The F#ck It List: The Complete Story

by Rae Lynn Blaise

  “Where are we going?” he asks.

  “Out!” I exclaim, laughing. I want to surprise him, keeping it a secret until we arrive.

  He chuckles, and in a smart move, doesn’t press me for more info.

  “You need to be extra hot tonight.”

  He snorts. “Uh…I’ll try my best. Do you have any specific requests?”

  I love how he just goes along with the flow, willing to go on any adventure with me. And I love that he’ll let me dress him, knowing how much I enjoy it. “Of course I do. Your charcoal dress pants and matching jacket, that sexy royal blue button up shirt. No tie.” That suit fits him like a damn fine glove. He’s going to look like Tom Fucking Hiddleston, and I can’t wait to see him.

  He sighs dramatically. “Fine. Are you going to tell me what we’re celebrating, at least? Clearly we’re going somewhere nice. Did you get a raise or something?” Fuck yourself out of a final?” His last question turns teasing.

  I giggle, covering my mouth and shaking my head. “I decided on my next list item. Our local celeb—Brennan Jones.”

  “I see.” His voice is no longer teasing. Instead, there’s a disappointed and resigned note tinging it.

  Too excited to ask him about it, I ignore it for now. “Well, I gotta go and get ready. Pick me up at eight!”

  I barely give him the time to say his goodbyes before I hang up and stare again in dismay at the pile of shit on my bed. After blowing out a massive breath so hard it makes my lips vibrate, I try on my last option. This dress is a shimmery gold that hugs me on top, but hangs loosely at the bottom. I’d worn it to a Halloween party when I went as I flapper once upon a time.

  Adam had been out of town and I’d gone with Scott. It had been such a great night. Looking back on it, I feel like a bit of an idiot. How did I not notice how much fun I had without Adam there? How free I felt. I’d assumed it was the mix of booze and the magic of Halloween, getting to pretend to be someone else.

  I grin at my mirror, swinging my hips so the fringe flows and sways across my legs. This is the one. Very Gatsby. Which is perfect because Brennan is absolutely the Gatsby of our town. Well, other than the whole mysterious air. Everyone knows who Brennan is. His secrets are all out in the open for everyone to see.

  The rich playboy spreading his daddy’s money all over town, dripping charm and charisma and a little bit of crazy. The rich playboy who constantly has photos on the cover of rags, a new girl at his side in each one. It shouldn’t be too hard to get into his pants. He doesn’t seem too picky. The women are all different shapes and types. But I’ll have a lot of competition tonight, a ring of women I’ll have to fight my way through. From everything I’ve heard whispered around town, it sounds like the freaking Hunger Games when it comes to getting to him. And the other items on my list were almost too easy, so it’s probably time for one to become impossible.

  I look damn sexy in this dress though, and I have a plan to attract the most eligible in town. If it doesn’t work with him, the other local celebs aren’t quite as exciting. Brennan is hot in that Colin Farrell way. Grungy and dark and a little bit dirty. And I am totally going with plenty of condoms in my purse because I do actually have an idea of where he’s been. Basically everywhere.

  Not that I have any room to judge based on the way I’ve been going. Who can blame him? Or me? It’s fun as hell, making my own way around. We were bound to meet.

  Before he became a club owner, there was his turn as a side character in a couple movies right after college. There was the widely publicized inheritance from his father that brought him back from Hollywood. There was the rapid realization that Brennan was not cut out for owning a chain of dealerships, just for driving the cars from them.

  And more often than not, crashing them.

  The gossip pages love to feature him and his incredibly popular and exclusive club, Indigo.

  And by total chance, I’d covered a morning shift at the coffee shop for a girl who cocktails there and had been slinging gin until 4am, too tired to come and make coffees right after. She’d put me on the list as a thanks.

  Score.

  22

  Scott’s eyes widen when I open the door at his knock. My own probably look the same. He is totally channeling Tom Hiddleston tonight. He looks hot as fuck.

  “You look gorgeous, love.” He doesn’t sound super happy about it.

