by Meghan Quinn
Breaking the silence, Page shouts, “She piddled her pants when we watched Saw IV. Legit, pee in her panties.”
Turning in her seat, Penelope shouts, “Page!”
“I made her queef before dinner,” I admit, remembering the awkward moment in her bedroom that still puts a smile on my face.
“Gavin!” she reprimands.
Both Page and I erupt in laughter as we pull up to the valet of Hotel Paragon.
Before I can even put the car in park, Penelope storms out of her passenger seat and heads to the trunk where she crosses her arms over her chest, a pout on her face, and waits for us to exit as well.
“Jeez, she’s sensitive,” Page laughs. “Can’t take a little joke. Did she really queef?”
I shut off the car and turn to her. “What do you think? I fucked her like a jackhammer, making her come twice before dinner, the girl was bound to have air escape.”
“Oh God.” Page licks her lips and brushes her hand across her neck. “Penelope is right, you do talk dirty.” She shakes her head, clearing her thoughts, and mutters under her breath. “Man, I need to get laid.”
Chuckling while I let myself out of my car, I flip the fob to the valet attendant who salutes me with a “Mr. Saint,” and then help Page out from the back. She brushes off her clothes while I tend to a wounded Penelope.
Walking up behind her, I wrap my arms around her waist and speak closely to her ear. She tenses from my touch but I brush it off, she can act mad all she wants, the minute I get her in my villa, she’ll be begging for my cock. “You’re fucking adorable when you get mad.”
“Yeah, well you’re a dick.”
“You don’t mean that,” I trail kisses along her neck causing her body to melt into mine. I knew it wouldn’t take much. “Fuck, you smell like me. If that isn’t the sexiest thing ever, I don’t know what is.”
“Hey, not fair,” Page says, interrupting us. “I can’t put the moves on her to ask for her forgiveness.” Page pauses in deep thought and then puckers her lips and closes her eyes. “On second thought…” she leans forward, lips first, aiming for Penelope who pushes back, causing Page to plant a big old wet one on the valet’s arm as he reaches for one of their bags. “When did you grow a mustache…” her words are cut off when she opens her eyes to see her face inches away from the terrified valet’s arm. “Err… hello there.” She wiggles her fingers at the boy and puts distance between them. “Consider that a down payment on a tip.”
“Okay,” the boy eyes her skeptically.
“Wait!” Page shouts, understanding crossing her features. “I don’t mean that as a sexual down payment. I know I just told Gavin I need to get laid but I didn’t mean by you. Not that you’re not attractive!” she back pedals. “You’re quite the looker, a strong lad with beefy muscles.” She squeezes his arm and squints. “Eh, with muscles.”
“Page, you can shut up now,” Penelope helps her.
Page motions to zip up her lips and then clasps her hands together, stepping away from the poor nineteen year old who right about now wants to crawl under a car out of embarrassment.
“Would you like the bags brought to your villa, Mr. Saint?” the boy asks, avoiding all eye contact with Page.
“Put them on hold for now. I’ll call down with more information in a bit.” From my money clip, I pull out a hundred and hand it to him as he smiles with gratitude.
I escort Page and Penelope into the lobby and guide them toward the control room where I know Graham is currently working. I figure if I corner him with both girls in tow, he will be less likely to say no than if I asked him by myself.
“Do you ladies mind waiting in the B room for a second? I need to go grab someone.”
“Not at all,” Page coos, looking around.
Still a little salty, Penelope just nods and follows me in the room. She starts to walk to one of the chairs when I grab her hand and close the space between us. “Hey.” I press my index finger under her chin so she’s forced to look into my dark eyes. “When we get back to my villa, I promise to make it up to you. You have my word on that.”
“And how would you make it up to me?” she tests.
Gliding my hand down to her ass, I grip it tightly and speak directly into her ear, spreading goose bumps over her skin. “First, I will dive my tongue into that sweet pussy of yours until you’re on the verge of coming on my face, then, I’ll drive my cock inside of you and fuck you senseless, making you scream my name from the sheer force. And I won’t fucking come until you do… twice.”
