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I place a quick kiss to her lips before wrapping my arm around her and pulling her close. “Thank you for having me over for dinner. It was nice to meet your parents. I have to say that dessert was exceptional.”
“I know Daddy cornered you. I hope it wasn’t too bad.” I don’t have many experiences I can compare to my meeting with Brother Maxwell. I’ve not been that guy you take home for the past three years. And prior to Eden, I wasn’t serious with anyone. I don’t have a lot of experience in the girlfriend’s father department.
Girlfriend.
“He’s your father and he loves you. He just wanted to make sure I had honorable intentions where you are concerned.”
She nudges me with her shoulder again. “Well, I hope like hell you don’t. I’m optimistic your intentions are completely crude and ungentlemanly.”
“I shot my cum into your mouth and you swallowed it. I don’t think it gets much cruder than that.” Brother Maxwell would shit and die if he knew we did that right underneath his nose.
“Yeah. That was pretty lewd.” I loved it. Watching her swallow my load was literally one of the biggest turn-ons I’ve ever experienced. Not all girls do that.
“I guess I won’t see you until Sunday.”
This time I nudge her. “I’m hoping you don’t mean so we can go to church together like we promised.”
“No. We’re going to the bedroom instead.” So I can worship her body.
“Which one?”
“I was thinking yours since you’re more comfortable there. Unless Drunk Lacey plans to come back.” This is the first time she’s brought up my unexpected visitor.
“I fixed Lacey. She won’t be coming back around anymore.”
“Good. Because it made me jealous having another woman around. Especially when I know you’ve fucked her.”
Possessive lovers are sexy as fuck, and Max is about as sexy as they come. She doesn’t want me hard for anyone but her. And knowing that—hearing her profess her jealousy—makes me want her more than ever. Now.
Infidelity can fuck so hard with your head. Eden’s betrayal made me question everything about my manhood. That’s not an easy thing to admit, even to myself. I think it’s why I’ve spent the last three years bed hopping. Proving my virility.
Going through all that pussy only managed to prove one thing: I didn’t need woman after woman. I just needed the right woman. Because not a single one of them, who I can barely recall now, made me feel like more of a man than Adelyn.
This beautiful girl wants me. Only. Me. And, God, do I ever welcome that.
“You’re the only one I want to fuck. And I fear that desire is going to become a huge problem really soon if I don’t get up and go home right now.” She’s already told me she’s considering pulling down her panties and letting me have it bareback. As much as I like that idea, it’s a bad one. We both know this.
I lean over and kiss her lips. “Sunday night, baby. Be ready.”
She grins like an imp. “See you then.”
Adelyn Maxwell
Lawrence texts me after they’ve parked. Showtime.
I cue the band to my announcement, and they end their song. I cross the stage and go to the mic on the stand. “Can I have everyone’s attention, please? Hello.” I wave. “I’m Adelyn, the event coordinator for this little shindig.”
There are a few whistles and catcalls. “Thank you. Our guest of honor is about to enter the building. Can I get everyone to gather in the center of the dance floor?” It’s a huge crowd so it takes a minute for everyone to shift into place.
Lawry invited all their Birmingham friends, hometown friends and family, and their most important business associates. I think there were three hundred on the guest list. Definitely one of the bigger birthday bashes I’ve planned.
“Okay, everybody. When Oliver and Lawrence make their way around the bar, I will tap the microphone three times to cue the band to stop playing and for you to yell surprise. Until then, as you were.”
Coming in now.
Lawrence has made this party preparation so easy. She mostly left all the decisions up to me, which actually makes things much easier. And it doesn’t hurt she’s notified me of their every move since they got in the car to come this way.
I’m in my hiding place, peeking around the maroon velvet curtain when Oliver, Lawrence, and Tap come around the bar toward the performance stage.
Damn. Oliver is so hot.
And all mine later tonight.
He’s wearing dark-washed jeans, typical Oliver, but his usual T-shirt has been traded for a black button-down. The sleeves are rolled to his upper forearms, showing off his tattoo sleeve. And he’s had a haircut since the last time I saw him. It’s closely buzzed on the bottom. I can’t wait to see if it’s as prickly as it looks.
