We’re walking up to the house, Dani practically running at this point, when James slips his hand into mine and pulls me to a stop. His free hand grips my hip with a squeeze as he pushes me up against a garish column that serves no purpose other than flaunting wealth.
“You—you look like you belong here, in a house like this. You’re a damn knockout, and I can’t believe you’re here with me. I can’t believe you’re mine.” His eyes are drinking me in for the hundredth time tonight, and I can just make out the bulge in his pants. “Please don’t leave me for Tommy. He’s a prick.”
“Yeah, but he’s rich and I’d never have to work another day in my life…” I tease, using the most sultry voice I can manage. I let out a soft moan and watching his eyes darken. “Mr. Barton, you should fuck me right here on his daddy’s lawn and show him who I belong to.”
“Tempting. We might get lucky and find one of the cars unlocked.” He nips at my bottom lip, pushing against me with a wicked grin. “Besides, you might be my girl, but if anyone in this relationship belongs to someone, it’s me belonging to you.”
“I love you, James Barton. Now, just bend me over the hood of that Maserati, baby. Who cares about car alarms?” I take his tie, slowly pulling it through my fingers. “I should probably keep hold of you while we’re in there, so some rich cougar doesn’t try to drag you away to her den.”
He kisses my bottom lip, and when he pulls back, I reach up and wipe the lipstick from his mouth with the pad of my thumb. He’s got on a tight black suit with a blue tie that makes his eyes sparkle—or it could be me doing that. His pants would show off his perfect ass if it wasn’t for the jacket.
My arms wrap around his waist and I give his butt a squeeze while he smiles down at me.
“When we’re done here, I want you to take me home, hike up my skirt, and eat my pussy like it’s your last meal on earth.” I smirk, watching his pupils react to my words as his mouth drops open. “Then I want you to fuck me from behind while I wear these stupid heels.”
“Promise to keep those heels on, and you have yourself a deal, Ms. Strauss.” He cups my ass and grinds against me. “I’m gonna peel this dress off you with my teeth and have you screaming my name.”
“The way you say my name, it almost sounds like mistress. I think I like it. Oh, we should pretend we’re rich and famous. I should tell everyone I’m from the North Carolina VanDerVanders.”
He laughs and pulls me closer, nipping at my neck.
“Mmm, unfortunately, I actually know the douchebag whose family lives here. He’s well aware I’m about as far away from rich or successful as an artist because he’s the one who’s managed to pull the rug out from under me on at least two clients and a grant.” He takes my hand, and we move toward the front door again just as Dani calls to us from the doorway. “You, however, are the Countess der VanDerVander, and everyone should bow before you and shower you with riches. Speaking of, where the hell did that kid go that I hired to sprinkle rose petals at your feet?”
“You fucking would.” I giggle. “You know, if I was the Countess der VanDerVander, I’d still let you be my aloof boy toy that fucks me stupid every night.”
“A position I will gladly accept, mistress.”
We walk in, and my mouth tries to drop, but I manage to hold it in place. It’s the most idiotic, gaudy, ugly place I think I have ever been. It could be the designer in me, but I don’t understand some of the people who get hired to decorate these places. I guarantee this place has at least one gold toilet. I hate everything about it. As we walk toward the crowds of people, I shake my head and laugh.
“What?”
“This, all of it. The house is beyond ostentatious, and the first painting we’re about to see already has me wanting to run out the door and pour bleach in my eyes.”
He leans forward to read the plaque next to the art. “Well, don’t say that too loud. It’s one of Tommy’s.” He frowns and lets a heavy sigh escape. “And it’s worth more than my car and home put together.”
“It looks like a vagina. Painted by someone who has never actually seen one.” His nose scrunches up as he laughs, trying to hide it behind his hand. “What?! I’ve got one and I’ve been face first into one. This man has never satisfied a single person who identifies as a woman. Platinum card gay men have drawn better pussies.”
“I love you.”
“I know,” she answers with a wink. “So, when do I get to see your paintings? You’ve got to be way better than this guy.”
“I’d have to dig them out of a closet. Or the dump.” He moves on to the next frame and purses his lips. “I stopped painting a while ago.”
“Because of your dad?”
“Sort of. All my supplies are in the garage. I tried to buy some and work in the house and ended up tossing all the canvases into a barrel and having a little bonfire. Liking something doesn’t mean you’re good enough at it to make it a career.”
“That doesn’t mean you should give it up. I don’t believe you’re a bad painter for a second, pretty boy.” I smooth his hair back and look into his eyes. “You just need to find some fresh inspiration. Something new to paint.”
He takes my hand and squeezes. “I already have. I just can’t seem to leave you alone long enough to put the brush to the canvas.”
Someone runs up behind Jamie, wraps him in a hug, and kisses his cheek all in a blur of motion. James looks stunned for a second and then cracks up. I nearly drop the drink in my hand when I realize who is standing in front of me.
“Duuuude, I am so fucking glad you’re here. Did you see that first painting? Fuck, man. A blind man could paint a better—” He lets go of Jamie and stops dead in his tracks, staring at me. It’s not lewd, it’s more that he’s surprised. “You! You…must be Alexis. Please tell me you’re Alexis.”
Jamie sighs and pulls me in for a kiss on the head. “Yep, she is. Lexi, this is the Oscar winning idiot extraordinaire, Chase Cooper, but you can call him dickhead. Coop, this is the more brilliant and talented than you love of my life, Alexis Strauss.”
“Before I answer this asshole, allow me to apologize. I heard about the line you waited in and I feel terrible. Also, anything he’s told you about me is probably a lie.” He takes my free hand, kissing my knuckles and sending electrified butterflies through my whole body.
