It was ten am. Rachel looked helplessly at the waiter. “I'll...me, too.”
“And which vodka would you like?”
“The best one,” Charlotte said. “And your best vermouth.”
The waiter smiled and left. Rachel wondered how much this martini was going to cost.
“All vodkas are the same,” Charlotte said, her eyes on the window as if she were reminiscing. “Chemically. They are identical, did you know that? People are total fucking idiots for ordering expensive vodka.” Her eyes flicked back to Rachel's, and Rachel smiled at her. She was beginning to genuinely like Charlotte. Cautiously, the way a person “likes” a panther at the zoo. “But this is Arthur's tab. I don't even like vodka martinis that much, I just enjoy twisting the knife a little.”
Rachel gave her head a slight shake. Her mouth was open and she had no idea what to say.
Charlotte was going to be a fucking gold mine, if she was for real.
The waiter returned with two ice-cold martinis, and Rachel regretted ordering hers without an olive.
“So is it real?” Charlotte said, before she had even taken a sip of her martini, abruptly changing the subject. “The video?”
Rachel raised her eyebrows. This question seemed designed to throw Rachel for a loop.
Either that, or it was just genuine curiosity. It was hard to tell with her. Charlotte was either a jealous wife who knew everything Arthur was up to, who was scheming a revenge of her own. Or, she actually hated her husband, and she was scheming something else.
One of these possibilities was dangerous, and the other might be too helpful to be believed.
Rachel pushed aside the dumb, friendly personality she had been cultivating in advance of meeting Charlotte, who she had been so certain was a bimbo. She sipped her martini. “Of course not,” she said, in a mysterious tone.
Charlotte pulled her ponytail holder out, and her magnificently platinum hair fell into a perfect coif. She drank her own martini, and if she was surprised by Rachel's answer, she didn't let on.
Rachel's mind was on fire. She wished she had Josh here to evaluate this situation. Josh was so much more of a poker-player.
Then Charlotte really surprised Rachel by flipping her hair over her shoulder, her head leaning to one side. “Are you sleeping with Arthur?” she said pointedly.
Rachel almost choked on her martini. “What?”
Charlotte looked out the window, and squinted as though she couldn't read something. “I didn't think so,” she said, and she sounded disappointed. Then she turned quickly back to Rachel. “What do you think of Arthur?”
Rachel shook her head slightly, not knowing what else to do.
“That's what I thought. He's such a sleaze. He practically pimps you out. Of course you can't fucking stand him. What am I thinking?”
Rachel stared.
“I have a nasty prenup,” she continued, as though Rachel were an old, old friend. She brought the martini glass to her lips, sipping it like she had one every hour of every day, barely disturbing the liquid as she brought it to her lips. “And I know the bastard has his cock in every hole he can find. That's not the problem...god, better someone else than me...the problem is, I can't catch the bastard.”
Rachel was silent with shock. She actually couldn't believe her ears. This was actually – actually, literally, positively – the very best thing that could have happened to her. It was just falling into her lap.
Her eyes were wide.
Charlotte spun her glass a little, like it was wine, and then she downed the whole thing in one gulp. “I don't imagine you have any dirt on Arthur, do you?” She sighed, as if it was already a foregone conclusion that Rachel did not, and Rachel was rendered speechless by the shock of her good fortune. Then Charlotte sighed again and lifted her hand to order another drink. She looked at Rachel's, and even though it was only a quarter gone, Rachel nodded.
“You wouldn't give any thought to propositioning him, would you? I'd pay you, you know.” Charlotte gave a laugh, and it was impossible to know if she was serious or not. “Of course I'm only joking. No, I'm serious. I want out. The problem is, I've let him know it.” She was rambling. “I'm hoping to get you drunk and convince you to do terrible things. I'll tell you the truth, I almost pissed myself when you sat down next to me.” She rolled her eyes skyward. “'My salvation has come,' I was thinking.”
