“Thank you.”
“Why do they call you Juice anyway?” Monica asks as she sits back down.
Kayne chuckles animatedly as I grin stupidly. “One night I made the foolish mistake of showing Kayne and Jett how I can dislocate my jaw and juice an entire orange down my throat.”
“It was one of the funniest things I have ever seen!” Kayne cracks up, nearly falling back in his chair just as our breakfast is served. It also went along with a whole host of dirty innuendos that I will keep between the three of us.
“Something else to add to the glowing resume,” Alec adds entertained.
“Yes, it is.” I laugh at myself.
“Oh,” Kayne touches Jess’ arm as he looks at his phone. “Can we have two more orders of French toast?”
“Sure thing.”
“Ellie and Tara are on their way.” He lets us know.
Perfect timing.
Before we even have time to start on our meals, Tara and Ellie come strolling up to the table arm and arm, the two of them laughing, sounding so much alike. I can hardly believe how my heart still races when I see her.
Tara takes a seat next to me as Ellie makes a beeline straight for her father. She puts her hand on his shoulders and glares down at him. I’ve seen that look many times when she’s about to put Kayne in his place.
“Daddy,” she says strictly. “Leave CJ and Tara alone.” Everyone at the table looks at her, Alec included, smirking like the devil.
“Yes, honey.” He patronizes her, and the four of us bust up laughing.
“Did I miss something?” Tara leans over and asks me.
“Your parents and I just had a discussion.” I wrap my arm around her. “We’re all good now.”
“See, sis. All taken care of.” Ellie plops down onto Kayne’s lap and puts her arms around his neck. “We need to talk.”
He looks into her eyes amorously, tightening his grip. “I already know about what.”
“I figured,” she replies coquettishly.
Jess appears at the table with her eyes plastered to my arm around Tara. She curves one side of her mouth up as I hold my breath.
She just places a cocktail napkin in front of Tara and asks, “What can I get you to drink, love?”
Love. She couldn’t have picked a more appropriate term of endearment . . .
Christmas morning
Eighteen months later
I BASK IN THE SOUNDof Tara’s whimpering moans.
She’s tied to the bed, collared, clamped, and blindfolded, begging for release. Her blonde hair fans over the pillow as I hold her hips and slide slowly in and out of her. I keep a leisurely pace, taking my time bringing her higher. I know she needs this. Needs the overabundance of attention. She’s been so busy with rehearsals that we’ve barely seen each other in weeks. My little starlet is making a name for herself, landing a leading role in an off-Broadway play. I couldn’t be prouder, but I’m totally selfish and miss our time together. Not that it’s all her fault; I have my work too, which is just as demanding, but I’ve learned to balance. There’s no such thing as balance in the entertainment industry. It’s demand, demand, demand, with no other option but to give it your all. I always thought it would be my career that would be taxing on a relationship, but I guess I never met a woman who had just as much drive as I do. We’re still navigating the waters, but I know we’ll figure it out.
Tara moans louder as every move of my hips brings her closer while the clamp wreaks havoc on her body. I smooth my hands over the inside of her thighs and spread her folds so I can see her entire slit, see the inflamed little nub redden against the abrasive teeth of the metal and watch as my cock glistens with her surge of arousal.
“CJ, please.” She begs so earnestly.
“Please what, shortcake?” I toy with her.
“Harder, faster.” She breathes harshly, her muscles tightening around me like a velvet vice.
