My Rival Darling

by Kenna North

  The car dropped me off outside of a classic brownstone in Brooklyn – typical neighborhood for bookish, hipster types. I thrust my hands in the pockets of my trench coat and climbed the stairs. The weather was appropriately cold and wintery for a late January night in New York. Another couple of days and it would be February – much the same in terms of weather.

  It was spring I looked forward to, with warm days strolling in the park and thinking about the possibilities. Women liked to wear less in the spring, show off more. By summer, it was a veritable peep show. I had to admit, I was a woman who liked to see other women show something. There was no chivalry here, not even faked. I liked women and I liked them as naked as possible.

  Except Alexis. She was the one woman I loved to take my time with, to uncover or even fuck partially-clothed, because I couldn’t wait to explore her. It’d be pure bliss to pull aside her panties and finger her, to thrust my tongue up inside her, while she leaned back against her desk and moaned my name.

  Shit. Ever since she proposed the bet, she dominated my thoughts. How could I possibly spend the next two weeks trying to get another woman to declare her love for me when I had a thing for Alexis? I was acting like a randy teenager again and it was ridiculous.

  The raw winter air cut at me as I inhaled and exhaled. No more playing. If I wanted Alexis, I had a bet to win.

  I walked into the building and ascended the stairs to the third floor, where I heard the murmur of voices beyond the apartment door. It sounded like the usual boring intellectual chatter and when the door opened, I saw a sea of tweed suits, conservative buns, and glasses. Fantastic. What were the odds I would see the history professor who always gave me a stern look for not taking his class too seriously?

  Still, I smiled at the hostess, handed her a bottle of wine, and let her take my coat. The author must have been the man standing in the center of the room, a book in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, extolling the virtues of some other writer at the moment. Shane was standing to the far left of the semi-circle of people gathered around him, so I plucked a glass of wine from a serving tray and sidled up to her.

  “Christ, Woodward, what’s a nice editor like you doing in a place like this?” I muttered when I was within earshot. I knew with my white button-down shirt open and the scalloped Henley tank top under it, the eye was drawn to my small, firm breasts. And where I was standing gave Shane a line of sight right down my shirt. She’d be able to see I didn’t wear a bra, if she wanted to look closely.

  She turned and scowled at me. “The same thing as you, Cahill – celebrating Lee’s accomplishment.”

  “And what accomplishment is that? His ability to put words on the page?”

  “In a coherent manner, yes.” She arched an eyebrow and I was surprised at how put-out she looked by my presence. “You’ve never come to one of these before. Have you run out of women to screw or something?”

  Her words hit far too close to the truth and I turned to watch the author. With a low, “Or something like that,” I raised my wineglass to my lips.

  It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 7

  As I shrugged out of my coat and Krista whisked it from my arms, I stiffened with shock.

  Riley was here.

  What the hell was Riley doing at a book launch? She was infamous for avoiding anything that didn’t involve models, short skirts, and long legs. I always hit up the best parties. Always, even if they were of an intellectual bent, because it was the best way to keep my finger on the pulse of the city. Publishing was a cruel and volatile animal, with editors always looking to scoop material. This was a way to keep tabs on who was who, where they were, and what the latest, hottest story might be as far as they were concerned. If Shane Woodward thought Lee Height was worth a look, then that might be something I could bring back to the other staff editors at the magazine.

  “Thank you, Krista,” I said, turning to my date when she was back at my side. The country girl was very attentive, which I appreciated. She’d also let me dress her tonight, something else that made me happy. I couldn’t have her at a party like this in a turtleneck. Ugh. No way.

  Instead, I’d put her in the capable hands of our male stylist at the magazine and left with the New and Improved Krista. They had even taken her straight, boring hair, trimmed it, and then tamed it with some styling products. Now it had a modern, sleek look to it, with just enough spikiness to make her look sexy. Not dangerous-sexy, but wholesome-sexy.

