by Zoe Norman
“How you holding up, handsome?” a female voice calls to me. I lift my head up from the back of the couch and focus in on Whitney, our cocktail server—only now there are two Whitneys. She’s been great all night. Very attentive. Very pretty to look at. I just wanna motorboat those luscious titties…
“Owen?” the two Whitneys ask.
“Hmm? Oh, right. Yeah, we’re all doing great, Whit. You’ve succeeded at getting us drunk. Now we’re all vulnerable and drunk and shit. You’re not going to take advantage of us are you?” I joke.
Whitney smirks and silently steps around the couches to grip the stripper pole behind us. She takes a spin around the pole and leans her back against it. While spreading her legs wide, she looks me in the eye. Slowly she bends over to run her hands up her shins, past her knees and up her thighs. She grabs the tight material of her dress and pulls it up higher, teasing me. Marc and Travis have stopped jabbering and are watching Whitney intensely as she starts to dance seductively for us.
“I’ll be honest with you, Owen,” she calls to me from the pole with a breathy voice. “I’d very much like to take advantage of you. Or more like, you can take advantage of me.” Whitney stops dancing and deliberately walks toward me. She stands between my legs and leans down to whisper loudly into my ear, “I’d do anything you want.” Her tongue traces the curve of my ear and I close my eyes at the sensation. A shiver of excitement runs through me.
I open my eyes and see Travis and Marc staring at us. Their eyes dart from Whitney to me repeatedly as if their anxiously awaiting the next move. Whitney hikes up her already short dress and straddles my lap. I can feel her heat against my crotch as she places her hands on my shoulders and begins to grind on me. As her hips undulate to the rhythm of the music, I drunkenly place my hands on her smooth thighs and slide them up to grip her waist. My eyes become hooded as I enjoy the combination of the alcohol and the stimulation.
“Invite me back to your room. Your friends can watch…or participate, whatever you want,” Whitney whispers hotly into my ear.
My eyes flash open wide with the stark realization that this has gotten completely out of hand. At the same time, there’s a blaze of light and I quickly turn my head away from the offending brightness. Travis looks at his phone and smiles. Satisfied with what he sees, he raises his arm and aims it at me. Whitney smashes her cheek against mine and turns toward Travis. There is another flash of light and now there are spots in my vision. The motherfucker is taking pictures!
“Okey dokey…that’s enough,” I say while simultaneously pushing Whitney off my lap and onto the couch. “I’m flattered that you want some O, but I’m not your guy. I have a bea-utiful woman at home and I am not fucking that up.”
Whitney huffs and stands up from the couch. She straightens her dress and brushes the hair from her eyes. “Fine. Whatever. Your loss,” she sulks and walks away from our VIP section.
Twenty minutes later, a different cocktail server brings us our tab to close out our account. Marc and I pay, splitting the massive bill, gather our people and opt to take a cab back to our hotel rather than wait for the limo.
This is the third time someone’s phone has rang this morning. Whoever is calling is adamant about getting through to one of the guys. With this headache, I’m about to go on the hunt for the phone and throw the damn thing out the fucking window.
“Will you please answer your fucking phone!” I yell from my room. I’m sprawled out diagonally across the plush king size bed. I have one sock on and I’m still in my button down shirt from last night. My pants are missing, but my boxer briefs are on and in place.
I hear some groans and murmuring outside my room, but the pounding in my head drowns out any coherent sentences. The voice gets louder and clearer as Alex enters the open door of my room with a phone to his ear.
“Yeah he’s here,” he says groggily. “In his bed? No, there’s no one in his bed. Sure, hold on.” Alex holds out the phone to me with closed eyes. “It’s for you.”
I lift my head from the bed but it feels like it weighs one hundred pounds. Then and there I make a silent vow never to drink this much again…at least for the duration of this bachelor party weekend. I’m too old for this shit. Taking the phone from Alex’s hand, I realize it’s my own phone and put it to my ear. “This better be important. I was sleeping,” I say gruffly.
