by JA Low
“Move over,” she says, pushing me out of the way so she can step into the shower. “This feels good.” She moans as the hot water cascades down her body. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks.
“Um, because you’re naked in my shower.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I heard you calling my name, so I assumed you wanted me to join you,” she replies brightly before taking the shower gel and squeezing it into her palm, then she lathers herself.
“Nell,” I say her name with a warning.
“What?” she says, looking over her shoulder at me innocently. My dick is twitching back to life again. She better be careful.
“Are you testing me?”
“Nope. I’m just getting clean,” she replies, shrugging her shoulders as if the two of us showering is an everyday normal thing. I watch her rinse the soap off her body. My eyes follow the streams of white foam down her back, over her hips, and down between her ass cheeks. But I’m holding myself back because she’s still sick, and she hasn’t invited me to do anything to her. So, I’ll wait till she is ready for me. “All clean.” Nell turns around, giving me a wide grin. Her eyes dip to my lips and then they move further south, over my chest, down my stomach to my now hardened dick. Then she reaches out and scrapes her nail down my chest. “Looks like you’re all clean too,” she says huskily. This woman is testing me. “But I think I might have missed a spot. It’s always hard to get,” she explains to me as she reaches out and grabs my wrist, placing my hand between her thighs.
“Nell?” I warn her. She takes one of my fingers and drags it through her folds before inserting it inside of her.
“See, I told you, Remi. I’m still dirty.”
I lose my motherfricken mind, that is the hottest action any woman has done to me. My fingers find her wet and ready as they slip between her folds easily. She falls forward at my movement and places her hands on my shoulders. Her nails dig into my skin as she rides my finger.
“You’re such a filthy girl, aren’t you?”
“Hmmm.” Nell moans as my fingers curl deep inside of her. I know I’ve reached the spot when her nails dig harder into my skin.
“Your greedy little cunt is taking my fingers as if it’s starved. Has it missed me?”
“Fuck, Remi,” she curses as my hand moves between her thighs.
“No one fills its hunger like I do, do they?”
“Yes!” Nell screams as my thumb connects with her clit. “Yes. Yes. Yes.” she screams as her pussy constricts against my hand as she falls forward and rests her head against my shoulder as aftershocks quake through her body. Slowly, I slip my fingers from her and wrap myself around her. I turn the shower off and step out with her wrapped in my arms. I grab a towel and wrap it around her and grab another to wrap around my waist. Then I pick her up and carry her limp body to her bed, where I lay her down and gently dry her off. She’s a gooey mess and has never looked more beautiful. I grab a T-shirt from her wardrobe and slide it over her head, there’s no need for underwear, then I tuck her back under the covers before drying myself off and jumping in next to her naked. I roll over and pull her against me. She mumbles her thanks and promptly falls asleep and I’m not far behind her.
26
Nell
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Jarred says, kissing my cheek as he hands me a dozen red roses. Aw, this is so sweet. I’ve known Jarred for a while now, he’s older than me. I’ve opened my dating horizons to a new age bracket. We see each other around town at certain hotspots and openings. He’s some fancy finance guy on Wall Street. He slid into my DMs, and we’ve been chatting for a while now, but our schedules have been so out of whack over the holidays that we haven’t caught up. But we finally did a couple of weeks ago, and now here we are about to attend Dior’s Valentine’s party together. This could be the start of something nice for me. Putting Remington Hartford out of my mind again. Yes, we had fun over the new year. We basically never left my bed for a week straight. My friends thought I was crazy, but after the number of orgasms he was delivering, I didn’t care. It was nice, just the two of us in our own little bubble, no outside forces like my brother or his many conquests trying to pull us apart. We ate, drank, had sex, and chilled out. It was exactly how I wished things could have been all those years ago, but I guess we are older and wiser now. But as they say, all good things must end, and our week together did. He had to go back up to my parents to work, and well, my life is in the city, we are living on two totally different paths. It’s probably for the best our lives are so interconnected that a relationship would mess it all up, especially for my dad. He loves Remi like a son, and it would kill him to have to fire Remi for fraternizing with his daughter, but he would. I could never ask my father to get rid of his best polo player because he broke my heart again. So, it’s for the best that I concentrate on Jarred and our budding relationship and put Remi far from my mind.