  I smile wide at him, determined to ignore his weird mood that apparently still hasn’t worn off. “Thank you. So do you.” His pants hug him in all the right places and his blue shirt makes his eyes pop brighter than normal.

  I keep up a steady, excited chatter as I tell him how I got us on the list. “It’s like it was meant to be. All my list items have come together so damn perfectly.

  Scott gives a grunt of assent.

  I roll my eyes, still ignoring him, trying not to bounce in my seat as he pulls up to the valet station. After he tips the valet girl, I all but fall over myself to be at Scott’s side as we enter the club. I’m so excited to see the legendary Indigo.

  My breath catches once we’re inside. It’s every bit as amazing as everyone claims. The live swing band has a DJ adding deep house grooves. Tall gorgeous girls are wearing those necklaces that clearly double as cocaine holder things. Snuff necklaces? Coke necklaces? What was that thing Sarah Michelle Gellar wore in Cruel Intentions?

  Men dripping with too much money are buying Ciroc and Dom bottle service at tables draped in gauzy white fabric. Matching panels line the walls, allowing shadows of dancers who are a living part of the décor to appear.

  The club is all white, and the staff is dressed in it too. Cocktail waitresses, hostesses, even the Dj and band members are clad in all while.

  The ceiling is, as per the name of the club, is a deep indigo. As I watch, I realize the walls are slowly melting dark down to the bottom, the white being erased, morphing into pure indigo.

  I tap a passing cocktail waitress on the arm. “What’s with the walls?”

  She grins knowingly. “At midnight, the whole place becomes indigo, and the fabric goes away.”

  I nod as she smiles again and disappears into the crowd. I raise my brows at Scott. He rolls his eyes, unimpressed with the drama of the place. I’m delighted. The indigo is starting to cast deep shadows on nearby revelers, painting them in the deep purplish-blue color. It’s like magic. How the hell did they set this up? It’s so cool.

  Scott seems uncomfortable as he tugs at the collar of his shirt. “Are you sure you really want to throw yourself at a guy everyone here is going to be throwing themselves at?”

  I shrug. “That’s the thing. I imagine NOT throwing yourself at him may be the key.”

  He nods thoughtfully. “Yeah, probably.”

  I’d sort of gotten the idea from Scott. The way he got the Professor a little more interested. Guys are simple. They really don’t like feeling like they’re losing a competition. They also really don’t like being ignored.

  That’s when Brennan comes out, master of the ceremonies for his little circus, and starts the champagne fountain. He wanders through the crowd, handing out glasses to girls who catch his eye. I sneak glances at him, trying not to be obvious as Scott and I sip our cocktails.

  Brennan is good-looking in person, but not movie star hot. Probably why he never got all that far in Hollywood. Girls flutter around him like butterflies at a rosebush. He’s surprisingly selective in the glasses he hands out, all charm and smug smiles.

  Scott and I set our empty glasses on a passing tray and join the tons of people on the dance floor. He seems a little more relaxed after having a couple drinks. I smile up at him as he slides his hands around my waist and I wrap mine around his neck.

  “This place is pretty insane.”

  He looks around the club, his eyes taking it all in. “It is that.”

  Slashes of indigo stain his face as we sway to the slow song. He looks good in that color. Who am I kidding? He looks good in every color.

&nb
sp; The slow music changes to a high energy swing song, the DJ making it his own with a modern beat thrown in. With a grin, Scott spins me around and we throw ourselves into the dance. My reasons for being here fall away. Thoughts of Brennan falls away. Everything falls away except Scott’s hand in mine. His blue eyes blazing at me. The now indigo color of his suit. The brush of his fingers at my bare back. The dizziness as I spin and spin and spin.

  My mouth aches from the laughter I can’t control and the wide grin stamped across my face. The magic of the club infuses us, and it’s hard to break away and come back to ourselves.

  We change partners a couple times, always coming back to each other with a crash. My dress swirls around my legs, glittering in the lights, flashing gold and indigo over Scott as he lifts me into the air.

  We finally take a break once breathing gets a little hard and we’re both sticky with sweat. Scott grabs us drinks from a passing tray and we sit at a corner high table.