“I think this warrants a wake up call, yes.” The voice on the other end is familiar, albeit a tad put out.
“Oh, hi baby. How’s my girl?” I yawn and stretch my free arm over my head and itch my scalp.
“Have fun last night?” Olivia asks coolly.
“Yeah. Pretty epic night. Went to a club called XS…crazy people watching. Some pro football players were at a VIP booth across from us and I guess some reality star was there too, but I didn’t recognize—”
“Anything else happen last night? Nothing else you’d like to tell me?” Olivia’s voice changes and she sounds like she’s on the verge of chewing me out.
“Huh? What do you mean? Wait, why were you asking Alex if I was alone in bed?” I sit up straight on the disheveled mattress and the fog in my brain starts to dissipate. “Don’t tell me you thought I would bring someone back here last night? You know me better than that, Olivia. I thought we were past this…” I’m starting to get upset; I can hear it in my voice. Just when I thought she and I were finally moving past the trust issues, it rears its ugly head again.
“From what I’ve seen, things look suspicious.” Her voice is now cold.
“From what you’ve seen? What exactly have you seen? Where?”
“Facebook. Travis posted a couple pictures of you last night with a hot blonde chick grinding on you and then another one of her posing with you. Her boobs were all up in your face.”
“Facebook? Travis posted pictures to Facebook?” I’m seething, but trying to keep my voice calm.
“Yeah, he tagged all of you guys in the picture. There were others too—like the same blonde chick dancing on a pole. Did that happen? Did you guys go to a strip club? I’d be fine if you did, but I just want you to tell me…”
I sigh heavily. Travis is a fucking idiot. “All of it happened…only we didn’t go to a strip club. The blonde was our cocktail server. She got a little handsy and flirty, but nothing happened.”
“But she was grinding on your lap, Owen…”
“I was drunk and—”
“That’s—”
“That’s no excuse,” I say, cutting her off. “I realize that. She was on my lap for a minute and then she wasn’t. End of story.”
“Your eyes were closed when the blond was on your lap and your hands were all over her. You looked like you were enjoying it just fine,” Olivia snaps.
“It’s nothing like you think, Olivia,” I say in an attempt to calm her down.
There’s silence on the other end of the phone and it’s starting to make me nervous. “Olivia? Do you believe me? I’d be happy to put you on the phone with Marc or Travis who will tell you I pushed her off my lap and told her that I had a beautiful woman back home and wasn’t about to fuck things up.”
“You’ve embarrassed me, Owen. Those pictures are out there for all our friends…my family…to see. You’ve done a pretty good job of dissuading people that believed you’ve changed.” I can hear the sadness in her voice and it crushes me.
“Baby, it’s pretty simple; either you trust me, or you don’t. What happened…or better yet, what didn’t happen last night is proof that I am no longer the guy who I was before I met you. Olivia, do you believe me? Because that’s all I really care about. I don’t give a fuck about what our friends and family believe.” I plead.
There is a pause. A very, very long pause.
“I believe you,” Olivia murmurs quietly. “I’m just tired of feeling like I’m going to lose you to a firehouse groupie or…now a cocktail waitress in Vegas. It makes me feel inadequate and like I’m not enough for you.”
“Olivia, bab
y, please get those crazy thoughts out of your head. You’re more than enough for me. So much so, I feel like I don’t deserve you. I love you…only you. I’m not who I was before. I’m better…so much better and that’s all because of you.”
“I love you too.” Olivia exhales loudly, seemingly satisfied and reassured. “What are you guys doing tonight? More of the same?”
“Once I kick Travis’s ass, we’re going golfing and then out to a nice dinner tonight. Then tomorrow, I’m on my way back to you.”
“Okay. Good.”
“I’ll talk to you later today, okay baby?”
“Okay. I love you, Owen.”
“Love you too, sunshine. Bye.” I hang up the phone and stare at it in my hand, plotting my revenge on Travis.