“Thank you so much for these flowers, they are gorgeous,” I say as I place the vase on the dining table. He doesn’t need to see the other arrangement Remi sent me, which is in the guest bedroom, hidden away. “I’m excited to introduce you to my friends. But I will warn you Dior’s parties are wild.”
“I’m sure it will be fine,” Jarred says, pulling me into his arms and kissing me. Dior’s parties are not for the faint of heart. She is a wild party girl, and she expects the same level of partying from her guests. We make our way downstairs where our car is waiting for us. I told Audrey and Rainn to meet us there. We hop in and head on downtown to where Dior’s hipster loft is.
“How was work?” I ask Jarred.
“Had a big client come in that I had been working on for the past couple of months and finally signed him on Friday,” Jarred tells me excitedly.
“Oh wow, that’s so amazing. Congrats.” I have no idea what he does. I know he’s told me once, but I kind of tuned out because let’s be real, finance can be a little boring.
“Thanks, babe, it’s going to be a nice bonus. Maybe I can get you something nice,” he says, giving me a wide smile. I understand the whole older guy, younger girl dynamics; I’ve lived in the city for a long time, but this girl can buy her own things. But I won’t say no to anything from Cartier if he’s wondering. “And how about you, how did your week go with your little business?”
I bristle at his question. I understand people don’t think being an influencer is a job, but it is especially if you are a successful one like I am. Just because I have a trust fund that I have access to doesn’t mean I don’t want to make my own money. I’m just biding my time until I can prove to my mother that I’m good enough to join her business. I understand what my mom is doing is making me stand on my own two feet, learn new skills, build a business from the ground up because those life skills are invaluable, but I hope it won’t be for too much longer.
“Actually, I just signed on with a new client, and it was one of my biggest deals yet,” I tell him, feeling proud of myself, even Meadow, my manager, was ecstatic.
“Congrats to you too, babe.” He leans over and nuzzles my neck. “How does the whole influencer thing work?” he asks. He seems genuinely curious from the arch of his brow he’s giving me.
“People pay for posts; they could be daily, weekly, monthly. They could be in my reels or photos. I could do a live demonstration on my socials too. Plus, so much other stuff.” It’s hard to explain this world to outsiders.
“So, like they pay you what, a thousand dollars a post or something?” he questions me. I don’t mean to burst out laughing, but he really doesn’t know how much I earn.
“Oh no. My starting rate for one photo is ten grand.”
Jarred pales and I can see him doing the math of the number of posts I do. His eyes widen at the figure he thinks I earn, but whatever he has in his head, he should double it or even triple it.
“This new deal is one hundred and fifty for the week,” I tell him, trying not to be smug about it.
“Wow. I had no idea. You ge
t paid to just pose and stuff,” he asks.
“It’s not that simple. I sit down and have a meeting with the marketing team, and they tell me what they want me to tell in my posts. What products they want. I have a schedule of when they want things posted etc. It’s a full-time job.”
Jarred nods and I can see he is trying hard to be open-minded, but he still thinks what I do is easy. I’m sure playing in the stock market is easy, too. Eventually, after that awkward car ride, we arrive at Dior’s loft, exit, and get our names marked off at the door before being let up. Once we exit the elevator, we step into Dior’s valentine den of debauchery where we’re met with half-naked people swinging from the loft’s ceiling dressed as cupids. Near naked staff are handing out food and drink, so I grab a glass of pink champagne while Jarred tries not to stare at the topless server’s painted breasts. He fails.
