The New Rule: (The Casual Rule 2)

by AC Netzel

  “Oh, really? It’ll be nice to see him too. It’s been a long time.”

  I met Pierce the one and only time I was at Sinful. Ben and I were… broken-up, for lack of a better word, at the time. Allie dragged me out to Sinful to bring me out of my self-imposed exile from the world. Vince had brought Pierce along. Just my luck, Ben was there, beyond drunk, watching me and Pierce, who he thought was my new boyfriend. That night Ben showed up at my apartment so smashed he could barely stand, demanding to see “the guy I was fucking”. It’s not a pleasant memory.

  Well, that was months ago. Ben and I are together. He knows Pierce was never my boyfriend. I’m sure it’s all water under the bridge now.

  A hand grips my thigh and squeezes it hard. I glance over at Ben and frown. His jaw is clenched, and he’s staring straight ahead. Guess there’s some water still swishing above the bridge. I widen my eyes with a “what the fuck are you doing?” glare. He turns his head and looks at me then releases his death grip.

  Peter was right, this should prove to be an interesting night.

  Fortunately, the conversation turns when Marcello asks Ben about his next scheduled trip.

  “So Ben, how many cities are you going to on your next trip?”

  “Three. Pittsburgh, Cleveland, and Detroit.”

  “Who’s photographing the stadiums?”

  “Someone I haven’t met. Laura something.”

  Marcello’s eyes widen. “Nutley? You’re going there with Laura Nutley?”

  “Yeah, I think that’s her name.”

  “Hmm. Okay.”

  “Wait a minute, what’s that ‘hmm’ about?” I ask.

  “Oh, nothing,” Marcello lies, looking anywhere but at me.

  “Don’t bullshit me. What do you know?”

  “Well… in the photography circles I travel, we call her Whora Slutly. She’s a man-eater… preys on taken men. You know, girl-code breaker. She lives for the challenge.”

  I turn to Ben. “Who picked this woman to travel with you?”

  Ben shrugs. “I don’t know. Her name was on the itinerary Wisteria Hill’s travel agent emailed to me.”

  I turn back to Marcello. “Tell me more about this… Laura person.”

  “She’s tall, athletic, and pretty—if you go for that Swedish supermodel look. She’s smart but has the ditzy damsel in distress act down. All the guys fall for it. All of them. Once she sets her sights on a man, she will not rest until she’s riding him.” He cups his hand up to his mouth and whispers. “I’ve heard she’s quite fond of the reverse cowgirl. Her other nickname is ‘Calamity Laura’.”

  I turn and scowl at Ben.

  “What?” he asks.

  “You know what,” I snap.

  “No.”

  “Oh for crying out loud, Ben. Julia doesn’t want you to go away with that Whora skank,” Allie says. I whip my head around and glare at Allie.

  “Why not?” Ben asks.

  “Uh… because she’s going to try to seduce you,” Allie answers matter-of-factly.

  “This is ridiculous,” Ben scoffs, folding his arms across his chest.

  “I’d like to go on record stating that although she is the sluttiest of all the sluts in Slutlandia, she is an excellent photographer,” Marcello adds.

  “Thanks, that makes me feel a whole lot better,” I answer sarcastically.

  Ben grabs my hand and squeezes it. “Julia knows she has nothing to worry about. Don’t you?”

  “Marcello is a photographer. Why can’t he go with you?” I ask.

  “I don’t pick who does the photography. You know this.” He frowns. “You’re not worried that something will happen, are you?”

  “Of course not,” I lie, straightening my posture and pretending I’m offended by his question.

  Of course, I’m fucking worried. She’d have to be an idiot not to want to get her whore-hooks on Ben. I don’t care that she sleeps around… to each his own. But I do care that she targets taken men. Ben is most definitely taken. I hate girl-code breakers and the asshole cheaters who hook-up with them. There are plenty of willing single guys, why can’t she hook-up with them?

  I could always join him, but I used up all my vacation days when Ben and I got back together and stayed in bed for a week. And I’m out of sick days too. Crap.

  “Good. How about some dessert?” Ben wisely changes the subject.

