“Don’t worry about Selena,” he tells me. “You know how she is about Olivia.” Jackson rolls his eyes and pulls at the blue collar of his shirt.
“For someone who claims to be so protective of her, she sure put Olivia in some shit situations.”
He takes a sip of his beer. “Yeah, but Selena is her best friend. They’re allowed to do stupid shit and make bad decisions. Fuck, we did—we still do.”
“But Olivia is—”
“Human. I know you love her and you’re getting married and all of that crazy shit, but she’s still human. She’s curious, and impulsive and known to make bad decisions at times, but she has history with Selena. They grew up together and they’re best friends. Don’t belittle Selena because you see her as a threat.”
A threat? I don’t see Selena as a threat, do I? No. Selena is not a threat…she’s just trouble. I’d never do anything to force Selena and O apart, but Selena needs to realize that I’m not going to step to the side and let her force Olivia into stupid situations—and she also needs to realize that I’m not like Blade. I appreciate what I have. I know Olivia is one in a million and I wouldn’t fuck that up, not even for all of the cherry-lipped, big breasted women in the world. Trading someone you love for something you lust is like trading a grilled chicken salad for a bag of potato chips. Sure, they taste good while you’re eating them, but when it’s finished, you feel sick and you’re still hungry. Meanwhile, the guy with the chicken salad is satisfied, he feels good, and he’s nourishing his body with real nutrients. Blade took his chicken salad and traded it for a bag of chips because he’s a fucking idiot. Now, I have the salad and I won’t trade it for anything—chips, cake, chocolate or otherwise. If only Selena would stop trying to convince herself that I’m scouting for chips.
I slam the last of my third—fourth? “Second.” I say out loud in an awkward, kind of slurry tone. “Now I remember. This is my second beer.”
Jackson chuckles as my head violently rolls. “Five. You’ve had five beers, mate.”
Either I’m hearing things, or Jackson’s voice is slurred, too. Fuuuuck. I need to go home. Selena appears at Jackson’s side and she wraps an arm around his waist. He leans a lot of his weight on her and she groans under the pressure. “It’s seven beers for the both of you. Time to go.”
Selena stumbles with Jackson across the club floor. I look around…the club has wound down and only handfuls of people litter the room instead of throngs. I follow behind the others, proud with how straight I’m walking. In front of Selena and Jackson, Darryl is being carried out by another one of my teammates—Aaron, our towel guy. Compared to them, I must look sober and when I think about it, I’m not that drunk, just heavily tipsy.
I snap my attention to the left as a heavy arm hooks around mine. I glance down, only to see Nicole, hanging off my arm. “Leaving so soon, honey?”
I feel my body sag into itself. How’d I not see this coming? I was hoping she left hours ago.
“Who’s place, mine or yours?”
I free my arm from hers and stop walking. I’m too tired for this shit now. My eyes are heavy, I can barely keep them open and my head is dangerously close to toppling off my neck.
“I am going home to my fiancée, alone.”
She smiles. I’m not going to get out of this, am I? “Seth Marc, settling down. When we met, you didn’t even ask for my name and now you’re settling down.” She shakes her head and sighs. “How ironic. Anyway, it’s almost morning and I live the next street over. Go home to the other woman in the morning. She doesn’t have to know.”
In front of, us Selena snaps around, leaving Jackson to keep his balance on his own.
“Didn’t you hear him? He said he has a fiancée.” The growl in Selena’s voice triggers Jackson and puts him on edge. He sobers and grabs her wrist, holding it tightly. Selena isn’t exactly a ‘let’s talk it out’ kind of girl, apparently, and I’m way too tired and tipsy to break up a cat fight.
Nicole smiles. “You say that like it means anything in Vegas.” She turns her gaze on me. “Last chance, baby, come home with me.”
Selena steps forward with a grunt, but Jackson pulls her back. “Selena, stop,” he orders and she stills in her movements, but her eyes never leave Nicole’s face.
I have to deal with this, not Selena. I’ve given this woman a few chances to walk away unhurt, but now I have to take matters into my own hands. If she wants a straight out, curt, brutal answer, she’s going to get one.