“You made it.” Dior greets us before we step any further into her home. She’s dressed in a white toga with one enhanced breast hanging out with a red heart pastie covering her nipple. I know she will not be wearing any underwear under that toga that only just covers her ass. Her blonde hair is pulled up into a high pony, and she has a red leather whip by her side. I do not know what she is, but it’s slutty and that’s all that matters. Because I was coming here with Jarred and I didn’t want to spook him so early on, I settled on a gorgeous red sequin evening dress that has a thigh-high split, deep V to show off my cleavage, and my hair is down in old Hollywood waves. I look like a blonde Jessica Rabbit.
“Oh my god, you look so hot, you filthy bitch,” Dior says, looking me over. “And who’s this, your sugar daddy?” Dior’s eyes light up as she takes in Jarred. She has always liked older men, not for their intellect but for their wallets. Jarred introduces himself to her, and she practically loses it over his politeness. “You come look for me when you’re done with her.” Dior gives him a wink before something new catches her attention and she’s off.
I cringe at her overt flirtation with my date. “See, I told you Dior is wild,” I say, giggling awkwardly.
“She’s certainly different, that’s for sure,” Jarred says, but not before he turns and looks back in the crowd at where Dior disappeared to. A tiny bubble of jealousy takes flight in my stomach, but I know Dior’s flirting means nothing; she does it to everyone male or female so she’s probably being friendly and she’s drunk. She’s even more flirtatious when she’s drunk. Usually, I find it funny, but Jarred’s reaction has caught me off guard. Maybe I’m overthinking it all and seeing things where there is none.
We continue through the party, saying hello to people as we go until I run into my girls, Rainn and Audrey.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” they both greet me.
“Hey guys,” I say, giving them both hugs. “Happy Valentine’s Day. You remember Jarred, don’t you?” I reintroduce the girls to him. They say hello and begin small talk with him.
“Did you ladies want more drinks?” Jarred asks, looking at our empty glasses. I give him a nod, and he walks off in search of champagne.
“How are things going?” Audrey asks.
“I don’t know. He’s a nice guy but some things he’s done tonight have annoyed me,” I explain to the girls. Then I tell them about the car ride over, the way he checks out other women, Dior’s flirting. “Am I overreacting?” I ask them both.
“No way in the world,” Rainn agrees. “Those are legitimate red flags.” Great, it’s doomed before it’s even begun.
“Try to enjoy your night and worry about tomorrow, tomorrow,” Audrey tells me.
Maybe she’s right, I can’t do anything about Jarred now; I’m stuck with him, but I can certainly enjoy myself.
Hours later I’ve enjoyed myself a little too much, but I don’t care I’m having fun, but I can tell my fun is not Jarred’s kind of fun.
“Fancy seeing you here,” a deep voice whispers into my ear. Oh no. I twirl around rather quickly at the sound of Remi’s voice and practically topple over into his arms. He reaches out and grabs me. Electricity runs through my veins at the tiniest of touches from him. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Nell.” Remi leans in and places a kiss at the corner of my mouth.
“Hey, there.” Jarred stands up and pulls me from Remi’s arms back into his. He’s shooting daggers at Remi as if he is ready to wage war. Remi’s glaring back, obviously confused by this dude’s claim over me. “That’s my girl you are manhandling,” Jarred growls at Remi.
“Your girl?” Remi asks, his voice rising to a what the fuck is this guy talking about range. He turns to where I am standing, wrapped in Jarred’s arms, and raises a brow in my direction, questioning me.
“This is my date, Jarred,” I explain to Remi. “And this is Remington Hartford. He works for my father,” I explain to Jarred.
“You’re the polo player?” Jarred questions him. Remi doesn’t even answer. He just glares at me. I shrink under his intensity.
“Nice to see you again, Nell. Guess I’ll see you around.” And with that, Remi storms off into the party. He has no right to be angry; we aren’t together.
“He’s a bit of an arrogant jerk, isn’t he?” Jarred remarks, bewildered by the exchange.
