I follow his words, slipping two fingers inside my soaking pussy and pumping them slowly before finding my G-spot. Derrick’s got me so turned on that finding the spot is easy, and each intense stroke leaves my toes curling on the carpet.
“All the while, you finger bang her and you lick and suck her clit like a starving man. It might take a few minutes, it might take a lot longer, but you do what she likes and stick with it until she comes. It’ll be the best reward ever, trust me. After that, well, you see what it takes. She’ll be open to you. Just listen to her body and be creative. No wham-bam, thank you, ma’am. Most women are more complex than that, all right?”
Susannah interrupts, and I can hear it in her voice that she’s turned on too. “Wow, Derrick. That was rather . . . descriptive. Fellas, from a female perspective, let me tell you . . . hell yes to all of that. Hell. Yes.”
They laugh, sending the show over to a song, and Mazzy Star’s Fade Into You comes grooving out of my radio. I keep my fingers going, pumping them in and out and finding all the ways that my body likes it, grinding the heel of my hand against my clit before easing up and brushing it with my thumb.
The whole time, I can only imagine that Derrick’s there doing it. I don’t even know what he looks like, but holy fuck, I don’t know if it matters when a man knows what he knows. My pussy clenches around my two fingers as I strum my clit with my thumb, and I cry out, pushing myself over the edge and coating my hand in my sweet slickness. The orgasm’s intense, and I bite my lip hard, moaning his name. “Derrick.”
Fuck me. God, I want him to fuck me so badly. When I come back to reality again, I realize the commercial break’s over, and I take my hand out of my soaked panties, panting shakily.
Holy Shit, Derrick’s cohort is right. Hell yes to all of that. Listening to his voice describe how he gets a woman to come, giving but always in control . . . it’s worshipful mastery and I want it.
I want it so badly.
I definitely should not have hung up last night. Kicking myself for my cowardice and the missed opportunity, I click off the radio as Derrick moves on to another caller who apparently wants to know why his girlfriend can’t come from anal.
I can’t take another answer from Derrick. Not if I want to get any sleep.
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Heartstopper
Roxy
The guys had better get ready,” I say, twirling my hair around my finger. I’m riding shotgun down the road with my best friend, Hannah Fowler, in her beat-up Lexus sedan. The windows are rolled down, the wind blowing through the cabin and ruffling our hair as the downtown streets whiz by.
It’s been a long time since I’ve gone out, and boy, have I missed it.
But tonight I’m going to let loose, I vow. Enjoy myself for once.
“Why’s that?” Hannah asks as she speeds through a yellow light, glancing over at me. With shoulder-length blonde hair, big round cheeks, and eyes that are as blue as they are huge, she looks a lot like Amanda Seyfried, and she’s played it up a few times. Equipped with a sense of humor that almost rivals mine, she’s basically been my bestie since I struck out on my own. We’re inseparable.
I grin, flashing my notorious wink I learned from my big sister, Mindy, and boast, “’Cause I’m about to release the Rox on them!”
“Did I just hear you just say you’re gonna gobble all the cocks?” Hannah yells over the roar of the wind.
I laugh. “You know damn well that wasn’t what I said!” I got ninety-nine problems and gobbling cock won’t be one. If anything, that’s on Hannah’s menu, considering the tight black number she’s wearing that looks like it’s been painted on her frame.
Hannah giggles. “Well, it’s better than unleashing your deprived vajayjay on some poor man!”
“I can’t help it,” I say, shaking my head. “You go ten months without sex and see how you feel. Knowing you, they’d have to call the Ghostbusters because you’d have fucked half a dozen men to death.”
We share a good laugh and I smile as I let my arm hang out the window, enjoying the night breeze against my skin. We haven’t even gotten to the best part of the night and I’m already in a good mood. It’s a far cry from the sour, cantankerous pain in the ass I’ve become lately.
Don’t get me wrong—my job at Franklin Consolidated is okay and all, but it’s not my first love. The grin slowly fades from my face as I think back to three years ago. I was working the club scene and singing at Trixie’s, a local club back home, busting my ass for my big break.
