Sean: Quintessence The Sequel: Part IV

by Akeroyd, Serena

  If there was ever a sight to make any woman’s ovaries quiver, it was that.

  “The car’s here,” Sean called out, and she turned and saw him standing in the doorway, his phone in his hand. When he saw her, he gritted his teeth, his eyes aflame as were Andrei’s, then he cut a look at Tin, cleared his throat and stepped back.

  Amused and feeling hornier than ever, she cleared her throat and said, “Tin, I’ll see you in the morning. Daddies, behave.”

  Devon and Andrei rolled their eyes. “I think we can manage.”

  “You two can make or break economies.” She winked at Andrei. “God only knows what happens when I’m not here to check up on you.”

  He snorted, then stepped over to kiss her goodnight. “I want to fuck you.”

  She cocked a brow at him. “Get in line.”

  He grunted, slipped her his tongue this time, then pulled back with a growled, “Go on. The sooner you get back, the sooner I can get you out of this dress.”

  Amused, she bit her bottom lip then strode out of the lounge of their hotel suite and into the hall. Sean was waiting there for her in his tux and camel-colored overcoat. He looked divine, like James Bond or something, and being surrounded by three hunks in tuxes definitely put her in a good mood.

  The drive to the event happened mostly in silence. She knew why. They were all putting their game faces on. This was a party for the Press, and Kurt was now the guest of honor alongside Dreyford and the director, David Masterson. They were attending as his support system but intended to mostly stay in the background. Well, Sawyer and Sean did.

  Considering they hated these kinds of parties, it was only natural that they needed these quiet moments to prepare themselves for what was to come.

  It didn’t help that she’d see that bitch soon, either.

  As they pulled up outside the large hotel where the event was being held, she saw there was a red carpet and a line of Press that weren’t allowed inside.

  Kurt was big news in Germany, and his mother’s death was equally as big. They hung back as he strode down the red carpet after a valet opened their door, and when he was done, the driver took off and deposited the three of them at the back entrance where Kurt had made arrangements for them earlier that day.

  They didn’t want the spotlight, and walking in via that red carpet only invited it.

  Sneaking inside was more fun than the party would probably be. She enjoyed the subterfuge of sneaking into the party through the kitchen, with a bunch of hotel security keeping them separate from the kitchen staff.

  Entering the event, she passed her coat over, as did her men, to the guards, and then she turned to face the crowd. When she did, she winced, seeing that it was going to be as boring as she feared. The lights were dim and candles glowed, but that was about as intimate as it got. The cavernous space contained over five hundred people. Gilt-edged moldings ran around the perimeter of the ceiling, with antique paneling decorating each wall and beautiful parquetry that was being destroyed by the female guests’ high heels. The hall was blood red in color which made the shadows gloomier, and when she caught sight of Kurt and saw Jennifer-fucking-Houghton on his arm, she saw red, the same color as the damn walls, as anger overwhelmed her until she forced herself to calm down.

  She wasn’t sure why she kept getting so jealous recently. First with Jane and then with this bitch? It wasn’t like her, but she figured it was to do with her emotions being all over the place, her hormones too. Plus, there was the vague insecurity of knowing that to the public, her men weren’t taken and were very much available on the ‘market.’

  Still, there was nothing to be done. Nothing she could do about that, so there was very little point in fretting. What she did instead was grab a champagne flute the second a waiter passed her and chugged it down.

  The bubbles made her want to sneeze, and Sawyer’s chuckle had a similar effect on her eardrums—except she wanted to slap him rather than sneeze. “He doesn’t even like her.”

  “Like who?” she countered, making Sean snort.

  “You’re far too transparent for all that,” he chided, making her narrow her eyes at him in warning.

  He just cocked a brow at her, a warning in and of itself that reminded her if she snarked at him too much, she’d end up over his knee, but fuck if that didn’t seem like a nice place to be right this second.

  Grunting, she reached for another flute but she took her time with that, and murmured, “I’m hungry.”