  The dance floor looks like a strange version of the twenties and thirties. A sort of time warp as the dresses the women wear flare up, showing off their legs. Champagne flows and bodies merge together and music pumps and writhes through the club.

  A woman approaches Scott with a Cheshire cat smile, leading him back to the dancers. He doesn’t even look back. I shove away the pang as I watch them go. Why would it bother me? I’m here to hook up with someone else. Better for him if he actually gets something out of it. I’m determined to be happy for him.

  Refusing to watch him, I turn my attention to the band. They’re really good. And the lead singer is pretty hot too. Could he be considered a celebrity? If Brennan doesn’t work out, he looks like fun.

  Speak of the devil.

  Brennan slinks across the floor in a white suit with indigo cuffs, and a gold tie. “We match.” He hands me a glass a champagne.

  “Glad you got the memo.” I take the glass and sip it, keeping my expression cool and uninterested.

  He’s clearly thrown by my response, which is just what I wanted. It’s hard keeping the glee from my face. He spends the next ten minutes circling while I finish off the drink and watch the live band, bobbing along to the beat.

  Scott walks up behind me and wraps his arms around my middle, pressing a kiss at the back of my ear. I shiver at his touch, though I’m not sure this is the best idea considering I’m trying to hook up with another dude. But I let him pull me onto the dance floor anyway, and we move super close together like we’re horny teens at our first school dance. There’s a different electric charge moving between our bodies from our earlier dancing. We’re closer, our bodies all but plastered against each other.

  “What happened to the girl you were dancing with?” I raise a brow, forcing a teasing tone into my voice.

  He shrugs. “Not what I’m looking for.”

  “What are you looking for?” I frown in confusion. She was hot. And hot for him from what I saw.

  “Not her.” He presses his lips into a grim line.

  I decide not to press him. Something I’ve been doing more and more lately. I don’t know if it’s because I’m worried about getting into another fight and messing things up between us or if it’s because I’m so focused on my list, I don’t have time to deal with his drama. I hope it’s the former, because otherwise I’m a selfish bitch. But part of me is worried I’ve been a shitty friend to him, bringing him along for the ride like this. If he was a girl, it would be different, but there is an added awkwardness to my best friend being a guy. No matter how close we are and how much we share. Especially since we added sex to our friendship.

  He runs his hands up and down my back, dipping lower each time until he all but cups my ass. I consider telling him to stop, but every time his pelvis brushes against mine, I bite my lip. Besides, it worked on the professor. And he smells so damn good.

  Suddenly, Brennan is back at my side, pausing our dance. “Do you guys maybe BOTH want to get out of here?”

  Well, shit. The local celebrity just turned into the threesome.

  Score.

  23

  Scott and I glance at each other in shock. A smile spreads across my lips and I raise my brows in question. He heaves a sigh and jerks a nod at me in response. I bite my lip, not wanting to force him into a position that makes him feel uncomfortable, but I see desire flare in his bright blue eyes. Ok, he’s up for it. Excellent.

  Confident, I turn back to Brennan. “Sure.”

  He leads us through the crowd of disappointed and envious girls to a hidden and private elevator through a door at the back of the main part of the club. He uses a key card to get the doors open and to get to the penthouse suite at the top of the building.

  Fancy.

  Scott and I exchange more raised brows behind Brennan’s back. I fight back a hysterical giggle, unable to believe what’s about to happen. What I’m about to do. What I’m about to do with Scott and our modern Gatsby. This is insane.

  The elevator finally arrives on the top floor, relieving some of the tension in the small space. The doors open to reveal a room decorated almost exactly like the club. All white, gold, and indigo. I can’t decide if it’s charming or ridiculous and narcissistic. Possibly all three at the same time.

  Based on the snort escaping Scott, I know which one he thinks it is. I avoid his eyes, not wanting to break into laughter and ruin the mood.

  Suddenly, the force of two hot men’s eyes are trained on me. I gulp and dart my eyes back and forth between them, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do. It’s not like I’ve had any experience with this before other than my fantasies. And all my fantasies began in the middle, not the awkward beginning.

