by Stella Rhys
“Fuck!” he growled, thrusting his fingers through his hair.
“Sh!” I hissed desperately, panicked as I waited for Jackson to stir. But in the sudden quiet of the room, I could still make out the sound of his snoring. I stared frantically at Jake, waiting for him to say something, waiting for eye contact so I could apologize for what I’d just done. What was I thinking? We weren’t supposed to look at or touch each other in that way again. Ever.
But instead of meeting my gaze, Jake cursed and tore off his shirt. He didn’t so much as glance my way before pushing through the bathroom door.
Upstairs in my room, after my pulse returned to normal, I lay alone in bed. Rubbing over my panties, I closed my eyes, hating myself as I imagined Jake in the shower, the lined muscles in his forearms twitching as he jerked off the hot, pulsing erection I’d given him.
Chapter Seventeen
“I’m getting the feeling you don’t like this one very much.” The calligrapher recommended to me by Sofie Winter put away the beautiful, matte wedding invitation in her hands, plucking another with her perfectly manicured fingers.
“No, I do,” I insisted, flustered. “It’s beautiful. I’m sorry if I looked distracted.”
“It’s okay,” she gave me a knowing smile. “Your mind’s just everywhere, isn’t it? You know mommy brain? Well there’s bride brain, too, sweetie, and I think you have it,” she giggled. “Just means you’ve got too many things going on with the planning and while you’re at the florist’s, you’re thinking about the dress, and while you’re at the fitting, you’re thinking about catering. It’s totally natural.”
It probably was but I didn’t have bride brain on this particular morning in Gramercy Park. I had a fiancé who refused to have sex with me.
That morning, Jackson had joined me in the shower. He’d opened the door, letting me rinse the shampoo from my hair as I watched him peel his dirty clothes off. “I’m sorry for last night,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my lips when he got in. “I don’t remember it that well but I know you had to be pretty rightfully pissed.”
Feeling guilty myself, I had easily accepted his apology and lathered him up with soap, running my hands down his sides and forcing his arms up. He held them folded behind his head, watching with a lazy grin as I lowered myself to my knees, my palms sliding down to his thighs. I rubbed a slow, gentle massage onto his legs, feeling his muscles twitch as I let my warm breath tease his hardening cock.
But the second I brushed my lips against his helmet, he winced. “Lara,” he stepped back. “No.”
I blinked at him with utter confusion. He’d never declined sex once in our four years together. I frowned hard. “What?”
“I can’t. Not till you’re done with what you have to do. I just… can’t.”
“Are you serious? Jackson, please, let’s just forget that. It doesn’t have to be three times. I did it once and that was enough.”
Jackson rested his forehead against mine. “You say that now but you don’t realize how much it fucking hurts when you throw what I did back at me.”
I pulled away, eyes wide with surprise. “Jackson, I know hurt.”
“This is what I mean. That’s you throwing it back at me.”
“What, I’m supposed to pretend this never happened?” The hot water beat down on me as I stared incredulously.
“I want us to do something as close as possible to that, Lara, yes. Is that crazy? I want us to forget what happened and leave it all behind and if it takes you fucking whoever it was two more times, then fine. If that’s the price I have to pay until you understand that what I did meant nothing, and that I’ll always love you, then great. Perfect. I’ll pay that price.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. I was being told by my fiancé to sleep with someone else, twice more, before he would have sex with me again. I was so astonished I couldn’t speak, wordlessly moving aside for him as he stepped under the shower, letting the water rain down his wide shoulders. I could tell that he was annoyed with my stunned silence but I couldn’t think of anything to say.
He was the one who eventually ended the quiet, turning off the showerhead and pushing open the door. “Just make sure it’s the same fucking guy. I’d rather you keep it to a minimum,” he muttered before getting out.
His words echoed in my head as the calligrapher turned to me with a sympathetic look. “Why don’t we reschedule for another time, sweetheart? Maybe you should use the rest of the day to relax – go to the spa, get a massage, turn off your phone. You know.”