She flicked her nail and smiled at Rachel. “Oh, don't be afraid of me. I'm also just a lot of fun. So you have the afternoon free? Let's have more martinis and go mess with those boys at the juice bar.”
Rachel's mouth was actually hanging open now.
“I haven't shocked you too much, have I?” Charlotte continued, but not as if she cared. “Arthur really is a sonofabitch. Do not feel sorry for him. However bad it is having me for a wife, it's a million, bazillion times worse having him for a husband. I'll tell you all about it and you'll believe me.” She took a martini from a tray that materialized next to her.
Rachel was still staring. The waiter deftly set Rachel's second martini on a nearby cocktail table.
Charlotte drank her martini, unbothered by Rachel's silence.
“Charlotte,” Rachel said hoarsely, finally, and the younger woman's hungry, intelligent eyes instantly dilated with her quick knowledge that Rachel was about to say something interesting.
Rachel leaned closer to her, and the glee spinning up in Charlotte's eyes let Rachel know, without a doubt, that what she was about to do was a good idea.
Reporter's instinct.
“I have to tell you something.”
F ABULOUS NEWS
Rachel was still in her workout clothes, but from the looks of it she hadn't been working out at all. She was quite drunk, and she apologized for that as soon as she stepped through the door, in a loud voice.
Josh took in her tight black pants, and her bare midriff. She was wearing a racer-back hot pink tank top, and he knew she had been quite the sensation at the Aspen Club. Her hair bobbed in a cute ponytail, and her breasts bobbed in her running tank, pressed tight against her body.
“I have,” she declared, and she really was drunk because she was slurring and sounded more Australian than Crocodile Dundee, “the most fabulous news. You aren't even going to believe it. I don't even believe it. It all just ploppered right into my lap.”
Josh smiled.
“I know I'm drunk,” she said. “But this is all true.”
And then she crossed the room, took two beers out of the fridge, sat herself on the counter, and proceeded to tell him all about Charlotte Heller Frost. How Charlotte had gotten married to spite her father, how she had grown bored of Arthur and of this town, how Arthur had been such an incredible dick on so many occasions that Charlotte's heart had turned to ice and she now wanted nothing more than the sweet revenge of taking his money with her in a divorce. And some horse. How Charlotte had hired private investigators and Arthur had heretofore escaped her clutches, because he was an overly cautious, clever bastard. How the two of them seemed to be embroiled in an epic battle to piss the other off as much as possible and winner take all the money.
“And the horse,” Rachel added.
“So what did you tell her?” Josh said, nervously.
“I told her,” Rachel said drunkenly, happily, accentuating each word with a small thrust of the beer bottle, “that we were made for each other, because I also need to fuck Arthur over.”
“Did you say why?”
Rachel looked at the ceiling and thought about it. “I can't remember. It doesn't matter. She doesn't care. She does...she did literally everything for us. You wouldn't believe it if you saw it. 'Josh won't believe this,' is what I was thinking all afternoon.” Rachel leaned in toward Josh. “He goes to a gentleman's club,” Rachel said, in a whispery voice, putting her arms on Josh's shoulders. “He hires prozzies there and get this, Charlotte...and Charlotte, bam! Came up with a plan, and it was brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.” Rachel laughed, and took a si
p of her beer, and it spilled out over her face and made her laugh more. She wiped her mouth.
Josh stared at her. He was utterly lost. “What plan?” he said.
“It was brilliant,” Rachel said, ignoring him. “I just...can't remember what it was.”
Who was this woman? Josh opened his mouth to say something, and Rachel placed a finger over his open lips. “Don't worry,” she whispered. She lifted her other hand, and almost fell backwards as she did. In her hand was a business card. “I got her number.”
Josh took the card and looked at it.
Shiny black letters, on a very expensive paper, read:
CHARLOTTE HELLER FROST
622-8132
“It's brilliant,” Rachel repeated. Her hands dove into Josh's pants, and her fingers fluttered over the top of his cock.
Josh smiled at his wife, though a little nervously. He loved how excited she was, how thrilled she was obviously feeling to be back on the hunt of a juicy story. He loved that she was getting wilder and wilder in bed. But she made him a little uneasy.
