… oh! Well, there must be a reason he did that. Like being exceptionally fertile.”
“I swear to God, Mom.”
“Fine, fine.” Luna got up, patting down her thick skirt and combing her fingers through her thicker hair. “Forgive your mother’s intrusions. It’s… we haven’t had any quality girl talk in so long…”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Jasmine sighed, turning in toward her mother’s opening hug. “I’m glad you’re here, Mom.”
“Oh, don’t lie to me if you don’t mean it… I didn’t raise a woman who kisses ass.”
“I mean it. I’m glad you could make it for my wedding. I would be sad if you weren’t there.”
Luna’s face softened, oozing maternal love. Her arms opened wider. “But?”
That’s who I get it from. Jasmine hugged her mother, feeling that woman’s ample bosom push against her face. When it was her own mother, it was comforting. Anyone else? Weird. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon. We’re in the middle of planning the wedding, and I have things I need to tend to all the time. I hope you understand.”
“Don’t worry, honey. Your father and I can amuse ourselves quite easily. We were happy to find out you live up in these darling little hills. We might take a walk around tomorrow.”
“All right. Just remember that these are very private properties. I don’t want you accidentally – or purposely – trespassing.”
“Oh! Don’t worry! I didn’t tell your father that the man who had him arrested for protesting outside a building lives a few miles from here.”
“Oh, good.” With any luck, her parents wouldn’t be the death of her… and Jasmine often felt like she was running out of luck lately.
***
“Ethan was absolutely right,” Jenny said, taking the preliminary tour of the garden. “This would make a gorgeous place to have the ceremony. These colors alone are profound, and in June… can you imagine when all of these flowers are in bloom?”
“I’ve thought about it many times since he first suggested it.” Jasmine tugged on Blackbeard’s leash, pulling her bulbous cat out of the bushes and onto the brick path. It was time for his walk, which basically amounted to whenever Jasmine wanted to go outside on a sunny day. Or when she had to go outside, such as when showing her wedding planner around the property. Blackbeard, however, was more into chasing bugs and sniffing dirt.
“You were absolutely right,” Jenny continued. “It would be impossible to accommodate your guest list in this space. We’d have to rip out this whole middle part of the garden to sit even half of them.”
“Yes, that’s what I told him.” Jasmine tried not to giggle as Blackbeard ran up to her and smashed his fluffy tale against her bare leg. “He didn’t like any of the venues that were available or willing to work with us. He expressed he doesn’t want to get married in a church if I don’t want to.”
“Gosh, I love churches.” Sighing, Jenny pulled out her tablet and punched some figures into the calculator. “They’re set up perfectly for hosting weddings. Perfect backdrops and photo ops. It’s almost a shame that so many people aren’t religious these days.” She stared at the number appearing on her screen. “It will cost more than a pretty penny of Mr. Cole’s to make this work. At all. It would require construction. This is assuming that you and him marry on the balcony up there. That would be the easy part. Although in order for you to walk through the guests… shit, thinking about this is giving me a headache.”
“You can do it, right?”
“Of course I can? I’m not the fucking best around for nothing.” Jenny put her tablet away and crossed her arms. “So we’ve got your venue. As long as Mr. Cole is willing to pay…”
“He will.”
“…Then things are finally starting to come together. You’ve picked out a color for the wedding, so we can get started on the bridesmaid dresses soon. You’ve finalized the guest list and sent out the invitations. Aside from your personal parties, all that’s left to figure out is the cake, the dress, and the flowers. Well, there’s a lot to figure out, but those are the main things for you to think about right now. I’ll take you and Ethan cake shopping soon enough. Remind me to schedule it.”
Jasmine nodded. Blackbeard flopped between them.
“Also, I no longer accommodate animals in the bridal party, except for a nominal fee. Really nominal. They are an utter pain in the ass.”
“I agree with you. He will be locked up in the bedroom all day.”
“Good. Now, there is also the matter of the menu…”
“Dios mio!” Belinda shrieked up on the balcony. Not only did that get Jasmine’s attention because, well, shrieking, but also because Belinda never slipped into Spanish unless she was so startled that her brain unlocked a language she claimed to have forgotten long ago. When Jasmine and Jenny looked up, they saw the housekeeper clutching her heart with one hand and pointing to the edge of the woods with the other. “That man… that man is…”
Jasmine spun around. There, emerging from the depths of the woods, were her parents. They had gone for a walk earlier that morning, claiming they needed the daily exercise. Jasmine didn’t disagree, and told them of Ethan’s favorite trail before they headed off into the early morning fog.
They were back now… and missing something very, very important.
“Hi, honey!” Luna, scratching the top of her breast, greeted. Mom, you’re… Scratching her breast. Her naked breast.
“Trail is great! We’ll take it every day!” Saul walked briskly, his nude body sauntering through the garden. Arms pumped. Something Jasmine never wanted to see on her father bounced with his every step.
Jenny dropped her tablet on the ground.
“Mom! Dad!”