  “Fine.”

  ~o0o~

  After refusing help from our guests, Allie and I clear off the table and bring out desserts, the half dozen cupcakes Ben bought and a pie I picked up from the bakery around the corner.

  Everyone refuses my offer for coffee. They don’t want to dull their wine buzz.

  Marcello grabs a cupcake and moves it to the corner of the table, away from everyone.

  “Why’d you put that over there?” Allie asks.

  “I’m saving it for Julia. Apparently she thinks she’s a cake and wants Ben to decorate her later.”

  “Rumor has it that they practice the ancient art of cupcake coitus. You know, pastry porn,” Peter teases.

  “Et tu, Peter? I thought I had an ally in you,” I scold.

  “You thought wrong.” Peter takes a cupcake for himself, dips his finger in the frosting and licks it off. “Ben, you’re in for a delicious treat.”

  Ben laughs. I close my eyes and shake my head.

  My friends suck… but I love them anyway.

  ~o0o~

  We’re still drinking our wine when the intercom buzzes.

  “Oh, that must be Pierce.” Allie stands and after a two-second chat on the intercom, buzzes him in.

  After a few minutes, there’s a knock on the door. Vince stands up to let him in. After they shake hands and exchange some paperwork, Vince introduces Pierce to everyone.

  I forgot how good looking Pierce is. He’s seriously handsome—tall, tan, piercing blue eyes, dark brown hair, and ridiculously kissable lips. Some girl is going to hit the jackpot when she lands him. I look to my side; Marcello is already salivating.

  “And you remember Julia?” Vince says as he finishes the introductions around the table.

  I stand and walk over to Vince and Pierce.

  “Of course. Julia, you look fantastic,” Pierce says, leaning in and kissing my cheek.

  “Thanks, so do you. You’re so tan. Already going to Jones Beach?”

  “Wow, you remembered. Yes, I was there last weekend before the summer crowds take over. Still going to the Jersey Shore?”

  “I’ll be there Memorial Day weekend.”

  “God, it’s so good to see you again. I’ve thought about you. Remember you owe me a drama-free night out.” I know he’s referring to the night at Sinful when a very drunk Ben stalked us. Pierce was a perfect gentleman and saw me home. I promised him a drama-free date night that never happened once Ben came back into my life.

  “Aww, you’re sweet. We should meet up for coffee sometime.”

  “Ahem,” Ben clears his throat. Loudly.

  I hold onto Pierce’s arm and direct him toward Ben. “Pierce, this is my boyfriend, Ben.”

  Pierce nods and extends his hand out. “You may not remember, but we sort of met once.”

  Ben looks down at his hand and pauses, then shakes his hand. “Yes, I remember,” he says flatly, never breaking eye contact.

  “Pierce, can you join us for a little while? Have a glass of wine before you go to wherever you’re off to,” Allie asks.

  He looks at his watch. “Sure, I have time for a quick drink.”

  Ben mumbles something under his breath. It sounded like “I bet you do.”

  Vince carries a chair from the kitchen and hands it to Pierce, who places it down between me and Marcello. Marcello is beaming, he’s in heaven.

  “So Pierce, what do you do?” Marcello flirts. He doesn’t try to make a secret of his attraction to Pierce. Luckily, Peter is a pretty secure guy and just rolls with it.

  “Public relations and marketing. Mostly consultation
work for Vince.”

  “Well then, a little tip… If you wear a hardhat at job sites, don’t let Allie take you to a bathroom. Needing the urinal won’t be the only reason you’ll unzip your fly.”

  Allie throws a crumpled napkin across the table at Marcello. “You’re an ass,” she complains.

  Marcello leans back, crossing his arms in front of his chest, and grins.

  “So Ben, what do you do?” Pierce asks.

  “I write,” he answers brusquely.

  “Newspaper, magazines?”

  “Books.”

  “Ah, interesting. What do you write about?”

  “Base. Ball.”

  What’s with the one syllable answers? Ben is usually Mr. Conversationalist. Why is he so rude?

  “So Pierce, are you seeing anyone?” I ask.