  She still wasn’t my type and she could never look as good as Riley when it came to androgynous hotness. But Krista still looked damn good. The women here would be wetting their pants for her and then some. So I took her by the hand and led her to the small group gathered around the author. Riley was watching the man with an intense expression on her face, like she was concentrating hard on every word.

  “Riley,” I said, “is it that interesting or is your brain about to explode?”

  “Huh?” She started and blinked, then looked at me. “No. Sorry.”

  “Right, then. Krista, this is an old friend and schoolmate of mine, Riley Cahill. She also works with me at the magazine.”

  Krista extended her hand and said, “Nice to meet you, Riley.”

  “Yes, you too.” Riley shook Krista’s hand and then slid her gaze to me. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

  “Sure. Would you excuse me?” I smiled at Krista before leaving her side. We moved into the kitchen, which was a bustle of activity that would surely cover up any conversation we had. My mind was still on both Krista and Riley, comparing them side by side. But I asked, “Are you going to be okay, Riley?”

  “I’m…” She shook her head and pressed her fingers to her chin. The way she placed her arms framed her breasts and I couldn’t help but let my gaze move down, drawn to the softness there. “I’m not so sure this is a good idea.”

  “What are you talking about?” I brought my gaze back up to her face. “Just the other day you were complaining about not having new women to screw and this seemed like something fun to shake everything up.”

  “Yeah, but it also seems needlessly vicious.”

  I put my hands on Riley’s shoulders and held her gaze. “Hon, you are needlessly vicious. I think what’s going on is you feel like maybe you’ve lost your touch. Maybe I set you up with someone you’re simply incapable of seducing. It’s a little sad, really, to see the great and powerful Riley Cahill reduced to groveling at the feet of a woman like Shane Woodward. Still, maybe my selection was unfair. We can call off the bet. It’s boring the hell out of me, anyway.”

  “What?” Riley narrowed her eyes. “Call it off because you think I can’t close the deal?”

  “No offense, but…”

  “I can’t believe you think I’m not capable of doing this.” Riley swallowed her wine in one gulp and this time when she looked at me, her gaze was fierce. “You have no faith in my abilities?”

  “To seduce the bitch queen and then knock her down a peg? No. And that’s too bad, because I would love to see that.”

  “Would you?” Her breath caught and the way she looked at me, I realized there was something there – something unspoken between us.

  And why wouldn’t there be? Even years after our naughty indiscretions, that fire still lingered, still burned inside me. It was a heat I had never quite been able to escape. Of course, it had always seemed Riley was just fine moving on without me, taking one conquest after another in college and then as an adult. Never once had she come back to me and suggested she wanted something more, to continue our affair, to take it even further.

  My heart pounded so hard, I couldn’t breathe. Had she always wanted me, after all? Wanted me as much as I’d wanted her? If she did, then maybe I should drop this foolish bet now and just find out.

  “Riley,” I whispered, stepping closer. I could feel the heat radiating off her body and I let out a small sigh. It was the first time I ever wanted to just be with a woman. To just be
in her presence and to know she wanted me.

  “I’ll do this,” she said in a low voice. “I’ll do this and I’ll win.”

  “No, you don’t have to.” My hand trembled as I raised it. What I really wanted to do was press it to her chest and affirm she was a physical presence in front of me.

  “I do have to, if only to prove you wrong.” With that, she walked around me, back to the party.

  Back to her.

  And the sensation of my heart pounding changed from one of breathless desire to misery.

  Chapter 8

  How could Alexis think I couldn’t do this? That I wasn’t capable of…

  I clenched my fists and stalked back to the gathering, where the author had finally concluded his long-winded speech. Good. Now was my chance to show Alexis she was wrong about me. What kind of woman did she think I was? Someone who couldn’t get what she wanted out of a woman?

  Well, I wanted Alexis and if the only way to have her was by winning this bet then, fuck, I’d do it.