“I don’t want to go home with you,” I tell her. “I’m looking at you and I don’t remember a goddamn thing about you. Sure, I could go home with you now, have sex and leave, but I guarantee I’d forget you—again—by lunch time tomorrow.” Her lips part and she narrows her eyes at me in an ugly scowl. “I’d much rather go home to the girl that I love. A girl that could be standing naked in a pitch-black room and I’d still be able to kiss every single freckle in their exact location going off my memory alone.” She shifts her posture and I hear Selena snicker under her breath. “You are forgettable because you’re like everyone else and the girl I’m going home to, isn’t.”
Not waiting for a response or a reaction, I walk off, passing Selena and Jackson and ending up outside in the cool desert air. The bouncer slaps my back on the way out and murmurs words of congratulations that I don’t hear. I just want to go home. I’ve spoken to enough people and I’ve done enough interviews for one day. Not to mention all of the interviews and talk shows I have to do the next two weeks leading up to my fight with Don. Selena busts out of the door after me, squealing like a baby pig. I cringe and watch her as she runs towards me and flings her arms around my neck.
“I believe you.” She laughs, squeezing me.
I pat her back and frown at Jackson, who smiles widely walking out of the club.
She lets go and steps back. “I believe that you really do love Olivia and all doubts I had are gone.”
“Good, now I can breathe a little easier because this whole marriage thing depended purely on what you thought.” I try to keep my face serious, but I fail and smile. Selena rolls her eyes.
“Thank you,” I tell her. “Now let’s go home.”
Right on cue, a taxi pulls up and Aaron drags Darryl’s heavy, alcohol-filled body over to it. I open the door then Aaron stuffs him inside and climbs in after him. I don’t know how, but all four of us managed to fit inside and I think I fell asleep against Selena’s shoulder…the next thing I remember is her poking my head with an awkwardly twisted hand and looking at me like I’m meant to be doing something.
“Open the door,” she says. “The other one is broken.”
I glance at Aaron, who holds Darryl as far away from him as he can. Darryl is curled up against the far door with his mouth open as he drools onto his own shoulder. Classy. I laugh at him while Jackson fumbles into his jean pockets for his phone. He opens his camera and takes snapshot of Darryl.
“I’m saving that for later,” Jackson slurs, zooming in on Darryl’s face.
I open the door and practically fall from the car. I draw myself to full height and I don’t wait for the others as I stumble through the lobby of the MGM and into a random elevator. I don’t pay any attention to my surroundings. My brain is too mushy to absorb any of the details and after twenty minutes of strolling around, I finally make it to my door. I reach into my back pocket and the only thing that touches my fingers is the denim fabric. It’s empty. Shit. I left my key card inside on the coffee table. I bang my head softly against the door…What the hell am I going to do? I didn’t plan on waking Olivia up when I came home and I was even going to sleep on the couch. The wood collides with my numb head a few more times as I bang it quietly against the timber. Minutes later, when I look around the hallway for a comfortable spot to fall asleep, the door to our room opens. My eyes drag up her bare legs, over a pink see-through sleep dress thing and settle on two nipples barely hidden by the sheer fabric. The visions soak into my eyes and drips down my insides, pooling right between my legs. I want to peel it off with my teeth.
“Seth? Where’s your keycard?” She yawns, husky from sleep.
I force my eyes up to her face and she swats a stray strand of chocolate colored hair away from her cheek.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Stutter. I almost fucking stutter at my wife-to-be because she’s wearing a see-through babydoll. What am I, sixteen?
“You didn’t mean to wake me? You were banging pretty hard.”
Was I? Maybe I’m drunker than I thought. Forgetting everything at the words banging and hard that fell from her lips, I launch at her and force her back into the room. I kick the door shut as my arms wrap around her waist and I draw her into me. I have her face in my hands and I pull her mouth to mine. The taste of her mouth brings my dick to a painful point of confinement in my jeans. She wraps her arms around my waist, hanging on for dear life as my mouth molds to her. Her touch sends a streak of fire through me as she parts her lips to my kiss and our tongues rush to meet. Just as abruptly as I started it, I break the kiss, holding Olivia’s flustered face inches from my own, drilling her with my stare.
