by H. M. Irwing
“You could have just said no,” I bit out a moment later, referring back to his gripe of us not eloping off to wed. I clutched at his shoulders tightly, trying to hold back a whimper as Erin’s lips continued to torment my exposed breasts.
“And miss out in dealing out this punishment. Hell no,” he whispered huskily before drawing the aching nipple back in to his hot, moist mouth. I squirmed in my seat. So, this was his plan—to torment me with sheer frustration. Erin had not spared a moment in enacting that; instead, as soon as the limo started to roll out of the hotel, Erin already had my dress flung up and over my shoulders and my bra yanked down.
Now, his hands were wedged between my thighs, and his fingers were doing their damnedest to get past my soggy panties and in where it counted. But I wasn’t having it. I would not be punished… kept sexually wanting… just because Rafael wanted a full-blown wedding. My hands were wrapped around Erin’s, trying to keep his wandering fingers at bay.
I clenched my teeth and held back a moan as his quick fingers pushed past my wet folds, unheeding my attempts to waylay him.
“Erin! Please,” I pleaded.
“Hush, baby.” Erin jerked up his head to look down at my flushed face. I knew I looked fucked, and that wasn’t helping. I watched his own eager expression and knew this was costing him too. “God, you’re too much.” His eyes dropped back to my exposed tits, and then, the arm around me tightened. His long fingers reached out to twist and tug at my already sore nipples, even as his other hand worked hard, pumping into me.
“We’re here,” he groaned into my ears a few times before I realized what he was saying. He was not referring to my state of arousal, but to the fact that we were here. I shrieked and struggled to right my clothes.
“Shh, baby. Here, I’ll do it. Let me,” he offered. But I ignored him. I had watched him struggle with my bust and bra before and wasn’t about to again. He seemed better prepared in removing my clothing rather than putting them back on. But I could give him points for persistently trying. I slapped away his fumbling fingers and shoved each globe back into their support.
Ignoring his look of awe, no doubt at my speed in dispensing with the problem, I straightened my panties and pulled my dress back into place just as the limo pulled to a halt, and the door swung open. I moved to get out then, noticing Erin was making no move to do the same. At my questioning look, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone.
“You go ahead. I’ll catch up,” he said meaningfully. Not getting his meaning, I started to ask why, but then, his eyes dropped down to his crotch and the straining evidence of his arousal. My laughter rang out loud and long at that. His disgruntlement on served to provoke me further into yet more gales of laughter.
Chapter 5
I stared on with utter fascination.
With a flick of a finger, Janice shifted her expression and pose so dramatically. So little and yet so much. This was not the first time I had been reduced to awe and admiration over her modeling skills, but with Erin by her side… they were a vision.
I took a bite out of my beef burger—a strange enough find in downtown Paris—and tried to chew noiselessly. The late morning had rushed swiftly away, and now, it was well past noon with the clock striking the bewitching hour of tea time. But the photographer snapped on, and the models appeared as frisky and fresh as ever.
I felt a pang of pity for Erin, who was struggling on valiantly without any supplement. I took another bite, thinking he deserved his suffering. One would think he would have learnt from his mistakes. That his attempts at seduction went both ways, but still, Erin tried at every chance he got to cope a feel that only served to prolong the agony. His and my own.
Just thinking of Erin’s fumbling hands made me bite harder with some relish, taking out my frustrations on the delicious burger. I glared straight at Erin, catching his eye, before I wolfed down the next bite. Erin’s grin broke out, spreading widely across his face and disrupting the take. The photographer called out an explicit oath that ran on into several more complex versions.
I winced on Erin’s behalf, who was completely unaffected by this display. The shot needed him to look sultry sexy, not happy sexy. A distinction perceived only by the most-trained eye in the profession. And by emojis.
But this was not the first time he got reprimanded. Every time his eyes strayed to mine, they seemed to light up with a quiet joy that was no doubt coming through across the camera lenses and onto film.