I cocked my head as she glanced down at my phone. The large screen was packed full with notifications – missed calls and text messages from mostly Sloane and the girls. I blinked back up at her. “Was that ringing the whole time?”
“It was.”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t even notice.”
“Bride brain.”
Sure. “Yes. Right. Let’s reschedule then. I’m so sorry if I wasted your time today.”
“Don’t worry, sweetie. You’re a bride and you’re having your wedding in New York. If you think it’s crazy now, just wait till you get closer to the day. The madness just doesn’t stop!”
As I left the boutique, I prayed that she was wrong about that. I needed the madness to stop. I needed to just tell Jackson that I’d gotten the deal over with and that we could just be us again. Because sleeping with Jake for a second time would be dangerous. I knew this and I was fiercely determined not to let it happen again. I needed to wane myself off of him. I needed to find a way to nix my attraction.
Or at the very least, bring it down enough that I would never again touch myself to the thought of him, all the while laying in his brother’s bed.
Chapter Eighteen
On Friday, Jackson invited all our friends to Buccieri for an extravagant celebration of Jake’s return. I bought a special dress for the occasion – something I knew that Jackson wouldn’t be able to resist. I needed him back tonight, to quell the desperation that had been pulsing between my legs for days. I needed to feel his weight on top of me again. Most of all, I needed to remember him and forget Jake.
So I wore an ultra-short lace number – skintight, strapless and just a half-shade lighter than the color of my skin. I looked naked and I knew it was racy. But racy was what I needed. Not only would it stun Jackson, it would command the eyes of his friends. I knew my fiancé – half his arousal came from the fact that he was envied, that he had what others wanted. It was strange, borderline fucked up, but it was something I accepted by now.
And tonight, it was something I could use to my advantage.
“Oh. My. God.” Sloane dropped her studded clutch when the elevator door opened for her to step into my apartment. I had told Jackson to go first and make sure everything looked right, and that I’d meet him later with Sloane. In reality, I just wanted to make a grand entrance. I tried not to think about the fact that I was doing it at Jake’s welcome back party.
“Yeah…” I grinned excitedly as Sloane eyed me from head to toe, her heels clicking toward me slowly as she pretended to be floored. Or maybe she wasn’t pretending.
“Lara, what the hell! You look like you should be on the cover of Maxim!” she’s squealed. “You do realize you look way too sexy right now, right? Can we like, oil up your skin and give you sex hair?”
I burst out laughing. “Sloane, no.” I touched my ballerina topknot. “I need to keep my hair classy to offset the total vamp dress.”
“Yes, true. Good thinking. So what shoes are you wearing?” she asked curiously, her lake blue eyes widening. When I broke into a devilish grin, her jaw dropped and she bounced on her toes giddily. “Oh my god. You’re going to bust out the magic shoes.”
She was right. The magic shoes were black, suede thigh-high boots with a six-inch wedge heel. They hugged my legs and reached well above the middle of my thigh. I had bought them with Sloane last year in Paris, while we were shopping for Valentine’s Day lingerie. I’d worn them that nig
ht in our suite, with strappy black lingerie and garters. I’d sauntered down the stairs to surprise Jackson as he sat on the couch. He was in a lazy, post-dinner content but he shot straight up the second he saw me, studying my body in awe for a minute, as if regarding a rare piece of artwork at the Louvre. But then he grabbed me tight, kissing my neck as he carried me to the floor-to-ceiling window. “You’re so fucking sexy,” he rasped in my ear as he unzipped his pants and freed his cock. “I have to show you off, baby. I fucking have to.”
And so he did, thrusting my half-naked body against a window overlooking the sidewalk. I would never do it again in my life, but it was easily the hottest, most exhilarating sex I’d ever had.
Since that night, the boots had gone unworn. It wasn’t because I was saving them for another special occasion though – it was mostly because they were so long that I didn’t own anything short enough to show them off. They started five inches below my crotch and most of my dresses ended there.
But not the one I was set to wear tonight.