Her breathing is heavy and her hands that are now gripped onto my back are digging into my skin from pure arousal.
“Hell, I would take it,” Page sounds off, waving her hand in front of her face, sitting in one of the chairs with her legs crossed.
Shaking my head in mirth at Penelope’s best friend, I pull away and kiss her forehead softly. “Be right back, baby.”
“Okay,” she barely croaks out as I shut the door behind me.
Fuck. I rub the back of my neck as I gather myself. Even my little speech got me fired up. The quicker I get this conversation over with, the quicker I can get Penelope back in bed. Despite the amount of times I’ve taken her today, I still crave her, to the point that I’m starving to have her pussy wrapped tightly around my dick.
I push my key card in the slot of the control room door and enter, looking over all the employees hard at work. Off to the side, Graham is leaning against the wall, a knowing look in his eyes and a glass of what I can only assume is scotch in his hand.
“Look who it is, gentlemen,” Graham talks to the room, his eyes fixed on mine. “The Gavin Saint, the pussy whipped ass hat who pulled his dick out of his girl’s vagina long enough to grace us with his presence.”
He was pushing my buttons for a reason, he must have seen us walk in the hotel. I swear the man has nothing better to do with his life than watch over every move I make in the hotel.
“Did you implant a chip in me while I was sleeping so you can watch over me every second of your life?”
Tipping his glass back and draining the contents down his throat, he sets it to the side and then strides toward me, his hands in his pockets. “What are you up to, Saint?”
“Nothing,” I smile, giving him my best grin. If I wasn’t about to ask him to put up Page and Penelope in the hotel, I would have sent my fist flying into his face for his earlier comment. I will after… maybe. I don’t want to jinx the girls’ chances.
“I don’t believe you. Why are Page and Penelope in the B room?”
Ahh, so he only saw us go into the B room, well that helps my case. If he saw me down at valet with both of them, their bags being hoisted out of my trunk I would be up against a tidal wave when it came to asking him.
Thinking quickly and using my straight face, I say, “Something happened in the poker suite the other day that Penelope needs to talk to you about. She was nervous to talk to you alone, so Page is here to comfort her.”
Graham drops his tough guy act and runs his hand through his hair. “Shit, really? Is she okay?”
“I think you should talk to her,” I say somberly.
“Fuck, just what I need. Who was the asshole?” Graham asks, charging through the control room. “Was it Ramos? That dickhead is one more ass pinch away from being removed from the roster for good.”
I don’t give him answer, I just let him think what he wants until he’s in the B room. I close the door behind us and block the only exit.
Straightening his tie, Graham walks over to Penelope and kneels in front of her. A horrified expression crosses her face as she looks over at me, questions in her eyes. I hide the smirk that threatens to peek out. Keep it still, Saint.
“What happened? I’m going to need to know every detail in order to file a proper report.”
Mouth agape, eyes wild, Penelope looks for answers. Wanting to play just a little bit more, I nod at her. “Go ahead, baby. Tell him everything.”
Lookin
g between both of us, she’s at a loss for words, completely unsure of what’s happening. Page has the same expression on her face.
“This is a safe place,” Graham adds. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”
The room is still in silence until Page lifts her finger in question. “Um, is this about the queef that happened earlier? Pretty sure we don’t have to go into detail about it or file a report.”
Graham stands up, a little caught off guard. He straightens his jacket and glances at me for a second before returning his attention back to Penelope. “You queefed in the high roller suite?”
“What? No!” A very pissed off Penelope looks my way. Damn it Page and her blonde hair.
“It was in our apartment, but that’s not why Gavin wants us to live here. It’s not like it was a gas bomb, setting off the entire apartment like a grenade. I didn’t even know it happened until we were driving over here.”
“Seriously,” Penelope grinds out. “Shut up, Page.”
