Page 35 of Devoured By You
Come on, Jill. This was supposed to be a vacation, not a funeral. Save that for the disaster of a book you’ve penned.
I downed half the cosmo. “Let’s get this party started.”
Kelsey linked arms with me, and we strolled onto the balcony, where most of the party guests had gathered. Raya took one look at my face, read me as easily as a large-print paperback, and gave me a comforting squeeze.
“Plenty more fish in the sea,” she whispered.
“And you’ve amassed quite the shoal, it seems.”
She giggled. “Don’t blame me. This is all Addison.”
“Color me shocked.”
I ended up in conversation with a guy called Greg, a midthirties stockbroker from New York. I tried to look interested in the conversation, but between his constant jabbering about yields and return on investment and checking my phone in case Blay had messaged me to come rescue him from the wicked witch, I failed miserably. Meanwhile, Greg was oblivious to my drifting attention, but when he moved on to bear markets and bid-ask spread, I feigned a yawn.
“Sorry, it’s been a long day. Would you excuse me?”
I turned to join another group. He clasped my elbow. “Where you going, sweetcheeks?”
Sweetcheeks?
“Um, a refill.” I brandished my almost empty martini glass.
“Allow me.” Before I could protest, he took the glass from me, gripped my hand, and led me inside. When I tried to wrestle my hand from his, he held on tighter, almost crushing my fingers.
“Would you mind letting go?” I asked as politely as I could muster.
“I’m never letting you go, sweetcheeks.” He leered at me. I responded with one of my renowned cold stares.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to insist.”
“Aw, come on, baby.” He put down my glass, leaving his other hand free, which he wasted no time in slipping around my waist. “I only want to have some fun.”
I scanned around for my girls. Addison had her tongue down her captive’s throat, and Kelsey and Raya were in the middle of a group of guys, their backs to me. Great. Down to me, then. This joker didn’t worry me, though. It wasn’t as if I were in any danger, not with a room filled with people, three of whom would cut off this guy’s balls if he didn’t play nicely.
“Have it someplace else.” I freed my hand at the second attempt, and as tactfully as I could, I removed his other hand from my waist.
“Are you with someone? Is that why you’re not interested?” He accompanied his inappropriate question with a pout. Jesus. We’d only met, like, ten minutes ago.
“No, I’m not with anyone.” Even though I wished I were. If Scarlett Rose hadn’t turned up when she had, I’d be naked with Blay right this second. Disappointment flooded my tongue, and it tasted like fermented eggs. What was it with guys? They were either hard to pin down or all over me like an acute case of the measles. “And I’m not interested because you’re not my type.”
“Oh yeah? Who is your type?”
An image of Blay flashed before me, his head between my legs, his mischievous smirk as he’d tied me to the bed with the belt from a robe. The sheepish, apologetic expression when he’d discovered his cousin had found me naked and restrained. The hesitancy and worry that had appeared briefly when he’d talked about the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, showing a vulnerability that I’d wager was a rarity for a man like him.
Why hadn’t he at least texted me?
“Someone who knows how to take no for an answer.” I smiled sweetly.
“There’s no need to be a bitch. I’m only trying to be friendly.”
Okay, now this jerk was pissing me off. I crossed my arms.
“First of all, call me a bitch again and you’ll leave here with your dick in a sling. And second, no, you’re not being friendly. You’re harassing me.”
“Harassing you?” He sneered. “Maybe you shouldn’t use words you don’t understand, sweetcheeks.”
Ohhh. That did it. I marched over to the door and wrenched it open. “Out.”