by Claire Adams
“One more, please.”
The bartender smirked at me, and I almost said something but stopped myself. It wasn’t his fault my ex-husband was a bastard.
“You might as well pour a few more,” I said. “It’s going to be a long night.”
* * *
A half-hour later, I’d lost track of how many drinks I’d had. I’d gone way past delightfully drunk to wonderfully wasted. I didn’t normally like to drink so much, but my ex-husband’s appearance at the party with the woman on his arm had struck me to my core. But I wasn’t gone enough to not have some sense of self-preservation. I wandered the party now, sticking close to the walls and avoiding talking to anyone.
I could fake being sober when I walked, but I doubt I could convince anyone if I opened my mouth. At this point, I was probably sweating champagne.
Maybe, just maybe, if I hadn’t replaced most of my blood with champagne, I would have been smart enough to find a bedroom and collapse and sleep it off. Instead, I decided I needed to find some trouble. Bless my heart.
I wasn’t even sure what sort of trouble I was looking for. Just the idea of letting go completely really seemed good then.
I’d slipped into Mama’s huge dining room where a dozen people chatted away, drinks in hand.
A waiter held a tray of champagne. I thought about grabbing yet another glass, but someone else caught my eye. Logan Hawkins.
Shaking my head, I tried to concentrate on the man across the room. It couldn’t be him, right? At least that’s what my drunken mind kept trying to tell me. The little sober part still left reminded me that Logan’s mother swam in all the same social circles as my mother. It was why we ended up together on our sad, little half-date after all.
Sure, I’d not run into Logan at an event like this before, but it was like he said, age difference, and after that, the fact that both of us probably had been busy doing whatever. It didn’t matter. The handsome man now stood across from me in Mama’s house.
Logan chatted away with a friend of Mama’s. He glanced my way and then waved with a smile. Ever the polite society boy. I mean, I basically ran out on our date. If our positions were reversed, I didn’t know if I could be so nice.
When I saw him at the café, I’d already thought he was handsome. Now, though, in his tux, he was painfully handsome. Unlike Lionel, his smile seemed natural and not forced, even if a bit mischievous. He wasn’t some business-obsessed mama’s boy, but a hot man. A hot, unattached man. Just like I was an unattached woman.
Something about how calm he looked bothered me. I couldn’t put my finger on it. At least I couldn’t while drunk on champagne. He was too buttoned-down. I decided to show him a little fun.
Grinning to myself, I swayed slightly, the booze making it hard to stand without trouble. I waited patiently while he finished chatting with Mama’s friend. When she finally walked away, I strode straight toward him.
“Good evening, Emily,” he said.
I grabbed his hand and pulled him with me. His eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything. I resisted the urge to giggle.
A huge potted ficus sat in a small darkened antechamber off the main room. Mama loved that plant if only because Daddy had bought it for her a few years back for her during her brief gardening phase.
I finished pulling Logan halfway behind the ficus.
“What’s wrong, Emily?” Logan said.
It was time for some fun. I planted my mouth on his.
Chapter Six
LOGAN
I parted Emily’s lips with my tongue, eagerly seeking hers. Sweet champagne. I could taste it in her mouth. The thought about how much she might have drunk entered my head for a second before being pushed out by something far more primal.
It wasn’t like I hadn’t had more than a few glasses myself. It wasn’t alcohol, though, that made me invade her mouth. The woman was damn beautiful.
Our tongues prodded, probed, and warred, both seeking dominance and pleasure at the same time. She pushed against me, her soft breasts flattening against my chest. My only regret was that I had too many layers of clothes between my chest and those glorious mounds. I would have loved to feel her skin brushing against mine. Though, even through her dress and my tux, I could feel her hardened peaks.
I couldn’t stop imagining what it’d feel like if I could have my mouth on one of those breasts. The thought turned my dick to stone. I wondered if she could feel my hardness. I should have been embarrassed, but I didn’t care. Maybe I should have tried kissing her at the café.
She moaned quietly into my mouth, and I skimmed her sides with my hands, only barely resisting the urge to cup her ass. Even though the kiss was consuming most of my thoughts, I didn’t forget that there were still other people nearby. Going further with this could result in a minor scandal.
I couldn’t help it. Thoughts of what it’d be like to straddle her on a bed filled my mind. Too long. It’d been far too long since I’d been with a woman, let alone a woman like Emily.
When I’d spotted her when she first entered the room, it was like she’d stepped out of a dream. The prim and proper boring woman from the café had vanished, replaced by an alluring vixen. Her low-cut black dress clung to her curves, highlighting every delicious one and showcasing both her ample chest and her hourglass figure.
Seeing her in that dress, I realized she wasn’t just beautiful; she was damn sexy. I’d regretted letting her walk away so easily at lunch, but now I’d been given a second chance.
My tongue continued to twine with hers, and she pulled away.
Damn it. What was going on?
The sudden absence of her tongue in my mouth left me hungry for more, but it also gave my brain a chance to catch up and try and take command of the situation. I shouldn’t be all but dry humping a woman with my tongue shoved down her throat in the corner of a room with people just yards away.
