Audrey Exposed (16 page)

Chapter
34

(Graham)

Being from
West Texas I’m familiar with heat, but something about the humidity in Savannah, Georgia feels worse than anything I’ve ever experienced. The air is so thick that at times I feel like I’m drowning. Or maybe, it’s the situation I’m in. Somehow, against all logic, I’m going to the same wedding as Audrey.

Margaret finally revealed her plans for us Tuesday evening. She thought it a wonderful surprise
, a quiet weekend for the two of us, far from our hometown. We’d stop at a historic bed and breakfast in Savannah, followed up with the wedding;
the
wedding it turns out, that I’d been hearing about for months.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” I told her over the phone.

“You promised.”

My f
ingers gripped the plastic case so hard it creaked from the pressure. “We’ve never done something so public before. Are you sure this is a good idea? Do you want this to get back to your husband? Because I’m really not a fan of that.”

“
He suggested I bring a companion.”

“Uh, what?”

“You’re not the only one that’s been busy for the last three months, Graham. John and I have come to an understanding. We can see whom we want as long as it’s safe and respectful. Marci, the bride’s mother, is well aware of my situation. She can’t wait to meet you, and I can’t wait to get you alone.” When I didn’t reply, she added, “I’ll pay you three times your regular rate and I’ve already purchased your clothing.”

It’s just a job
, I told myself, as was my work with Audrey. I’d never professed anything differently. Neither had she. In addition, all I’d heard about was how this weekend she would consummate her relationship with her boyfriend. I’d done my job and I’d done it well; in fact, she made it overwhelmingly clear at our last meeting. I was just there for the end-result, to help her get Dylan back. That fact should make me happy; but the gnawing feeling in my stomach won’t pass. Not completely.

I did try to call her to give her the heads
-up. Her phone went straight to voicemail; and when the time came to leave a message, I floundered, unsure of what or how to say it. Did it even matter?

Now that we’re in this small, romantic southern town
, I feel a little better. A weight lifts off my chest as I drink wine and eat too much fried food. Margaret is fun; and now that she and her husband have an open arrangement, I guess that’s not a problem anymore. Also, to be honest, I’ve missed the security of a full bank account.

During
dinner, I succumb to her hands—to my job—gritting my teeth as my cock presses hard as a tent pole against my khaki’s as she works me under the table. Back at the hotel room, she strips down to a sexy set of black lace panties, her tits unnaturally firm, no need for a bra.

It’s then that I falter, confused by the confide
nce and overt sexuality. What I normally find hot, fizzles; but I maintain my game face, and soon Margaret straddles me, sinking down on my cock.

“It’s been too long,” she purrs, stroking her hands down my chest. “God
, you feel good.”

I glance to the ceiling, away from her face.
We’re in this position because she took the initiative; but everything about this is wrong. The blonde hair. Her gray eyes. “Stop,” I announce and in one swift move, I pull out and flip her to her stomach. As she moves to all fours, I dip my hand down to make sure she’s ready.

“Oh
, Graham,” she says, bucking against my palm. I hold her hips, taking her from behind and slam into her rough and hard. How she likes it.

Opposite of what I’ve gotten used to.

With Margaret, there’s no holding back, no taking care or being gentle. She’d hate me if I treated her like that. I’m here to make her feel strong. Invincible. I’m here to desire her and make her feel wanted. To feel young.

I
close my eyes and pound into her, feeling her back arch at the same time that a low moan rumbles in her throat, signaling her orgasm. I follow quickly, not wanting to drag this out, releasing a week’s worth of pent up cum deep inside, holding her hips steady with my hands. “Baby, you’re too good,” she says, rocking back and forth on her knees, riding out the residual waves.

I fall back on the bed, head sunk into the pillow, easing off the condom and tossing it carelessly on my T-shirt on the floor. At least
, I don’t have to clean the goddamn jizz up for once.