“They’re naked!” Belinda cried in disbelief from above.
Sure enough, Mr. and Mrs. Bliss showed off not only what they had, but exactly where Jasmine had come from twenty-some odd years ago. Both had aged respectably over the years, but Jasmine was not prepared to see her mother’s overhanging stomach, saggy breasts, and cellulite bouncing on her thighs and ass. And, well, she had never expected to see her father’s dick again after being five and taking a bath with him for the finale time.
“Who is this lovely young woman?”
“This is… this is the wedding pla… you’re naked.”
“Yes, thank you, dear, we’re quite aware. We took our clothes off in the forest and couldn’t be bothered to put them back on before coming back.” Luna shrugged. Her breasts heaved up and down with her movements. “We’re nudists now. Have been for a while. Might as well get used to it!”
The
y shuffled by, greeting Jenny on their way back into the house. Jasmine continued to stare in utter disbelief. Jenny muttered a wow before bending down to pick up her tablet in its shatter-protection case. Belinda let out a string of Spanish Jasmine couldn’t understand. Blackbeard rolled onto his back, sunning himself on the warm bricks.
“Your parents, huh?” Jenny shoved her tablet in her knapsack. “Make sure they wear clothes to your wedding. Your guests wouldn’t approve otherwise.”
Jasmine was too dumbfounded to promise either way.
Chapter 8
If Jasmine was hopeless at croquet, then she was half decent at badminton. Which didn’t say much, because being one of the best players at her high school was like saying she was one of the best deep sea divers as well.
She performed decently at the downtown sports center when she went the next day. It helped she had Gwen on her side, who was apparently a sporty girl who loved nothing more than pummeling her opponents into the ground.
Too bad the women on the other side of the net were out for blood.
“Two to seven!” Eva called, slamming the birdie across the net. Gwen dove and volleyed it back, her grunt of total annihilation echoing in the room as the birdie went straight for Kathryn Alison’s head on the other side of the net.
“Fuck!” Kathryn spiked her racket on the ground, right next to the birdie she missed. Jasmine stayed close to the net but didn’t say anything. Kathryn had been near-rabid through the whole match, growling, baring her teeth, looking like a fucking lunatic every time she served or smacked the birdie back to Jasmine and Gwen. “What is wrong with me today?” True. She wasn’t hitting many volleys. She was more likely to run out of bounds or completely miss the birdie until it was hitting her in the face.
Eva went to her, wrapping a supportive arm around her friend’s shoulder and taking her to the corner for a pep talk. The two of them were tall enough to peer over the net, but they huddled, the one hissing at the other as Jasmine was pretty sure she heard some tears.
“Wow,” Gwen said. “Someone is PMSing.”
Jasmine wouldn’t speculate. “Damn,” she muttered. “Rich girls are competitive, huh?”
“You really have no idea.” Gwen twirled her racket in her hand. “Especially those two. Got a lot to prove. Pressure sucks.”
The two blondes came back to the game, the birdie tossed over the net for Jasmine to serve. When she smacked it over the net, she dove to hit it back, since Eva did a bang-up job hitting it before it was barely on her side.
The longest volley in the sports club’s history commenced. Gwen hit, Eva hit, Jasmine hit, Kathryn hit. That poor white birdie was abused to near-death as four women raced around the courts with their rackets halfway up in the air.
“Get it!” Eva shouted, the birdie going over her head.
“Mine!” Sure enough, Kathryn whacked it with such strength that it flew over the net.
Into Jasmine’s face.
“Ow!” This was worse than Kathryn taking it in the forehead. That was a bop compared to this. Jasmine staggered around the court before finally sinking to her knees, since that’s when the pain exploded against her nose. Blood began to flow down her face.
“Aw, fuck.” Eva ducked beneath the net with Kathryn following. “Look what you did. Fell the one brunette in the bunch. Isn’t that some sort of discrimination?”
“Er,” Kathryn said. “Sorry.”
Gwen saw the blood and instantly backed away, citing how ill even a nosebleed made her feel. Jasmine, meanwhile, gasped with her hand over her mouth, bracing against the waves of pain that kept overtaking her face.
“It ain’t broken, is it?” Eva knelt in front of Jasmine and pried her hand away. “Ew! Well, I don’t think it’s broken. Just a bit busted.”
“Thanks,” Jasmine said through the pain.
“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Eva helped Jasmine stand up, brushing off some dirt from her sports top and leading her to the ladies’ locker rooms. “No, no, I got this. Besides, Miss Jasmine and I need to have a little chat anyway.”
There wasn’t another soul there that weekday afternoon. Jasmine dropped on the nearest bench while Eva pulled a complimentary first aid kit from a nearby bin.
“Nasty, but don’t worry. It looks messy. Painful. Don’t think it’s broken, though. Yikes.”
“Don’t say that,” Jasmine said with a whiny voice. Her nose hurt with her hand on it, but it hurt even more when she moved her hand away. She didn’t know what that meant. I’ve never broken my nose before. Granted, she was pretty sure it wasn’t broken now… just mad. Still, Jasmine couldn’t exactly say that she was used to abusing her nose.
