100 PROOF
Page 8
I didn’t want anything serious.
A part of me regretted not showing up, though. With him so close now, breathing me in, I realized I should have just gone with it.
“Let me kiss you,” he whispered against my lips. His breath was warm, the 100 proof whiskey soft on his breath.
I didn’t speak. Didn’t refuse. All I gave was a simple bob of my head, and he crushed my lips in an instant, picking me up in his large arms.
I couldn’t fight the moan coursing through me as I tore at his shirt, wanting it off, wanting to feel his warm body on mine.
He brought me down to the floor, on top of a gray area rug. He unbuttoned my jeans and then peeled them off. As he did, I pulled my shirt off, panting wild and heavy.
The jeans were gone and he slid right between my legs again, grinding the rock in his pants between my thighs, his lips claiming mine all over again. His tongue slid through my lips, and he tasted me, like he did the very first night we met.
He groaned, liked he loved the sweetness on my tongue—like he loved the many flavors I could provide. He pulled his mouth away, kissing down to my neck. He sucked on the bend of it, and heat struck my core.
“You’re supposed to be kissing me,” I told him, slightly teasing.
“I am,” he murmured on my skin, going down to the curve of my breasts. “Everywhere.”
He kissed down to my navel, lower and lower, until he was right above my panties. He was perched over me. I looked down as he looked up, and he spread my legs a little wider, kissing my clit through my panties.
“Oh, God,” I whispered, my head tipping back.
He dropped down and I wasn’t expecting what he did next. He ate me through my panties— not fully tasting, just teasing. His tongue skimmed up and down, and I clutched the rug, sighing as he dampened the cotton.
My body was overheated. Eager. Ready. Lust took full control of every single one of my senses. All I wanted was his tongue buried inside me, tasting me, owning me. He knew it, too, because he kept going, one finger beneath the waistband of my panties now, like he was going to tear them off at any moment.
“Don’t avoid me anymore, Marley,” he growled, slowly taking my panties off. I lifted my legs, aiding him. “I can show you a good time, and I want you. Let me have you.” His warm mouth hovered above me.
“I won’t avoid you anymore,” I breathed. “You can have me.”
I heard him laugh a deep, guttural laugh. “Good.” After he responded, he buried his tongue in my pussy and ate me like he hadn’t had a meal in days. He gripped my hips, hoisting them up so my thighs were around his head, and watched me as I writhed and twisted, still clutching the rug.
I don’t think I’d ever moaned so loudly. I didn’t think I could feel like this with any guy. I’d made out with plenty of guys, yeah. I’d even let a few of them try oral on me here and there, but it always sucked. I never cared for it. It seemed like a waste of time because none of them could get it right.
But with Vin, it was different.
I saw that night that Vin had it right. The previous boys I’d messed around with were fuck boys, as he called them—boys who couldn’t get a woman off to save their lives, but had no problem getting themselves off with the woman’s body.
It turns out those guys didn’t know anything about eating a girl out. While they were lazy with it, Vin devoured me like I was the only thing he wanted to taste. He sipped me like I was the sweetest, strongest whiskey. He made sure to lick and trace every spot with his tongue while holding me tight, refusing to let go.
My legs wobbled around his head.
“You taste so good,” he murmured, lifting up a bit, but he went back to it, swirling his hot, flat tongue around my clit. I couldn’t even hold it in. I didn’t know what was happening to my body—what this fire was surging through me and down to my core—but it came, and it came fast.
“Oh, Vin!” I cried out, squeezing my eyes tight as my body shook violently. He didn’t give up there. He licked softly until my body finally decided to calm down.
He lowered my hips to the ground, kissing his way back up. He planted his hands outside my head, laughing when my eyes found his.
“What in the hell was that?” I breathed.
“That,” he laughed, licking his lips, “was me eating your pussy until you came, baby.”
It was my first orgasm. A real orgasm.
I laughed, playfully pushing him off and then climbing on top of him. “I can tell you’ve never been eaten like that before,” he said.
“How?” I challenged, focusing on his beautifully sculpted face. His lips were raw and pink, slightly damp.
“It was too quick—almost too easy.” He looked me over. “I don’t think you’ve even been touched down there like you should have. At least, not with a dick.”
My lips pressed thin. “Nope, and I’m not ashamed of that fact either.”
“No one said you had to be.” He grabbed my hips. “Just makes me want you even more.”
“Because I’m a virgin?”
“No. Because I get to teach you new things first.” He put on a lopsided smile.
“What makes you think I’ll let you take it?”
He cupped the back of my neck, pulling me down until I was flat on top of his body. He kissed me softly, gently, one hand on my ass, the other still cupping the back of my neck. A moan I couldn’t restrain filled my throat and I lifted my hand to touch his cheek.
“I don’t know,” he finally uttered, our lips a hairs breadth apart. “But I’m gonna work damn hard to get it, Marlena.”
I gave him a playful eye roll and before I could lightly smack him on his cheek, he brought his lips up to mine again, rolled me onto my back, and kissed me.