Margaret snuggles into my side, her body sticky with sweat. “I can’t believe I went three months without that.”

My fingers reach for her hair and I stroke it softly. “I needed it, too,” I say, finally feeling a little relief. Maybe that was my problem. Too much of one girl. Audrey had been my only monogamous relationship in years, if ever. Maybe it fucked with my head. I took a deep breath at the realization.

“You okay?” Margaret asks, her fi
ngers toying with the hair on my lower belly. If she keeps it up, I’ll get hard again. A thought travels from my brain to my cock.

“I’m good.” I seek the warmth between her legs with my hand.

“Already?”

I roll on top of her
. Without any coaxing, her legs open wide. There’s no tremble across her flesh and no hesitation in her words.
This is what I need
, I tell myself, and plunge in for the second time.

Chapter 35

(Audrey)

I’m sitting in a chair getting my toes painted a dark, shiny red when the first
wave of guests appears. Two ferries transport from the mainland to the Island each day, and this is the first. Bart shows up with the groomsmen; all are looking tan and slightly tired. He pops his head in and gives Jessica a long kiss while we pretend to chat with one another. In reality, we’re gawking. Our friend really is getting married.

“
Lunch will be ready in half an hour,” the wedding planner announces. She’s a humorless woman in her mid-thirties, but looks like she’s sixty. Reese keeps trying to joke around with her, to no avail. “You girls will gather on the west porch, while the men will have theirs in the bar.”

“Why do the men get
to go to the bar?” Reese whines.

“
Just be there on time,” she says, exasperated with us already. “Mrs. Whitmore and her friends will be joining you. After the luncheon, there’s a tour set up for the Mansion ruins and to see the wild horses.”

“Oh, I really want to see the horses,” Bella declares. It’s one of the highlights of the Island.

“Me, too,” I say, trying to stand without smearing the paint job. With everyone’s nails and hair done, all we have to do is dress anyway. “I’m hoping the fresh air will help this freaking hangover headache.”

We
meet on the back porch, where several tables, seating four, have been set up by the hotel staff. Jessica’s mother is surrounded by a small group of friends. “Maybe they’ll distract her,” Reese says, taking a seat at one of the tables. “And she and the wedding Nazi can give us a little space to breathe.”

Marci gathers our attention and announces, “Girls, I want you all to get the opportunity to meet some of my closest frien
ds. We went to college together. They mean to me, what all of you mean to Jessica.” She smiles fondly at the women next to her. She points down the line and, says their names. “Frances, Dorothy, and of course, Margaret.”

These women all ooze the same sort of wealth as Mrs. W
hitmore. Expensive, tasteful clothing and jewelry. Well, mostly tasteful. Reese and I find ourselves at a table with the woman who seems to be Mrs. Whitmore’s closest friend, Margaret. My eyes flick to my best friend and try not to laugh as she absorbs the blonde highlights and perky, fake tits.

“It’s so wonderful to meet you,” she says, with a gleaming white smile. “Jessica is almost like my own daughter, I can’t tell you how thrilled I am about this wedding.”

“Girls,” Marci says, swooping by our table. “Margaret also lives in Durham.”

“Oh, did you go to Duke?” Reese asks.

“No,” she says. “Vanderbilt. But that was so many years ago, you don’t want to hear about my boring life! Tell me all about yourselves.”

She’s opened the door
, so Reese walks through it, talking about Alex and his residency in pediatric trauma and her own job at the library. I secretly suspect she’ll quit working once he is assigned a full-time position; and they’ll have a gazillion babies.

Tiny antique bowls
are set in front of us, filled with a pink sherbet for dessert. Marci settles back in at our table and quietly says to her friend, “So, where is he?”

“Resting upstairs
, I think,” Margaret replies with a sly smile.

“Worn out from the trip?”

“You could say that,” she laughs. “You’ll meet him soon, don’t worry.”

Reese and I exchange glances, her bottom lip twitching into a smirk, because what the hell? I take in the huge diamond on her finger
; she must be married. Hooray for married sex, right?

