G-Men: The Series (94 page)

“Oh God,” I moaned, my breathing now coming faster. He thrust a finger up into me, and then another, while he rocked the heel of his hand against my clit. I felt his fingers inside of me, expertly locating my swollen G-spot, and applying pressure against it rhythmically as my hips started gyrating in a circular motion around his hand.

“Mmmm,” I moaned, my voice husky with pleasure. His lips imprisoned mine, his tongue tracing my lower lip.

“Your pussy’s so wet, love; wet and ready for me. I’m going to kiss it one day, Nicole.” He told me, his British accent thicker now. “Would you like that?”

“Yes,” I whined, continuing to roll my hips. “Don’t stop,” I breathed, as his fingers continued fucking me with a slow, deliberate vengeance. The sweet sensation of an orgasm was now unfolding at his fingertips. My body shook with the release. I cried out with pleasure, moving my hips harder against his hand as it unleashed around me. My fingernails were digging into his shoulders, and I bit my lower lip as I kept coming and coming around his sexually menacing fingers until I was totally spent.

“Oh God,” I rasped. “Jesus Christ.” I slumped against him, catching my breath. My limbs had turned to jelly; my face was flushed with afterglow.

E.J. pulled his fingers from me, and smoothed my dress back down over my hips. Never taking his eyes off mine, he brought his wet fingers to his mouth, making me watch as he sucked on them. From inside, we could hear the final countdown chant of the partiers to midnight.

“Five…Four…Three…Two…One! Happy New Year!” From somewhere, fireworks went off in beautiful displays on the beach. E.J. pulled me back against him, and lowered his lips to mine in an almost savage kiss. I finally got with the program, wondering why he had gone from gentle to wild on my lips. They were tender by the time he pulled away.

“Happy New Year, Nicole,” he said softly. Just then, we found ourselves illuminated in the dark by headlights from a car pulling up alongside of the building. It was a black, stretch limo. No one got out immediately.

“That’s for me,” E.J. said nonchalantly, like he was already forgetting what just happened. “I’m headed to the airport now. I’ll see you again, Nicole. Behave yourself and I mean it.”

“What?” I asked, standing there completely confused by his exit. The chauffeur got out and opened the passenger door for him and I watched as he disappeared inside the car. I stood there in a complete stupor, watching as the limo backed up the drive, and faded quickly into the night.

What the fuck just happened?

^{chapter 7}

~ Friday, February 13th ~

Yep, it was Friday the 13th alright. Not one of my favorite things, even though I don’t particularly ascribe to being a superstitious person. Conversely, there had been some very bad things happen in my life on Friday the 13th. Without a doubt.

Just some of my anti-Friday-the-thirteenth examples:

1. On Friday the 13th in 1998, my sweet little kitty named “Scamper” got hit by a car and killed.

2. It was on a Friday the 13th that I first ever got my period.

3. I lost my virginity on a Friday the 13th to Jamie McWilliams and it was the worst experience of my life!

4. It was also on a Friday the 13th that they crowned our high school Homecoming Queen and I only made it to first runner-up. And just between you and me, I deserved that crown more than Sheila “Married to my Pom-Poms” Deming!

So you see why I’m not a big fan of Friday the 13th? Of course, Lindsey had pooh-poohed my objections to her having the rehearsal dinner held on this day.

“Our wedding’s on the 14th, Valentine’s Day, Darce. The whole point of the rehearsal dinner is to prepare for the wedding the following day,” she pointed out, when we’d had lunch a couple of weeks prior.

“I know, but couldn’t you have it two days ahead, like on the 12th instead of the 13th?” I’d whined.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she replied, giving me a major eye roll. “Besides that, Taz’s brother Easton won’t be arriving until the morning of the 13th, so that wouldn’t work anyway since he’s Taz’s best man.”

I shook my head. “I still can’t believe Slate’s not going to be Taz’s best man. They’re best friends. That’s crazy.”

Lindsey sighed as if tired of explaining. “Darce, my grandfather’s dead; my dad’s either dead or on the run, so Mom insisted that Slate be the one to give me away and that
no
bride should have to walk down the aisle alone. So, having my step-father escort me down the aisle makes perfect sense. Besides it solved the problem Taz had with his father being so adamant about including his older brother in the ceremony. Problem solved.”

I wrinkled my brow in confusion. “Yeah, what’s all that about with Taz’s father? I mean, what’s the deal with his whole family anyway? Does he hate his brother or something?”

“No, nothing like that. I guess they’re just not close. Actually, Easton is his half-brother. He’s 33 years-old, and has spent the majority of his time over in England with his mother, since she and Taz’s dad divorced. I guess she’s a real bitch too, and from some sort of wealthy British royalty. Easton spent summers in California with his dad, though. But, with Taz being three years younger and all, they just really didn’t have a lot in common.”

“Huh,” I said, “Sounds like there’s a lot of water under
that
bridge.”

Lindsey had snorted. “I think there’s a whole lot more to the story than what Taz has shared with me. I get the idea that Easton’s a spoiled prick. Apparently, he used to pull some shit during those summers he spent with Taz and the younger sister, Paige. He didn’t elaborate much, but I’m sure I’ll get it out of him sooner or later.”

“Where does Easton live now?” I asked.

“All over, I guess. He’s some kind of wealthy mogul. Actually, he’s kept in touch with Taz somewhat over the years. I guess he was in D.C. a couple of years ago and they hung out for a week or so. Taz says he’s quite the ladies man, too,” she added, giving me a wink.