  Sawyer chuckled. “Our rules worked, at least.” He rubbed her stomach. “Your appetite seems to have returned.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Is that a complaint?” she demanded, throwing his earlier words back at him.

  He growled and dropped his mouth to her ear. After he sucked on the lobe, sending shivers down her spine, he grated out, “It’s the exact opposite. I like to have something to hold on to when I’m fucking you, lass. Don’t rob a man of his curves.”

  She rolled her lips inward to hide her smile and decided then and there to stop being a stuck-up bitch. It wasn’t Sean and Sawyer’s fault that she was over here in this corner. They were too. Kurt wanted them there for support, and that was what they’d do. What they’d be.

  He’d had it rough these past few days. His mother had died, and even if he insisted that he wasn’t upset, she knew he had to be feeling something. Whether it was regret for how their relationship should have been, or anger for how little they’d known each other, she didn’t believe he was simply ‘okay.’

  Relieved when a waitress appeared with a tray of canapés that wouldn’t fill a canary, she sighed and picked up three, ignoring the surprised look on the woman’s face at her ‘greed,’ she watched as Sawyer and Sean took some too, only they didn’t eat theirs. They handed her them after she’d finished her own.

  Beaming at them in thanks, they grinned back at her and returned to their champagne. After a while of staring out into the crowd, she grew bored enough to ask, “Should we dance?”

  Sawyer grabbed her hand and murmured, “Thought you’d never ask.”

  Surprised he was the one to grab her, having expected Sean would want a turn first, she tumbled into his arms.

  “Thought you hated dancing.”

  “I do, but it’s the only way I can have my cock against your belly so I’ll take it.”

  She snickered and murmured, “Do I look so different tonight?”

  “You look hot as fuck,” he told her, then he reached up and cupped her chin. “But it’s your eyes that are different.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re coming back to us, love,” he answered softly, staring down into her gaze with a tenderness that made her mush.

  Sascha wanted to lie but couldn’t. She couldn’t say that she didn’t have a damn clue what he was talking about, because she did. Even though they’d always had her back, she’d been feeling lost until recently. Now? They’d found her, or she’d found them. She wasn’t sure which and she wasn’t about to argue.

  Releasing a sigh, she pressed her face into him and let him use this slow dance as an excuse to rub his cock against her belly. The move made her wet, but that was her usual state of being around her men.

  With a grunt, his hand slipped down to her ass and he drew her closer into his embrace.

  “Sawyer,” she warned. “Not in public.”

  He ignored her, of course, and she didn’t mind because the place was teeming. No one could see. Not really.

  The evening carried on in that vein.

  First Sawyer, then Sean. The two of them danced her until her feet started to hurt, but being in their arms, standing so close to them? God, it felt good.

  It was both innocent and enticing, and the mixture of the two stirred her blood something fierce.

  The night wore on and the atmosphere changed with it as people grew drunk. A DJ appeared and the beat changed, the room darkened and she preferred the shadows because it meant when Sean and Saw
yer held her close, they could get a little more creative with their hold on her.

  Her dress was fastened with a large zipper that ran down the central seam of her dress. Sean, on the premise of leaning down to fasten his shoe, reached for the zipper and dragged it up so that when he hauled her into his arms next, she could spread her legs with a little more ease.

  He pushed his knee between hers and she moaned, hiding her face, as her pussy rubbed against his inner thigh.

  She felt hot and needy, wanting them both, yet loving how public this was and yet how safe too.

  As Sean spun her out of his arms, it was then that she saw Kurt. With Jennifer Houghton. Again.

  The way the two of her men had ramped her up, it wasn’t a surprise that her mood dropped from the soaring heights they’d taken her to when she saw her lover and that bitch dancing.

  Kurt stood stiffly. His shoulders ramrod straight and his face—well, it didn’t look aroused, just pained. If anyone knew the difference, it was Sascha. But it was Jennifer that pissed her off. She had her hands on Kurt’s ass. Underneath his tux jacket.