  I’d charm the pants off Shane Woodward, if that’s what it took. Though I shuddered at the thought of getting anywhere under her clothing, I’d go there if I had to, just to get the “I love you” out of her.

  And then when I’d won the bet, I’d take my winnings immediately. There wouldn’t be any waiting. I’d be licking away between Alexis’s thighs before she knew what was happening, filling her pussy with my fingers until she couldn’t take it anymore.

  And after that? Alexis wouldn’t be going out with anyone else. I would finally claim her and it would be just the two of us.

  “Woodward,” I said as I approached Shane. “Why don’t you let me get you something to eat?”

  “You’re going to bring me hors d’oeuvres? That’s gallant of you.” The expression on her face contradicted her words, the spark in her eye telling me she thought I wasn’t worth her time.

  “Cut the shit. You know you want them.” I turned away from her and went to the table to see what the caterer had laid out. The spread was not impressive to me, but I was a steak girl, not much for eating finger sandwiches and canapés. Still, I put one of everything on a small, round plate, picked up a cocktail napkin, and brought my offering back to Shane. If she was going to give me shit, then the least she could do is acknowledge my hunter-gatherer attempt to bury the hatchet. Otherwise, that hatchet would end up in her back.

  She accepted the plate and held it in both hands, but didn’t touch the food. “Cahill, what do you want from me?” she finally asked.

  “What I want is for you to stop hating me. I don’t know what I did to piss you off but, for fuck’s sake, Woodward, cut the crap.” So much for charming the woman.

  She let a breath out through her nose, rather like a horse, and then said, “I don’t hate you. I don’t like you, but I don’t hate you.”

  “Then what’s the deal? Is it the magazine thing? All’s fair in media competition, you know.”

  “No.” Shane shook her head, her wispy platinum bun and glasses still perfectly in place. “That’s a very, very small part of it. It’s you as a person, Riley.”

  “Me?” I pressed my hands to my chest and tried to look innocent, then realized I probably just looked ridiculous. “Okay,” I said, dropping both my hands and the act. “Regale me with the truth, Woodward.”

  “It’s a very simple truth and that’s that you’re a cock pain in the ass. Who would want your attention, besides those airheads we dress up in designer cloth and then enshrine in the pages of our magazines?”

  My heart stuttered before resuming a normal beat. Did… did Alexis think of me the same way? Before I could process that question, Shane went on with her accusations.

  “You always manage to schmooze your way into anything you want by playing the charming card. You consider most women beneath you, especially when you can’t get them beneath you in bed. You’re known as a confirmed bachelorette who serially beds whatever models, socialites, and other hot women she can. You never sleep with the same woman twice. You think we’re incapable of doing anything other than matching colors, clothing, and accessories, and then being an instrument of your pleasure. Shall I continue?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I mean, I know all of those things about myself. Trust me, I know them. I… I cultivated them and the person I am.”

  “And you’re proud of that?” Those hazel eyes narrowed and I watched her estimation of me drop even lower.

  “Kind of. I mean, it’s what I set out to do and I’ve achieved it, so I guess I should be a little proud of meeting that goal.”

  Her lips finally quirked just a bit, but the smile didn’t quite come. Instead, she said, “Look, Riley, let me be honest and tell you that I’m not flattered by your attention. I wish you would leave me alone and find some bimbo to spread her legs for you, because I won’t be doing it.”

  “That’s fine. I don’t want you to.”

  “You… don’t?” Now her brow furrowed and I couldn’t contain the thrill that ran through me. In all my years of flirting and flattering women, I had never thought to play the honesty card. Did she think I was more attractive or somehow cute for telling her the truth? Maybe vulnerable? This could work to my advantage.

  “No, Woodward,” I said with a shake of my head. “I respect you too much for that. It’s why I wanted to talk to you. I thought if anyone would tell me the truth, it would be you. My life is one big party, I know, and it’s also bullshit. Everything you think you know about me is… Well, I’m not sure what it is or why I do it. Maybe you can help me figure that out.”