I see recognition on his face. He’s made contact with someone he knows. It’s now or the surprise is blown.
I tap the mic three times. “Surprise!”
He stops dead in his tracks, looks around at the crowd, and then his sister. He says something but I can’t make out what it is. However, I am able to read his lips when he says “fuck.” That’s my boy’s favorite word.
The band plays a single acoustic chord of “Happy Birthday” and then flows into the next song. This isn’t a birthday party for a three-year-old. Let’s not do that.
I want to see Oliver but friends and family surround him. I don’t want to interrupt so I make my rounds, ensuring every detail is as it should be. I want this to be perfect for Oliver. The perfect start to the perfect night I have planned after this party.
My phone buzzes.
I know you’re here somewhere.
I was hopeful he would contact me.
In the back ensuring everything runs smoothly.
* * *
Come see me when you can. I want to introduce you to people.
With the room full of friends, family members, and business associates, I was a little worried he would get busy or so caught up with his friends and forget about me. But he hasn’t. And that makes me grin like a big fool.
K. Give me 20.
I find a few problems in the kitchen but nothing I can’t handle. This is what I do. I always find a way to make the car go even when it’s rolling on four flats.
But delegation? I could stand to work on that a bit. Or a lot.
And I think I’ll start now. “Michelle, I’m going to step away for a bit. Think you can take over for a while?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Michelle has been my employee for a year. It’s time I give her the opportunity to demonstrate her abilities to handle an event like this. And perhaps if she does a good job, I can delegate some of the smaller events to her. And maybe that means I get some weekend time with Oliver. And my girls.
“I’ll be around if you need anything. Just drop me a text.”
“Absolutely.”
I navigate through the crowd. No Oliver. Until I look up and see him on the catwalk, talking with two women. My heart instantly transforms from the tortoise into the hare and my gut plummets to my feet.
This is the physical form of jealousy stirring in my belly. And I hate it. But it’s what happens when you have feelings for someone. And that’s what’s going on here.
I’m developing more than lust for Oliver.
I’m falling for him.
He spots me looking at him from below and gives me the come up here and join us wave. I nod and head toward the staircase.
He wraps his arm around my lower back when I reach him and his fingers squeeze my hip. He knows I was jealous about Lacey. Maybe this is his way of telling me to not worry because these women mean nothing to him.
I hope so.
“This is Lovibond’s event coordinator and my neighbor, Adelyn.” I know I’m not his girlfriend, but we are involved, so the way he labels me causes me to pause. Deflate.
“Hello.”
He’s gone down on me. And fucked me. I’ve sucked him off and swa
llowed his cum. We’ve agreed to try things in the relationship aspect and bedroom as well. I think I qualify as more than the person he hires to coordinate corporate events or the woman living next door.
“These are Lawrence’s best friends from home. Ivy and Kelsey.”
I definitely want to make a good impression with these women even if Oliver has irritated me by glossing over our relationship. “Nice to meet you. I hope you’re having a good time.”
“Everything is great.” Kelsey turns and points at the balloon chandelier with photos. “Adore that. So creative.”
“People always love those. They usually turn it into a game to see who can send in the funniest pictures.”
“Whoever sent in the one of Oliver in the womanless beauty review wins.”
Ivy raises her hand. “That would be me. You made one fugly woman, Stout.”
Oliver squeezes my hip and grins. “Maybe that’s why I never took up drag.”
“You did everyone a favor when you didn’t.” I suspect they’re right; Oliver is very much a man. Full dark beard. Broad shoulders. Bulging biceps. Rippled abs. V at his waist.
Perfect dick.
No. He’d make a terrible drag queen. I don’t think Maurice could do a thing with him.
“Ohhh, shhhit.”
“What is it?”
“It’s Marlana. She’s coming this way.” Who’s Marlana?
The question barely registers before I see her. Oh. Bootylicious.
