Convincing Bet

by K. S. Adkins

Not-fucking-likely.

  Looking over at Rio sleeping, I see a man who’s known struggle. Who’s brought himself back from dark places. The thing about existing in darkness is that it never cedes fully. Sure, the sun can shine through on occasion but it’s the darkness that’s there protecting you, hiding you, keeping your secrets. For people like us, darkness means safety. Rio, like me, has secrets.

  Although, he was lucky. For many years he had Rion, who from the sounds of it, shared her light with him. But guess what happens when you step away from it? The darkness returns with a vengeance, sucking you back in. Losing my light gained me a permanent spot in the shadows. I knew how to navigate the shadows better than most and Adrian fucking knew it. Regardless of how this played out with him, I knew one thing. I knew I would win. Smiling at the morbid thought, I snuggle in deeper into his side and promptly start to doze.

  A phone ringing brings me back to consciousness. Dammit, I had just fallen to sleep. Reaching over to throw it across the room, I chose to answer it because if the staff is calling there may be news on this storm. It wasn’t news on the storm though, it was an invite to the main hall for karaoke.

  I happen to love karaoke.

  Since the smart people left the island there were few of us left. Tonight the manager was opening the hall for food and fun for the remaining guests and employees.

  “Who the fuck called?” he mumbles reaching between my legs.

  “Front desk,” I tell him spreading them wider. “We are cordially invited to karaoke tonight.”

  “We going?”

  “I’d like to,” I admit. “Does it interest you?”

  “Watching you do anything interests me,” he says rubbing my clit. “If I get to watch you come now and sing later, I ain’t gonna bitch about it.”

  Laughing turns to moaning when his large fingers slide inside of me. “Tell me when I find the spot, little Bet,” he urges. Until Rio, no man has ever found the spot. Not only did he find that spot, he found another in my heart. When my back arches he continues his rhythm, which I appreciate. In the past, the moment I said whoop there it is! The guy would stop or change course and I wanted to scream because I lost the buildup.

  “Lookie, what I found,” he purrs in my ear. “Ride it out on my fingers,” he orders.

  As it builds, I do as he says and begin my own rhythm. With his mouth on my neck, his hand between my legs, I close my eyes and enjoy the fact that I’m about to finally have a big O without a vibrator. Fisting the sheets and tightening my legs, I arch up and moan out the most beautiful, “Fuck yes,” in history.

  While my hips continue to swerve, he applies a small amount of pressure that hits something, I wasn’t sure what, but it had my eyes rolling back. Limp, loose, and happy, I open my eyes to see his shimmering with pride. “Now that’s how it’s done,” I say leaning up to kiss him.

  “My turn!” he announces flipping me to the straddle position. Laughing hard, I reach between my legs to use my release as lubrication. “Jacking me off with your come? That’s hot, little Bet.” He says grabbing my hips. “And creative.”

  “Just call me the queen of improvisation,” I say while speeding up.

  “I’ll call you anything you fucking want as long as you don’t stop,” he moans.

  I didn’t stop. In fact, I sped up and enjoyed every word that came out of his mouth. When he tightened his grip hard enough to bruise me, I knew this was it. He was close. Breaking away and sealing my mouth over the head, I sucked him deep and hard until he yelled, “Harder!” Grabbing his balls, I gave him harder and in return he wrapped his fists in my hair and came down the back of my throat.

  Several minutes later, he finds his voice, smacks my ass and announces, “You just earned breakfast.”

  While I showered and dressed, he went to the café and managed to grab us breakfast sandwiches and coffee. If a blow job got me breakfast in bed, I couldn’t help but wonder what I could do to score lunch.

  Most of the morning and afternoon was spent with Bet working furiously from her phone with me watching her. If I asked her a question about business she answered. If I asked her questions about our future, she went back to talking business. Refusing to let it discourage me, I took my own shower and a quick nap trying to ignore my phone that wouldn’t stop buzzing.

  At six, we both dressed and ran to the main hall. The rain had not let up at all and our clothes were proof of that. It was also so dark outside; you’d think it was midnight not late afternoon. Entering the main hall, we both look around and notice that next to us it was staff only.