It never came. There were too many rejection letters, too many times I got passed up on auditions. I almost tried out for X-Factor but got sick right before with a bad cold, so even that didn’t go as planned. Eventually, I set the microphone aside and went back to school. Mom at least had the decency to not say I told you so about my short-lived career as a singer. Instead, she gave me encouragement when I said I was moving away to finish up the degree that I’d been putting off.
I don’t really know why I moved away. My stepfather, John, has more money than my family could spend in five lifetimes and is more than happy to share it. Champagne, designer dresses, cocktail parties, and vacationing on yachts. I could’ve had it all, the total deb socialite.
But nepotism is not a life I want for myself. I want to stand on my own two feet like my sister, Mindy. Sure, she ended up marrying a super-handsome, rich stud, but she worked her ass off before that and still does.
Thinking about her, I feel guilt tighten my chest. I haven’t talked to her or anyone in my family for months. It’s partly because we all lead such busy lives, but I’d argue that Mindy’s life is perfect now. She’s got a great husband, two adorable kids, and a business of her own that she loves running.
I’m nowhere near there. And I can’t help but have this nagging feeling that even if I’m successful in my new career path, I may never get that feeling. So yeah, a night like this is just what the doctor ordered.
“Seriously, though, I need this,” I tell Hannah. “We should do this more often.”
As a gift to us both, Hannah decided to hit the grand opening of Club Jasmine, a brand new nightclub that’s being opened by a couple of rich pricks whose names I don’t know. It’s supposed to be hot and ritzy. I just want to get to the hot part.
Hannah nods. “I know, honey. You’ve been working hard for what? Ten months? And already getting a promotion. You need to reward yourself.” She shakes her head. “I’ve been worried about you.”
Satisfaction rolls through me. It’s about the only positive thing I can say about my job. My hard work has paid off. I’ve been recognized by the execs, and starting next week, I’m getting promoted, working as an assistant to the new regional president. I’m not his secretary. I’m going to be one of the junior analysts, gathering data and such for him. I can see myself going up the ladder in a couple of years and making big money.
But at what cost? I think to myself. At this pace, I’ll be sitting in a corner office with nobody to come home to, my best years behind me. The pay might be good, but is it worth giving up the one thing that brings me joy?
Hannah pulls up to a red light, and I force that troubling thought from my mind, checking my makeup in the mirror. I’ve got dark hair, sparkling hazel eyes, and pouty lips, just like all the women in my family, and I’m pretty enough, I guess. But my spark, that mischievousness that made men weak in the knees, is absent from my eyes.
I need to get back to doing what I love, even if only on the weekends. Screw prioritizing work.
“What you should be worried about is the poor guy who’s gonna need a heart monitor when I get done with him,” I say, determined to stay upbeat, snapping my lipstick closed.
Hannah gives me a serious look and deadpans. “Is it really that bad? I thought you were just joking at first, but Jesus, Rox, I’m kinda scared. You ever see that movie Teeth, with the vagina that grows fangs? I feel like that’s you right now.”
“
Oh, go to hell!” I laugh, but Hannah grins.
“Seriously, maybe we should just call it a night before you get yourself in trouble. I mean, I’m sure you’ve got something in your drawer at home that will take the edge off.”
I laugh. “Sorry, only the real thing will do. I prefer my meat hard, throbbing, and able to spray paint the walls.”
Hannah gags. “Gross! Just make sure you use protection. Don’t want you to wind up on Maury waiting to hear ‘You are the father!’ and the crowd going apeshit.”
“Okay, Mom. I’ll make sure to snag some of his DNA just in case.”
We both laugh as she turns a corner, and we see a line of cars stretching up the street.
Despite all my talk, I probably won’t even sleep with anyone. I’m just here to have fun, unwind, and relax. And if it comes along with getting to flirt with a cute as fuck guy, I’m all for it. The gears might be rusty, but I bet I can still twerk my ass with the best of them after I get warmed up.