  Those lips of hers twitched again, this time into a semblance of a smile. “I can refer you to a good shrink,” she said. “That’s their job, you know, not mine.”

  “I know, but I don’t want to talk to some balding man in a tweed suit in some office, while I lie on his couch and babble about daddy issues. I want to talk to you.” I reached out to take a canapé from the plate and used my other hand to cup her hands, to hold the plate steady as I stepped closer and put the small piece of food in my mouth.

  Her eyes widened and I wasn’t sure if she was annoyed or intrigued, but then a long breath shuddered through her and she nodded. “Here are the rules, Cahill. We don’t talk business ever. No popular clubs, restaurants, or bars, but nothing hidden and romantic, either. I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea about us.”

  “Of course,” I agreed, sliding my hand from beneath the plate and letting my fingers linger for a moment on hers. “When?”

  “Well, tomorrow is Saturday and I have tickets to the Met. My friend cancelled, so you’re welcome to come.”

  “Isn’t that a little too date-like for your tastes?” I asked.

  “Maybe, but I don’t think it will be misconstrued if we’re there together. Meet me in the lobby at eight.”

  I nodded and smiled. Victory was back within my grasp.

  Chapter 9

  She was smiling. Shane Woodward was actually smiling. Grumbling, I turned back to Krista and said, “How about a drink?”

  “Of course.” She went to the canapé table and returned with two glasses of wine. I drank mine down without stopping and could have easily had another, but then I would be drunk.

  But watching Riley charm Shane into smiling, I decided I would like to be drunk. Very drunk. So I asked Krista to bring me another. This time, I drank only half before I stopped for breath.

  “Hey, are you going to be alright?” she asked.

  “Of course I am. I drink wine all the time.” That was a partial lie. Sure, I drank wine every night, but I didn’t usually chug it on an empty stomach. Like a lady ought, I normally sipped it throughout an hour of conversation. I supposed I could have a canapé, but that wouldn’t be fun. I didn’t want anything to dull the lovely, buzzing sensation that kept me from focusing on Riley making Shane smile.

  It was a stupid decision, though, because I stumbled into Krista. Her strong arms closed around me, but they weren’t the arm
s I wanted. They weren’t Riley’s arms.

  “I think we’d better go,” she said.

  “No, I want to stay. I want to talk to the author. The book is supposed to be wonderful.” I had no idea how the book was supposed to be, nor did I actually care. Reading was a waste of my time when it didn’t involve stuff I cared about.

  What did I care about? Oh… I had no idea at the moment. A giggle bubbled to my lips and then another set of warm, strong arms swept me out of the room, away from everything. “I’ll get her home,” a low voice said.

  Riley.

  My heart fluttered and I leaned into her warmth. “I knew you’d come,” I told her and watched as she plucked the wine glass from my loose fingers.

  “Uh huh, sure you did. What’s wrong with that lady, letting you drink like that?”

  “You made her smile,” I muttered.

  Riley practically carried me down the hall and into the hostess’s bedroom with her. All the coats were lined up on her bed and I fell down onto mine, gathering it in my arms.

  “Ah, soft,” I said with a sigh.

  “Holy shit, Alexis, really?” She thrust her arms into her trench coat and pulled me up off the bed, then wrapped my coat around me. The ride home was a blur, but it wasn’t long before Riley had me standing in my own living room, her arms around me as she pushed the coat off my shoulders.

  It had been cold outside, but her warmth made me feel immune to the late winter chill. I burrowed against her. This was the woman I wanted. Not some country bumpkin who made furniture and did whatever her mommy told her to. I looked up into Riley’s eyes, aware our bodies were pressed together, breasts to breasts, heartbeat to heartbeat.

  “Hey Riley,” I said breathily. “Remember when I was seventeen and I got stupid-drunk, and you brought me home?”

  “Just like this,” she answered. Her hands cupped my shoulders as if she wasn’t sure whether to keep me close or push me away.