He didn’t try to take my virginity. No. I don’t even think he wanted it that night. He just wanted to feel me. Taste me. Tease me. He wanted to prove something, but I wasn’t sure if he was trying to prove that something to himself or me.
For the rest of that night, I didn’t think about the chaos back at home. I didn’t think about my mother or my father. I didn’t think about the diner or how I had a ten-hour shift the next day.
I was too preoccupied with Vincent to care. Nothing else mattered but that bottle of 100 proof and us in his penthouse. Fun isn’t the word I would use to describe that night.
That night was freeing—liberating.
And it was all because he cared enough to make it possible.
VIN
Present
“Wait a minute . . . she’s what!” Zay looked right at me, completely shocked. We were at Ocean Rico’s, a sport’s bar in Laguna, only a few miles away from Holly Estates.
I nodded. “Yep. Marrying Dickhead Junior himself. I still can’t believe this shit.”
“Wow!” he burst out laughing, picking up his beer. “What are the fucking odds? I remember some of the stories you told me about him. You pretty much hate him.” He chuckled. “I swear, you always have the worst luck. Am I sure I want to go into business with someone who always seems to be getting fucked in the ass?”
I flipped him off. “There is no pretty much about it. I hate him just as much as he hates me.” I grabbed a handful of pretzels as Zay chugged down the rest of his beer and then laughed beneath his breath. “This shit is not funny, man. I mean she’s changed completely. That wasn’t the same Marley we hung out with before, I’m telling you. It’s like he fucking brainwashed her or some shit. She got her hair cut; she’s wearing all these fancy dresses and shoes that she used to tell me she would never wear. It’s like she’s living a lie.” I shook my head, looking towards the flat screen TV where the Brazil vs. Argentina soccer game was playing.
He picked up his empty glass, smirking as he stood. “You sure you don’t want a drink? Seems like you really need it right about now. Hell, I’ll even buy it for you.” He was being a smartass. If I hadn’t had my head so wrapped up around Lloyd and Marley, I would have been a smartass right back.
“I’m just kidding, man. Hey—when I get back, let’s go over the plans for the club. Take your mind off of that shit.” He walked towards the bar and ordered another round for himself.
While he was away, I picked up my cellphone, going to my photos and swiping through them. I still had a collection of pictures. Not many—only twelve of them—but they were my favorite pictures of Marley and me. Back when things were simple and fun. Before shit blew up and I noticed her changing . . . before she noticed me changing.
I guess I couldn’t blame her. What happened was tragic and could have been prevented, but we were all too fucked up to do anything. Marley hadn’t been the same since.
I studied each picture, how bright her eyes were. How smooth and relaxed her smile was while she was by my side. How relaxed she was with me.
With Lloyd, she was so stiff. She hardly touched him, even when he tried bringing her closer, it seemed she would pull away and make an excuse about something to get out of his reach.
It was obvious she didn’t love him. She was acting weird because I was there, yes, but there was no connection between them—nothing deep or sensual about their relationship at all.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it almost seemed . . . forced.
• • • • •
Nine days passed, and I still couldn’t get her out of my head.
On top of that, I received an email from Will about continuing the agreement. Money for being Lloyd’s best man. I stared at it, contemplating longer than I should have.
I didn’t print it out or sign it.
I fucking couldn’t.
Money had come between me and Marley before. I couldn’t let it happen again, so I left the agreement waiting in my inbox, refusing to do anything with it. I would still show up, do my part, but I didn’t want his fucking money anymore.
He wouldn’t care either, just as long as I followed through and didn’t tell Becks. As long as his son was happy and as long as I didn’t fuck things up, he was fine with whatever.
I had another flight scheduled to Texas two weeks later. We were going to get fitted for tuxedos. When I landed, Becks wasn’t there to pick me up. She told me she had work to do, but Elton was there, standing in front of a black SUV.
I checked into the same hotel, this time in a presidential suite, unable to sleep. I guess the suite was my reward from Will for following through. Whatever.
I was on edge that night. The only thing I needed was a small sip. Just a sip to keep myself steady—to occupy my mind and take the edge off.
I glanced towards the fridge, gripping the edge of the bed. I stared at it for way too long, knowing what kind of treats were inside it. I grunted, and before I could do something stupid, I got dressed, snatched up my cellphone and room key, and hustled out.
As soon as I stepped outside the hotel, I pulled out a cigarette, sparked it, and inhaled, allowing the buzz to wash over me. I had to walk. I had to calm down.
I turned and started down the sidewalk, walking past small shops and expensive restaurants. The streets were clear for the most part, but not very quiet. There was a bar only a short walk away and I purposely hustled past it, taking another pull from my cigarette, keeping my gaze ahead.
A small gym appeared and through the window I could see the instructor cycling like a madman. The class was packed with both women and men. They were just starting to wrap up. The instructor climbed off of his bike and praised a few people for their hard work.
A woman walked up to him, grinning from ear to ear, her hair damp at the nape of her neck. She had on a pink headband, yoga pants that conformed perfectly to her full ass, and a black tank top. The instructor said something to make her laugh and then she finally came towards the door.
She stepped out, using the towel on her shoulder to wipe the sweat away from her forehead and neck. When the wind blew, she exhaled, like she loved the feel of the breeze on her skin.