I stared into her hazel eyes. There was lust there, sure. But something else? I wasn’t sure. If I didn’t know better, I would have said it was amusement.
When we’d met for the Thursday lunch, I’d thought she was a pretty and pleasant enough, if a tad on the boring side, but now she’d kissed me with such passion in the middle of her mother’s party. I didn’t know exactly what that meant about her, but it forced me to reevaluate my opinion of her.
She’d been in such a hurry to run off at the café, I’d become convinced she wasn’t interested in me. The kiss changed all of that. Sure, the taste of champagne in my mouth suggested a little liquid courage might have been helping, but it didn’t change the fact this proved she was attracted to me.
Emily’s breathing remained ragged and her cheeks pink, but I wasn’t sure if that was from alcohol or from our kissing. She glanced around. I did the same. No one seemed to be looking our way, and the position of our corner in the antechamber actually blocked most people’s line of sight.
I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed. It’s not like I made a habit of sticking my tongue down women’s throats at society parties, even beautiful women in sexy dresses.
“Do you think he saw?” Emily said, a big smile on her face, her lips still swollen from the kiss, and her lipstick smeared.
I resisted the urge to push her up against the wall and part her lips again. I wasn’t sure why she was having such an effect on me. I’d never done something like this in public before, but I refused to regret it. Still, I needed to figure out what was going on in her head.
“Who are you talking about?” I glanced over my shoulder, looking for a man, but didn’t spot anyone who might have been able to spot our little tryst. “Did you see someone?”
“I was too busy kissing you to look around.” She giggled.
I let out a snigger. “Who were you expecting?”
“Lionel,” she said, her voice breathy.
I didn’t know a lot about her, but I did know that was her ex-husband. My mother had taken care great pains to fill me in on the guy’s infidelity. I
had no respect for the man. My parents were married over fifty years before my father’s death, and he’d never had an affair.
I’d spotted Lionel earlier at the party. That is to say, my mother pointed him out so she could gossip about him and run him down.
Some girl way too young for him was hanging on his arm. Maybe I was biased because of my interest in Emily, but when I looked at him, he practically sweated dishonesty. In my defense, I’ve been damn successful in business, and I didn’t get that way by letting other people trick me.
“Your ex?” I said, just to be sure.
“Yeah, my ex,” she said, slurring her words slightly. “That cheating son of a bitch.”
I stuck my head into the main room. A quick survey of the room revealed mostly older women, no ex-husbands or their dates.
Was I little a bit disappointed that she’d kissed me to get back at her ex?
Honestly, no. Who cared? I still got to kiss a beautiful woman, and I learned that Emily wasn’t maybe the boring and too busy woman I’d thought. The kiss had ignited something deep in me, and now I wanted to know more about this woman I’d been so ready to brush off a day before.
I chuckled to myself. Yes. I was officially interested in her.
“What’s so funny?” she said. “Did you see him or not?”
“I’m sure he saw,” I said. Maybe I’d had too many glasses of champagne myself. “Maybe he ran away after realizing what he’d lost.”
Emily nodded quickly. “I hope so.” She tilted her head. “Did you like it?” Her words sounded even more slurred than before.
“Definitely.”
“I’m sorry about the other day,” she said, looking down. “I… well, it doesn’t matter because you are fantastic at kissing.”
I chuckled quietly and bowed. “I live to serve.”
I wrapped my arms around her waist. She closed her eyes as I pulled her forward and parted her lips again with my tongue.
It was a slow invasion this time, rather than the desperate ambush and response from before. She hiked her leg over me, rubbing against me and my cloth-covered hard-on. I thought about pulling away and going for her neck.
No. I pulled away, my breathing heavy. This was going too far, too fast in public. Even with the passion she kindled in me, I still had a responsibility to my hostess and my mother. What would I do? Have sex with Emily during the middle of a party in her mother’s house?
A familiar sharp voice cut through the air. “What are you doing?”
I looked to my side. My mother stood there, her hands on her hips, her face contorted in irritation. A few other of her society lady friends stood behind her on either side.
When I returned my attention to Emily, I realized I still had my hands on her waist. I gently released her. Whatever excuse I might have come up with about what we were doing would have been pointless, especially with the lipstick in disarray on her mouth.
“Um, Mother, I was just…getting to know Emily better,” I offered after a few seconds.
The two women behind my mother laughed quietly. Her face hardened.
“You’re making a scene,” she hissed. “At a Davidson Charitable Foundation fundraiser!”
For the first time since kissing Emily, something approaching shame washed over me, but the residual lust that wanted me to pick her up and take her to a bed fought against it. I couldn’t help it, but my mother was right. We were in the wrong. I was about to apologize when Emily spoke.
“Good,” she said.
“Good?” my mother repeated.
“I’m glad we’re making a scene,” Emily said. “I hope Lionel hears about it. That bastard.”
My mother gasped and put a hand over her mouth.
Emily stepped forward and started to fall. Lots of alcohol and high heels weren’t a good combination. I grabbed her waist, preventing her from tumbling to the ground.
“I think I should I take her to a room to lie down,” I said.
My mother nodded quickly. She walked over to me and leaned over to whisper, “Make sure no one sees her like this.” She sighed. “We’ll talk about this later.” She stepped away and crossed her arms.