Just for a little while, though, he thought, as her hand wrapped around his cock and she bit into his lower lip.
It only really made him uneasy for a minute or two.
Rachel pushed him backward, smiling and nibbling on his mouth. “Let's see if you can get my head cleared, how about that? Then I can tell you the plan,” she said, giggling.
So Josh went with her.
M ORE BLACKMAIL
“You have to promise me, first, you'll hear the whole thing out.”
Xavier folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head slightly. Rachel was relieved to see his was mostly amused. That was good, because what she was about to say sounded infinitely crazy, and if Xavier caught a whiff of falsity about it, there could be a real shit storm on her hands.
She took a deep breath, and reminded herself of the plan, because at this point, even she was beginning to be confused about what was what.
Josh had told her to believe that the lie she was telling was the truth, which had worked so well that she now had to think hard about what the truth was.
For Xavier, the plan was this: she would tell him that Arthur was the one who had the video. She would tell him about Charlotte, in the sense that she would tell him Charlotte was hungry to catch Arthur cheating on her. Then she would tell him about the gentleman's club and the crazy – crazy – plan that Charlotte had concocted. At the end of that plan, if all went as planned and they could keep Xavier away from Arthur, then it would appear that Rachel had blackmailed Arthur, and the video was returned to her, and everyone would be happy.
The catch of course, was that Arthur had no video, and they were actually just blackmailing him for Charlotte, and because he was an asshole who deserved it. But there was no reason that Xavier had to ever find out that detail, and if he didn't, he would believe that it was Arthur all along who had filmed them, and that his dish of cold revenge had been served. Rachel could wrap things up nicely with Xavier. The End.
There was, also, a cherry on the cake: there was quite a bit of money in it from Charlotte.
Deep, deep, down, as well, there was also something inside Rachel that liked another part of this plan. It was the excitement of the plan. The danger of it. The seedy, filthy, naughtiness of it all.
She shuddered. She was a little ashamed of herself.
This was going to be the end, she had promised herself. So she might as well enjoy it.
She placed her hands on Xavier's chest. “Okay look. I went digging, and you won't believe who did it.”
“Arthur,” Xavier said, without a moment's hesitation.
Rachel was taken aback. “What makes you say that?”
“He's a real shit. He's the only one who stands to gain from those leaked videos. It makes sense. I just couldn't prove it.”
“Well, take my word for it, it's him,” Rachel said. “I got my hands on the security...whatever it's called, and -”
Xavier gave her a grin. “How'd you do that?”
Rachel fluttered her eyes. “Anyway. I confronted him. And do you know what that asshole said?”
Xavier's face was too dark to flush, but Rachel could see him heating up. “I can only imagine what that asshole said,” he seethed.
Rachel held a hand to his lips. “Look. You promised.”
She wavered for a moment, trying to decide if she should tell Xavier about her blowjob, but decided it was too complicated to explain. She wasn't even able to explain that one to herself, or the fact that it had turned her on, or the fact that the plan they had concocted was making her feel high on her sexual power.
“So I figured: what's the one thing I absolutely don't want to do?”
“Sleep with that prick?”
Rachel shook her head. “I don't want that video on the internet. Now, Josh says there's no way to trace it back to Arthur anyway. If I go to the cops I get nothing, except that video on the internet, and I don't want that-”
“Me either.”
“Have you told Tyra?”
“She's pissed off. Yeah.” Xavier seemed to be resigning himself to the logic of not going to the police.
“So then, there's, beat the shit out of him, which is just going to end in an assault charge and probably the same thing: video on the internet, right?”
Rachel was impressing herself with her lies. Well, half-lies. Whatever they were. She moved her hands up beneath Xavier's shirt, and enjoyed the feel of his hard abs as she continued to tell her lies. It turned her on. She could feel herself getting wet. Her blood was racing and it felt like gasoline.
