Schooled 4.0
Page 53
I SENT A driver to get Char for the fundraiser, knowing I was only going to piss her off by not picking her up. That knowledge gave me a satisfaction like no other. I can’t drive to her condo and pick her up like we’re going on an actual date. I’m already too close to the edge of the precipice. I don’t need any more of those close call temptations at her doorstep. I’m not about to lose my senses over my sister’s best friend.
Watching the car pull up to the curb outside the Renaissance hotel, I thumb through the emails on my phone. Char is going to be irate about the driver, so I don’t want it to seem like I’m expecting her rage.
The driver gets out and hurries around to the other side of the car, opening it chivalrously for Char to exit. Her long, sexy legs are the first to emerge from the vehicle, entrapping my sights immediately. Her heels are so high that we’ll be eye-to-eye all night, lips within inches of each other. I’ve yet to see any fabric or material of a dress as my eyes travel up and down her legs, focusing finally on her thighs.
Fuck.
I cannot believe I did this to myself. I look away, shoving my shades over my eyes. Too bad they don’t have something similar to shove over my groin in situations like this.
The driver offers her his hand. Taking it, Char exits the car as the silk of her black and silver dress covers her legs, hiding her finest assets. Knowing she deliberately hiked up her dress to tease me—and probably the driver too—reminds me that I’m still the one calling the shots, and she’s still the one doing all the work, making all the effort.
“Where’s your phone,” Char asks the driver, still looping her arm through his. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he hands her his free Verizon flip phone. The look on Char’s face is classic as she grimaces at the 2001 throwback. Taking his phone, she taps on it for a few seconds and hands it back to him. “Now, you’ve got my number. Don’t forget to use it.”
Shocking the driver—and me—she kisses his lips quickly, flips her long, blond hair in his face, and walks over to me. “Jasper, darling, I’m sorry for our tardiness. I know you’ve paid a lot of money for my company tonight. I’ll be sure to discount our next evening out,” she announces, loudly enough for a few heads to turn and begin to whisper.
“Jesus Christ, Char,” I grit through my teeth. “Cut it out. These people work for me for God’s sake.”
“And so do I,” she quips, batting her long lashes at me. I have to look away from her blue eyes and pouty face. Let’s get one thing straight. Char knows what she’s doing. She’s no novice. She’s an expert game-player. But this game isn’t one she’s going to win. “Should’ve picked me up yourself, handsome,” she states, running her nail along my jawline.
Tensing my muscles and grinding my teeth, I turn her toward the door, “Don’t make me regret this. I mean it.”
Stopping abruptly, Char spins to face me, smiling widely, “Oh you’re going to regret it. Make no mistake about it, you’re going to regret every single minute of this night.”
“WELL GARRITY, IT looks like you’ve at least gotten something right these days,” Blaine Landers sneers, pulling a chair in between Char and me. “So Gorgeous, what’re you doing with the likes of this loser.”
“Getting paid,” Char quips, “but not nearly enough.”
“Ohhh Garrity, I had no idea you had to dig into your pockets to get a date—but Hell, that makes sense,” Blaine says, wrapping his arm around Char. “What’s your name, Gorgeous?”
“Let’s just stick with ‘Gorgeous.’ I mean, there’s no reason to call me anything else,” Char coos, flipping her hair into my face.
“Damn, she’s a spitfire, Garrity. I like that. What’re you drinking, Gorgeous?”
“Ginger Ale. My date here has deemed this a ‘dry’ night, and believe me, being with him, I’m drier than I’ve been—”
“Charlene, a word with you,” I snarl, yanking her up by her arm. “Now!”
Dragging her through the hall toward the lobby, eyes follow our every move. I don’t typically enjoy making a spectacle of myself. I should’ve known better than to bring Char to event like this. She doesn’t have a sophisticated or appropriate bone in her entire body.
“Owww Jasper, you’re hurting me,” Char whines, whipping her arm out of my grip.
“Well good, because you’re killing me,” I counter. “This is an important night for my company. Do you think you could muster up a modicum of grace and class this evening?”
“Well shit Jasper, I figured that since you were treating me like the scum of the earth that I might as well act like it,” she says, challenging me. “I figured that I’d just follow your lead.”