  “Twenty bucks we’re the only suckers left on the island,” she says on a laugh.

  “If they feed us we ain’t suckers, we’re well fed,” I tell her leading her to the bar.

  Immediately we’re greeted and told we can sit wherever we like. Bet wanted to sit at the bar to be closest to the alcohol but I call bullshit, she wanted to be close to the karaoke machine. Since we’ve been here I’ve had minimal to drink preferring to keep an eye on my neighbor. But tonight I had a feeling my self-restraint was about to take a huge shit. When Bet ordered each of us a shot of something I’ve never heard of, I clinked her shot glass and threw it back when she did. “The fuck was that?” I cough into my hand.

  “Us pro’s call that a Tijuana hooker,” she says proudly.

  “It tastes like an STD,” I tell her wondering how anyone can swallow that shit with a straight face. Laughing harder than I’ve ever seen her, I throw my fist down on the bar and say, “Give me another one.” Throwing that one back too, I knew I’d sell my fucking soul to see that smile again and if meant sugar shock, I’d do it with an insulin pump. The bartender immediately took a shine to all things Bet, how could he not? The man was only human and she was in rare form tonight.

  Leaning across the bar trying to look intimidating she orders the bartender and staff of which there were five to match us shot for shot, her treat. Looking around for permission he laughs, shrugs then lines the bar up with shots. When the staff figures it out they run over and so it went for the next hour.

  Bet called the shots and we drank them.

  Jumping down off her stool, she throws her hands up and asks “Who’s singing?” to which everyone went nuts with excitement, myself included. The bartender, who was obviously a jack of all trades, hands us a song book and tells us to pick the songs that appeal to us. Scrolling down the list I’ll admit most of this is pop or country, both are shit in my book so I keep going looking for something familiar when Bet yells, “Ha!” then runs over to the guy and points to her song.

  Grabbing the mic and flipping her hair, she clears her throat and adjusts her tits. Oh yeah, little Bet was fucking hammered.

  There ain’t no way to explain what was happening in the main hall without bad shots and video but let me give it a whirl. Bet Lennox went from boardroom bad girl to pop singing slut in under sixty seconds. When the song started she sashayed across the floor and found a place between my legs and went-to-fucking-town.

  The song? I had no damn clue until I asked the bartender. He says it’s London Bridge by Fergie, still no clue. But I got the lyrics just fine. Turning to face away from me, she looks over her shoulder and sings, “How come every time you come around my London London Bridge wanna come down,” while grinding wildly on my dick.

  She was so bad vocally that I almost laughed if it wasn’t for the look of pure fucking joy on her face and the tent in my pants. Hands down, best lap dance in history and my girl did it with a captive audience. Biting her lip and then bouncing her ass, she finishes by slapping her own ass and dropping the mic.

  For about three seconds it was silent before we all gave her a standing ovation. Bowing and then offering a curtesy, she skips back to me and climbs into my lap where she wraps her arms around my neck.

  “I love Fergie,” she says catching her breath. “She’s fucking hot.”

  “You’re hot,” I tell her. “You can’t sing for shit but you don’t have to wh
en you do what you just did. Damn, little Bet, that was the hottest thing I ever saw. My dick is giving you a standing ovation.”

  “I thank you and your dick. You’re up Ricky Martin,” she giggles reaching for her bag. She’s drunk and tossing out nicknames having no idea she nailed it. “Hang on, hot stuff, I’ve got some singles you can work for.”

  “I don’t shake it for anything less than a fiver,” I announce. Laughing even harder, she pulls out a wad of cash and offers me a wink. Grabbing the mic, I head over to the bartender and give him my choice. If he knew the song you’d never know it. He just shook his head and looked over at Bet. He may not get it now, maybe not even later but she would get it and that’s all that mattered.

  No man I have ever seen was sexier than he was. Even when faced with singing live he did it with attitude, his way. Watching him watch me was scorching hot, but this… I have no words for this. But once he started singing I decided that I didn’t need any words, listening to him sing Crazy Bitch to me summed it up and summed it up well.

