A Betty's Pledge: Volume One (8 page)

“I can see that,” Adam stated, glancing over in the direction of the man sitting under
the tree.

I didn’t follow his gaze, not wanting to acknowledge the fact that Adam had obviously
witnessed our little flirting war we had going on, for it seemed so childish when
we were surrounded in an environment bred for blatant sexual prowess.

“You know, my dear, I always looked at the time I was a Grant as a privilege not many
get out there among the throngs of the . . . how should I put it . . . horny cesspool?”

I laughed outright at his words, causing him to chuckle in response. “This program
may seem a little crass at first, but in all honestly, it is the best thing I think
for people like us.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, intrigued that he seemed to pair us together in the same
category without even knowing me.

“Well, the financially blessed, of course,” Adam answered as if it was obvious. “Surely
your parents sponsored you for this club, my dear? It is important that we don’t get
taken advantage of by those who seek our fortunes. You should know that we only keep
members of those that are of a certain social class.”

“Oh, yes . . . of course,” I answered quickly, straightening myself slightly, feeling
my guard coming up immediately at the mention of money. I’d known that it would come
up eventually, especially when all the other Betties would arrive on move-in day.
Their luxury sports cars didn’t hold a candle to my old beat-up Honda Civic. There
wouldn’t be a question about my financial status after that.

In reality, I wasn’t really prepared to deal with it. I knew my book-to-movie deal
would be going through in a short amount of time, with a seven-figure promissory note
from my agent signed and sealed by the publishing house. If that hadn’t been the case,
there was no way I would have taken the offer for my friend to sponsor me. But still,
knowing that everyone here came from money made me incredibly nervous once again.
I knew that those types of people acted differently, and I hoped that my meager upbringings
didn’t make me stick out like a sore thumb.

“Adam,” a woman called from the other side of the bar. I glanced over to see a breathtakingly
beautiful older woman standing there, gesturing toward Adam with an elegant smile
on her face.

“Ah, the wife calls,” Adam said. “I truly hope that you get all the lessons this program
has to offer, my sweet Betty.”

He took my hand in his and placed another gentle kiss on the top before he turned
and made his way to his wife. I watched him walk toward her, both of them sharing
a small expression that alluded to some hidden meaning only the two of them shared.
Once he reached her side, Adam took her arm and gently placed it in his, leaning over
to press his lips onto her temple. Her eyes closed softly at the touch, and in that
moment, I could feel the intensity of the love they shared for one another. My heart
lurched at the scene, an unexpected sense of longing encompassing me.

The sudden flood of emotion caught me off guard. I never thought of myself as at a
period in my life when I would crave that kind of love. I knew eventually I’d want
it, but not now; I was too young and had too much to experience before I was consumed
like that. I was in a sex club, for God’s sakes; I was definitely not in the right
mind to seek love when I wanted nothing but pleasure without constraints. Desperate
enough, in fact, I sought a program with a one-hundred-grand-a-term price tag.

But as I watched Adam lead his wife toward the front doors, both leaning into each
other and sharing a quiet conversation as they departed, my heart strings thrummed
slightly at the sight. Maybe I was getting closer to that desire than I’d thought.

I glanced across the party, seeking signs of the kind of thing I’d witnessed between
the Vances among the other guests. Perhaps there was more to this whole Grant thing
than I’d originally anticipated. After all, Adam was alumni and happily married to
his wife of what seemed to be many years. I only deduced that because the woman appeared
to be about the same age as him. He’d yet to trade her in for the common trophy wife
the financially well-endowed seemed to have at his age.

I noticed that the atmosphere at the party seemed to be changing, slightly melting
away into a more amatory scene then it had been previously. The night was becoming
darker as the hours waned, leaving the party veiled and mysterious. Many of the older
guests were starting to retire, leaving the younger Pledges, Consorts, and mated couples
alone to enjoy the evening.

I saw a couple over in the corner, their heads bent together as they whispered into
each other’s ears. Another threesome—a man and two women—headed toward the cabanas,
choosing one of the canopies farther away from the guests and pulling the top down
for privacy.

Several other people were also showing signs of filtering off into selective groups,
and I had the feeling that anyone left knew exactly what being a Grant entailed; there
were none of the uninformed guests lingering behind, and my heartbeat picked up into
a steady, excited rhythm at that prospect.

Game on, Cain.

A movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. The man under the tree
was watching me again, gazing at my body with that same intensity he had earlier.
He intrigued me so much that I didn’t shy away from his blatant assessment, positioning
myself so that my body was on better display for his liking.

Maybe Carson did have a point to the benefits of seductive clothing . . .

His gaze shot to mine just then. I quirked an eyebrow at him in question, wanting
to know if he liked what he saw. He intentionally let his eyes roam my body, pausing
on certain areas he found the most intriguing. I felt my insides heat as he watched
me, the carnality of it so severe and raw it made my breath catch inside my chest.

Once he was done with his ogling, I invited him over with a slight nod of my head.
A bare hint of surprise echoed in the back of my mind at my brazen confidence in front
of so much sexual tension, but I chalked it up to the liquid courage I’d been consuming
since I’d arrived. Plus, I was never one to avoid attention; I just didn’t like to
advertise my assets for the entire world to bid on.

As he approached, I watched the way his body moved toward me like a panther, all smooth
lines and the grace of an elegant feline. His gaze was sharp and intent on me, like
I was his sole concentration in a sea of distraction.

Out from beneath the shadow of the tree, I could better appreciate his choice of costume
for the evening. His black slacks were tailored to his body perfectly, hugging his
waistline and hips, sitting just low enough to leave the swell of his groin slightly
accented beneath the thin fabric. He had a tight, short-sleeved collared shirt on
that seemed like a second skin clinging to his muscled arms. A fitted, black pinstriped
vest covered his torso with a skinny black tie down the middle. The only thing that
was missing from his ensemble was a black fedora and a stogie, and then the 1920s
gangster ensemble would be complete.