Sloane gasped for a full ten seconds when I finally brought out the boots. A rush of excitement prickled my skin as I pulled the zipper smoothly up from the arch of my foot to the upper middle of my inner thigh. When I stood up straight to gaze into the mirror, I had to laugh with Sloane at the ridiculous amount of sex the ensemble oozed. There were barely three inches of exposed skin on my legs. From afar, it looked like I was wearing only a pair of boots.
Sloane shook her head. “You two are going to have sex at the party, aren’t you?”
My lips twisted into a grin as I grabbed my clutch. “That’s the plan.”
Chapter Nineteen
Buccieri’s second floor lounge was a cozy little spot with candlelit tables, leather booths and tufted walls. There was something undeniably sultry about the room and I always loved sitting there, sipping champagne cocktails and luxuriating in the sounds of my favorite songs by Nina Simone. They drifted through the air as I laughed with Sloane and occasionally caught Jackson’s eye from across the room, where he and the boys discussed whatever it was that they discussed.
I couldn’t wait to do exactly that tonight – give Jackson bedroom eyes from afar, cross and uncross my legs, do all the things that always forced him to excuse himself from his friends and take me elsewhere for a private moment.
But I didn’t spot him right away when I got to the second floor.
“Fuckin’ fuck,” Sawyer groaned when he saw me first. He thrust his fingers into his coiffed hair, ruining it. “Lara. Babe. Fuck,” he said as if it were a real sentence. He was speechless as I kissed his cheek and stood there as more of Jackson and my friends came to greet me.
“Oh my God, Lara,” Emily Rocha gasped, gesturing at my dress before giggling and whispering in my ear. “Piper’s putting the moves on Jake right now and he’s totally not into it. It’s hilarious! Come say hi with me so you can see.”
Before I could say no, she dragged my arm, pulling me to the circle booth at the very back of the room. There, I saw Piper kneeling in her leather mini dress, two teasing fingertips trailing up to Jake’s package as she whispered in his ear. He stared ahead, a lowball of scotch in his left hand and a sexy, crooked laugh on his lips. “Not into it” didn’t seem like the most accurate description.
Still, Emily tossed me a “how funny!” look before clearing her throat. “Excuse us, Piper. The man of the hour needs to say hello to his future sister-in-law.”
Act normal, I braced myself.
But the second Jake looked at me, the room stood still. The laughter and music floated from my ears and all I could hear was my own pulse as he stared at me with a lust so instant I feared Emily and Piper would know – that the air would give us away, growing instantly thick with the energy of two people who weren’t supposed to have had sex.
But their banter was what brought me back to Earth. “Couldn’t you see that we were talking?” Piper asked Emily, who shot back with something I didn’t hear because Jake was standing up.
“Always good to see you, Lara.” His voice was convincingly casual. My body was hot as he leaned forward, one hand on my waist as he kissed my cheek. “You look beautiful as always,” he said, his eyes boring into mine.
“Thank you,” I murmured as I took in the sight of his athletic body in formalwear. He looked torturously good in a dark grey button up and black skinny tie – like he belonged on the red carpet. “You look very handsome yourself,” I offered quietly, a shiver rippling up the length of my spine as Jake leaned back on his heels, still taking me in. He’d yet to take his emerald eyes off of me. But then again, I couldn’t stop staring at him either. The air was thick. Tense.
But to my surprise, we cracked a smile at the same time.
Thank you, Rocha sisters. They were still bickering ridiculously but I was grateful for the comic relief. I hadn’t spoken to Jake since a couple nights ago, when we’d done whatever it was we’d done in the guest bedroom. I hadn’t been sure of how he’d act around me tonight but thus far, things were looking amicable at the very least.
“Nice boots,” he gave me a small but dimpled smile. Taking a step back, he eyed my outfit, his stare so intense that I swore it could peel off my dress and panties right there. “Has Jackson seen you yet?” he asked, shaking his head a little. I wasn’t sure what that meant but even the way he did that was sexy.