My breath catches in my throat as the club comes into view. It’s beautiful. The parking lot is big and well-lit. The building itself looks like anything but a nightclub, with a large fountain out front and beautiful marble steps that are flanked by grand columns leading to the white double-door entryway. There’s a long line wrapped around the building, and I can tell the grand opening ceremony is already over as they’re just starting to let people in.
I’ve seen a lot of clubs, but I’m truly impressed with the presentation of this one. Everything I see says the owners sank a lot of money into this place. Honestly, it puts Trixie’s, with its neon sign, disco ball in the ceiling, and pink and purple ambient lighting to shame.
There’s no room to park in the main lot, so we have to go to the overflow lot down the street, barely finding a parking spot. Getting out, a cool night breeze sweeps the area, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin and excitement to warm my blood. Overhead, the full moon makes me feel like a wolf on the prowl.
Hannah peers at me, looking around my backside. Unlike her, I’ve opted for a red club dress, one that hugs my curves in all the right places. I got it from Mindy, who had her fair share of good luck in it, so maybe it’ll do the same for me. “Damn, girl, your ass didn’t look that big when we left home. Did you stuff it with some pads or something?”
I place my hands on my hips and boast, “Girl, seriously? This is all-natural! They write songs about an ass like this!” I start popping my ass, reciting some classic lyrics.
Hannah bends over, grabbing her sides while laughing. “Oh, my God, stop! You’re killing me.”
“Stop making fun of my bootyliciousness then and let’s go!”
Giggling, we make our way to the club, evading people on the street. I see a couple of guys look my way and I feel a little thrill. I don’t see anything I like, though, so I keep going until we reach the club and the line that’s jam-packed out the building. Luckily for us, Hannah has a reservation for us so we don’t have to wait. I’d like to dance sometime before next Tuesday.
We walk past the men in line, and I feel more eyes on me. These men are all dressed well. There are no open shirts and rolled sleeves but rather suits and ties. It must be the club theme for the grand opening. My confidence should grow, but I’m hit by a sudden feeling of anxiety. Am I really ready to rock someone’s world or am I just looking for companionship? It’s been so long since I’ve been in the social company of the opposite sex. I don’t even know.
From inside the club, the bass of the music thrums against my body as we reach the door. My heart begins to pound. I almost feel like I’m back at Trixie’s. Almost. The two handsome bouncers are dressed in fitted suits, their hair cut professionally and their designer sunglasses blocking their eyes. They kinda look like the Men In Black. Whoever is running this place isn’t playing around.
“We have a reservation,” Hannah says. I don’t know how she got it. She’s got connections, I guess. Hannah gives her name and the bouncers let us in, pulling the large double-doors wide.
The entire interior is just as luxurious as the exterior. The bar stretches around a good quarter of the large rotunda that makes up the main room, lit up beautifully in blues and dim whites. Out on the floor, beautiful women and men dressed in great suits are already dancing beneath a balcony that overlooks everything. There’s a crowd up there, and I bet it’s the VIP section from the way things look.
My eyes are pulled to the stage that’s set up so that the VIP balcony can watch, and I feel my heart speed up some more. I want to get up there. I want to feel their eyes. I want their applause. I want to rock this place out.
“This place is incredible,” I finally say. It’s no lie, either. Everything, down to the smallest detail, is amazing.
“Isn’t it?” Hannah says, perfectly serious. “They really went all out.” Hannah’s eyes hungrily rove over the crowd. “But less talking and more stalking. Let’s hit the bar.”
We’re not even seated for a full minute before some blonde guy is hitting on Hannah. In my ‘lucky’ red dress, I feel a little deflated.
My disappointment is short-lived, unfortunately.
“Mind if I have a seat?” asks a voice. I look up into a pale but handsome face.
“Not at all,” I say politely.
He sits down beside me and grins, his eyes piercing into me. For some reason, my flesh crawls at his look. It’s just a bit off, even if he is hot.
“So where you from?” His voice has a nasal, whiny tone it, and I regret telling him to have a seat.