  It was like a red rag to a bull, and even as she stormed over to them, she felt Sawyer collect her in his arms and keep her there, making her dance as he tried to draw her away from Kurt and that bitch.

  It worked.

  But she fumed.

  Keeping her eye on her man, she watched as he danced with three more women until Jennifer threw herself at him again. This time, she’d done something to her dress. The sweetheart neckline looked perilously close to falling down and her tits were on the brink of spilling out. Whether she was drunk or not, Sascha wasn’t sure, but she watched as Jennifer reached up and slipped her fingers through Kurt’s as she lifted their arms before twirling around in a move that Sascha had pulled on the dance floor herself.

  But this time, Jennifer’s tits fell out of her dress and she pushed herself into Kurt all on the premise of shielding herself.

  She saw Kurt’s surprise, wasn’t even concerned about him, but the primal urge to make a claim on him, to stamp on her territory roared through her veins.

  Slipping out of Sean’s arms, she stormed over to her lover and dragged Jennifer away from him with her hair.

  “Cover yourself,” she spat, hissing the words at the woman who yelped as Sascha tightened her fist about Jennifer’s hair.

  “Who the hell are you?” Jennifer cried, her words too low to be heard over the music, but the way she moved as she covered her tits drew a few eyes their way.

  “I’m Kurt’s woman,” she snarled. “If I see you drooling over him, flaunting yourself at him again, I’ll make you grateful to get a bit part in a Z-list zombie movie.”

  “Who the fuck are y—” Jennifer’s mouth dropped as a strobe light flashed over them, exposing Sascha’s face. Jennifer blanched and Sascha, for the first time in her life, was grateful to be Sascha Dubois, ‘The Right Honorable,’ billionaire heiress.

  If she wanted to, she could destroy this tart’s career, and there was nothing more satisfying than Jennifer knowing it.

  Jennifer reached down and rearranged her neckline before storming off, her head arched with her nose in the air.

  Kurt’s hands appeared on her hips and he laughed in her ear. “That shouldn’t have been as hot as it was,” he mocked.

  She stiffened. “You liked her drooling all over you?”

  He snorted. “No. I liked you dragging her off by her hair. How very cavewoman of you.”

  Sascha grumbled, “When she did that with her tits, it was the final straw.”

  Kurt rubbed his nose along her hairline. “I only want you, Sascha.”

  That had her huffing. “I know that, Kurt.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  She shrugged. “The rest of the world doesn’t know it too.”

  When he hummed, she rested against him, understanding that he had no words for her, no words that would make this better. They were in the same boat, after all. None of them could claim the other, and in this, they were all stunted. All unable to make any formal declarations, and though Sascha never felt the lack of a wedding ring, she did sometimes. At moments like this in particular.

  With a sigh, she pressed her face into Kurt’s shoulder and for the first time that evening, danced with him.

  It felt good.

  Wonderful, in fact.

  She sighed, finally able to be calm—even as stupidly irrational as it was.

  Kurt danced with her four more times until he murmured in her ear, “I think we can get out of here now.”

  Nodding, she replied, “Okay.”

  He guided her toward Sean and Sawyer, then squeezed her hand and retreated with only a glance.

  Sawyer curved his arm around her waist as he guided her toward the kitchen like the dirty little secret she was, and they headed out toward the exit where they’d arrived earlier.

  Their car waited for them—either the chauffeur had been parked there all evening, or Sean had called him and put him on alert.

  The driver stood there with their coats and after they wrapped up in them, they headed into the limo’s cab.

  She pressed her face into Sawyer’s side when he’d curved his arm about her shoulder, and stiffened when he asked, “It’s not like you to be jealous.”

  “Didn’t you see her flash him?” she growled.

  “Aye, I did, but you know he’s not interested.”

  “It was beyond a joke! Who does that? For God’s sake, we were at a press party!”

  Sean hummed under his breath. “That’s not the underlying issue, though, is it?”

