by Brea Viragh
Conversation flowed as smooth as the wine August poured, making sure my glass remained full. I didn’t consider myself a drinker in any respects, especially not red wine, especially when I had an audience. However, considering the week I’d had, tonight saw the garnet-colored liquid slipping down my throat.
With only bread to soak it up, my head soon spun and I found Leda’s company close to tolerable. Her animated conversation with Duncan bothered me less and less.
My entree soon fell before my wrath as my fork scratched the bottom of the plate.
“I’m happy to see you eating,” August said, catching me off-guard. “The last time we had dinner, you picked at your food and I didn’t think you enjoyed it.”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about. I finished everything and then some.” I pointed my fork toward him in a threat. “I had dessert.” And I wasn’t referring to Jennifer’s chocolate mousse. It was petty to bait him, I realized, but with liquid courage egging me on, my mouth lost its censor button.
To his credit, August didn’t let my zinger faze him. His smile widened and his brows curved up as he continued to sip his wine. “Of course, how could I forget dessert,” he murmured. “My mistake.”
I picked up my goblet and gestured. “Guess you’ve been indulging in too many sweets to remember one night.” Wine sloshed on the table and I used my dress sleeve to sop it up.
August grabbed my glass. “Maybe I should take this away.”
I retrieved it, resulting in a small tug of war before he conceded. “I am fine, thank you. Don’t worry about me. I also plan on having some dessert later.” I took the moment to execute what I considered a sly squeeze of Duncan’s crotch under the table.
He jumped a mile and knocked his plate to the floor. Chicken splattered across the concrete before sliding to a halt against an elderly gentleman’s ankle.
“What the hell are you doing?” Duncan hissed.
The chicken captured my gaze along with the trail of sauce staining the floor. “I’m so sorry!”
“You’re going to give me a heart attack with stunts like that. Of all the shit—” Duncan slapped his hand down on the table and moved to retrieve the wayward poultry and apologize for the mishap.
I spared a glance at August, embarrassed to see amusement coloring his gaze.
Leda raised a single brow in my direction. “Nice move. Perfect dinner table behavior.”
The night ended on a sour note as things went downhill from there. The crescent moon rode crisp and white in the sky as servers and managers alike rushed to the rescue. Mortified beyond belief, something even the fog of wine could not erase, I was waved back to my seat to watch everyone else clean up my mess. Public opinion of me plummeted, especially from the other female at our table.
I hadn’t meant to drink so much, I assured everyone. I rarely did so and I apologized profusely for the trouble. Still, Duncan took ample opportunity to chastise me until the separate checks arrived at the table.
Gathering our leftovers, the four of us headed out through the parking lot, weaving our way through the lines of parked cars.
“It was lovely to meet you, Duncan. You have a knack for conversation.” Leda let her hand linger on his shoulder.
I pulled him away and almost fell. “Sure. Real nice.”
“And…you too, Isabel,” she said at last.
“I’m glad we could have a nice meal. You two get along well.” August swiveled his attention between Leda and Duncan. “Who would have guessed.”
“Certainly not me,” I slurred.
“We’ll have to do this again. Without the alcohol. Isabel, you’ve never had this sort of issue with wine before,” Duncan lectured me as we walked toward the car. He kept a hand on my arm to steady me when I lost my balance.
“I know!” I retorted. “I had three glasses instead of two and it put me over the edge.”
“I take full responsibility for it.” August kept hold of my other elbow. “I’ve forgotten what a lightweight you are. The last time I saw you this drunk, we broke into my father’s liquor cabinet and finished off a bottle of Jack.”
“No, no excuses. She’s a grown woman who knows her limitations. Don’t you, Iz?” Duncan shook me in the way of a reprimand. Something fit for a child.
Leda piped in from the peanut gallery. “Some folks can’t handle their alcohol. I don’t blame her for it. A good strong wine can do things to a person. Maybe next time she should pay more attention to the people around the table instead of what’s in her glass. Nothing good comes from staring at the bottom of a bottle.”
I growled at her, the sound cut off as Duncan whisked me into the passenger seat of the car. The moment my rear hit the leather and my feet were tucked safely inside, he slammed the door. My gorge rose.
He pressed a finger against the glass. “Not a word out of you.”
Acid reflux rose in my throat, burning and sour. I nodded to hold it back.
Duncan turned to the others and sighed, the return of the pleasant man able to handle any situation without trouble.
“We had a lovely time,” he said, smoothing everything over. “I’m not sure if my future missus can behave herself, but if you can forgive her, I’d like to try dinner again.”
I tapped on the window to protest but he ignored me.
“Aw, sweetie, don’t you worry. It was wonderful and we will for sure do it again. You are too nice for your own good.” Leda grinned, cocking her hip to the side to show off her curves. “I know a few decent restaurants in the area to give this one a run for its money. Although none with a plate of flying chicken.” She waved her hand in the air and the two of them shared a laugh. “We’ll have fun.”
Even my alcohol-addled brain realized what she meant by we. The tapping became more insistent until August sidled over. He curved his body until we were eye level. “Isabel.”
Again with the name, the syllables stretched and warmed until they sounded like hot pulled taffy.