Somewhere you’re not, I want to say, and hopefully will never be. The words are on my lips, but I’m not comfortable being rude.
“Summerfield,” I say diplomatically. Come on, it’s been ten months. I should give the guy a chance. Maybe he’s just nervous and he’s actually sweet.
He arches an eyebrow. “Summerfield, huh? Where’s that?”
I wave my hands nondescriptly. “Off somewhere on the coast.”
He chuckles. “It’s like that, huh?” He nods at the waiter. “Can I have a Bud Light for my lady friend here?”
“You don’t have to buy me a drink,” I try to protest. I hate beer.
“I insist” he says firmly, grinning at me. “A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be sitting here alone without a beer.”
“Is he the one?” Hannah whispers sarcastically in my ear. I could just kill her. The guy saddled next to her doesn’t give me the creeps and remind me of Draco Malfoy.
I mouth No, giving her an outraged look.
“Remember what you said. Unleash the Rox!” she jokes.
More like I’m thinking of unleashing The Rock to come lay the smackdown on this dude’s ass if he doesn’t take a hint.
The beer comes, and Mr. Weird tries to talk me up some more. “So, what do you do?”
“Office stuff, nothing cool,” I reply, trying to politely let the guy know I’m not interested. “You’d be bored.”
But he’s not having it. “Oh, every job seems boring when you’re doing it,” he says, fiddling with his drink. “Hey, try the beer. It’s pretty good.”
“Not just yet. I don’t want to have to run to the ladies’ room all night,” I reply. Actually, hitting up the ladies’ room might be a good idea. It’d get me away from this guy.
“Oh, I get that. But come on, what could one beer hurt? Hey, if you need to pee, I’ll escort you to the guy’s room. Nobody’ll say anything.”
Seriously? Now I don’t feel bad. My gut feeling was right. This dude is a creep. As the music changes, I mutter under my breath, “Somebody please fucking save me.”
Jake - One Hour Ago . . .
“This is gonna be epic,” Nathan Scott, my childhood friend and business partner, boasts as the limo we’re in rounds the corner. He’s seated across from me, dressed sharp as a tack for our big night.
“All the cards have lined up for us,” he continues. “We’ve got a great local band and an assload of local celebrities. We even got that girl
who’s got like two million Instagram followers because of her ass. That ass and Club Jasmine are going to be in front of two million people by the end of the night. I’m telling you, we’ve got everything.” Nathan claps his hands and rubs them together. “This is going to be huge, Jake. Huge!”
I shift again in my cushioned seat, messing with the cufflink of my shirt. I can’t deny the excitement in Nathan’s words, but I know you can do all the right things and still have a business fail. So I’m not getting my hopes up too much yet.
The nightclub was his idea, developed right about the time the rumors started about Graham Holdings, the company I work for, buying out Franklin Consolidated. I’d been reluctant to invest at first. But when Nathan laid out the numbers, I was sold. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” I say.
“Damn, man, can you be any more excited?” Nathan says, peering at me with a scowl. “This is a big day for us.”
It’s not that I’m not excited, and I usually consider myself calm and collected under pressure, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t sweating bullets. We poured a lot of money in this thing. In fact, I poured everything I’ve saved into this.
I need this to succeed.
Especially when I have Sophie depending on me to take care of her, I think to myself. Sophie’s my sixteen-year-old sister who was orphaned six years ago when our parents were taken in a car accident.
She wanted to come with me tonight. Of course, she knew she couldn’t since she’s underage. “You can let me in. I don’t even need a fake ID,” she’d said, bouncing up and down and trying to look her cutest. Maybe that works when she wants me to let her buy a new skirt on my credit card, but this isn’t the same thing.
Still, it makes me smile. I’d done the same shit when I was younger, but I’m not going to let her break off into bad habits.
“See it?” Nathan asks as I’m still silent in my thoughts, his Bronx accent coming on full as he pulls my mind back to the limo. “The fuck? It’s all right in front of you. We got the whole fucking world at our feet.”
Dirty Laundry Page 31