“What in the Hell are you talking about?”
“You sent some schmuck to pick me up. You couldn’t even do it yourself. If you wanted some hot, slut on your arm tonight and that’s it, I wish you would’ve warned me first,” Char says, honestly. “I can play any part you want me to, but for fuck’s sake, warn me first.” She spins on her heels and begins to walk away. Stopping, she adds, “I thought we were friends, Jasper.”
Leaving me alone in the lobby, I realize she’s right. I haven’t been fair to her. I know she’s only here, because I paid off her debt and convinced my attorney to get her out of the “drink tank” rehab retreat. She never asked me to do either of those things for her—I just did them. I’m a dick. She’s right. Char should be here as a favor—not as an obligation. Above all that, I’ve been treating her like a common hooker. Total dick.
Speaking of dicks, Blaine Landers is already moving in for the kill. Char’s nearly on his lap while he whispers some line of bullshit into her ear. That dude is bad news. Eh, not really bad news. He’s just the Lex Luther to my Superman, the Joker to my Batman. The michigan to my Ohio State. Let’s just consider him my archenemy, my biggest rival.
Garrity Advertising is always up against BL Advertising for the biggest clients and contracts. Blaine plays dirty—very dirty. Watching his thumb circle around the bare, lower part of Char’s back, my protective and jade-shaded juices kick into overdrive. He may be dirty, but I’m not squeaky clean myself.
“Char, baby, would you like to dance?” I ask, standing in front of Char, blocking Blaine from her view.
“Dance? Baby? Ummm… yeah… yes, of course,” she stammers, standing hesitantly. Interlocking her fingers in mine, I lead her to the dance floor. “Jasper, you do realize that there’s nobody dancing right now, don’t you?” Char asks.
“Since when do you care about everyone watching you?” I counter, spinning her into my arms, holding her tightly.
“I don’t, but I know you hate it,” she answers.
“I can’t hate it that much if I brought you here with me tonight,” I say, grinning at her. “I knew what I was getting myself into. Having Charlene Palmer on your arm isn’t exactly discretionary.”
“Brought? You mean ‘transported.’ And, that’s true, I’m pretty much the best looking woman here tonight,” she says, smiling and batting her eyelashes at me. She’s right. Not one person here even compares to how strikingly beautiful and breathtakingly gorgeous she is. No one anywhere, honestly.
“Alright fine, I’m sorry. You’re right. I was wrong. I should’ve picked you up… knocked on your door… opened the car door for you… I should’ve done it all. I’m sorry,” I apologize, reveling in the feel of the soft skin on her bare back.
Fuck.
She’s impossible to resist. I hate this. Cannot fucking stand it, actually. Hearing her sigh as she lays her head on my shoulder makes every nerve in my body stand on edge, heightens the awareness of our closeness, of how perfectly her tall, lithe, sexy body fits into mine. And my God, can she move. Just feeling her move her body, slowly to the soft music makes my mind wander… wander to places it has no business going.
“You know, Jasper, you don’t have to be so cold all the time. It wouldn’t hurt you to chisel away at some of that icy exterior every now and then,” she says, eyeing me seriously.
“Fire and Ice, eh? I guess we don’t work so well together, do we?” she asks, grinning. “Although, fire isn’t so bad any way, ya know? ‘Some say the world will end in fire/Some say in ice./From what I’ve tasted of desire/I hold with those who favor fire.”
Cutting her off, I finish, “But if it had to perish twice,/I think I know enough of hate/To say that for destruction ice/Is also great/And would suffice.”
“Nice job, Garrity. Nobody can say that you aren’t a well-educated man,” she compliments. “But truthfully, nobody wants anything that would just ‘suffice,’ Jasper. They want the fire, the heat, the blazing hot heat,” she says, pressing her chest against mine as we sway to the music.
“I’ve got to hand it to you, Palmer, I never thought you’d bust out a Frost poem like that,” I admit, seeing her in a whole new light and wishing I didn’t feel her blazing heat throughout my entire body.
“Who?” she asks, confused.
“Robert Frost, the poet who wrote “Fire and Ice.” Hello? The poem we just recited,” I reply, staring at her in equal confusion.