“Oh God!” Emily gasped suddenly. “Lara. Has your man not seen you in this outfit yet? Let’s go find him! I have to see his reaction!”
“Perfect. Go do that while we continue the conversation you so rudely interrupted,” Piper drawled, tugging on Jake’s hand.
“Forgive me, I’m actually going to go say hi to my brother,” Jake said smoothly to her glossy, pouted lips. “I’ve barely seen him since coming in.”
I cocked my head at Jake as he headed away with me. Just in time, Emily’s boyfriend came to whisk her away, giving me a second alone with him. “What’s Jackson been doing?” I asked curiously, having expected that he’d be at Jake’s side the whole night. My heart beat fast as I watched Jake’s lips purse into a straight line.
“That’s what I wanted to warn you about.”
My heart fell into my stomach. What? Was it something about Gabrielle? The Winters?
“I’m sorry – I don’t know how, but my stepsister found out about the party and she’s here tonight,” Jake revealed to my surprise.
“Oh.” My eyes fluttered, unsure of what this news even meant. “I… thought she lived in Los Angeles?”
“She does. But Jackson and I had dinner with my mom a few days ago and I have a feeling she told Audra about tonight.”
A million different questions swirled through my head. Your mom and Audra still talk? Is Audra better now? She was in rehab at some point, right? What exactly happened between you two? But I didn’t know which question to ask first and I was fairly certain that half of them were beyond rude. So I didn’t give away the fact that I knew nothing about the mysterious Audra as Jake led me up the last flight of stairs in Buccieri, to the private little mezzanine that was big enough for just one table.
My eyebrows jumped halfway to my hairline when I reached that very table.
Sitting there was Jackson, joined by a slender but unbelievably buxom girl with eyes so light I could hardly see anything but pupil. I was so startled by her appearance that it took me a second to notice her tanned leg entwined with Jackson’s, her heeled foot rubbing the side of his ankle.
“Audra,” Jake’s firm voice broke her away from him.
What. The fuck. I stared at Jackson, waiting for him to notice me.
“Babe,” his eyes widened when he spotted me. Unblinking, he rose to his feet, gravitating straight to me as if I possessed some magnetic pull. “Holy fuckin’ shit, babe,” he breathed, looking down at my body. His eyes gleamed when he looked back up at me, as if he’d just won the jackpot at a casino. “I remember these boots,” he grinned, running his hands from my waist to my back, th
en down to my ass. As he grabbed two handfuls, I could see Jake look away.
Irritated, I removed Jackson’s hands from me. “Jackson, aren’t you going to introduce me to your stepsister?” I asked, trying to stress the word “sister.” Jackson blinked.
“Uh, yeah. Of course,” he answered hastily, as if he’d completely forgotten that she was there. When he stepped aside, she gave me a wry smile and wiggled a few bejeweled fingers at me. I guessed that it was her version of waving. “Audra, this is Lara,” Jackson said. “My fiancée.”
“Nice to meet you. Audra,” Audra said before whipping out her cell phone and going straight back to her drink. Apparently, that was it for introductions. I flashed a look at Jackson. He was unfazed so I turned to Jake, who shared in my confusion. Glaring at Audra, his jaw flexed.
“That it?” he asked.
She peered up from her phone and simpered at him. No reply. With that, I took Jackson’s hand. “Can I speak to you for a second?”
He blinked at me. “Sure. Jake, can you take Audra downstairs?”
I watched Audra resist for a second before smirking and following Jake down the stairs. Once they were gone, I tilted my head slowly at Jackson. “What was that just now?”
“What was what? Lara, Christ, this dress – ”
“We’re not talking about my dress right now,” I snapped. “I just walked up here to find you playing footsies with your stepsister, who, by the way, I’ve never met once before in our four years together. I wasn’t even under the impression that you were on good terms with her but now she springs up out of nowhere, we barely get introduced and you’re acting like it’s not strange that she was all over you.”
“What? Christ, Lara, she was hardly all over – ”