I tossed my cigarette, watching her from only a few steps away. I watched as she checked her cellphone, rolled her eyes, and then looked up. Her eyes snagged on mine, and she blinked several times, like she was staring at a ghost.
I walked toward her before she tried to leave. Her shoulders tensed, and she stepped sideways, tucking dark wisps of hair behind her ears.
“Vin,” Marley breathed, looking me up and down. “What are you doing here?” She frowned, like I was the last person she wanted to see.
“Getting fitted for a tux, supposedly,” I said, stopping only a few inches away.
“Right now?” she frowned.
I laughed. “Tomorrow.”
“Oh.” She fidgeted in her tennis shoes. “I didn’t know you were coming back so soon.”
“I’m assuming Lloyd didn’t tell you.” I shrugged. “Probably for a reason.”
She pursed her lips, peering around.
“You look great,” I said.
She huffed a laugh, and though her cheeks were already flushed, I swear I saw them turn redder. “Seriously? I look like a greasy pig. Nice try, though.”
“I’m serious. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
She narrowed her gaze and then changed the subject. “Are you staying at the hotel nearby?”
“Yep.”
“How do you like it? Is it nice?”
I inhaled deeply before releasing it. “Marley, seriously? Are you really going to ask me these formal-ass questions, like we’ve just met?”
She shrugged. “That’s the way it has to be.” She jingled her keys and then walked towards the white BMW parked in front of the gym building.
“Let me guess,” I started. “Lloyd bought you this car?”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. She looked sideways at me, opening the passenger door and then tossing her bag and sweaty towel on the leather seat.
“Who else would buy it for me?”
“Is that why you’re with him? Why you’re doing this? For the money?”
She scowled then, folding her arms. She was getting defensive. “No, it’s not just about the money, and even if it was, how is any of it your concern?”
I leaned against the car with a smirk, holding her gaze. “Because you don’t do ‘rich guys’.”
Her mouth twitched, like she wanted to laugh, but it wasn’t like her to laugh at something like that. Not anymore, at least.
“I should go. Lloyd’s waiting.”
“Of course he is,” I muttered, pushing off the car.
She stepped around to the driver’s side and opened the door. She paused for a second, looking up at me over the roof of the car. “Listen . . . we should meet for breakfast tomorrow. All three of us.”
I was about to turn her down.
The thought of Lloyd being there, flaunting and showing off, pissed me off automatically, but as I studied her blue eyes, I realized this wasn’t an offer. It was a plea.
She wanted to see me again. She wouldn’t admit it aloud, but I could tell.
“Sure.”
Her lips pressed to smile. She bent down and pulled something out of the car. I stepped closer, and when she came back out, she had a pen and a scrap sheet of paper in hand.
“My number.” She handed me the paper. “I’ll tell Lloyd I ran into you out here.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” I laughed. “He might throw a bitch fit about it.”
“I’m sure if I handled your tantrums for as long as I did, then I can handle his too.”
I quirked a brow. “What is that supposed to mean?” My chest tightened, that same old guilt seizing every part of me.
Her face fell flat and her head shook. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Just . . . text this number so I can have yours in my phone. I’ll let you know where we decide to eat and you can meet us there.”
; “Yeah.” I scratched the scruff on my chin. “Sure, Marley.”
She forced a smile. “Good.” She placed a hand on my shoulder. It was warm, familiar. I missed it. Her touch. Her, period.
“Goodnight, Vinny.” After she said the name, her cheeks flamed red again. She turned before I could say anything, started the car, and drove away—probably hoping I hadn’t caught that, but I did. She only called me Vinny when she felt something. When she wanted me. Back when she loved me.
I wondered if she still had love for me. If she felt how I felt without her—like breathing was harder. Like life was tougher. Like waking up every morning without each other was a battle, but would always be a victory if we woke up together.
Maybe she did because when she drove away, she was staring through the rearview mirror.
And not just at anything. She was staring at me.
MARLEY
I couldn’t get over the run-in with Vin. It was starting to freak me out how often our paths were crossing now, so close to the wedding.
I tossed and turned that same night, remembering everything, from the day we first met, to the last day I saw him in rehab. Going from light to dark. From complete and utter happiness, to darkness and despair.
With a sigh, I applied my lipstick as Lloyd walked behind me, mumbling about the breakfast I never should have planned with his brother.
“I don’t know why you had to offer meeting for breakfast,” he grumbled, fixing his tie. “There’s no point in being nice to him. He’ll run all over you.”
“He’s your brother, Lloyd. Plus, I want to make a good impression on all your family.” I wanted to cringe after saying that. “You two should try and be civil,” I went on. “Make up—do whatever the hell you need to do to put the drama aside. I want the wedding to be perfect, and I don’t want any drama.”
He stepped up behind me, wrapping his hands around my middle and placing a kiss on the back of my neck. “The wedding will be perfect, regardless. I just don’t want him ruining it.”
When he said that, I felt my heart sink a bit. Vin could object, or he could just not show up. I pretended to be oblivious. “Do you think he would really stoop so low as to ruin the wedding?”