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“And I think he’s finally getting into me.”
Chase makes it to the end of the driveway and turns onto the street to head home. “Where you guys meeting up?”
I stare at Chase. “You should take the night off. I mean, you don’t want to sit in a car for hours again waiting for me.”
“As long as there’s cell service, I’m good. There’s an entire season ofQueer Eyefor me to catch up on.”
I frown. Do I tell Chase about the kidnapping plan? I probably have to, otherwise he might think it’s real. But I really don’t want Chase to be around when it happens. Or maybe I do?
Jack’s words echo in my head:It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt.
I can’t rule out that won’t happen. There were a few times with the breath play tonight when I genuinely started to worry. If Jack hadn’t released me when he did, I would have been in full panic. So maybe having Chase there wouldn’t be a bad idea. I’d have him hide in the background so that his presence won’t dampen the mood.
Hugging myself, I can hardly wait for tomorrow night. What I want to do right now is march back into Jack’s house and have him get me off. He left me high and dry—correction, wet—and now I’m sitting in squishy underwear. The next twenty-four hours are going to be sooooo long, especially if I can’t masturbate. That part is pure evil. Especially given how thirsty I am for him, which I suspect he knows.
I want to know more about him, but it’s hard to get past the electricity between us. All I know is he’s got bank, is nice to stray cats, and is hella good in bed. So to speak. We haven’t actually done it in a bed. A bed’s too boring.
When we get back home, I enter the house quietly. It shouldn’t be a big deal. I’m twenty-one years old, not sixteen. But my dad doesn’t treat me like a grown adult.
I pass by his office on the way to my bedroom and fully expect him to come out and ask me where I’ve been, then frown when I tell him I haven’t been with Kenton. But it sounds like my dad is on a call. I hear what sounds like an Asian language, maybe Japanese or Korean, and then someone speaking English with an accent.
“It’s authentic,” I hear my dad replying. “And I’m not entertaining extensions. I need to unload this as soon as possible. That’s how you know I’m not playing around. Otherwise, I would hold out longer for more money.”
Not wanting to know more, I hurry to my bedroom. The best thing about college is that, while I’m at Notre Dame, I can forget about my dad. I still can’t believe he wants me to marry Kenton Brady just so he can solidify his “business” with Kenton’s father. A cliché mafia marriage. As if we live in feudal times.
I decide to take a shower, and it’ssohard not to take the showerhead and run the water against my pussy. It’s crazy how horny I feel. How am I going to last until tomorrow?
As I lay in bed, I reflect on my good fortune. I didn’t have high expectations of my twenty-first birthday being anything special. It’s not like I haven’t had alcohol prior to turning twenty-one. I’ve even purchased alcohol before, thanks to the fake ID I got from one of my dad’s contacts, which also got me into the casinos at Vegas, so I’ve done that too. For my birthday, my mom got me a spa package at the Sonoma Mission Inn and Spa as my birthday present, but it’s really a gift best suited for her. And my dad thinks he got me the ultimate gift in a husband-to-be.
But Jack. Jack is special. And the best birthday gift I could ever hope for. I love his hard body, strong grip, and smooth skin. That would be enough for most women, but on top of that, he’s incredible at BDSM.
Releasing a sigh, I hug my pillow. I actually feel tired and allow myself to drift to sleep.
When I wake up the following morning, the first thing I think about is Jack. I check my phone. There’s no text or missed call from him. What if he changes his mind? If he does, I’m not going to wait to hit the slopes. If I go alone, I go alone. I have so much pent-up sexual energy, no amount of time with my vibrator will settle me. Only a hard day on the mountain might.
Laying in bed, I replay last night in my mind. I’m a little sore between the legs from the pounding. If I keep up with Jack, the soreness may never go away. At least, until we stop seeing each other. Winter break feels so short. I have to make the most of my opportunity to be with him.
Just as my hand starts to wander below my belly, a knock at the door startles me.
“Casey.”
It’s my dad.
“Yeah?” I reply.
“Kenton’s parents are thinking to host a dinner tonight and wanted to know if we’re available.”
Jack told me not to go anywhere, though he wouldn’t know if I did. Still, since I don’t know when Jack wants to meet up with me, I don’t want to take the chance.
“Can we do another night?” I ask. “I’m not feeling so great.”
“It’s still early in the day. You might feel better later.”
“Why don’t we do it tomorrow?”
“What if you feel worse tomorrow?”
Ugh. Despite what my dad thinks, a dinner with Kenton isn’t going to change my mind about marrying him.