I tried my best to not draw his attention, but even when I did nothing—did not even look at him—I still felt his eyes rest on me from time to time. Likewise, mine kept defying my attempts to not look at him. But how could I resist? Especially when he looked so delicious. I sank my teeth into another bite, wishing it were something meatier, chunkier, and more than six foot taller. I licked my lips and tried not to moan.
This being in the throes of first love was seriously disruptive business. All I wanted was to butt in there and drag him off to bed, but here I sat, eating away like a cavernous beast.
Janice flicked her eyes my way, and I studiously made an effort to avoid it. This was not the first of the venomous looks that she’d managed. But only when the photographer was no longer snapping. I had yet to have my talk with her. I knew I needed to do it, but I couldn’t bring myself to actually make the effort. This was one thing I had no problems procrastinating, indefinitely.
Or at least until I developed the guts needed to make it happen.
The photographer called out a belated lunch break then surreptitiously turned to throw me a glare. I was disruptive in more ways than one. It was not my fault the burger and chips smelled to die for, especially when it tasted even better. It wasn’t as if I’d made it myself, after all. I hadn’t even bought it. Nope, that was the fault of Erin’s reliable staff—the gopher on the set, the photographer wanna be—Micky Lurgan.
I averted my eyes from catching his gaze too, for his knowing smirks were beyond pale. He knew of my pending marriage. And all I needed was for someone else to blurt it out to Janice before I had a chance to.
The crowd of assistance quickly dispersed, no doubt off to pursue sustenance of their own. I watched Janice slowly slide off her perch on my Erin’s lap and slink off to nibble at her poor excuse of a meal. Erin, of course, came ravenously toward me. Only he wasn’t eyeing up my burger on his approach, or my fries either.
I gulped down the mouthful I had without properly chewing and then lunged for my coke to chug down a mouthful of that too.
“What? Aren’t you going to share?” teased Erin before mercilessly extricating the remains of my burger from my inexplicably lax fingers. I watched in horror as he closed his exquisite mouth over it in a large, wolfish bite then watched the expression of pure bliss cover his features, and I knew. I knew my burger was gone. And that too without a fight.
I may have missed out in the whole of my meal, but I was not about to skimp on my desert. Thankfully, Erin was in line with my thoughts on that. It didn’t take us long to find a quiet corner where we could indulge in the decadent creations with unabashed enthusiasm. But as all things with Erin, this too spun swiftly out of control. No longer was a ferocious make-out session enough to sustain either of us.
“I’ve got you,” Erin murmured softly in my ears. I relaxed once more against him. “That’s it, babe. I’ve got you,” he whispered soothingly. And he did have me. His hands were even now engaging my huge breasts. His breath warmed my ear only a moment before his tongue struck out, laving into it. I shuddered and cried out before renewing my struggles to get free. For a lean guy, he really was all muscles.
“No, baby. Don’t. Stop that,” he chided gently, confusing me, reducing my urge to get free. Then, his hands were pushing down my bra beneath and cupping my tits.
My legs turned wobbly, and I had to lean into him further, “Yes, baby. That’s it. That’s the way,” he whispered hotly into my ear all the while his knowing fingers continued to toy with my nipples and
knead at my breasts.
I felt myself caving in, going under his spell.
“No. Stop,” I whispered out reluctantly. I caught my breath with difficulty, knowing that I had to stop him. We could not possibly make love here. Not where the whole unit could busily return from their break at any time to hover about, doing things just outside this door. And also, there wasn’t enough room. This closet space was just that—a place to store clothes. And Erin wanted to fuck me in here, when we had a huge, luxurious bed in a posh hotel not too far from here. The shoot was almost over. There was no real need to…
“Why?” I breathed out shakily as his other hand slipped up my skirt and moved straight to my pussy.
“Why?” he breathed out quietly. “You have to ask me why,” he said with rising anger. “I saw… I saw how you smiled at him,” he bit out furiously.