“What?” I asked with a defensive bark. Scrambling, I managed to press the button and lower the window, by myself.
“Are you going to be okay? No accidents?” His thumb reached out to smooth an errant strand of hair from my face.
“I’m fine!” I swore again.
“I don’t want to leave you like this. You never had a problem with alcohol before, even for a lightweight.” August chuckled. “Remember the time we got that bottle of Fireball and snuck into the woods? I carried you home singing show tunes the whole way.”
“We were terribly sick afterwards.” My words slurred, like my tongue had swelled during the evening.
“Yes, we were. And afterwards you vowed to never touch the stuff again. But between you and me…” he leaned closer, “…I know you finished off a few drinks after school.”
My face puckered. “You spied on me?”
“Maybe.” He rose with a shrug.
“You’re full of maybes nowadays.”
“What’s life without a few maybes? Now go home and get some sleep. No dessert for you tonight.”
I wrapped my fingers around his to halt his movement. “That’s a hell of a thing for you to say to me.”
August permitted the contact for a moment before pulling away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
To the untrained ear he sounded sincere. I knew better.
Duncan finished his goodbyes, drawing Leda into his arms for an impromptu farewell hug. She peered around the curve of his shoulder, caught my gaze. And winked.
My mouth dropped open and I sputtered in outrage, Duncan breaking the embrace and walking around to sag behind the wheel. The engine roared as he backed out of the tight space, my lips still flapping.
Confused, I sat and watched him navigate the road until we reached the single stoplight. I needed a prompt for my life, I decided, someone to hand me a script and tell me what to do. There was no sense in feeling peevish because Leda was paying attention to Duncan, and worse, being jealous
that Leda came with August.
What did I want?
“Well, tonight was a disaster. What am I going to do with you?” Duncan asked before speeding from the lot.
I let my head sag against the seat. “I don’t know. Love me?”
**
I struggled to make it up the hotel stairs, but Duncan swept me into those ham hock arms and carried me the rest of the way.
I snuggled against him, focusing on the scent of his cologne rather than the world spinning out of control around me.
“I’m sorry,” I groaned for the thousandth time. “I don’t know what came over me.”
He took each step slow and careful. “I couldn’t say either, but I’m a little disappointed I didn’t get to finish my dinner.”
“The manager offered to make you a new one. You wanted the rest of August’s pizza instead.”
Duncan juggled me as he fumbled for the key in his pocket. “It was a damn good pizza. I’m surprised he let me have a few slices.”
My stomach flipped, the mention of pizza almost too much to handle. The involuntary garble I made spurred Duncan into action and he got me inside without hesitation.
He dumped me unceremoniously on the bed. “Woman, I swear, you better learn to control yourself more.”
I shook my head, trying for the picture of innocence. “I only had a little bit.”
“If you call finishing half the bottle a bit.”
It was nerves, I decided, and my need to calm them. “I got carried away! You do the same thing.”
Duncan shrugged out of his shirt, and the tilted light of the floor lamp played along the lines of muscle. “Yes, but I never tried to grab your vagina under the table while people are eating. You should know better.”
I leaned back against the pillows and opened my legs. “How about doing it now?” I asked, eyes half-closed in what I hoped was a lewd look.
Duncan made a point of staring at me from across the room. “You’re drunk. I don’t take advantage of women who can’t make decisions with a clear head.”
“I may be drunk but I’m still in the mood for a little fun. I haven’t gotten to taste you at all this week.” I licked my lips. I focused on the need, the desire to fill myself with something other than food. The thought of Duncan had heat bubbling in my core and wetness pooling.
“For good reason. I had the flu, remember? You would have gotten sick and I’d never hear the end of it.” Duncan peered at me before focusing on the parts I uncovered for his pleasure. “Come on, now.”
“I want to touch you.”
“I don’t want you to puke on me if something happens,” he warned.
“I’m not going to puke on you,” I assured him. “I can control myself. Right now I have other ideas of where to put my mouth to good use.”
Duncan let his shirt drop. “If I’d realized wine made you horny then I’d have bought a bottle last week. You never go past tipsy. I’ve missed you,” he admitted.
I focused on intimacy with the zeal of a starving woman. Or maybe, a lone survivor in a life raft in the middle of a vast ocean. “I’ve missed you too.” I trailed fingers down my inner thigh in a way designed to get his attention.
“Would you like me to bend you over the bed and pound you into shape?”
“I wouldn’t say no.”
I got up shakily from the bed, fumbled with my underwear and fell to the floor. Duncan hurried to my side and steadied me.
“Easy now. I can’t take advantage of you in your current condition. It wouldn’t be right,” he remarked, eyeing me up and down.
I recognized the heat there, the passion and longing.
“Yes, it’s right.” I grabbed his neck and latched on. Duncan obliged me by moving his lips along mine.
“You taste like wine.” The sentiment murmured along my skin, driving a response before I realized.
Mmm.
Duncan glanced at the bed and then at me. As if I weighed nothing at all, he picked me up and placed me atop the covers. He was on top of me before I had the chance to respond, pushing both of us back against the pillow top mattress. The strength of him pressed down and thrust the air from my lungs in the best possible way.