“Do you know somewhere you can lie down?” I asked Emily.
“This is my parents’ house,” she said. She giggled. “I grew up here.” She pointed to the ceiling. “My room’s on the second floor.”
I’d spotted a back staircase earlier. I knew exactly where to take her.
“Okay, let’s go, Emily.”
She smiled and leaned on me. “You smell nice. You smell like a man.”
“I am, last time I checked.”
I nodded to my mother as I led Emily away. My knowledge of the layout of the place after this single visit surprised me, but I was able to lead her to the back stairwell and up the stairs without running into anyone but a housekeeper who seemed more than happy to give me directions to Emily’s room.
The whole adventure took longer than I would have planned, a good five minutes, but we did eventually arrive in her old room. She was quiet the entire time except for the occasional giggle.
A tasteful quilt covered a small bed, and there was a single wooden desk, but any hope of gaining insight into the young Emily was denied. It might have been her old room, but it looked like it was now a simple guest room with a small closet and a single dresser.
I took her purse and set it on the dresser. I helped her over to the bed and laid her on the bed on her back.
“You’re so nice,” she said, her eyes closed. “You wouldn’t have run off and had an affair.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. The sexy woman lying on the bed gave me ideas, and I needed to get out of there before we both went too far and regretted it the next day.
“I’d like to see you again,” I said. “A date, not some quick meeting lunch but an actual date.”
“Keep kissing like that, and we’ll be able to go on a lot of dates.” She lay an arm over her closed eyes.
Emily rattled off a series of numbers, and it took me a second to realize it was her phone number. I pulled my phone and entered it into my contacts.
“Call me,” she said. “And we’ll figure something out, but I think I’m going to go sleep for now.”
“Okay.”
I waited for a long moment before realizing that she’d fallen asleep fully clothed on top of her covers. I chuckled to myself and grabbed a blanket sitting on the nearby dresser and tossed it over her.
What a weird and wonderful night.
Chapter Seven
EMILY
Little angry goblin drummers had taken up residence inside my head. At least that what it felt like from the throbbing. Mercifully, my stomach didn’t twist itself into knots. It’d been a long time since I’d had a hangover, but not long enough that I didn’t know what was going on.
Two years. That’s the last time I’d drank that much. It was right after my divorce.
I blinked my eyes slowly open. My heart kicked up as I saw I wasn’t in my own bed, but then I realized I was in my old room at my house. I was still in my dress, but I was underneath a blanket and on top of the quilt.
Juniper peacefully snoozed beside me. She was wearing some pajamas I didn’t recognize. Mama must have had some sitting around just in case.
Just in case what? I couldn’t remember most of the previous night. I sat up slowly and rubbed my temples. The pounding in my head wasn’t helping me figure out what the heck had happened. My head had gone through worse in the past, but that didn’t help me much with ignoring the pain.
I took several deep breaths, trying to push back to my last clear memory. I recalled Lionel being a bastard, and then I remembered downing a lot of champagne. A soft groan escaped my lips. Of course that cheating bastard would be the cause of this mess.
Leaning over, I gave Juniper a little squeeze and kissed her on the forehead. I smiled down at my little angel, happy she’d remained untouched by all this ugliness. Children needed to be protect
ed from wickedness, so I’d shielded her from the details of why we couldn’t live with her daddy anymore. Even though it hurt, it was the right thing to do.
I slowly scooted off the bed, my stomach tightening, more out of embarrassment than because of my hangover.
It’d been a long time since I’d gotten so drunk. After all, I had a little girl to worry about, and if I wasn’t in Mama’s house, I wouldn’t have dared. I don’t even know if I would have done such a thing at my own house. Here, though, I knew Juniper had at least one other person who loved her.
Not that it was an excuse. I let out a long sigh, not bothering to put on my shoes, which lay near the doorway. Shame filled me. The ugly truth was I’d gotten falling-down drunk at Mama’s special event. I only hoped I hadn’t done anything too stupid or destructive. If I went downstairs and Mama gave me the tongue lashing of all tongue lashings, I’d have it coming, and the only thing I’d be able to do is beg for her forgiveness.
My face hot, I crept down the stairs and made my way to the kitchen. Bella stood near the sink, doing some dishes.
She offered me a polite smile, though her eyes held some concern. “Have are you feeling, Emily?”
“About as well as expected,” I said, rubbing my forehead.
“There’s some lemonade, tea, and fruit in the parlor,” she said. “That should help.”
“Did I…” I trailed off with a sigh. No reason to make Bella deliver the bad news. “Never mind. Where’s Mama?”
“Mrs. Jolie is also in the parlor, Emily.”
“Thank you.”
I fought down a groan as I turned to trudge toward the parlor. I prayed Mama would at least just use cutting words instead of yelling. My head couldn’t take loud noises. I tried to think about how I might make it up to her.
I glanced down at my clothes. My rumpled dress brought new meaning to the term hot mess. I could only imagine what my hair and face must look like. It didn’t matter. I had other reasons to be embarrassed, and I figured it was kind of like a Band-Aid. Sometimes it was best to tear it off quickly.