A
fter dessert, the wedding Nazi returns informing us we have ten minutes to change for the Island tour. “Are you coming?” I ask Reese, but she shakes her head and yawns.

“No way
will I get through the night without a nap.”

“Anyone?” I ask the other girls
; but they all shake their head, even Bella. “Party poopers.”

I change fast, into shorts and a tank top
, twisting my hair on top of my head and donning sunglasses. The guide, a young skinny guy, with a scraggly beard and legs covered in mosquito bites, waits at the bottom of the front porch steps. There’s a small group of men and several younger guests, Jessica’s cousins.

“We’ll take this trail around the water,” the guide, Jeffrey, says, showing us a small paper map. It’s about five miles round trip. I’ll make sure you’re back in time for your evening plans.”

The screen door opens with a creek, and a voice calls out, “Is it too late to join?” Chills travel down my spine. I glance back; before I even have a chance to react, I spot Graham running down the steps.

“Shit.” My hand covers my mouth. Shit. I said that
aloud. I smile apologetically at the kids. “Uh, sorry.

“Hey,” he says, grabbing my arm. “So weirdest thing…”

“What are you doing here?” I allow all the other hikers to go first. Graham and I bring up the rear.

“I kind of had a standing date for this weekend and I never put two-and-two together. I mean, there are a lot of June weddings.”

“A date?” The word settles in my chest like a small sting.

“Yeah.” His eyebrows furrow. “It’s like a friend-thing, I guess. It’s complicated. I’m not sure how to explain it.”

“I guess you don’t have to,” I say, tromping down the grass-covered trail.

“I did try to call when I found out.”

I stop and face him. Sweat already seeps through his shirt, forming a dark spot on his chest. “There’s no service on the island. But seriously, other than this being a weird surprise, there’s no reason you should have told me.”

“I
didn’t want it to be awkward, so I asked for you at the desk. They said you were busy with wedding stuff, so I figured I’d catch up at some point and…”

“Right, now you have.
” I offer him a friendly smile, which he returns mingled with what looks like relief. “It won’t be awkward. Honestly, I’m glad you’re here.

“You are?”

“Dylan’s coming down tomorrow, and you know…it’s going to be our big day.” I feel dumb saying it; but it’s not as if Graham hasn’t had a front row seat to my sex life for the last three months.

“Oh
, right.” He nods, kicking the ground with the toe of his sneaker. “Not sure how I can help with that any more than I already have.”

I grab his hand, linking his fingers with mine. “You have no idea how much I appreciate you
; do you? How much your presence squashes my fear?” Even now, I feel stronger with him nearby, even if it brings about a completely different slew of emotions.

“I guess I don’
t,” he says, shifting on his feet. My touch seems to make him uncomfortable so I release his hand.

“Well, you do. You help me feel confident
; and to be honest, you help me feel sexy and empowered. That’s the kind of mojo I’m going to need to get through this weekend.”

“Audrey, you know I’m here for
you; however you need, with or without the experiment to bind us together. But this is hard, talking about Dylan. It shouldn’t be. I guess that’s just the oddity of us being here together, outside the confines of the experiment.”

“What do you mean?” For the first time in months, Graham and I seem to be out of sync. I want to touch him, comfort him
; but he keeps his distance. The grimace on his face doesn’t bode well either. “What’s wrong?”

He rubs his neck and keeps his eyes on a spot over my shoulder.
“I guess it’s hard for me to think about you making love to someone else, even though I have no right to say that.”

“The idea of you having a date isn’t so great for me either,” I confess.
“It’s not that I’m jealous, not exactly.”

“I know. I feel the same way.”

The guide whistles and shouts for us to catch up. We both start moving again, side by side. A different feeling emerges between the two of us, one I never expected to happen; but we’re stuck on this island for another forty-eight hours. There’s nothing to do, but deal with it.