THERE ARE A FEW moments in life you never expect to witness—like seeing a baby being born, a celebrity robbing your bank, or digging in your backyard and finding a coffee tin with gold boullion inside. But that’s just where I find myself. My best friend, Travis, is getting married in a few days. Married! This is the same asshole who came in his pants the first time Becca Montgomery kissed him in seventh grade. The same guy who was caught by campus police climbing down the lattice of the Chi Omega fraternity house at the University of Washington at three a.m. The same guy I rode bikes with around the neighborhood when we were kids—putting on mile after mile, making our legs week from exhaustion. The same guy who was at my door forty-eight hours after my dad passed away from cancer. Travis is my brother from another mother, and the fucker is getting tying the knot.
Both my mother and Olivia spent the night at my place in preparation for our flight out to Seattle today. On my growing list of things I’m learning about my Olivia is that she gets very horny when she knows other people, namely family, are around and in earshot. I found that out last night. You’re not hearing me complain though. Taking her from behind and covering her mouth with my hand to muffle her screams as I pounded into her was the perfect way to stave off any anxiety nightmares for me and we both slept like the dead.
I’ve successfully managed to get both women out of my apartment and to JFK airport in a timely fashion. If I was able to do that, this weekend should go off without a hitch. On the ride to the airport, I told my mom that I had upgraded her seat to join Olivia and me in first class. She, of course, was very grateful for the surprise and is currently enjoying a mimosa with Olivia at the bar inside the United Club Lounge. I watch the women interact and laugh as they continue to get to know each other.
Checking my watch, I realize that our plane will be boarding in ten minutes. I save the speech I’m working on for Travis’s wedding on my MacBook and pack the laptop away before heading over to my favorite women.
“Ladies.”
Wordlessly, they both know that it’s time for us to leave, so they down the last of their drinks. I leave a generous tip for the bartender and gather all of our bags as we walk toward our departure gate.
A few moments after we arrived at the gate, our seating section is called and we stride down the gangway to settle in for our six-hour flight. Olivia helps my mom get situated and shows her the various functions of the first-class seat while I stow our bags. As I close the overhead bin, Olivia slides into our row and takes the luxurious, leather seat by the window. She pulls her Kindle out of her purse and puts it in the seat pocket before tucking her bag under the seat in front of her.
When we’ve both ordered a beverage, I take hold of Olivia’s hand. “Remember the last time we did this?”
Olivia bites her lower lip and nods.
“What were you thinking when I took my seat next to yours that night?” I ask.
She laughs softly. “I was thinking, What the hell is my luck that the guy from the bar is sitting next to me! I mean, seriously. What were the odds?”
I look at her, slightly wounded. She wasn’t excited?
Seeing my expression, she leans forward and kisses me on my check, breathing into my neck. “I was thinking, Keep it together, Olivia. This guy is gorgeous. What were you thinking?”
I tilt my head and kiss her just under her ear, hitting one of her more sensitive spots. I know I found it when I feel her shiver. “I was thinking, Don’t fuck this up, Maxwell and wondering how I was going to get your panties off as my souvenir. I got close, but not all the way. Perhaps we can rectify that today,” I say, continuing to nuzzle her neck.
I put my hand on her knee and give the bare flesh a squeeze. “Thanks for wearing a dress like I asked, by the way. That plays very nicely into my plan. I’m dying to know what you’re wearing under there. Are you wearing the white thong I love? Or maybe the black one? Or maybe you’re not wearing anything at all.” I slowly move my hand up her thigh and under her skirt to inspect for myself, but Olivia grabs my wrist and playfully shoves it away.
“You are awful. You know that?” she says impishly.
I smile broadly. “Hey, I’m a warm-blooded man. Can you blame me? I know what I need, and I need you.” My nose traces the outline of her ear as I whisper loudly, “Plus, you look edible and you owe me a romp in the bathroom.”
Olivia’s eyebrows shoot up. “I ‘owe’ you? Are you kidding me right now?” she asks as I continue to snuggle into her neck. “Your mother is three rows ahead of us, Owen!”