  She tensed, then firmed her jaw. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “No? Well, tough, because we do,” Sean retorted, but before he could, she had a reprieve as the car pulled up at the front of the hotel. A valet opened the door for Kurt to climb inside, and the minute he was in, they drove off, back to their hotel.

  She could feel her men’s disapproval and disappointment and it pissed her off all the more.

  Why didn’t they get it?

  If a guy came onto her, right in front of their faces, if he’d shoved his hands down her dress or cupped her ass, they’d have done more than pull the bitch off by her hair. They’d have gotten into a fucking fistfight.

  She said as much, snarling, “If any man put his hands on me, I don’t think you’d be smiling. Not unless you’d caved in his front teeth. And the only reason they don’t is because I don’t put myself out there. I don’t let that happen to me.”

  “You think I let her do that? Did I look like I was having a good time?” Kurt retorted, for the first time sounding aggravated.

  “Did you push her away? No.” She reached up and tugged off her earrings and dumped them in her purse, grateful for the lack of the pinch on her earlobe.

  “I was just trying to be polite.”

  “She had her hands on your ass, and she flashed you, Kurt. How polite do you think you need to be in that situation?” She shot him a dark smile. “Maybe I’ll go dancing tomorrow and flash my tits at some random guy… that’ll help you understand how I feel.”

  Sawyer growled under his breath. “What the hell’s going on with you, Sascha?”

  “If you can’t get it, then you’re all fucking stupid. Geniuses, my ass,” she snapped. “I get that you’re all too big for this world, too smart for the regular shit that goes on, but if you don’t get that some slut wanted her hands on my man just to fuck her way into a bigger role in his film, then you’re seriously too stupid to live.

  “And don’t you dare try to put this on me as if I’m being jealous. Wasn’t I right about Jane? I heard you talking to that detective you work with, Sean. I’ll admit to listening to your conversation because I know how it works—you’ll only tell me as much as you think I need to know. And what you’d always keep me in the dark about is the fact she initially hung around to figure out what you knew, but stuck with us because she’d fallen for Andrei.
>
  “I’m not blind, nor am I deaf or dumb. You five are some of the hottest men I’ve ever come across. You’re intelligent, sometimes, and you’re rich. You’re all powerful too. You’re like the trifecta of what every woman wants, and there are five of you. So every woman out there who knows of you think she has five chances to hook a rich motherfucking Adonis, because she doesn’t know you’re tied to me.

  “And guess what, I’m okay with that. I get it. I do. We can’t say shit without drawing a whole heap of crap on our heads, but if you could try to understand the situation from my point of view, I’d appreciate it.”

  Silence fell after the storm of her words, and Sawyer broke it with, “Is that true, Sean? About Jane and Andrei?”

  Sean sighed and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Unfortunately, she’s right. I don’t appreciate you eavesdropping—”

  “Don’t even go there,” she snapped. “I could give a fuck about your usual conversations, but when I heard you talking about Jane? I listened in.”

  Sawyer reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers. “What will make you feel better?”

  She tensed, her teeth clenching as she heard the conciliatory tone and knew he wanted to help, but the fuck of it all was they could do nothing.

  Change nothing.

  Gulping down a deep breath, she whispered, “Thank you, Sawyer, but there’s nothing to do. Not really. Just don’t dismiss my feelings as irrational jealousy, okay? I’m not a lunatic. I don’t see shit for the fun of it. Jennifer Houghton made a fool out of herself tonight, but I did too because Kurt didn’t listen to me the last time we met up. And when we did meet up, Dreyford was coming onto me so hard, but what did I do this evening? I stayed the hell away from him because I knew he’d pull something too.

  “Just treat me with consideration, the same as I do you,” she said softly, then she pulled away from him and slipped over to the other side of the limo so she could stare out at the roads.

  It was an uneasy quiet that settled among them, but she was okay with that. It wasn’t how she’d anticipated the evening ending, but neither had she thought she’d see another woman’s tits—who even did that? How desperate did Jennifer have to be for her few scenes to be doubled thanks to the casting couch?