Shocked, I tried to spin around to face him. “Wha-what do you mean?” I cried out softly, confused then said again before he could answer, “Who? Who are you talking about?”
“Micky Lurgan,” he said coldly.
Then, it dawned. I had smiled at Micky. I had been ecstatic. He’d made me feel that way.
“He brought me a burger,” I said simply as if that explained it all, and it did. I was hungry and the man brought me food. It was crystal clear to me, but Erin only snarled. Running his hand into my hair, he gripped tightly, pulling my head back then covering my startled cry with his hungry mouth. I moaned then groaned. Erin had to get a better grip on his jealousy.
Rap! Rap!
The interruption was timely. I sprang back from his suddenly lax grip and made to open the door.
“Janice?” I exclaimed, feeling that burn of jealousy of my own. Taking a deep breath, I made to shake it off. So what if she had spent the entire day clad in enticing clothes, draping herself all over my Erin… and not to forget the kissing.
“Sorry, darling, but I haven’t got all day to wait while you love birds rusticate in the … erm … closet space. What is this I hear of a pending engagement?” Janice quirked a questioning brow at me, and I almost groaned out loud. Micky Lurgan.
“Who told you?” I asked anyway.
“Erin’s PA, Micky,” she said with a shrug. I did groan out then. That man was nothing but a nuisance… except for getting me that orgasms-inducing burger. But I wasn’t about to let Erin in on that. Nope, as far as he was concerned, he was the only thing who could induce me to an orgasm. And that was how it was remaining. Burgers were a brief affair anyhow—easily demolished and over in a bite.
“Yes, I am engaged. To Erin, actually.” I twirled my ring about to flash her the hard-rock dead center.
“Hmm,” she said mildly, utterly unimpressed. “We need to talk, you and I.”
I nodded my head. That, we did, and the sooner we did, the better I would be able to enjoy the rest of holiday with Erin.
“I’ll take you to dinner tonight,” she said. Then, running an eye down my dress, she snorted condescendingly. “And dress to impress. I will not tolerate being snapped by the paparazzi with that by my side.”
****
“You don’t have to go,” called out Erin from behind me as I struggled into my silky stockings. I hated the things, but Janice wanted effort, so I would give her effort. I turned to look at Erin, naked and sprawled over the bed, before shaking my head at him.
“This has to be done,” I said to him. “There is no point in putting it off. Can you help me with the corset?”
Erin groaned but got up readily, his quiet feet threading softly across the lush carpet. I stuck my arms through and turned my back to Erin so that he may pull at the strings and suffocate me into this contraption. I wore nothing beneath it. It was to be corset and skirt, stocking and stilettos, all in various shades of, satin and textured, black.
I had already done my hair and makeup. With my shorter hair pulled back into a high ponytail, I knew I looked like I meant business, and with Janice, I certainly did. My dusky gray eye heavily lined, and the mascara-lengthened lashes completed the look. My skirt was knee high, narrow, and slit up to my panty line, and gave me the bitchy edge I needed. When dealing with a bitch, it was best to arm up as one.
I turned to kiss Erin farewell. My fire-engine red lips puckered, and I planted him a noisy smack onto the elegant bridge of his nose. His sensuous lips pulled wide into a crush-provoking grin. Been there, done that and all, but I still tittered on the edges of stilettos, thrown off balance by his sheer magnificence.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to be there with you?” Erin kissed my hair and pulled me into a hug. I couldn’t resist running my hands down his back then lower down across his flanks before settling in to give him a tight squeeze. His moan was swift and arousing. I didn’t want to go at all. Slowly, I shook my head at him, not trusting myself to speak. Then, I simply turned to walk out, stopping only to grab my purse and blow Erin a kiss over my shoulders.
I took the lift down, silently prepping myself for what was ahead. I laid out my facts and went through them in my mind. I had a list—a list of things I had to say—that I had to get off my chest once and for all, and this time, I could not falter. I would not falter. This time, I would say my piece.
