Mister Moneybags

by Vi Keeland

  “Okay…what was it, then?”

  “Your father was the reason.”

  “My father…”

  “Yes.”

  “What about my father?”

  “My mother used to work for him.”

  “Your mother…worked for my father? What did she do at Montague?”

  “She was his secretary for a time.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No.”

  “God, he went through so many secretaries. How long did she work for him?”

  “I’m not sure. Several years.”

  “Well, that’s certainly longer than most.”

  “I know. Your dad fired her, though, and that led to some serious money problems for my family because we were dependent on that paycheck. Dexter Sr. apparently paid very well. We’d become accustomed to having that security.”

  “What happened after that?”

  “Well, I was too young to remember but from what my mother told me, my dad’s company downsized around the same time, and he lost a good portion of his income. That was sort of the point where my parents’ marital problems really started. My father had an affair around that time. So my mother losing her job was really the beginning of the end.”

  “And you associate all of this bad stuff happening with what my father did. That was sort of the catalyst.”

  “Yes. I realize it wasn’t directly his fault, but it made me want to somehow get back at him by conducting the interview with you. I had originally planned to make it difficult for you. But that never happened, of course, because I soon realized that you were nothing like your father.”

  “I can’t believe you kept this from me.”

  “Well, I think you can understand the need to hide an uncomfortable truth.”

  He nodded. “I certainly can, and I don’t blame you for not wanting to admit your original intentions. I just wish you had opened up to me about it sooner. I wouldn’t have held it against you. You didn’t know me then, and honestly, my father was a shitty human being, so you had every reason to want retribution.”

  “I would never want to do anything to hurt you now, Dex. Please believe that. I feel so foolish thinking back to that time.”

  “You know what I think?”

  “What?”

  “We’ve both made mistakes—especially me. I think we’ve done enough lying to each other and enough apologizing. Why don’t we stop dwelling on the past. Let’s stop letting other people get in the way of our happiness, too, whether that’s fictional Jay, Caroline, or my father. Let’s just move on.” He kissed my forehead. “Unless you have anything else to confess?”

  “I don’t.” I smiled. “Thank you for understanding. And you’re right. No more focusing on the past.”

  “You could’ve told me something far worse, and, honestly, at this point, Bianca, I’d have let it slide because I want you too damn much. I can’t go back. You could’ve told me you murdered someone, and the next thing I’d know, I’d be harboring a fugitive.”

  “You’re crazy, Dex.”

  “I know you have trust issues, and I know I’ve contributed to them. But I really do want to help undo some of the damage.”

  “It goes far beyond what happened with us. My father’s affair, his leaving us when I was so very young, really made me an untrustworthy person, in general. There’s no man a girl is supposed to trust more than her father. His betraying my mother when times got rough conditioned me to always wait for the other shoe to drop. I won’t let you take all the blame for my hesitation with you. It goes far beyond you or…Jay.”

  “Okay, then we’ve established that we both have the same fear.”

  “The same?”

  “Yes. You fear that I’ll turn out like our fathers, and that’s exactly my own fear. I worry that even though I know right from wrong, that I’m somehow genetically predisposed to being a bad person. Honestly, the Jay facade made me wonder more than ever. The fact that I was capable of pulling that off—of deceiving you—served as evidence in my own mind that my fear is warranted. How much control do I really have over my actions if I was able to make a split-second decision like that? So, I worry, too. But at some point we just have to let go and see what happens.”

  He was right.

  I happened to look down at that moment and noticed that he looked like he was packing a snake in his trousers. “Oh, my God. Are you hard?”

  “Yes.”

  “How can you have gotten an erection when we were in the middle of a serious conversation?”

  “Do you really have to ask that? When am I not hard around you?” He pointed to his skull. “I’ve been talking to you with this head. My other one downstairs has a mind of its own.”

  “Too bad you’re not really Jay,” I joked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, if that relationship were real, we would’ve been dating for a while by now. We’d probably be home participating in all the things you are imagining at the moment,” I teased.

  “That’s just cruel. I already hate that guy enough as it is.” He placed his hand around the back of my head and brought my face into his, speaking over my mouth. “Let me ask you this. What can I get away with tonight?”

  “Well, I don’t trust myself to be alone with your ‘beautiful cock,’ so we’re not going back to your place or mine.”

  “Okay…so then where can I have my limited way with you?”

  “Honestly, the only place I’d probably trust myself to let you touch me is a crowded theater. At least there, I would know it could only go so far with other people around.”

  Without hesitation, he called the driver. “Sam, head to the Lincoln Square Loews Cinema.”

  Perfect. The entire back row was empty. We’d gotten here so late that all of the good movies were sold out, but it didn’t matter. I wasn’t here for the show.

  When the lights dimmed, I placed my hand on Bianca’s knee. We at least attempted to watch the very beginning of the movie—some bank heist comedy.

  A few minutes into it, she turned her head toward me. Bianca was looking at me when she should have been watching the movie, and I knew that was my signal; she was giving me silent permission to start what she knew I’d come here for.