  “Not at the moment. Seems like all the good ones are currently taken,” he says, stressing the word “currently.” I didn’t miss it and judging by the tenseness in Ben’s jawline; he didn’t miss it either.

  “Pierce used to ask about you all the time,” Allie teases.

  “Oh stop it, Allie.” I know I’m blushing.

  Pierce chuckles. “It’s okay, she’s right. I did. If things don’t work out between you and… what did you call him at Sinful? Oh yeah, the ‘dead subject’, call me,” he teases, waving his index finger between me and Ben.

  Ben places his hand firmly on my knee and squeezes it. Apparently he doesn’t see the humor.

  “That,” he pauses, glaring at Pierce, “won’t be happening.”

  I glower at Ben. He knows I’m fuming, and he doesn’t care.

  “Hey man, I was only kidding around,” Pierce says, holding up his hands in surrender.

  “I wasn’t,” Ben warns, eyeing me and Pierce suspiciously.

  I didn’t think it was scientifically possible, but I think I see actual testosterone particles floating in the air. This battle of the balls has got to stop. There’s an uncomfortable silence in the room.

  “My, my… I think we should open a window, the air seems to have gotten a bit thick in here,” Marcello jokes. I turn, narrowing my eyes, and scowl at Marcello.

  I’m about to murder Ben for being so rude. I grab my wine glass, gripping the stem so hard I’ll probably snap it in half. I’m two seconds away from throwing the contents in Ben’s face and snapping him out of his mood when I feel a tug on my arm. Marcello stretches behind Pierce and waves his hand, gesturing he wants to tell me something.

  “Please don’t waste the wine. If you must throw something at him, throw the pie,” he whispers.

  “Mind your business,” I whisper back as I return to an upright position in my seat.

  I glare at Marcello, then Pierce, then Ben. Ménage a twits.

  Pierce stands up from his chair. “Well, I should be going. Julia, it was good to see you again. Ben, no hard feelings, man. I was only kidding.”

  “Yeah, it’s all good,” Ben grumbles as they shake.

  I stand and give Pierce a stiff wave. “It was good seeing you.”

  “You too, Julia.”

  Vince walks Pierce to the door while the rest of the table stares at me and Ben. I’m slouching with my lips pursed and arms crossed in front of my chest. Ben is staring straight ahead, his jawline tense. The sudden chill in the air makes the room feel like December.

  Hasn’t this turned into a delightful dinner party?

  “It’s only eleven o’clock. I want to go dancing. Anyone else in?” Marcello asks.

  “We are,” everyone says in unison. The whole table jumps up but the two sulking fools.

  “Jules, you want to join us?” Allie asks, already knowing the answer.

  I glance over at Ben. He’s brooding. I look back at Allie and shake my head slightly. She gets it.

  “You want help clearing off the table?” Peter offers.

  “Thanks, I got it. Go ahead. Have fun. We’ll meet up with you another time.”

  The four scramble for the door. They’re so desperate to leave; they practically smash into each other, like they’re running from a burning building, leaving me alone to deal with Mr. Cheerful.

  Chapter 4

  Once the apartment door closes, I spin around and face Ben. “What the hell is your problem?” I ask.

  “That fucker wants you. He was goading me.”

  “He was joking around.”

  “Bullshit. I swore to myself I’d never ask you, but I have to know. Did you sleep with him?”

  “Why are you asking me this? I’ve already told you he was never my boyfriend.”

  “That’s not what I asked. Answer the question.”

  “First of all, we were not together the one and only time I met Pierce. You weren’t man enough to admit you loved me.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “I can’t believe you’re asking this.”

  He nods, his eyes widening. “Believe it.”

  “Would it matter? Today, after everything we’ve been through… would something that may or may not have happened when you tossed me aside and broke my heart matter?”

  “Just answer my question.”

  “Fine. He took me home and I invited him in, but he turned me down.”

  “Did you invite him in to screw you?”

  “You’re acting like an asshole.”

  “I don’t give a fuck. Answer me.”

  “I don’t know why I invited him in. You annihilated my heart. He was nice to me. You want an answer… here’s my answer, you idiot. I. Don’t. Know. I don’t know what might have happened. That’s my answer.”