“Ride me,” I breathe, desperate to feel her warmth engulf me. “Make me yours.”
“You’re already mine,” she points out and I shake my head.
I want to her to claim me so hard other girls can smell her on me. “You have to prove it over and over for the rest of our lives. I want to be reminded. Every time I forget, claim me back, just like I would for you.”
She gulps deep, slow breaths and the seconds begin to feel like small eternities. Without an answer, she slowly, deliberately, rises up on tip-toe to capture my lips. A low groan comes from deep in my throat, and my hands touch her everywhere at once, popping the dainty buttons on her babydoll, freeing her breasts from the fabric, lifting the dress over my hips and tearing her flimsy underwear from her body. How many panties do I have to go through before she gets the picture? Maybe I should put up a sign. ‘This house is a panty free zone.’
Olivia yanks my shirt open, destroying the buttons on my clothes for a change. The heavy buttons drop to the floor with little plops as her fingertips lightly tease the hot skin of my stomach, my hips, and then skilfully divesting my belt, and opening my button fly.
My mouth joins my hands in the endeavor to touch every inch of her skin and a violent shudder tears through her body .My mouth is at her neck, her lips—her eyelids in a heart beat, and I grip her elbows and draw her back with me, until my calves hit the couch and I fall into the seat, dragging her down onto my lap. Olivia’s legs straddle me, her warm strong thighs above mine as our kisses grow wild and bruising. My hands engulf her breasts and the feel of her smooth, milky skin causes a light layer of goosebumps to erupt over me. I lay kisses down her throat to the swell of her breasts. Above me, I can feel the hot, silky smoothness of her center brushing against my shaft. The tip of my dick is wet with pre-cum and Olivia raises herself up slightly, maneuvering her opening over my crystal-hard erection. As the warmth of her creases graze my eager tip, our frenzied movements halt and we freeze, both caught in the other’s gaze. She looks at me differently than she ever has before…there’s no soft, gentle look to her, only the fierce arousal her lust-filled lids revealed and I’m certain I’m mimicking it. My hands grip her hips and I harshly thrust up, forcing Olivia to plunge down. She lets out a strangled moan and I cup the back of her head, fastening my mouth over hers to swallow the sounds of pleasure she’s making. She feels amazing, so tight and ready for me, that I have to be careful not to come right now.
“Ride me,” I demand, stilling my hips and letting her take control.
She gasps and her breath is steamy as it skirts across my jaw. Her walls flutter and clench around me.
“Fuck,” I moan, letting my head roll back against the couch. “Squeeze me again.” Her legs twitch around me as her pussy clenches and she rises up and sinks back down on me.
Squeeze, relax, Squeeze, relax. Heat coils in my stomach and rolls through my body in perfectly timed waves. I grip her hips harder, she knows just how to bring me over the edge, how to use her body to make me come for her—and she gets better at it every time we fuck. Olivia begins to lose her rhythm, as her walls tighten and she draws nearer to orgasm. I love it. I love that I have the power to make her lose control.
“Are you going to come?” I ask and she bites down on her bottom lip, nodding profusely.
“So fucking hard,” she squeezes out.
I push her off of me, laying her on her back on the couch. Her legs surround my waist and she pushes herself up on her elbows to get closer to my mouth. Her wetness flows on my cock and I slip in and out with ease. Olivia makes a high moaning noise in the base of her throat and against my lips before she drops against the couch, arching her back.
“Seth,” she gasps in warning. “Seth…Seth…” My name comes out in heavy pants and not a second later, her pussy clamps down on my thick cock. I pump her harder and faster as everything tightens inside me. The pressure in my groin builds up to absurdly high levels and my head fills with white noise as I reach my limit and sail over the edge, groaning and flooding her with hot, sticky fluid. My arms tremble under my weight as I hold myself above her and I give in, lowering myself onto her chest. Olivia wraps her tired arms around me and she kisses my damp forehead. I angle my head down to hers and she slowly lifts her mouth to meet mine. She explores my mouth lazily with her lips and tongue, and I threaten to fall asleep while she does it.
