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Layla and Simone grimaced as a sense of betrayal fell upon their faces. Pretending not to notice, I sat on the sofa between my new friends. The girls helped themselves to drinks. I pulled my phone out of my pocket once again, this time seeing Ian’s name on the screen. It was a regular occurrence. First, Jenna would call me. Several minutes later, Ian would follow. And so on. They’d take turns.
The black-haired female pressed her lips to my ear. “Booty call?” The trembling in her voice tickled, sending a shiver up my spine. She took that as an invitation for more and nibbled my earlobe, causing my eyes to roll back.
I shot Ian’s call to voicemail, then slid my phone back into my pocket.
The blonde mixed a drink for me while I was distracted by her friend and a few others who had joined us. Simone kept making eye contact with me while glaring at both women with suspicion. Assuming she was only jealous, I watched her while I chugged the rest of my drink in amusement.
Dean observed in awe as the blonde ran her fingers through my hair while her friend snaked her hand under my shirt. My eyes widened. I was unsure what was happening, but also unable to stop it. I needed whatever was transpiring, and I knew it was all the drinks speaking. I felt like being reckless. I intended to make mistakes I’d regret the following day.
As the minutes continued, my brain moved in slow motion. Everything became a blur. My vision tunneled, and I felt as if I were about to pass out. Rendered unaware of my surroundings, I felt myself being guided away from the table by the two women.
We stepped outside, and a mass of flashes lit up the night, causing me to feel overwhelmed and nauseated. Stumbling a few steps, I stopped in my tracks. Peering around, I attempted to focus on anything in sight, but it was becoming more difficult.
“I think I’m going to be sick.” I choked back the vomit swelling in my chest.
“We’ll be alone soon, baby.”
Twisting to the crowd waiting in line outside the club, I grinned, giving everyone the middle finger while they filmed us. Paparazzi then swarmed me instantly, taking photos so rapidly, I was blinded by the bright lights. I tried to shield my face, but it was no use.
Knowing we were almost an hour away from my house, I spun around, searching for any means of escape. My eyes barely focused on a black limo parked by the curb. Taking the girls by the hand, I led them to the car. I yanked the back door open, ushering them inside before jumping in after them. The driver lowered the privacy window.
“Can I help you?!”
“Sorry, I just… Tom?!” I couldn’t focus well but I would’ve recognized his voice anywhere. He sounded like Kermit the Frog.
“Mr. Hardwin,” he gasped audibly, “it has been quite a while.”
The paparazzi held their cameras close to the car, calling out my name, continuously snapping photos. The girls posed through the dark, tinted windows while I made more failed efforts to shield my face.
“Drive!” I commanded.
“Mr. Hardwin, my client is inside a—”
“Go! I’ll pay you triple. I don’t care, just drive, damnit!”
“Yes, sir!” He beamed, turning to the swarm of cameras and fans in front. Laying his hand on the horn several times while revving the engine, he tried to encourage them to move.
“Where to Mr. Hardwin?” He glanced back quickly in the rear-view mirror.
“Malibu house.”
“Yes, sir.”
I rested my head on the back of the seat, exhaling a sigh of relief. The blonde got on her knees in front of me, unzipping my pants. The other placed her palm on my cheek, guiding my lips to hers. Gently, I tested the kiss, nervous to cross the line with someone other than the woman I loved.
“It’s okay,” the girl whispered, “just let yourself go.”
Her tongue forced my lips apart, and she fought with determination to dominate my mouth. Perplexed, I gave in to her, but I wasn’t about to give up control. Running my fingers through her hair, I gripped tightly, snatching her head to the side. I shoved my tongue into her mouth. As the minutes passed, I realized I’d barely spoken to them. Not that I cared, but I didn’t even know their names.
“What are your names?” I finally mumbled through the kiss before pulling away.
“I’m Cari, with an I.” The black-haired woman moaned, now pressing her lips to my neck.
The blonde peered up at me, meeting my gaze. “I’m Fiona without the F.”
Puzzled, I tilted my head. “Iona?”
“P,” she freed my cock from her grip, trying her best to appear alluring, “H.”