  I felt like a teenager, so excited about the prospect of feeling her up for the first time. Turning my body toward her in my seat, I held the back of her head as I brought her lips to mine and growled into her mouth as I began to kiss her hungrily. There was something wildly erotic about testing the limits in a crowded theater. Having the back row to ourselves was the best of both worlds; no one was looking, but you still got the thrill of doing something naughty in a public place.

  With each lick of my tongue against hers, I wanted more. My hand slid up her thigh and under her dress until it landed on the elastic of her underwear. Her hips wriggled beneath my hand as I slipped my finger underneath. Her panties were drenched; she was so aroused, and it made me wonder if she’d been like that all night.

  I closed my eyes in euphoria as I pushed my index and middle fingers in and out of her wet pussy. It was all too easy to imagine what it would feel like wrapped around my painfully hard cock. I knew without a doubt I couldn’t go much longer without knowing what that felt like.

  I yearned to suck on her breasts but her dress wouldn’t allow me access without unzipping it from the back. Instead, I lowered my mouth to devour them through the fabric before kissing my way back to her mouth again.

  I whispered in her ear, “I can’t wait to fuck you.”

  “I’d let you if we weren’t here. That’s why we are here.”

  “I know.”

  She ran her fingers through my hair as she kissed me harder. I continued to finger fuck her while massaging her clit with my thumb. When she tightened repeatedly against my hand, I knew she was coming. It hadn’t taken much.

  There was nothing sexier than watching her scream out in silence as she climaxed. I couldn’t wait to hear what she sou
nded like when she came with me inside her in the privacy of my bedroom.

  When she stopped moving, I slipped my finger out and took it into my mouth, savoring every bit of her taste.

  She placed her hand on my erection and whispered in my ear, “If we had something to cover us, I’d return the favor.”

  That was the moment I knew a garment of clothing was about to be sacrificed.

  I took off my jacket and covered myself. Her hand slipped underneath and worked to unzip my pants. My engorged cock sprung free and Bianca began to jerk it slowly. Relaxing my head back, I wondered how the hell I was going to manage this quietly when it felt better than anything I could remember aside from what I’d just done to her moments ago.

  I just about lost it when she licked her palm before repositioning it around my dick. She pumped harder and within seconds, I came in her hand until my limp body collapsed back into the seat. Her wet hand totally undid me.

  Bianca smiled impishly as I used my designer jacket to discreetly clean up my load. I hadn’t pulled this shit since the early years of high school.

  “I won’t be taking this to the cleaners.”

  “I hope that wasn’t your favorite suit jacket.”

  “It only cost two thousand dollars. But that hand job was worth more.”

  “I didn’t realize it was that expensive. I should have just used my mouth.”

  “You are evil, Georgy Girl,” I said before smashing my lips against hers.

  “When will I see you again?” We were in the back of my Town Car and almost to her building. I didn’t care that I sounded desperate, and I’d asked her the same exact question just the other day. The ball was in her court—why pretend it wasn’t?

  “Well, tomorrow night I have a work thing. I won’t be home until pretty late.”

  “That work thing isn’t Eamon, is it?”

  She smiled. “No. But if it was, it would be work, not a date. I wouldn’t disguise a date as a work thing.”

  Our fingers were entwined as we sat side by side. “I hope you mean that you wouldn’t disguise a date because you aren’t planning on having any. Outside of me, that is.”

  She bumped her shoulder to mine. “Is that your way of asking me to be exclusive with you?”

  “I expect if I’m not fucking you, no one else will be inside you either.”

  “You’re so crass.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe. But can you really tell me the thought of my cock in another woman sits right with you?”

  “No. It definitely doesn’t.”

  “Then it’s settled. My cock will continue his relationship with only my hand until such time as your pussy decides to put it out of its misery.”

  She laughed. “You’re so romantic.”

  We pulled up at the curb outside of her building, and I made no attempt to open the door. “I’m not letting you out of this car until you tell me when I’ll see you again.”

  “How about the day after tomorrow? Thursday.”

  “I have a dinner meeting up in Boston.”

  “Well, Friday I have dinner plans with my mom at her house. She’s watching my two nieces overnight so my sister and her husband can have a date night out and the house to themselves after. But you’re more than welcome to come, if you want.”

  “It’s a date,” I said immediately.

  She chuckled at my eagerness. “Perhaps before you agree to come with me, I should warn you that my sister’s kids are little holy terrors.”

  It didn’t escape me that Caroline had once asked me to go to a family function. An excuse rolled from my tongue before the invitation was even fully out of her mouth. Yet with Bianca, I had no hesitation at all. Even more fucked up was that, as she painted a picture of something I’d normally run the other way from, I found myself thinking that perhaps seeing her with her sister’s kids in action might be a glimpse into my own future.

  I brought our entwined hands to my mouth and kissed the top of hers. “I don’t scare that easily.”

  “Say that after you meet the twins from hell and sit in rush hour traffic to Staten Island.”

  Turning to face her, I cupped her cheeks in my hands. “Did you say rush hour traffic? I can think of a few ways we can pass the time back here on the way to Staten Island Friday night. I’ll bring a cheap jacket this time.”