“Uhhh, you mean Stephenie Meyer, right? That poem was in the third Twilight book, Eclipse,” she announces, reminding me of what is wrong with today’s so-called readers.
“Does anyone read real literature anymore? My God, it’s like I’m surrounded by horny teenagers of all ages nowadays,” I say, shaking my head and twirling her around under my arm.
“Suave moves there, buddy,” Char compliments, rounding back into my arms. “And just because I’m not devouring Tolstoy or Hemingway doesn’t mean I’m not a reader or that I don’t enjoy reading. Why does it matter what I’m reading as long as I’m reading and embracing literature?
“Because that crap you’re reading isn’t liter—”
“Garrity, how about sharing your… ahem… date,” Landers asks, cutting in between us. “You’d like, that wouldn’t you, Sugar?”
I don’t want to let her go—especially into the arms of that bastard. But things were heating up, physically and intellectually. It’s better if she just gets all hot and bothered by Blaine. As much as I hated the intrusion, I need to welcome the interruption and let her go.
“Absolutely Landers, this is a fundraiser, an event for charity. Take her for a whirl. I don’t care. Consider her my donation,” I announce, backing off. Seeing the rage in Char’s eyes, I know I’ve gone too far—exactly far enough to douse the fire that was beginning to burn.
JASPER WANTS TO play dirty? Filthy is what he’s going to get.
Blaine immediately starts nuzzling my neck on the dance floor. He’s a perfect contrast to Jasper’s features. Jasper’s dirty blond hair and icy blue eyes rival Blaine’s dark eyes and dark hair, making him the perfect villain, the perfect opponent in a game like this.
Actually, Blaine looks more like he could be Jocelyn and Janelle’s brother, than Jasper does. All the Garrity girls are green-eyed and dark haired. The Garrity men have lighter hair and blue eyes. It’s fitting that the entire family completes and opposes each other. They’re a perfect combination of light and dark, tall and short, whimsical and serious. The whole group makes a perfect, contradictory, but yet well-fitting family. It always comes back to them. Everything in my life comes back to them. The Garrities are my ultimate wish and my biggest regret. I would give anything to have grown up in a family as loving, as close, and as beautiful as theirs.
The only times in my life Jasper has ever noticed me or remotely found me interesting is if he’s trying to help me or fix something for me. Janelle claims that he’s got “Savior Syndrome,” like he’s looking for his damsel in distress, the chick who needs her prince charming to swoop in and save the day.
I’m not that chick.
Far from being that chick.
However, he seems to always find a way to be the one to bail me out of my problems. Even last week, I didn’t call him when I got my proverbial “one phone call.” I called Jocelyn, since Janelle was already in flight to Cabo. I was mortified to find Jasper sitting outside of the police station when I was finally released. Instead of humbly thanking him and showing my humiliation, I played it off as I normally would.
I gave up on setting my sights on Jasper Garrity three years ago. Let’s get something straight. I’m no fucking idiot. Jasper is the ultimate catch. The epitome of the most eligible bachelor. Anyway, a few years back, we all went to Put-In-Bay for Christmas in July. We had a blast. Even Marcus was enjoyable that weekend. Well, enjoyable may be taking it a little too far; tolerable would be more accurate.
Jasper had just landed some huge client, and he was downright fun and hysterical all weekend long. Typically, Jasper is kind of a tight ass. Yeah, he makes serious bank, but he keeps that money lodged so far up his ass, it’d take a proctologist to dislodge it. During that weekend at Put-In-Bay, he was spending jack like a dying man. None of us could figure out what came over him. He was a fucking blast. Jasper dished out money to people left and right, daring them to do things, just for kicks. Initially, it was just Marcus and Rick he was daring to do shit. Then, Janelle, Jocelyn, and I got into the fun. Finally, it was everyone within earshot. He must’ve dropped ten grand that night.
Well, since Jocelyn had over 500 bucks of Jasper’s cash burning a hole in her purse, she offered me 100 of it to sit on Jasper’s lap and kiss him. That was a no-brainer, especially since Janelle doubled if I tried to make it the best kiss of my life. Hell, I’d kissed him before, and I certainly didn’t need 200 bucks for a repeat performance. I gladly accepted.