As I’d assumed before, he was tall and lean, with just the right amount of definition
where a man needed it the most. His arms were toned and corded with obvious strength,
but not overtly so. Perfect for grabbing me in the throes of passion. A man’s ability
to take control during sex, using his superior strength to contort a woman’s body
in a position better to his liking had always been a huge turn-on to me.

His hair was longer than I anticipated, slicked back to match the style of his costume
and curling just below his ears. I wondered what it looked like without all of that
gel. I could visualize his tuft of silk between my legs as he pleasured me, feel the
slick strands of it between my fingertips as if it ghosted across my flesh. I felt
my fingers twitch with the need to reach out, and I could barely suppress the moan
as he entered into my circle.

He approached me, his eyes never leaving mine. Once he was close enough, I saw that
his eyes were a stunning shade of brassy green, picking up the light to reveal sparks
of yellow and blue mixed in. They were gorgeous and erotic, and I could imagine how
they’d gleam when his lids were hooded with passion.

When he was finally beside me, I felt my senses shoot into overdrive. We’d made some
vague introductions that I barely remembered because I was so entranced by the way
he smelled. It was a combination of passion, lust, and pure sensual male that created
an overwhelming feast for my senses. I was lost in his essence, both in sight and
in smell that I hadn’t really watched what was coming out of my mouth; the presence
of him was so intoxicating.

“I wonder if that mouth sounds that nice in bed as well,” I had replied to a simple
compliment he’d paid me, and I wondered where the hell my filter had gone.

Probably in that puddle on the floor, right next to your soaked panties and inhibitions.

He took a step closer to me, brushing his hand along the skin of my neck right below
my earlobe.

“My mouth can do a great many things in bed, my Betty. And I can’t wait to show you
exactly what I mean.”

“Why wait?” I asked on a whispered breath, turning into his palm slightly so I could
bring my mouth closer to his. Never in my life had I felt so confident with a man
that I’d been so taken with like I was to him. It was as if all of the walls I’d formed
around myself out of habit immediately fell down.

He chuckled in a deep timbre that made my insides rumble. “There are certain protocols
to be followed. It is too early into the game for open play.”

“I’ve seen others disappear into seclusion.”

“Those are members already in the program. You are still going through your trials.”

“No rule breaking?” I asked from beneath my lashes, trying my damnedest to entice
him.

“Not tonight.” He gave me a wicked grin that incinerated what was left of my thin
undergarments.

“How long have you been watching me?”

“How long have you noticed me watching you?” he countered just as smugly.

“Hmm . . .” It was all I could think to say.

“Mady?” a slightly accented voice called from behind me, and I felt my eyelids squeeze
together in frustration at my friend’s perfect timing.

“Mina,” I replied, turning to see my best friend donned in the perfect costume. It
made me laugh out loud as I truly took her in. She even did a little turn around so
I could see her from all angles. A seductive and entirely inappropriate White Rabbit,
with a gigantic, poufy cotton ball tail that she wagged at me with a laugh. Perfect
for her in every way!

“You like?” she asked as she was done with her modeling.

“Very much so,” I replied with a giggle.

“Don’t you think that’s slightly overkill, baby doll?” Isaac asked from behind me,
his breath fanning across my shoulders leaving me in chills.

“Not at all,” Mina answered, sticking her tongue out in such a childish gesture that
it made me think the two of them had a brother-sister type relationship. For some
reason, that made me smile and warmed me even further to Isaac Wilson.

“So,” Mina started, taking my arm in hers and dragging me away from Isaac. I turned
to see him watching me over my shoulder, trying to tell him with my eyes that I wanted
to finish our heated conversation from earlier. He gave me a quick wink as Mina continued.
“How is it going so far?”

“I’m really having a good time.”

“And the boys?”

I glanced back at Isaac to find him watching me intently, that same fire in his eyes
from earlier unabated.

“They’re . . . good . . .” I answered noncommittally. I heard Mina giggle beside me
as my eyes were locked into Isaac’s trance.

“I bet,” I heard her say. My head snapped back to hers, a sudden sense of jealousy
flooding through me.

“Did you and Isaac ever . . .” I trailed off, not wanting to finish that thought or
for her to answer it. I knew that in the Grant mansion, hookups were frequent and
steady—that was why we were all here, after all. But I guessed I’d never thought that
equation through to its solution when I’d entertained applying. Mina had been a Pledge
here, meaning we’d probably end up having a lot of the same . . .
experiences
.

“No,” Mina reassured me quickly before my ramped thoughts got out of control. “Isaac
doesn’t take on more than a couple Betties at a time.” I wasn’t sure why but what
she said made my heart plummet.
More than a couple . . .
 

I chided myself immediately, repeating internally that there were many men and women
here. I was expecting before I’d met Isaac to have several different partners while
I was here, maybe not all of them men. Yes, I felt an immediate connection to Isaac,
but that didn’t mean he’d felt it for me. He could’ve just shown interest in me because
he found me physically attractive, as he should. I wasn’t here looking for something
more than sex, and I told myself again that I would stick to that mantra.

I didn’t acknowledge the fact that I’d had to tell myself that several times in the
short moments since meeting Isaac. I wouldn’t address that knowledge because it would
mean there was something more there and my heart was starting to get involved. The
Grants were only about physical pleasure, nothing more. And if I didn’t want to get
hurt in the process, I’d have to reconstruct those walls Isaac seemed to have plummeted
through earlier.