  Thankfully, Brennan seems to have no problem getting the party started. He meets me in the middle of the room and cups my jaw, bringing his mouth down to mine. His lips are soft and taste of his expensive champagne. I raise my hands to the lapels of his suit, fisting them and pulling him against me harder. The floor vibrates in an altogether pleasing way from the thump of the bass downstairs.

  Scott doesn’t take long to join us, pulling me away from Brennan, and into a dizzying kiss. Four hands brush and glide along my skin—up my arms, across my back, down my neck. Their hands are everywhere.

  Brennan takes me back into his arms, Scott letting me go with reluctance.

  I feel Scott come up behind me, his hands gliding up the sides of my thighs through the fringe until they rest on my hips. His lips kiss and nip along the sides and back of my neck as Brennan plunders my mouth. My body starts to tremble as they sandwich me between them. Lines of fire sweep up and down and through me with each touch. I’m a live-wire bursting with energy and volts, so close to exploding, to turning into nothing but flames.

  They switch positions somehow, without a word spoken between them. Is there some set of instructions I didn’t get? A manual I haven’t read? Something that explains how the hell to act in the middle of a threesome?

  Apparently, my role is basically to just take it. Which I’m perfectly okay with.

  Scott’s mouth descends to mine and I’m wrapped in familiarity. His lips know just the way I love being kissed, my body snuggles into his like a missing puzzle piece. I wind my arms around his neck, pressing my tits into his chest, my hard and aching nipples rubbing against him.

  Brennan raises the skirt of my dress up, his fingers grazing the inside of my thighs and gliding over the globes of my ass. Scott reaches behind me and slides the zipper down on my dress to the middle of my back. Brennan finishes the job when he realizes Scott can’t reach any farther. The dress doesn’t slip to the floor like it would in a movie since the straps are still on my shoulders, but it definitely gives them both better access.

  Their hands and lips are everywhere, growing more frenzied. I’m barely able to remain standing, I shake so hard and my knees become so weak.

  Both sets of their teeth nibble at the sides of my neck and up to my ears. Scott’s hands dip into the front of the bodice of my dress an
d he tweaks my nipples. I suck in a hard breath and lean back against Brennan, needing some anchor against the assault on my senses. With hands on my tits and hands on my thighs and ass, I am almost overcome, verging on a full on swoon.

  They guide me over to and through a door into a room showcasing Brennan’s ridiculously massive bed. Apparently, he enjoys multiple partners in his bed. No judgments from me. I’m really starting to see the draw.

  They peel the dress from me, leaving me clad in only my indigo thong and heels. Brennan chuckles smugly when he sees the color of my panties. I smile at him before I kiss Scott again. Brennan kneels down at my feet and begins to worship each one of my legs with his mouth. He trails nips and kisses and licks up and down the sensitive backs of my calves and thighs, coming teasingly close to my core, but never close enough. Scott palms my boobs and leans down to take my nipples in his mouth, flicking at them and swirling around them with his tongue. My fingers dig into Scott’s skin and I toss my head back, staring at the indigo ceiling.

  Just as I’m certain I’ll collapse, Scott lifts me onto the bed, he and Brennan crawling on either side of me. I kick off my heels and they land somewhere with the rest of my clothes. They each take a nipple into their mouths, sucking until I arch off the bed and dig my fingers into the gold comforter.

  Scott releases my tit, and kisses me again, his tongue plunging deep into my open mouth. I return his kiss with enthusiasm, letting go of the blanket and digging my fingers into his hair, sliding our tongues together, sucking at his bottom lip. Brennan continues tonguing my nipple, and plucks at the other with his fingers. I moan into Scott’s mouth and he kisses me harder, possessively, claiming me.

  Brennan nudges him out of the way, and they switch places. Brennan’s kiss is skillful, soft but confident. None of the passion of Scott, but hot nonetheless.

  Brennan leaves my mouth and two sets of lips kiss me all over. I can’t keep my eyes open and keep track of who’s touching what part of me. Every single one of my muscles tighten and my breaths come faster and faster with each moment of bliss.