Strutting around the table to where Jasper sat, I hiked my skirt up around my waist, wiggling my ass, waiting for the whistles from Rick and Marcus for revealing my very sexy thong and ass in front of everyone. Marcus gave me the accolades I knew were coming. The only sound I heard from Rick was the “unnhh” from Jocelyn punching him in the stomach for looking.
Slowly swinging my one leg over Jasper’s head, I stood straddling him, looking down. Easing myself down onto this lap, his eyes blazed, a look I’ve seen many times on men before. I knew I had him. I knew what I was doing to him. I was glad as fuck too, because I’d wanted him for long enough. Thank fuck this was going to be a night both of us would remember.
Jasper closed his eyes as I inched closer, and then he whispered, “I’ll give you one grand to not do this.”
So, my purse got 1,000 dollars richer.
Everyone went nuts. I was obviously the big financial winner of the night. But in that moment, I knew something about Jasper that his sisters obviously did not know. Jasper Garrity was a card-carrying, rainbow-loving, homosexual man. And that was perfectly fine by me. I’ve got no problem with anyone’s sexuality. What people do or don’t do behind closed doors is none of my damn business. However, I just didn’t want to make a point of throwing myself at gay men. That’s just setting yourself up for disappointment. It’s futile really.
Jasper Garrity had no sexual tendencies toward me. No man, none that I have ever encountered in my entire life, had ever turned me down. Not one. It was then that I made it my mission to catch him in the act of homosexual love for no other reason than to assuage my own ego from rejection.
I started stalking and following him, unbeknownst to any other member of the Garrity family. What I found was simple: Jasper was not gay—far from it. He liked women, lots of women. He slept with the sexiest, most exotic women I’ve ever seen. He didn’t hold back either, taking them to fancy restaurants, out on elaborate dates, shacking up in ritzy hotels. I quickly learned that it was not that he preferred men, he preferred women, many woman. What he did not want was I. Jasper Garrity was not into me, not attracted to me, and was 100% immune to my tricks.
So I gave up on him.
Kind of.
I still want to fuck the ever-loving shit out of him. I do. I cannot help
it. Just the fact that he doesn’t want me makes me want him even more. When I saw the caliber of women he was bedding, I knew I just had to join the ranks—Hell, I want to top the fucking ranks.
Men don’t turn me down.
Never.
Jasper’s rejections are a total, unbelievable turn on for me. It’s crazy Janelle thinks it’s all a joke, funny as Hell when I throw myself at Jasper. Janelle thinks I’m just “playing around” to make Jasper blush and uncomfortable—which I’m getting damn good at. She has no idea how much I fantasize and want her big brother. Jocelyn might not be so oblivious, but she never lets on. One way or another, I am going to fuck that man, fuck him so good that he will never forgive himself for turning me down.
Leading Blaine to the dance floor, I know this is going to be a cake walk. It won’t be long until Jasper comes along to break up the show I’m about to put on in front of all of his co-workers. Blaine wraps his arms around me, pulling me against his solid chest. Thank God, Jasper’s biggest rival is smoking hot. It’s like hitting the jackpot with a quarter you found out on the street. Everyone’s a winner, here.
“God damn woman, you are so fucking sexy,” Blaine growls in my ear.
“You know it,” I smirk, tugging him by his tie until his lips are only inches from mine. There is nothing a man likes or wants more than a confident woman. Hell, I learned that in ninth grade. “So, what are you going to do about it?”
Blaine’s mouth closes in on mine in seconds. Like I said, cake walk. Hungrily, his tongue explores my mouth as his one hand caresses my back and the other grasps my neck. Admittedly, I much prefer Jasper’s tongue down my throat and all over the rest of my body, but Blaine’s isn’t bad at all—not in the least. This man’s got some serious game. If Jasper doesn’t want to play, it looks like I’m getting my kicks elsewhere.
When the band takes a break to introduce the charities involved in the evening’s festivities, Blaine leads me back to our table. Without asking me, Blaine says, “Jasper, I’m going to take the lady home tonight. You don’t mind, do you?”