“Hold still.” Cotton touched Jasmine’s face. Whenever Eva moved it away, it became covered in more blood. Jasmine’s blood. Ho boy. “Let me get this cleaned up and see what we’re dealing with. Tch. I played soccer in high school and undergrad. You think I don’t know broken noses? Or how to take care of them?”
“I didn’t say anything…”
“Blood everywhere in soccer,” Eva continued to mutter as she dabbed Jasmine’s face. “Skinned knees… bruised tail bones. Nobody gets out of it without a scar or two. See?” She pulled her leg up and pointed to a white line on one of her long limbs. “Sophomore year of high school. Some bitch shoved me so hard my father nearly sued the pants off her father.”
Jasmine didn’t speak. How the hell do I respond to that? She didn’t know anything about anyone suing anyone else anywhere.
“Sheesh, Kathryn sure fucked you in the face.” Eva laughed as she put some alcohol on a piece of gauze. “You’d think she was out to get you.”
There went Jasmine’s gut. “What’s going on with her? She’s always so angry… lately.” To be fair, Kathryn Alison always looked angry. Or unamused. Or bewildered that someone was talking to her. Did she realize she had a permanent bitch face? Or was she so rich and privileged that nobody stood a chance with her attitude? How did she get such a laid back boyfriend? Is he into stone cold women? Probably. Kathryn was a known Domme – well, switch, Jasmine supposed. She didn’t really keep up with the sexual identities of her fiancée’s fellow elites.
“She’s not angry,” Eva said brusquely. The alcohol stung against Jasmine’s skin, but she braved it, sucking in her breath as opposed to squealing like a cut pig. “She’s stressed out.”
“Oh. Why?” Anything was better than thinking about the dull ache on Jasmine’s face.
Yet when Eva leveled a hard gaze at her, Jasmine regretted asking anything. “Not that it’s any business of yours,” she began, tossing the bloody tissues into the trash, “but she’s running herself ragged with this charity she’s trying to start up. Nobody will help her since they’re all busy with their own bullshit, or so they say. I mean, I’m not much better, right? I barely have time to come to the gym and work out.”
Jasmine nodded. “Try planning a wedding.”
“Yeah, well, thanks to you I’m going to a wedding every month the first half of this year, and I hate weddings, so yours better be fucking brilliant.”
“I’m trying.”
“Good.” Eva sat back and admired her handiwork. “Your nose isn’t broken. It might bleed a little, but it’s not broken. Gonna hurt like fuck for a few days, though. Oh well, if anyone asks, tell them I smacked you. People expect me to be too gruff for my own good.”
“I guess.” Jasmine was still hung up on the other thing. “Are you sure she’s not mad at me? I always feel like she resents my presence.”
“Dearie, she resents everyone’s presence. Even mine.”
“Really?”
“Sure looks it. You get used to it, though. She always has heavy shit on her mind. Leave her alone and she’ll leave you alone. Like a cougar. I think.”
“It’s… well, at the engagement party… her boyfriend…”
“Her boyfriend is a fucknut and they get their jollies off making each other jealous. Except neither of them actually gets j
ealous.”
“He was…”
“That? She doesn’t care about that. Trust me. She’s probably forgotten already.”
“Really?”
Eva straddled the bench Jasmine sat on and looked her in the eye. Whoa. She has a heavy glare. Speaking of bitch faces… “Unless she tells you – and me – otherwise, Kathryn doesn’t have anything against you. You gave her that damned cat, for fuck’s sake.”
“That’s true.”
“Honestly, she likes you more than most of the other women in our circles. She doesn’t hang out with a lot of people. It’s mostly me, her boyfriend, and their parents. She’s overworked and jaded. Don’t take it personally. If you’ve never been invited to one of her girl parties, it’s because she doesn’t host any. If she does, then I haven’t been invited either… and I would crash that shit anyway.”
Jasmine wanted to snort, but her nose hurt too much. “Good to know. Thanks. I guess I worry too much about keeping people happy.”
Eva held her gaze for more than a few seconds, but didn’t say anything. What was she thinking? That it was hopeless for Jasmine, who came from fucked up stock? Or that rich women worried about the same things? What perspective did a woman like Eva Warren even have? I know she’s not popular with most of the rich snobs either, but they kiss her ass when she’s around because of her family. Jasmine didn’t have that buffer. Eva, for all the “faults” that made snobs hate her, was still a type of royalty that left her untouchable. And undateable, if Jasmine were to believe certain rumors.
“She’s also kinda pissed that some woman who just moved here might take her title of richest girl around.”
“You mean Adrienne Thomas?”
“Who else?” Eva shrugged. “It’s irrational, but Kathryn’s worth a billion fucking dollars. Adrienne’s merger with your boyfriend’s company has made her filthier in Richtown. Speaking of him, though, are you going to his office anytime soon?”
“I had planned on going after this.” She had menus to show him. “Why?”