  I fucking loved this song.

  It was raw, filthy and totally us.

  There was no offense to be had, not by me. Listen to the song, how can a woman be offended when the man she’s fucking sings it to her with lust in his voice? Yeah, she can’t. Coming over to me, he sinks his hands in my hair pulling my head back and meets my eyes when he sings, “Hey, you’re crazy bitch but you fuck so good, I’m top of it. When I dream, I’m doing you all night, scratches all down my back to keep me right on.”

  Putting my hands on his chest, I push him back because this solo was about to become a duo.

  In perfect sync with my back to his front, I grind on him bending over slightly when we both scream, “Baby girl, you want it all. To be a star you have to go down,” he yells into the mic pushing my head toward his dick and I comply. “Take it off, no need to talk,” standing to face him again we finish with, “You’re crazy but I like the way you fuck me!”

  Both of us are panting, the air was thick with our lust and I was never more aware of my femininity as I was at that moment. Never taking his eyes from mine, he pulls me close, tilts my head back and kisses me with strength and need. Moaning into his mouth, I pull him closer but it will never be close enough. The look of possession on his face screamed a million warnings and I gave a fuck about none of them.

  “You and your wife have that spark so many couples who come here lack,” says the bartender breaking the moment. Oddly enough neither one of us corrected him and I would ask myself why later. “It’s good to see two people genuinely in love, I don’t see it enough really. We’ve got shots at the bar,” he says leading us back to our seats after his speech. “Unless you want to make your way back to your room?”

  This man thought we were married. Not a weekend fuckshow but a couple that took vows and meant them. “Shots,” I tell him breaking away from Rio. “Line ‘em up.” I could get my head straight tomorrow but tonight I wanted to enjoy this feeling. Pretending if only to myself, that Rio marrying someone like me was possible. Because when the real world comes calling I’ll be long gone and a man like Rio wouldn’t give a mess like me a second thought.

  Throwing the first one back while reaching for the second Rio runs his hand between my legs and inhales my neck. Looking around the room every staff member watched us with envy so I lean further into him. Just one night, I tell myself. I can enjoy this for one night. “They think we’re married,” he says casually. “I notice you didn’t correct the bartender either. Why is that?”

  “I like that they think I stand a chance with a guy like you, Rio.” I tell him honestly. “They look envious of us, I like that too. I’m enjoying coveting what others would like for their own. I’m extremely competitive, it’s my thing.”

  “You want to covet here or back in the room?”

  “I’d covet on this bar stool and not give a shit, you know that, husband.” I say with a smile but when he loses his my gulp was audible.

  “You got no idea what I’d do to make you my wife,” he says without hesitation. “You got no idea what I’d do just to hear you call me yours. I want you to covet me because I covet you above my own God damn life.”

  “Wow,” I whisper.

  “You’re paying attention,” he says standing up. “Good.”

  Reaching for my bag, I find a wad of cash, more than enough to cover the drinks, tip and their time. Throwing it on the bar, when he extends his hand I take it.

  Waving on the way out, we weren’t even to the steps when he throws me over his shoulder and takes me behind the side of the building where he wasted no time coveting me in the rain.

  When she said husband, I saw her fucking eyes sparkle just before she shut it down. With her pressed against the wall I didn’t know who liked the idea of husband more. The woman who said it or the man who heard it, fuck, but I liked the sound of it coming out of her mouth.

  Both of us are lit up enough that dirty talk wasn’t important. Pushing my shoulders down, I take the cue falling to my knees to worship her. Pulling her bottoms off, I dive in face first (literally). Her moans turn into screams almost instantly. When she came, I felt it and I responded by freeing myself before standing up and forcing her to her knees.

  Bet didn’t question it. Not when I opened her mouth with my fingers and especially not when I shoved my dick down her throat and certainly not when she was gagging on it. No, she sucked me off to the point of coming and she did it with so much aggression it borderline hurt. Pulling her to her feet, I spin her facing the wall bending my own knees to take her from behind. With a spotlight above us, I could see every glorious inch of her from her bouncing ass to the breeze blowing her hair. Fucking her with blunt thrusts, she arches her back just how I like it signaling me to pull that hair of hers.