“Wait.” Graham presses his fingers to his head as he tries to understand. “What the fuck is going on? What’s this about them living here?”
Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I lean against the door and say, “They need a place to stay, their apartment is unsuitable for two young women, two very attractive young women.”
“Aw, you think I’m attractive?” Page asks, winking at me. Penelope whacks her in the stomach, clearly over Page’s antics tonight.
“This was a bad idea,” she stands from her chair. “Forget about this whole conversation. Come on Page.” Seizing her by the arm, Penelope pulls up her friend and walks her toward the door where I stand solid in place. “Move, Gavin.”
I shake my head. “No can do, baby. You’re not going back to that apartment. It’s entirely too unsafe for you.”
“We’ve been living there for three years and nothing’s happened. We’re fine.”
I grind my teeth together, trying to hold back my temper. “You’re not going back there,” I bite out.
Penelope crosses her arms in challenge, preparing for battle. “What, you stick your dick inside me and now you think you can tell me what to do?”
“Pretty much.”
“Wrong.” She pokes me in the chest. “That’s not how this works, Gavin. I’m a big girl. I know what I’m doing. I’ve taken care of myself up until this point, I don’t need you swooping in on your white horse trying to ‘save’ us. We’re fine, right Page?”
Biting her lip, Page looks at the ground but is brought back to the conversation when Penelope elbows her. “Yeah,” she forcefully says. “We’re fine.” From the tone in Page’s voice, I know they’re not fine. It can’t be easy coming home late at night, drug deals going on in your parking lot and loud, knife stabbing fights sounding off in the apartment next to you. I don’t care if they made the damn place homey, it’s not fit for them, it’s not fit for the girl I’m fucking dating.
“Is that right? Care to explain the little conversation we overhead before we left your place? The one about some hooker stabbing her pimp.”
“They were having sex while we were packing. It’s how they roll,” Penelope answers flippantly.
“Well it’s not how I fucking roll,” I say, stepping closer to Penelope who visibly gulps under my hard stare. “No woman of mine will be staying at an apartment like that. There is no fucking way I will allow it. You have no choice in the matter. I protect what’s mine, Penelope. The minute I came inside you, I claimed you. I fucking branded you. That means I protect you. I take care of you.” My voice trails off, becoming horse from the intensity in the conversation.
I never expected to become so territorial over a woman but I knew the minute I walked back into her apartment, it would be the last time they would eat a dinner there. I refuse to let her go back to that hellhole where she could be raped, stabbed, or drugged.
“Where do you get off—“
“Inside of you,” I interrupt her, a smile spreading across my face from the annoyed look she’s giving me.
“Gavin…”
“Penelope…” I counter.
“Graham…” Page says, joining in. We draw our attention to her to see her shrug her shoulders. “What? I was feeling left out.”
“Fuck, this is probably one of the most asinine conversations I’ve ever been a part of,” Graham says. “Jesus. Just to get out of that hellhole, take one of the suites but you’re paying rent. This isn’t a free ride.”
“I’ll be paying their rent,” I interrupt. Penelope’s eyes narrow in slits at my announcement, but she wisely keeps quiet. She knows as well as I do that they can’t afford to stay here. I can, so that means I’m paying.
“Whatever,” Graham huffs. “Just make sure your checks clear, and for the love of God, stay out of my way.” He glances at Page with his last sentence and then pushes me to the side, taking off down the hall back to the control room.
Smiling back at the girls, I say, “Well that was easier than I expected.”
“You thought that was easy?” Penelope asks. “That was torture, thanks to Page.”
We both turn to her and instantly notice the change in her demeanor. “Hey, are you okay?” Penelope asks, a gentle hand resting on her friend’s shoulder.
She nods, “Yeah, let’s just get our bags and get settled. I’m tired.” Her voice is withdrawn, her eyes are cast down and in that moment, I know Graham has a lot of explaining to do.
Once the girls are settled in their modest suite, which is complete with a small kitchenette, living room and two bedrooms with connecting bathrooms, I talk to Penelope softly in their entryway. She looks back at Page’s room and says, “I’m going to stay here tonight. I want to make sure she’s okay.”
