Blasphemous (29 page)

Maybe. “What made you ask that?”

“If looks could kill, I would be dead the second you gave me a hug.”

Bass was getting jealous? The nerve. “He shouldn’t be acting that way. He just reunited with his girlfriend last night.”

Yep, that was loaded with bitterness.

“I’m sure the girlfriend is—” Jacques tried to make excuses for the idiot, but I wasn’t going to let him.

“Nikki Pavlova,” I effortlessly supplied, knowing the Russian knockout was well known with the men.

Jacques gave a slow, appreciative whistle. “Beautiful. He has good taste, your ex. I’ve never seen any of his films, though. Give me all the Nikki’s in the world, but I’d choose you above them all. If you weren’t so in love with him, I might try to make you mine. I believe in fate, though, and I think you and I are much fated to be good friends.”

Okay, I admit, that made me feel a little better. It was petty and I was in no way competing for Bass, but it was good to hear it anyway. “What happened to that woman you were talking about before? Progress, at all?”

“Ah, you haven’t forgotten.” He shook his head, looking away. “Nothing happened with her. These things you can’t force. If it happens, then it’s splendid. If it doesn’t, then it wasn’t meant to be.”

Why leave it to fate when you can forge your own?
I wanted to say, but instead I tried to understand what his words truly meant. “That’s a way to see things.”

“I’m not going to say that I don’t think of her, I do,” Jacques said with melancholy, wondering what made this woman so difficult for him to get.

“Me, too. I may hate his guts, but I do I want him to be happy. However, whenever I do think of him, I end up sad and upset. It’s been months now. I should be over it already.”

The Frenchman gave a shrug before getting me a drink from a passing waiter and handing me the French martini. “Who cares if it’s days, months, or years; does it make a difference? No, I don’t believe that. What happened to that other ex?”

Carter. “He’s there. We’re friends…” I implied, coquettishly.

“With benefits?”

I laughed as I carefully took a sip of my refreshing drink. “That we are, but I like it this way for now. I need some time on my own. No commitment or obligations. Free to do whatever I want.”

“Accompany me, greet my old friend while we make the ex jealous. I feel a little cheeky the more he sends me those deadly looks.”

Just want I needed. Thank God for the Jacques in the world. “How do we play this?” Beyond eager to comply with what he had in mind.

“I’ll lead and you simply act in awe of me.”

“Sure, let’s inflate your ego some more, why don’t we?” I teased as he loosely placed his hand behind my back, guiding me towards them.

Dimitris
greeted Jacques when we got to their table. He even introduced Bass and Jacques in the same language. What caught me off guard was when Bass started speaking in French as well. 

Okay, I had to get it together. I scolded myself when I was tempted to jump his bones as he sexily spoke the language I had no clue of.

Pretending not to be affected while Bass shot me murderous glares was a feat.

We were in a circular, white, lounge chair that could fit four to five people max. Jacques and I sat comfortably, with me leaning against his chest, while he played with my fingers atop the table, or seductively brushed my hair, or playfully traced the thin strap of my
monokini. They were subtle and in no way over the top.

But it worked.

Bass was silently breaking before my very eyes while he blatantly stared me down, tomato red with jealousy.

Even when he was already about to pop his lid, he still tried to remain courteous because we were in
Dimitris’s home and at his party. Bass wasn’t the kind to make a scene. No matter how hard he tried to appear composed, I wasn’t fooled.

When
Dimitris and Jacques resorted back to English and began discussing racing and other sports, I decided to get up and excuse myself to use the powder room. Before letting me go, Jacques took hold of my hand and kissed it, eyes sparkled with naughtiness. “Don’t be too long, chèrie. I might miss you too much.”

Reaching to feel his stubble, I smiled with pure enjoyment. “Isn’t he just so amazing? My naughty Frenchman.” I bent over and gave him a sensual kiss. Not French, but somewhere in between sweet and sexy.

The main reason why I wanted to go in the powder room was to call Lindsey. The more I sat there with the guys, the more I thought about the shitstorm Lindsey was in.

I strolled indoors, towards one of the private powder rooms that weren’t open to the rest of the partygoers. Perks of being friends with the homeowner.

Taking my phone out of my purse, I let myself inside the gilded room with black granite wall and flooring. It had two, cream, Marie Antoinette chaise lounges and I immediately darted towards one.

Chapter 28

“They say a good love is one that sits you down, gives you a drink of water, and pats you on top of the head. But I say a good love is one that casts you into the wind, sets you ablaze, makes you burn through the skies and ignite the night like a phoenix; the kind that cuts you loose like a wildfire and you can't stop running simply because you keep on burning everything that you touch! I say that's a good love; one that burns and flies, and you run with it!”

- C. Joybell. C.

Bass

I was seeing red as I strode to catch up with the woman who was walking with provocativeness, past caring that her ass was attracting a lot of attention or her cleavage that bounced with every step she took was instant-hard-on material. 

She was in a flurry to get in the bathroom and I immediately pushed the door before it managed to close itself. That wasn’t on the top of the list of my incensed, past provoked, Neanderthal condition. No, that wasn’t the top one at all.

Emma looked up from her phone, taken aback at seeing me and I saw her anger come. “What the hell are you doing here?
Have you lost your mind?
”

Her anger be damned
, I thought as I eyed her body scathingly, up and down, until she knew what I thought of it. “What in God’s name are you fucking toying with here, Emma? If you want to slut yourself around, I advise you do it somewhere private.”

She gasped, flinging her phone aside on the seat before she stood up and aggressively closed the gap between us. “I can slut myself anywhere I want to!”