His lips landed home as he spoke. “You were a naughty girl at dinner, behaving like an animal. You deserve to be punished.”
My thighs clenched. “What will you do to me?”
Duncan rose only long enough to slip the belt from his trousers. They fell to the floor, kicked away in an instant.
“Bad girls don’t deserve to know.”
I wiggled my hips in anticipation, feeling much sexier than I probably looked. A good buzz did strange things to a person.
He started toward me, his gaze going dark.
My stomach twisted and I stared up at him through the haze, another face plastering itself on top of his before I shoved the image away. It was horrible of me to think about August while Duncan stood there. Horrible and disgusting.
“Come here,” I managed to get out, nearly pleading.
Duncan started at my feet and slowly crawled up my legs and stopped. “Bad girls don’t get a say in what happens to them. Close your eyes.”
I did as he instructed, giving myself up to his ministrations. Duncan sat back on his heels to undo the buttons on my dress, tossing the material aside like unwanted garbage. My panties surrendered to him, and despite my obvious inebriation, I enjoyed the anticipation.
I wanted to feel him slide slowly into me and recapture the high, the interminable attraction of two people joining. I didn’t want to think about August, or Leda, or dinner.
However, my mind took a detour somewhere and kept circling around to someone else. As Duncan punished me, pushing my legs apart and lowering his torturous mouth to my core with little nips, my thoughts betrayed me.
Stupid August. In the midst of this hot-blooded moment, I hated him, hated him for representing everything I’d tried to leave behind and was not able to, hated him for taking advantage of my weakness. As my body responded to Duncan’s rough ministrations, the rest of me considered everything I wanted to hide.
I gasped at the rasping tongue plunging along the planes of my womanhood. Heat coiled in my stomach before shooting along every nerve ending and bringing them to standing attention.
Gurgling, my fingers fisted in Duncan’s hair until he pushed me back.
“Oh no. You don’t touch me while I’m tongue-fucking you.”
I had no choice but to obey. Let myself be loved in his own wild, uncontrollable way. Duncan settled between my legs. I bit my lip to wash away the thoughts of another. And let myself bleed where no one saw.
Duncan twisted his fingers inside me.
My eyes crossed as I quivered beneath him, and of their own accord my hands slipped lower to cup him while pushing my breasts into his chest. The feel of him was enough to drive any woman mad.
“Sweet Jesus!” I called out when he coaxed an orgasm forward. I teetered on the precipice for only a second before falling into oblivion. Each muscle tightened gloriously before the release.
“Come for me, my girl,” Duncan murmured. His teeth grazed along the line of my ribs before landing on the skin above the nipples. I ran a hand over his chest, tangling in chest hair as I opened myself to him, ready to find a rhythm for both of us. He became my anchor in the chaos and I clung for dear life.
Leaving my bra, Duncan moved his body on top of mine to take advantage of the delicious friction. He withdrew his cock from the confines of the boxer shorts, rubbing it along my inner thigh.
“Is this what you want?” he asked as he stroked up and down.
Trying not to lick my lips, I followed the movement and nodded. “Yes. Yes, please.” A desirous haze replaced the fog of alcohol from before in a much sweeter sensation.
Duncan plunged deep without further ado. I fought to calm myself, my muscles shaking from the intrusion.
“A little warning next time!” I managed to grind out as he pumped back a
nd forth. My hips widened and the rest of me struggled to accommodate him.
“Oh no.” Duncan’s breath came in heaving gasps. “You’re being punished. Remember?”
His sheer size held me in place as we moved together in a frenzied, harried coupling, the balance of power skewed in his favor. My teeth ground together as he bore down and I rose to meet him.
The heat of him burned away the last dregs of alcohol induced stupor. It took a long time for me to wind down, only to find myself slumped in the bed with his dick slamming into me. He caught my waist and refused to release as he reared up to his knees and continued. Those strokes came fast and furious to block out awareness of the room around us.
He stared into my eyes, his own glazed over as sweat began to bead on his brow. “Is this what you want? Tell me you want me.”
My back arched as Duncan pushed deep. “Yes. I want you.”
At least, I thought so.
But was I only fooling myself?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
With the smell of sex lingering in the air and both of us enjoying the afterglow, I broached a subject niggling at my mind: the wedding music. I mentally circled around to it again and again, wondering when would be the right time to speak.
“So,” I began from the bathroom vanity, “I know I said we should forget about the wedding for tonight, but I have a question for you.”
My mind had cleared enough for my aches to register. The area between my legs throbbed in tandem with my head and I found myself searching for aspirin as I brushed my hair.
“Oh yeah? What?” Duncan lounged on the bed with his arms behind his head.
“August came to me with a proposition.”
That captured his interest and had him shifting to look at me. “Don’t keep me in suspense. What did he say? Nothing lewd, I hope.”
The results were in and Duncan had seemed to make up his mind about August. They tolerated each other. I knew it was silly to hope for a burgeoning bromance but at least they didn’t want to engage in another fight.
Duncan had no other male friends outside of his acquaintances at work. August represented nothing more than a port in a storm.