Page 40 of Dirty
I tossed back the remainder of my champagne, and then I set the glass down on the table next to me. “Thank you, Felix. That’s incredibly sweet. I’m one lucky, lucky girl. The way you eat my pussy makes me lose my freaking mind. It’s a miracle I’m even capable of speech. But, honestly, all I want to do is tie you to the bed and fuck you with my tits. I love oiling them up and sliding your cock between them until you come. It’s so fucking hot.”
A waitress entered the room, carrying yet another tray filled with food. She stumbled to a halt when she saw the stunned looks on everyone’s faces. I reached out and picked up a mini kabob, taking a bite out of it. I chewed a couple of times and swallowed. “You have no idea how insane it drives me, using both my hands on your huge cock, Felix. You get so fucking hard. And when I dip down and tease the tip with my tongue…”
I held out the kabob to Felix, flashing him a triumphant smile. I’d won. I’d accepted his challenge, and I’d beaten him. “Want some?” I asked.
He slowly shook his head, a dark, high sexual energy vibrating from his body. He didn’t need to speak; I knew I’d pleased him by playing along with his game. “No thank you, Sera,” he said calmly. “The only finger foodIwant to eat tonight will be sucked clean from these,”—he held up his right hand, wiggling his fingers—“after I’ve made you come with them.”
“Goodness! What onearthdo you two think you’re doing?” A tall man with tiny, round spectacles perched on the end of his nose shoved through the crowd, throwing down his napkin onto the drink’s cart. He reminded me, weirdly, of Larry David. “Are you both sick or something? This is a Catholic wedding, not a…a…debauched night of sin at some sort of a…a…sex club!”
I burst out laughing. He’d put such a weird inflection on the words ‘sex club.’ His face had turned purple, and his cheeks were shaking with every word he spat out. I’d remembered who he was—Ben’s old college professor—and the ridiculousness of the entire situation suddenly seemed hysterical to me. A number of scandalized hisses traveled through the reception party, but I didn’t bother to seek out their outraged expressions. I was trapped, laughing so hard my stomach was hurting, and there was nothing I could do to stop myself. I was never going to stop laughing.
At least, I thought that was the case until…
“WHO THEFUCKPISSED IN MY LAMBOGHINI?!”
I stopped laughing, swiveling my head toward the entrance of the reception ballroom, and there, hands balled into fists at his side, cardigan half slipping off his shoulders, hair in disarray and sticking up in five different directions, stood Gareth Douvillier. I hadn’t looked for him during the ceremony. I hadn’t even thought about him. I’d been dreading seeing him here for weeks and weeks, and then, ironically, I’d forgotten all about him. He was fuming, his whole body visibly shaking, the tips of his ears bright crimson. Arianna tottered over to him in six-inch heels, cooing and murmuring, trying to soothe him, but Gareth pushed her away, grinding his teeth together. “I know it was you, you fucking prick. Marcosa! Where thefuckare you?!”
Marcosa? Gareth was accusing Fix of pissing in his car? Gareth had met Fix? I had no idea when that had taken place—Fix hadn’t breathed a word about it—but clearly he’d made a lasting impression.
“Did you piss in Gareth’s car?” I whispered, looking at Fix out of the corner of my eye.
“Yeah,” he whispered back. “I kinda did. Maybe we should get out of here.”
NINETEEN
TEASE
FIX
My phone was ringing. I was running, though, so I didn’t have time to answer it. I held onto Sera’s hand as we tore through the garden behind the hotel, breathing hard between bouts of laughter and trying to scream at one another. “You’re fucking insane!” Sera yelled. “Why did you do that? Gareth’s richer than god. He’s going to press charges if you don’t apologize.”
“I’m not fucking apologizing to that prick. He deserved far worse, believe me.”
“Why? What did he do?”
Ah, shit. I’d decided I wasn’t going to tell her what Gareth had said this morning. I was going to keep the whole thing to myself. “He wasn’t very nice. That’s all.”
“Fix.” Sera stopped running and pulled her hand out of mine. “What did he say?”
“He said something about not cheating on you with Arianna. And that you had a lot of baggage.”
“And what else? I know him. He wouldn’t have stopped there.”
“He said your father interfered with you when you were a kid.”
“Wow.” Sera’s brows shot up in unison. “Don’t sugar coat it, will you?”
“How else am I meant to say that?” I shrugged. “Would you prefer it if I hugged you? Stroked your hair and danced around it, cooing in your ear until I finally spat it out?Sera, I’m so sorry… He said you and father… Well…and I don’t want to offend you, but… Everything’s okay, I promise… This is a safe space, but… Gareth said your father might have…” I took out my pack of smokes and lit one. “Which version’s better?” I asked, gripping the cigarette between my teeth as I slid the pack into my back pocket.
Sera held out her hand. “Give me one of those.”
“Why? You smoke all of a sudden?”
“Just give me one, asshole.”
I gave her the cigarette I’d already lit. There was something so fucking sexy about watching her put her lips around the filter. Highly sexual. Sera exhaled a cloud of smoke, scowling at me. “Fair enough. You’re right. I’d fucking hate it if you tried to baby me. I guess I’m just not used to people spitting it out like that.”
I didn’t ask her the question that was burning in the back of my mind: did her father actually do it? If she wanted to tell me, she’d tell me in her own time. Sera hadn’t really offered up much about herself to me at all, and I wasn’t one to wheedle information out of people unless they were willing to give it. I could blame hours spent sitting in a confessional booth for that. “Shoot from the hip, remember,” I said, extending my fingers, gesturing that I wanted the smoke back. She returned it.