I lean back and turn in my seat to face her. “This coming from the same woman who attacked me last night after I got out of the shower. The very same woman who ripped the towel from my waist, got down on her knees, and started sucking me off.” I bend down toward her once again. “Baby, you have a fucking fantastic mouth. Have I told you that lately? The way you tease me and swallow—”
“Shh! You’ve made your point, Owen,” she interrupts.
I sit upright in my seat, facing forward, satisfied that I’ve won this round.
While the plane taxies and takes off, Olivia grips my hand tight. I forgot that she’s not a great flier, so I try to distract her with more sexy talk, but she’s not having it. Instead, I switch topics and we talk about the weekend events for Travis and Lucy’s wedding. We discuss the rehearsal dinner that will take place tonight and the delivery of my suit for the ceremony. After the plane has reached cruising altitude and the flight attendants have rattled off their various beverage choices and snack box options, the captain makes the announcement that it’s safe to move about the cabin. Remembering my mission, I turn my head, raising and lowering my eyebrows at Olivia.
I twist to my side and whisper into Olivia’s ear, “I’m going to the bathroom. I’d appreciate it if you would join me.”
As I unlatch my seatbelt, Olivia grips my forearm, pinning it to the armrest. “You can’t be serious about this, Owen,” she whispers back through clenched teeth.
I simply smile, stand swiftly from my seat, and give Olivia a wink before I make my way down the narrow aisle. I choose to use the lavatory at the back of the plane, which is the opposite direction from my mother. The more I can spare her, the better.
Since it’s early in the flight, the demand for the restroom is low and I have my choice of two open stalls. I choose the one on my left and go inside, leaving the door unlocked in the hopes that Olivia will have enough courage to meet me and slightly apprehensive knowing that, since the door is unlocked, the chances of someone walking in on me are pretty good.
When I left Olivia, her cheeks were flushed and her mouth was gaping. Oh, that mouth. That sweet, perfect, magically delicious mouth. I swing my head from side to side as I look at myself in the mirror and fiddle with my hair. I’m not entirely confident that Olivia will even show up. She’s daring, but this may be a little too much, even for her.
Two minutes pass and no Olivia. I sit on the closed toilet seat and wait, wondering if I should just give up and wait to claim Olivia again once we’re in Seattle.
“Owen?” I hear Olivia whisper loudly followed by a knock, but the knock isn’t on my door. “Owen!” she repeats. “Oh! Excuse me.”
I stifle a laugh, kno
wing that, of the two options for which bathroom I was in, she chose the wrong one. Olivia pushes on the opposite lavatory door and finds me with my elbows on my knees and the biggest smile on my face.
“Took you long enough,” I say as I pull her inside by her wrist.
Exasperated, Olivia puts her hands on her hips. “Oh, sure. You’re not the one who just walked into the guy from coach who clearly had a meal that didn’t agree with him.” She pinches her nose and makes a dramatic stinky face.
I cannot help but laugh. I reach up and wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her between my open legs. I bury my face in her stomach and hold her close to me, breathing her in. As Olivia runs her fingers through my hair, I feel slightly overwhelmed at how I got so lucky as to have this sexy, adventurous woman love me.
I pull back a bit and tilt my head to look up at her. “You’re beautiful. You know that?”
“Thank you,” she responds, blushing at my compliment.
“And you’re mine,” I declare, rising from my sitting position and quickly trapping her against the cramped bathroom wall with my hips. Absently, I reach to my side and lock us inside the small room and everyone else out. “Say it, Olivia,” I command.
“Yours,” she exhales, her eyes darting across my face. Desire and need are written across her gorgeous face.
I kiss her forehead before bending to nibble on her neck. “Mine. Always and forever, mine.”
I breathe against her skin as I glide my hands up from her thighs, grab the material of her dress, and quickly release it, letting it float back against her body. My hands continue to move up her sides until they are under her arms. I lift her up, kissing her lips as I maneuver her around the close quarters and turn our bodies so Olivia is standing against the sink.
“First, I want to see what you have under that skirt because it’s been driving me crazy since you came out of our bedroom this morning.” Our bedroom? What? Did she catch that?