  We’d had a change of plans for Friday night. My afternoon interview wound up being in New Jersey, so I’d told Dex to meet me at my mom’s house, rather than my going back through Staten Island to Manhattan at rush hour only to turn around and come back. Plus, after I thought about the prospect of Mom meeting Dexter Truitt, I decided it might be best to tell her alone who Dex’s father was. It had been so many years since Mom lost her job and my parents divorced, but if I was initially harboring a grudge against Dex for his father’s actions, there was a possibility Mom could feel the same. Or worse.

  “Hey, Thing One.” I let myself into my mother’s house and one of my sister’s daughters, Faith, ran up to greet me at the door. She barreled into my legs and I lifted the featherlight four-year-old into the air. Her face was covered in chocolate and she had on a headband with tiny red horns, the kind that came with a devil costume. “The horns finally came out, huh? I knew they were in there somewhere, and it was only a matter of time.” I shifted her to my hip and went to find the other little monster. It was quiet; I hoped they didn’t have my mother tied up somewhere already.

  “Mom?”

  “In here, sweetheart!” Mom’s voice yelled from the kitchen.

  I walked in to find Hope, Faith’s twin, standing on a chair stirring something at the table while wearing white angel wings. Mom was taking the large, silver mixing bowl from the nearby KitchenAid Mixer. She smiled warmly. “I have two assistants today.”

  Kissing Faith on the forehead, I said, “I see that. And one of them is in costume.”

  “I’m an angel, Aunt Bee!”

  “Far from it. But your wings are pretty. Did Grandma take you shopping in the costume store today?”

  Faith nodded her head rapidly. “She said you’d do our makeup later, too.”

  “Oh she did, did she?”

  My mother kissed my cheek. “I actually didn’t tell them that. We never even discussed makeup today.” She turned to my niece. “Faith, what did Mommy tell you about lying?”

  Faith covered her nose with both hands. “I’m not lying.”

  Mom and I chuckled. Then Faith spilled whatever it was that she was stirring all over the table and floor, followed by Hope getting half a head of her hair stuck in the mixing spoon Mom had given her to occupy her mouth while we mopped up the mess her sister had made. After we finally finished cleaning up the kitchen and the two terrors, I popped in a Full House DVD and poured Mom and I a glass of wine.

  We sat at the kitchen island where we could still keep our eye on the girls watching TV in the living room. “So. Tell me about this man you’re seeing who is coming over.”

  I took a healthy gulp from my glass before answering. “Well…he’s handsome, smart, and successful.”

  “Sounds perfect so far.”

  “He’s definitely not perfect. We actually got off to a pretty rocky start, but we managed to weather it through. I think that’s what I like the best about him. He doesn’t pretend to be perfect. When he made a mistake, he didn’t try to make any excuses. He owned up to it.”

  Mom’s smile was sad as she looked down. “Owning up to your mistakes is important in a relationship.”

  I knew she was talking about Dad. Even after all these years, what he’d done still saddened her. I covered her hand with mine. “Can I ask you something, Mom?”

  “Of course.”

  “If Dad had come clean about what he’d done, had owned up to it, do you think you could’ve stayed together? Could you have truly trusted him again once he’d broken your trust?”

  “Sweetheart, it wasn’t Dad’s fault we didn’t stay together.”

  Never once in the fifteen
years since the split did my mom come clean over what Dad had done to her. She was the type of mom who wanted to protect us at all costs. But my sister and I had overheard enough fighting about his affair to know the truth.

  The doorbell rang, and I looked at the clock on the microwave. I must’ve lost track of the time. “I guess that’s Dex. I didn’t realize it was so late.”

  “Dex?”

  “Yes. His name is Dexter, but he goes by Dex.” I’d have to fill her in on his last name another time. Maybe it was better that way. She would get to know him independent of any negative feelings that she might still harbor toward his father. “I’ll get the door.”

  “I’ll get the brownies out of the oven.”

  I took a deep breath before opening the front door. It had only been a few days since I’d seen Dex, but I’d thought about him non-stop since our night in the back of the theatre. In fact, I was finding it difficult to focus on anything but Dexter Truitt the last few days. My heart rate was out of control when I opened the door and took in his handsome face.

  Dex smiled, and I swear my knees got weak like a teenage girl. He held a big bouquet of colorful flowers in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. Leaning in, he kissed me gently on the lips then looked over my shoulder inside the house. The twins were glued to the television. “They good for a minute there?” he whispered.

  “Full House is better than duct tape and rope.”

  Dex abruptly hooked an arm around my waist and pulled me outside onto the front stoop, shutting the door behind me. Before I could even realize what was going on, my back was pressed up against it. He took my mouth in a serious kiss. “I missed you,” he groaned when it broke.

  “I missed you, too.”

  He leaned his forehead against mine and then his eyes trailed down to my cleavage. I’d picked out a dress with a lower neckline than I’d normally wear. “My mouth needs to taste those so fucking badly. We skipped second base and went to third.”

  “Not here.”

  “No. Not here. But tonight.”

  I cleared my throat. “Okay.”