Emma was playing dirty and I was past caring about her feelings at this point. I was ready to fucking rip everything apart until she knew how fucked up she made me feel. “You’re already implying that you are with how you look, Emma! If you’re aiming to look like a hooker, well, go right ahead!”

Her eyes popped out of her sockets when I hissed out the word
hooker
. “Excuse me? My swimwear’s a one-piece and pretty tame compared to the other women out there!”

“Well, the women out there are twigs and you’re not,” I bellowed back.

Her eyes flared, looking like she was about to strangle me. “Are you fucking telling me that I’m
fat?!
”

I wished that kind of fat was the problem, but hell this type of fat was the groin-stirring kind. “No. Not even close. You’re petite, but you have breasts and a very nice… ass.” I loved worshipping that ass of hers, in and out of it. I was so hopeless when it came to her body that my eyes snapped to the spot where I loved so much. Even in my about to murder rage, my physical reaction to her beauty was pathetic.

Emma gave a dry laugh when she caught me eyeing her like a starving man. “Well, too bad. You just have to deal with it. You just have to stop checking it out.”

Men were checking her out. It was driving me mad how Jacques freely had his hands all over her and she didn’t do shit about it. Instead, she slapped me with disrespect when she kissed Jacques like she couldn’t wait to get him alone and use that skillful mouth of hers.

“You think this is funny?” I hissed in her face, so close that with one move, I could capture those deceitful lips of hers. “You already knew how I was going to act before you even kissed Jacques in front of me. If you aimed to hurt me, congratulations, you did a splendid job. It’s what you’re good at.”

“Hurt you?” She snorted as if she found it hilarious. “You have the audacity to fling accusations when it was you who had another woman on your lap last night, kissing with no care that it was going to be out in the news the next day.
Hurt you?
Seriously, I’m done talking to you. I am done.”

Ah, that explained a lot of things, but it didn’t change my mood. Not. One. Little. Bit. She was done? Ha-fucking-ha. “You wish it was.”

“Huh! It’s been over, dude. Wake up! You’re not the only hot guy on the planet. I enjoy variety.” She spun around, faced the mirror and fixed the top part of her X-rated suit. Not caring if I was checking her out.

I was cold as ice when I moved behind her back, meeting those defiant eyes in the mirror. “Go change, Emma. One wrong move and your nipples will show.” And those nipples look aroused.

Without preamble, my hand snaked out and rubbed her pebbled nipple through the lycra. “Defying me turns you on, doesn’t it?”

Emma hissed, cupping her breasts, angry as hell. “These are mine. I get to do whatever I want, if I want to flash the entire world with them, that’s my damn right. I’m not yours to command, Bass. Those days are
long
gone.” She spun around, advancing on me with dark, furious and enraged eyes.

I was too dumbstruck and, frankly, in awe of her to move. Emma stopped and roughly shoved me against the cold, granite wall, leaving me heaving for a second, before her hand intensely captured my jaw, nails biting into my skin as she moved it briskly to the side, pushing my cheek against the cold surface. She then brought her lips close, brushing them against my ear. “Does this power play excite you, Bass? Does your fat cock harden at the sight of my body?”

Fuck, yes. I was so turned on by Emma’s cattiness that I was rendered speechless.

“Not talking, are we now, bad boy?
Oh, I know
! Your cock is taking over your body. Baby can’t think straight when cocky Bass wants to play,” Emma huskily rasped against my ear.

She then roughly let go of my chin. A sharp gasp escaped my lips when her nails dug against my shirt, scraping my skin as they slid down past my nipples and stopped when they reached my pants.

“Tsk-tsk.” Emma playfully toyed with the band of my pants, brushing my hot skin as she did so. “You are always rock hard and ready, aren’t you, Bass?” The vixen was on a roll as she lifted my shirt, scratched across my navel and bit into my nipple.

Shit. Jesus Christ. “Emma!” I grunted out in vain. Losing my bearings and any thoughts because the vixen was making me so hard, so hard that moisture seeped out of my engorged shaft.

This was inferno!

“
Emma, what?
” She stuck out her tongue and slowly swirled it around my earlobe. “Do you remember that time in Aspasia where I got down on my knees and gave you a deep-throat?” She gave a husky moan that rose the hairs all over my body. “Did you like that? Did you like it when I did everything you wanted? Do you like it when you came so hard in my mouth that I gagged from your size being shoved down my throat, but loved every single drop of you?”

I fucking loved it. I dreamt of you like that so many times.

“Yes…” a tortured reply came out of me. I let out a frustrated groan when her hand reached inside my boxers. She tsked again when she found me hard against her hand.

“So hard, so big and so thick… and always ready to fuck…” she continued to become my kryptonite.

“Fuck, Emma,” I grunted out when she bit into my neck as she stroked me.

Her lips trailed soft kissed on my jaw before she paused when she got to my ear again. “This was my wild ride. Big, angry and so powerful as you shoved it so hard into me, the pleasure so out of this world it hurt. You hurt me so well that I was always ready for you. You stretched me to limits I didn’t know possible.” When her hand cupped my balls, I hissed, as her nails cut through my skin when she squeezed them tighter. “
Memories
, Bass. That’s what you get for letting me go. Now, go fuck that flat-chested bitch because you aren’t getting any from me. Goodbye.” She pulled her hand and herself off me, dashing to get her things before she audaciously gave herself a onceover in the mirror and walked out the door.

I should’ve been pissed knowing she played at my weakness, but hell.
That was hot!
I loved it when she played feisty. It made me want to goad her to scratch some more.

My beautiful, feisty Emma, you were going to be the death of me.

~B~

“I trust that you slept well?”
Dimitris greeted Emma as she entered the patio, looking like a breath of fresh air. She held herself with such confidence that each time I saw her, I felt like my gut was being punched.