“You, okay?” Audrey whispers to me. I nod in agreement.
“Don’t worry about him. Polo players have the biggest egos,” I say, trying to make light of the situation, not wanting to ruin Valentine’s night any more than it has. Next year I’m staying single.
“He acted a little too familiar with you,” Jarred questions me.
“I dated him when I was sixteen,” I answer Jarred with a sneer.
“And you’re over it?” Jarred questions me.
“Of course, I am,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around him reassuringly. “I have you now.” I know pumping up Jarred’s ego will make him forget about Remi almost kissing me in front of him.
Once I got Jarred drunk, he was a hell of a lot more fun, but I was ready to go home and wanted to say goodbye to Dior. I walk around the party looking for her, but of course she’s MIA. Probably taken someone into her room and is having her wicked way with them. I do not want to see that. But a flash of blonde hair catches my attention as I see her rush past me, pulling someone behind her. She turns around and pulls them into her arms and begins kissing their face off. My stomach sinks as I watch Remi kiss her back.
“Fuck if you kiss like that, I can’t wait to see how you fuck,” Dior purrs, and I instantly want to be sick.
“Nellie. Oh my god, Nellie, I haven’t seen you all night. I’m so sorry,” Dior says apologetically. “Nellie is one of my best friends.” She directs her comment to Remi before turning her attention back to me. “Babe, I’m about to take this hunk to bed, so check you later,” she says with a grin. Remi stands there frozen, just like I am, as we stare at one another. We agreed no friends. He promised me. “Do you two know each other?” Dior eventually asks as she notices the tension between us.
“Not anymore I don’t.” And with that, I turn on my heel and run back through the party, tears streaming down my face. An overwhelming feeling of suffocation takes over and I run out onto the terrace to catch some fresh air.
“Nell, I did not know you guys were friends,” Remi tries to explain to me.
“She’s one of my best friends, Remi!” I scream at him as tears run down my cheeks. “She’s all over my socials. How have you not noticed?
“Because I’m not looking at her!” he yells back at me.
“She sure got your attention tonight, didn’t she?”
“How’s your date going? It seems like it’s past his bedtime; don’t they have a curfew at the old folks’ home.” He sneers at me.
“Fuck you, Remi. You don’t get a say on who I date.”
“And you don’t get a say on who I fuck.”
We both stand there, each of us vibrating with anger.
“Fuck you. Go on and fuck Dior, I hear she’ll let you do anal on the first night!” I yell at him.
&n
bsp; Never in my life have I ever been so angry. I’m out of here. I don’t need to put up with this from him. I storm off past Remi, but he reaches out and grabs me, pulls me to his chest, and kisses me. Fuck him. How fucking dare he touch me after touching her!
I knee him in the balls, and he falls like a sack of potatoes.
I’m done.
27
Nell
“I think you’re being a little harsh on Remi,” Audrey suggests to me as we sit getting our make-up done for the annual Davenport Gala that Audrey’s mother runs every year raising funds for charities. This year is a little strained as her brother Rhys just found out that his wife and best friend have been sleeping together and it’s turned into a major shit show.
“I think she’s not being harsh enough,” Rainn pipes in.
“Aud, you can’t be serious; he kissed Dior!” I exclaim to her.
“Okay, that was shit, but have you ever introduced them to each other?” she asks.
“No. But she is all over my socials.”
“To be fair, she looks like a million other blonde influencers,” Rainn adds with a chuckle, which makes me frown.
“Have you ever told Dior about you and Remington?” Audrey asks with an accusatory, arched brow.
“No. Because all that happened before I met Dior.”
“Then do you think that maybe, just maybe, it was all one big giant coincidence? A shitty one, but still not premeditated.”
“You had a date,” Rainn adds.
“I thought you two were my ride or die. I don’t see no riding or dying.” I groan dramatically, folding my arms across my chest angrily.
“Babe, we are, and that is why we are calling you out on your drama,” Rainn adds seriously.