  “I don’t want him here anymore.”

  “Why? Nothing happened. In fact, you showed up a few hours later, drunk out of your mind.”

  “He wants you.”

  “You don’t get to dictate who I see.”

  “Jesus, Julia, are you blind? The guy had you undressed and was giving it to you hard in his head.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t like the way your old bang buddy, Camille, looks at you. And may I remind you, you screwed her. Yet she still hangs around you every chance she gets.”

  “She’s my sister’s best friend.”

  “That’s Elizabitch’s problem. Let her hang all over her. She would cut off her right arm to have you back in her bed.”

  “What did you just call my sister?”

  Shit, in the heat of the moment, I let the secret nickname I bestowed upon his sister slip. “Elizabeth. That’s her name, isn’t it?”

  He inhales deeply, then breathes out. “I have no interest in Camille.”

  That was a close one.

  “I have no interest in Pierce and if I want to see him again, you can be damned sure I fucking will.”

  “I will not allow you to go out with someone whose only plan is to fuck you.”

  “Not allow me? Do you think you have some sort of ownership over me? Because if you do… you are sorely mistaken.”

  He clenches his teeth, his gaze darkens. “Go to your bedroom.”

  Is he out of his mind? What am I five-years-old and he’s punishing me?

  I cross my arms, shaking my head.

  “I said get in your fucking bedroom and strip off every last piece of clothing,” he growls.

  “No.”

  “This is not a request.”

  “You’re ordering me to get naked in my bedroom?”

  I know I shouldn’t feel this way but—Holy fuck. All the parts of me that should be closing down for business have flashing neon lights that say “Open 24 Hours.” Jealous Ben is infuriatingly hot and I’m a tingling mess between my legs.

  “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.” Lifting me up, he slings me over his shoulder. He grabs the cupcake on the edge of the table and carries me into my bedroom.

  “Put me down, you jackass.” I smack his ass. He smacks mine back.

&nbs
p; Sweet Lord have Mercy, there’s something so wrong about this—and I’m all in. The rational side of my brain knows he’s a colossal possessive idiot right now. But the irrational side is so turned on, all I want to do is lay there and let him go to town on me.

  No, no... I have to fight this; my lust-driven libido is clouding sanity. I must be strong and prove a point. His chest-beating caveman antics aren’t the way to solve a disagreement. He unceremoniously drops me on the bed; I look up at him, narrowing my eyes and scowl.

  God, that jealous bastard looks so hot right now.

  “I hate you,” I growl.

  “I don’t care,” he growls back, glaring down at me with a fire in his eyes as he unbuttons his shirt and drops it on the floor.

  I gaze up at him: his jaw is clenched tight, his nostrils flaring; then I stop at his crotch. Good god, he’s such a man.

  “Oh. My. God. You’re aroused! We’re fighting and you’re getting a hard-on? Are you fucking kidding me?”

  His gaze meets mine with a burning intensity. Hate? Lust? It doesn’t matter which. Sometimes they feel the same.

  “Don’t fool yourself. You want this as much as I do.”

  “I don’t want you.”

  “Yes, you do and it’s killing you because you can’t fight it as much as I can’t when you’re yelling at me, looking… well, the way you look.”

  “How do I look?”

  “Like someone who needs to be fucked. Hard. Before dinner, I planned to make love to you tonight because I love you.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I just want to fuck you… because I fucking love you.”

  I stare at him, my mouth gaping. “That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.” And in a warped way, one of the sweetest.

  Holy fuck, he is going to get it so good tonight.

  “I’m not a vessel for you to work out your irrational jealousy,” I insist, not so convincingly. Deep down, I know I crave his touch more than I want him to stop.

  He cocks his head and stares at me as calm washes over him. He saunters to the edge of the bed with a smirk. I don’t trust that smirk. What’s his game?

  “You just want to be inside me to prove something to your inflated male ego. I have no clue what,” I say, a little confused by his sudden change in demeanor.

  He kneels down on the bed, crawling over me, his smoldering dark eyes staring directly into mine.