The lift stopped on the ground floor, and I strutted out, determined to get this over with. I started at my speech once again from the very beginning, muttering it under my breath as I went to hail a cab. The kind doorman did the task for me. I swallowed my curses as he promptly returned with a taxi in tow. There was no delaying the inevitable, now. I gave the address for the hotel where Janice was staying.
Ironically, when she’d said that she would take me to dinner, what she had really meant was that I would take her to dinner. I’d give her that much as a peace offering for, with what I was about to say, she would need it.
The wait in the lobby was well past half an hour before her highness deigned it time to descend from her penthouse suite and grace me with her stunning presence. She wore a white, knee-length, suede fitted dress. Plain, but otherwise stunning. The cut and the make was brilliant, but it was really her in it that made it exceptional. But the very worst thing about it was that she knew it. It was clearly evident in her strut, in the tilt of her head, in her slow fake laugh—as if she were delighted to see me. When was she ever?
I faked my own smile, determined to play this out ‘til the very end. Looking at our reflection on passing several glitter-edged mirrors in the luxurious foyer, I saw that we went well together. As suited as yin was to yang, as night was to day, and as fat was to thin. In short, not at all. But despite that, we drew attention wherever we went. We were stunning—just not together. I realized that had been the very truth all our lives. We had never been good together.
“So, how’s things with you and Ricky?” I took first blood as soon as I took my seat next to her in the limo.
“Fine, just fine,” she said unconvincingly.
“So, I am engaged to Erin, and as my sister and only blood relative, I thought you might like to attend my wedding, but I wasn’t sure, and I am still not. But that is neither here nor there. What I wanted to say…” my voice started to wobble as my determination wavered. This was so not me. I didn’t do confrontations, not when I could help it. I guess I could help it no longer. This had to be done. “What I really wanted to say, in like forever, is that I almost hate you. I have since you turned twelve. You were a horrendous child—selfish and manipulative—and that has not changed.”
I started to heave in agitation, almost hyperventilating by then, and Janice’s stunned expression was not helping. I shook literally where I sat, no doubt in shock over what I was actually, finally saying. As shocked as Janice. This was not what I had been rehearsing. This was the list but in no particular structured order. This was disorder. Emotional, chaos, and raw.
“Well, to think you had so much to say, and we have not even left the hotel yet,” said Janice mildly, but I could hear the strain beneath her otherwise cool tone.
The drive was short, silent, and uneventful. Our arrival at the posh restaurant was markedly noted and recorded by every paparazzi in the vicinity. Janice posed and flashed her megawatt smile to the max, playing to the attention. I was hard put not to wrap my hand about her wrist and drag her skinny frame inside.
Not because I was being nice, but simply because I knew she was all lean muscles between that skin and bones. And I didn’t think I was ready to pit my fat against her muscles—yet.
So, I refrained, as always, from a more physical confrontation, and waited patiently to follow her in. We were guided to the worst possible spot imaginable for the discussion we were to have. The table was at the very center of the room and likely the most visible the restaurant had to offer. I resisted the urge to flick the bird after the tight-arsed maître’d as he walked snottily away after affording Janice a brilliant smile and depositing us there.
What was it with her and how she made everyone putty in her hands? Everyone except her old manager, me, or her new manager and owner, Ricky.
I opened my mouth to deliver a cutting remark along those lines but caught her eye instead. She lifted her brow and spoke first,” I know you hate me. I hate you, too. But can we not simply be friends?”
I stared at her, appalled.
“Wait. Why do you hate me? And how could we be friends? Do you even know what friends are?”
“Oh, please. As if you do. You have as many friends as I do. Nada. Not one at all,” she said abruptly, choosing to respond to the last of my questions. “There are no such things as friends. That’s all bullshit. Just like love. All propaganda made by good marketing. Just like what Erin and I had been doing all day.” She smirked at me cunningly before delivering the final jab that I was too late to block. “Making love before the cameras; that’s what we were really doing.”