“So I thought: what if there was a video, of equal value to Arthur, that we could bribe him back with? What if there was something that Arthur didn't want to get out?”
Xavier was nodding, his lips pressed together. Rachel could feel his cock getting hard, and she knew it was because of her flushed, sexualized energy. She made lazy circles over his stomach.
“So I tracked down his wife. Charlotte. And she is....oh, man. She is a real piece of work. She hates him. It turns out I had to look no further than her, because she has a plan all ready for catching Arthur in the act, and all she needed was someone to help her out with it.”
Xavier grabbed her wrist. “Wait, wait, wait, Rachel...if this is going where I think it is...it's not any use. You still have to sleep with him. How's that helpful?”
This had been Rachel's initial thought as well. And to be honest, she hadn't cared. There was still the fun of dressing up, acting like a prozzie, and then sticking it to Arthur in the end. She had talked Josh into how fun it would be, and he hadn't been totally adverse to watching her screw another man both literally and figuratively.
Still, Rachel thought it best, for whatever reason, to tell a lie here. Later, she would probably end up sleeping with Arthur, and Xavier would find out, but too late for it to matter. If she played her cards right, Xavier wouldn't know about it until after all the blackmailing.
“That's the best part,” Rachel said, her voice as sticky-sweet as her dripping cunt. “I don't have to. Charlotte has an idea, and I think it will work a treat. And she's even willing to throw in some money on the side. Now,” she said, and she reached into his pants and grasped his cock. “If you want to hear it, you'll have to do something for me.”
Xavier smiled, and pushed her around in a circle and into the wall. He pressed his lips against her neck, nuzzling her and sending a chill across the back of her neck and shoulders. “Yes ma’am,” he growled. His fingers began to crawl beneath her shirt, around to the front. Rachel had worn a white t-shirt to meet him, with no bra, and she wasn't wearing any underwear beneath her tight-fitting yoga pants either.
Rachel closed her eyes to imagine the scene as though she were a voyeur of herself. She could see Xavier's hands beneath the fabric of her shirt, finding her breasts, stroking her nipples until they turned hard between his fingers and he could squeeze them until she shuddered. He slid one
hand down the back of her pants, and made a pleased murmur when his fingers plunged into her smooth, shaven folds. She was soaking wet, and his fingers were instantly drenched.
He tugged her pants down, one side at a time. He kept one hand on her breast, using the tips of his fingers to pull at her nipple gently, until it ached. His other hand dipped between her legs again, and he pinched her clit as he passed over it.
Rachel mewled, and he did it again. She pressed her ass out, against his body, eager for him to do more than just get her worked up. Xavier fanned his fingers and Rachel yelped a little as he pushed one into her ass, with no warning. The other finger stroked against the finger in her ass through the tender flesh of her cunt, and another finger caressed her swollen clit.
It took almost no time, moving his hands like this, to make Rachel howl and twist with a climax. She felt her whole body squeezing him, and her cum oozing onto her thighs.
But she wanted more. She wanted him inside of her. She wanted him to fill her, and she wanted to feel him burst and soften inside of her when he came.
She pushed her ass against him, and pushed herself back a little with her hands. Until she was nearly doubled over, like a table was beneath her and she was bent over it. She pushed her hands against the wall, her fingers splayed.
Xavier wasted no time, except to slowly draw his fingers from inside of her. He drew her cum up to lubricate her a little, dipping inside of her with first one finger, then two. He pulled on her rim, stretching it a little. It felt a bit like her wanted to pry it open and look inside, and then Rachel felt the heat of a drop of his spit landing squarely inside of her, on the flesh inside of her ass. She moaned in anticipation. Her insides were quivering with the desire to feel him fill her.
At last. He placed the tip of his cock against her eyelet, and the heat and stickiness of the head of his cock caressed her rim. She ground herself against him, trying to push back to get what she craved. But Xavier held her for a moment, one hand on her ass, teasing her. Then, very slowly, he pushed himself inside of her.
Human Interest 2: A Wife-Sharing Exposé Page 12
