Page 22 of The Jellybean Dilemma

I’d turned nineteen that fall, and my parents’ annual gala was held a month later. My parents were going straight there after a meeting. Derek insisted on driving himself. Which meant that Greg would be driving me, and only me.

And I had a plan.

I spent hours finding the right dress, wanting to look as enticing as possible. I settled on a short, strapless one with a swishy skirt. The icy blue fabric matched my eyes and contrasted with my dark hair. When at last the night arrived, I was so nervous that I snuck a shot of tequila before I went outside, for liquid courage.

Greg stood next to the limo in front of my parents’ house, wearing his dimpled smile that made my knees go weak. He opened the door with a flourish, but I didn’t get in right away.

I ran my hands down my dress. “What do you think, Greg?” I made sure to lower my wrap and turn slowly in front of him. “Do you like it?” Nerves fluttered in me as hope poked her head out.

His words held a tightness I didn’t understand. “You look very nice.”

The compliment bolstered me, and it took all my courage, but I closed the distance between us. Grabbing his uniform, I stood on tiptoe and pressed my lips to his.

He reared back, flinching as if I’d hit him. “Rhonda! What are you doing?”

His glare had me feeling like an absolute idiot, and I ducked my head, whispering, “I wanted a kiss.”

“Have you been drinking?” At my nod, he said dryly, “Well, I’m flattered, but I don’t cross that line with my clients. Especially with my employer’s daughter, and definitely not when you’ve been drinking.”

Each word infuriated me. I stamped my foot, my hands clenching into fists at my side. “I am not a child, Greg. I’m nineteen.”

He scoffed. “Then act like it.”

I’d seethed the entire way to the gala. He was only six years older than me, not that much in the scheme of things. And we were both adults.

I stewed throughout the event. My parents hosted the damn thing, so I had to do my duty, sitting on stage while they gave speeches and handed out awards to deserving employees. My cheeks hurt from the fake smile I’d cemented in place, while reliving my humiliation over and over.

As soon as the ceremony had finished, I sought the refuge of my friends along with the oblivion of alcohol.

Chapter Seven

That night I met Kevin. An arrogant snob from a well-known family, he wasn’t at all my usual type. Before I knew it, we were making out, passing a bottle of tequila between us whenever we stopped to come up for air.

What I’d needed most right then was validation, and Kevin wanted me. Every time I’d crossed my legs, his eyes were glued to the movement. If I bent down, his gaze locked on my cleavage. And I had soaked up every minute.

So when his hand slid up my thigh to trace my panty line, I didn’t stop him. When he suggested we go somewhere more private, I said I knew a place. Then I led him to my limo.

I’d had sex before, and I didn’t see what all the hype was about, but I wasn’t about to ruin my attention high. Kevin’s mouth smashed into mine, pushing me against the limo as he fumbled for the handle. He managed to pry it open, and we tumbled in, a tangle of limbs. I ended up on his lap in the rear facing seat, upending the too-light bottle of tequila while he struggled with his zipper followed by a condom.

Then he was inside me. Kevin yanked down my top, baring my breasts with a greedy chuckle, but then he found his rhythm and didn’t pay them much attention. To be honest, I was already growing bored. I contemplated taking another drink when a slight movement caught my attention.

The divider was down several inches, which I hadn’t noticed until then. My gaze slid up over the reflective barrier and slammed into Greg’s wide, gray eyes.

The sight of him in my drunken state started a reaction that every other guy had failed to achieve. A ripple went through me. Suddenly it wasn’t Kevin beneath me, it wasn’t his thumb on my clit. I was riding Greg. His length slid into my most sensitive part, and I moaned, my breaths coming faster. I felt the pressure building, increasing under Greg’s disbelieving stare that never wavered. Like he couldn’t look away.

Kevin groaned beneath me, and Greg jerked back like I’d struck him. I didn’t have time to wonder about it, though, as Kevin took my nipple in his mouth. I closed my eyes. All I could see were Greg’s lips clamping over my breast, and I came, hard, mouthing Greg’s name. When I opened my eyes, Greg was gone, and Kevin had passed out beneath me.

I leapt off him, pulling up my bodice and stumbling out of the door, but Greg was nowhere to be seen. So I climbed back into the limo, on the other seat this time, and I replayed the moment in my head, the way I’d imagined it. Eventually I got cold enough that I decided to kick Kevin out, find my driver and demand to go home.

Except Greg had disappeared. I told the valet I was ready to go, then went back inside the building to wait. The scene played on repeat in my mind until my limo pulled up. My stomach turned from nerves or too much tequila, I wasn’t sure, but I braced myself for whatever I’d see in Greg’s expression as I walked down the steps.

It wasn’t him. A different person, a complete stranger in a similar uniform, waited for me. “Miss Elgin?”

I nodded, keeping several feet between us.

“Hi, I’m Barry. I drove your brother tonight. Your driver, Greg, went home ill, but he wanted to be sure you had a ride. I believe your brother texted you as well.”

Sure enough, I’d dug out my phone to find a text from Derek explaining. I had deflated like a balloon, feeling hollow and bereft. “Thank you, Barry. I’d like to go home now.”

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