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“Well, that guy is banned for life. He’s not coming back here,” Akim says, flagging down the bartender to order a drink again.
“Oh, but you never told me what happened to him last night. Where did he go?”
Akim makes a disinterested face. “Eh, he left after I told him I’d kick his teeth in if I ever saw him again,” he replies in a self-assured, confident manner. “I guess he didn’t want a fight.”
Even if I still liked Elliot, I have to admit that the way that Akim talks about beating him turns me on. It shouldn’t, but it does.
“That sounds like him. Always ready to fight unless he knows he’ll lose, and then he’s the biggest pussy in the world,” I reply, looking at Akim’s fresh martini as the bartender slides it over.
“Do you want another drink? It’s on me,” he asks, gesturing to the glass.
“Oh, I’m not sure. I feel like I probably shouldn’t stay too much longer,” I admit, feeling committed to my choice until I see another familiar face walk through the front door.
Elliot.
At least he’s alive, but what the hell is he doing here?
My heart pounds in my chest, and blood rushes up into my ears, but I avert my eyes, trying not to alert Akim to Elliot’s unwanted entrance. I’m not trying to cause trouble again, but how would it feel if Elliot saw me with another man so soon after he broke my heart?
Petty revenge never felt this good.
I meet Akim’s eyes with a thin smile. “Actually, yeah. I’ve had a long week. I could use another drink.”
Akim smiles back deviously. “I’ll have the bartender make you something with our finest alcohol, the kind that your ex could never afford to buy for you,” he replies. “We don’t even keep it behind the bar. He’ll have to grab it from my private stock in the back.”
I playfully tilt my head to the side as Akim nods at the bartender. I even laugh a little in the hopes that the sound of my voice will draw Elliot’s attention.
If Akim is going to use me to jerk himself off, both as a sex object and as a means of proving his immense wealth, I feel perfectly confident that I’m within my rights to do the same. Besides, it won’t even take that much to make Elliot upset. He’s insanely insecure.
The bartender brings me a drink, and even though I can still feel the residual sickness from last night’s hangover, I sip the drink diligently in the hopes that I’ll get caught drinking withanother man.
Eventually, Elliot and a small group of his friends gather around the opposite end of the bar, and I figure that this is my chance to make him see me, to really set him off.
As Akim explains the ins and outs of business ownership to me, I grab his hand gently and place it on my leg, just above my knee.
He glances at me warily but doesn’t remove his hand from my leg. Instead, he begins to stroke the inside of my leg lightly, not moving it upward but emphasizing his intent to do so.
I smile at him again, sipping my drink just a little faster than I probably should. If I’m going to give myself a reputation of being a messy drunk, I might as well live up to the hype. Is this who I am now?
Within a few minutes of Akim touching me, Elliot’s friend Jordan spots me and immediately points me out from across the bar. Part of me wonders if they came to gang up on Akim or if I’m the target. They couldn’t have known that I’d be here, so they must be after Akim.
But there’s no way they could take Akim, especially when he has three-hundred-pound bouncers at every corner of the venue.
There’s no time to dig into their intentions before Elliot looks my way. Rage flashes in his eyes as soon as he notices that I’m not only with another man, but I’m with the owner of the club who kicked him out.
At first, he tries to play it cool, but I notice that Arielle is nowhere to be found. He’s at a clear social disadvantage, and he knows it. Watching him slowly sink down in his chair at the thought of looking weak in front of his friends fills me with sick glee.
Now his friends know that he’s not the player he thought he way.
What is he going to do about it?
As Akim and I continue talking, I open my legs just a little wider, encouraging him to put his hand just a little higher up on my leg until he’s feeling the inside of my skirt.
I lean into it, playing it up as a pleasant surprise instead of an orchestrated attempt at causing a scene. To be honest, Akim’s hand in my skirt feels amazing, and I’m instantly transported back to the feeling I got from being bent over his desk with my dress hiked up.
He begins to stroke again, this time teasing his fingers along my pussy ,causing me to blush hard.
Then I hear a glass break.