  Taking one hand to get herself off, I fuck her even harder letting her know I approve. She lets out a loud moan when she starts to come so I pull her hair harder while she rides it out. Feeling my own coming on, she takes that free hand she’d been using and reaches under to grab my balls. The shock of it felt fucking awesome but when she started massaging them in her tiny hand it was game over.

  “Come,” she orders me.

  I did.

  Inside of her, on her ass and even on her back. While we adjust our clothing enough to make the walk back, it’s when she takes my hand that I take the risk of showing her how I feel. Stopping her, I kiss her forehead resting my lips there. “Fuck,” I mumble. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me little Bet.”

  Giving me a small sigh, she looks up and wrecks me. “I can’t be your light, Rio.” She whispers while wearing the saddest look on her face. “As much as I’d like to be, it’s not who I am.”

  “There’s beauty in the dark, Bet. You’re proof of that.”

  When her mouth falls open, I take her hand this time and quietly walk back to the room wondering what happens next. After we both strip and crawl into bed, the craziest shit happens. Bet becomes an open book and the woman was a mother fuckin’ novel.

  “My father’s name was Jeffrey, my mother Juliette. My maiden name was Bet Juliette Dawson. You’ll love this,” she says laughing. “As a kid, my friends called me BJ.”

  “What do they call you now?” I ask.

  “Ma’am, usually,” she says. “I don’t have any friends, Rio.”

  “Money made it difficult?”

  “Money made it impossible.” She says but failed to hide the hurt. “What are your parents’ names?”

  “Frank and Cora,” I tell her.

  “Any siblings?” she asks.

  “No,” I answer.

  “Me either,” she says running her hand over my chest. “My father started a dot com at quite literally the perfect time. One minute I lived a quiet middle class life and the next I was invited to parties with kids I’d never understand.” Sitting up she pulls her knees to her chest and whispers, “Even then, Alan was the only person I could relate to. I th
ink the second I realized he was the normal I was searching for I hung on and refused to let go.”

  “Was he a rich kid, too?”

  “Compared to some yes, I imagine he was but his parents each worked their asses off to send him and Adrian to school. I liked that he didn’t have a luxury vehicle or designer clothes, for me Alan felt like home.”

  “What about Adrian?” I ask. “What’d he feel like?”

  “Competition,” she says. “From day one he fought me for Alan. He hated that my family had money not understanding that I didn’t. When Alan proposed he upped his game. Basically, since I fucked up there was no way Alan was marrying into money and he was getting nothing. That’s when the blackmail started.”

  “What really brought you to the island?” I ask pulling her down to lie next to me.

  “For six years I’ve played the game,” she confesses. “Don’t ask me why, because I don’t have a straight answer. Now I don’t want to play anymore, I just want to be left alone. I believe I’ve suffered enough and it’s time for me to shut him down so I can die in peace.”

  “Meeting you changed my life, little Bet,” I tell her. “Ain’t no way this was an accident. This right here is worth living for, you can’t leave me behind. I sure as fuck couldn’t leave you behind. Admit this is good, that it was meant to happen.”

  “You mean like fate?” she asks. But I don’t answer her because it wasn’t an accident, it was a set up and I felt equally parts shitty and grateful for it.

  “Yeah like fate.” I agree.

  “Fate has never been kind to me,” she whispers. “I don’t trust things I can’t see.”

  “What about trusting something you can feel?” I ask draping my leg over hers. When she yawns, I follow suit and we drifted off together with her never answering my question but never once letting me go.

  As much as I enjoy watching Rio try and convince me, I found myself drowning today. Last night I told him more than I’ve ever told anyone. What was the harm right? After this trip, I’d never see him again and it felt really good to say it, own that shit out loud. Reminding myself no amount of money can buy you a new conscience I don’t bother with the one I have. However, every time I started to lose my way he was there to calm me down. Another thing about Rio is he’s very persuasive. The man can get me to do just about anything, even agree to stay here until the challenge was up.