Not exactly what I had in mind but I can handle staying at her place now.
“Alright, let me go grab my stuff and I’ll stay over here.”
“No,” she shakes her head. “I need to have some girl time with her. You being here won’t help, especially if your hands are all over me.”
“I can keep my hands to myself.” She gives me a knowing glare. “I can try really hard.”
“No.” Standing on her tippy toes, she plants a kiss on my lips and guides me out the door.
“But…”
She presses her fingers to my lips. “Good night, Gavin.” With a wink, she shuts the door in my face.
Graham is about to get one hell of a beat down, that motherfucker! Cock blocking me even from afar.
Chapter twenty-six
**NELL**
I’m a nervous wreck as I pace back and forth backstage, waiting for the auditions to start. I’ve been through this process more times than I care to count, yet knowing Gavin will be sitting in the audience watching my every move, I’m a trembling mess.
“Oh, sweetheart,” my mother’s soft voice coos through the line as I hold my cell phone to my ear. I called her just minutes ago for a pep-talk, giving her the cliffnotes version of what has been happening in my life since Gavin entered—well, forced his way—into the picture. “You’re going to do great. You know this performance like the back of your hand. Just go out there and show them what you’ve got.”
“But...” I stammer. “He’s going to be watching,” I finish on a somewhat childish whisper.
“And you’ll knock his socks off,” she replies adamantly. God, I really love my mom. “And speaking of your young man, I’ll expect a longer phone call from you telling me all about him. It’s not every day my daughter becomes so enamored by a boy.” Just the sound of my mom referring to Gavin as a boy makes me laugh. If she only knew. Not that I’d ever share the nitty-gritty details.
“Okay, Momma. I gotta go, but I’ll call you after and let you know how it goes, okay?”
“Okay, my sweet girl. Knock ‘em dead.”
“I will. I love you, and I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“I love you, too, baby.”
I disconnect the call and drop the phone ba
ck into my purse before stowing it in the little cubbies back stage.
“Okay!” the stagehand calls out in a loud voice. “Can I get…” her eyes scan the clipboard in her hand, “…numbers one through twenty to come to the front of the stage.”
I look down at the paper number pinned to my camisole. Number thirteen. I’m not sure if being assigned that number is a curse or a lucky charm, either way, I don’t have time to contemplate the answer because I’m up. I’m up. I make my way to the front of the stage with the rest of the girls auditioning today, careful to keep my eyes off the enigmatic man sitting in one of the audience seats, the only one there other than the people involved with the auditioning process.
“All right,” a voice calls and I instantly recognize her as the director for all of La Magie’s shows. “Since this is the callback auditions we won’t be going through choreography.” Wait… what? Call back auditions? My stomach riots as the nervous butterflies begin kicking up an even bigger fuss. My eyes briefly scan the rows of empty seats until I land on Gavin’s handsome face. He’s smiling at me with all the confidence in the world and, suddenly, a sense of ease washes over me. He believes I can do this. My parents believe I can do this. I believe I can do this. I’ve auditioned enough times that I know all the performances by heart. I don’t need to run through the stupid choreography. When the director calls out the name of the performance we’ll be doing, my heart kicks with excitement. It’s my favorite one, the one that truly forecasts my skills as a gymnast.
“Even numbers,” the director calls. “I want you doing floor work once the first scene finishes. Odd numbers, you’ll be doing the aerial acrobatics.”
Yes! It takes everything in my not to fist bump the air. I freaking kill with aerial acrobatics. Before I know it, we’re in place and the slow, melodic music begins. I move through each step like I was born to do it, swaying my body to the low beat, landing each move with perfection. As I dance, I can’t remember the last time I felt so confident in an audition. With each turn, each tumble, all I can think is I got this. The music quickly changes, the beat coming faster, heavier and my body guides me over to the long silk drape hanging from the ceiling.