"These things are pretty common in our industry, Cara … " he softly informed me, unperturbed.
Common in our industry. Women were paid and contracted to "entertain" their high-profile artists. Due to security and the small group of people they revolved their world in, these women came in handy to satiate their appetites without having to worry about media leaks and scandal. They were handsomely paid for their loyalty and silence.
It didn't seem foreign to him to taste such delights.
"Guess that means you're pretty experienced in this sort of thing, then?"
He had a crew of pussy posse. His personal gang bang. His band of kitty clusterfuck.
"You gave me two years to experiment. What did you expect?"
Two years of experimenting whatever type of shenanigan suited his tastes. Great. That just boosted my confidence to a record high of zero.
"How many … experiments have you had?"
"Too many to count. But I promise you, I wore protection. Every. Single. Time."
I winced. "Well, that's comforting." Not.
I had no right to be racked with jealousy, because I had made a choice two years ago. I had left him without a decency of a call, a letter, or some sort of message whatsoever. Blinded by pain and betrayal, I had vanished, disconnecting from home, and made a new life for myself, only to resurface back in his life after he recognized a billboard advertising Clover. I had no one to blame but myself.
"You can't be seriously jealous about the past. How the heck are you going to handle later?"
My friend Vodka promised to warm me up beforehand. That ought to count for something. Kells had done it without remorse, or so she had led me to believe. And there were others I knew who gleefully bragged about it. It was a new norm, and one I had yet to experience. Tonight would change that.
"What will happen later … ? What do you expect me to do, erm, during the uh, process?" I was a stuttering mess. What if River expected me to do all sorts of crazy stunts and I wouldn't be able to do it?
You can always walk away, my mind lingered on the gigantic debacle ahead, pondering if tonight was just another disaster waiting to happen.
"Don't worry; you take control of the whole thing. You get to call the shots."
That was quite a tall order for an unexperienced newbie like me. I couldn't envision barking orders for a quick orgasm.
Sweat broke out of my pores, feeling the pressure of what tonight would bring. Amidst my worry, one thought remained unanswered.
"How will this exactly help convince you to keep me?"
"I'm giving you a little taste of the illicit; that rush of thrill a person gets when they're doing something forbidden. That way, maybe you won't be tempted to open your legs to the next man who wants to fuck you."
There was a lot of undercurrent disdain underneath those words. And I felt them all. His message was loud and clear. My loyalty was in question. His trust in damnation. My place in his life was under consideration.
We were tangled in a gridlock, and the only way to break the chains was to put us under the same situation and go from there. But my mind came up with another snag.
"Are you going to be exclusively mine, or are you planning to have other women on the side?"
"You'll be the only woman I fuck, Cara." He got his bold message across without needing to use emphasis. "Why? Are you having second thoughts?"
I shook my head. "Not in the least, but I could do with a few kisses, though." To put my doubts at bay.
Chapter Twenty
River
We were in the bedroom upstairs. Stassy had just entered the room, dressed only in her short chemise. She only had eyes for one person-the woman nervously standing next to the bed-my wild Cara.
I was doing this for her, for us. I craved to tame that lecherous side of her, and I knew Stassy might not be enough to tame it, but I figured if she had a taste of the forbidden, Cara wouldn't feel so inclined to fantasize about that Spanish guy again. I could offer her that sensation, too.
I made sure Stassy understood what was required of her tonight-that this was all about Cara, and all the focus and attention would be on her. Not me. Not Stassy. We'd basically make her come so hard she would have no room for fantasies, and on the nights she found herself horny on that wretched island, she would only have to touch herself, thinking about this moment.
Stassy coquettishly smiled at Cara before taking a step, swaying her hips as she seductively dropped her robe to the floor, displaying her double Ds. She then paused, as if to check Cara's reaction, before resuming forward, voracious for her main entrée.