So, against my objections, the rehearsal dinner was to be held at the Country Club my folks belonged to on Friday the 13th. Eli was escorting me. Yes, that’s right. I need to catch up here.

I’d found an apartment in D.C., so it actually kind of worked out perfectly when I found out Eli
would
be moving to the same city, because I wanted someone to live with and Eli was…well,
Eli
. My parents now knew the whole story about Eli’s being gay, which of course disappointed them as far as being husband material for me. Not me though, because their faces when they found out?
Freakin’ hilarious!
I mean, they were still crazy about the guy—who wouldn’t be? Plus, I think they felt better having me out on my own knowing Eli was looking out for me.

I had finished my on-line classes and officially would graduate in March with a B.S. in International Marketing. Eli and I had both started entry-level positions as Management Trainees with my father’s company. Eli was working for the Director of Customer Relations. I was working in the Public Relations group. We learned how to prepare press releases, presentations, advertisements, and designed booths for clients participating in trade shows and technical training sessions. Both of us hated our bosses.

My boss was Jon Rollins, a tall, lanky guy in his mid-forties with acne scars and a crew cut. Eli worked for Leanne Harshman, a self-proclaimed cunt that was banging Rollins. Eli said she was a royal bitch if she didn’t get her way. Both of our bosses liked to micro-manage. We’d bitch about it at home after work, along with complaining about our lack of love lives. I no longer felt any sorrow about the break-up with Darin.

It was strange that my thoughts occasionally drifted back to New Year’s Eve with E.J. I wondered if we’d ever see each other again. And that question bothered me because, after the stunt he’d pulled, I should’ve blacklisted the guy from my mind altogether. But
God…
those fingers. And his voice as he whispered dirty promises…

I shook those thoughts from my mind for the hundredth time, at least. It had been over a month ago. I needed to move on and focus on tonight’s rehearsal dinner.

There, I was ready. Glancing in the full-length mirror, I assessed my dinner dress for tonight. It was an Anne Klein simple black dress with a squared neckline trimmed in royal blue. I’d accented with royal blue earrings and necklace. My hair was down and straightened flat.

Eli called from the hallway, reminding me that we needed to leave now or be late. “I’m coming,” I hollered out, slipping my heels on and grabbing my coat. Why Lindsey picked February for the wedding was beyond me! She was all into having it on Valentine’s Day, though. And the dresses were gorgeous, so I was fairly excited about the event. It was going to be a small wedding in a Methodist Church. I was maid of honor and Jill was a bridesmaid. Easton was to be the best man, and Gabe a groomsman. Lindsey had won that battle, putting her foot down and explicitly informing Taz that Darin was not only out of the wedding party, but not to show his cheating face at their wedding either.

Eli let out a whistle when I joined him in the entryway. “You look fabulous as always, Darcy,” he complimented.

“Ditto,” I replied, buttoning up my coat. “Now, let’s do this.”

A valet greeted us as we pulled my Mercedes up to the arched overhang at the entrance to the club. We proceeded inside and were directed to the “Wisteria Room” where the bar was set up for pre-dinner cocktails and appetizers. Soft music was being piped into the banquet room. Eli took my coat for me, once we were inside. I immediately saw Lindsey’s grandmother and Slate talking to a man and woman I’d never seen before. Taz’s parents maybe?

Eli returned with our drinks and I all but slurped mine down.

“Easy,” he cautioned, with a smile in his eyes. “Nervous much?”

“You know I hate Friday the 13th,” I replied, “Nothing good ever happens for me on days like this.”

“I’ll get you one more if you promise to sip, and not slurp.”

“Fine,” I said, shooting him an innocent look, as he began his trek back over to the bar. “But make it a double.”

Taz and Lindsey had just come in, so I hurried over to them, giving Lindsey a hug.

“You both look gorgeous,” I said, hugging Taz now. “I’m so very happy for you.”

“You aren’t drunk are you?” Lindsey asked, cocking an accusatory brow. I gave her a very offended look. Taz chuckled as he leaned in to give me a brotherly kiss on the cheek. “You look hot as always, Darcy,” he said.

Eli returned with my drink and greeted them both. We chatted for a few minutes, and then I asked about Jill and Gabe.

“They should be here any time now,” Lindsey replied, with a hint of nervousness. “They had a slight delay in Philly.”

“Calm down, babe,” Taz soothed her. “They’ll be here. Let’s go over and say hi to Mom and Dad, okay?” She nodded and they made their way over to where both sets of parents were, well except Slate was the stepparent, obviously. Standing there while Eli chatted with someone nearby, I leisurely looked around the room for a face that resembled Taz’s as I wondered what his seemingly-absent half-brother looked like, and when he’d make his appearance.

By the time I finished my second cocktail, I knew I needed to make a trip to the Girl’s Room before we sat down to dinner. When I told Eli where I was going, he opted to join me. We rambled down the carpeted hallway and around the corner, where I knew there were a set of lavatories that served the banquet rooms in this wing of the club.

As we rounded the corner, there was a line of women waiting outside of the Ladies Restroom, complaining about the door being locked. One lady was lightly tapping on the door, asking repeatedly if anyone was in there.

“Looks like the little boy’s room is free,” Eli commented, “Be back in a flash.”

“What’s the hold-up?” I asked, as I took my place behind the last lady in the line. “I know there are several stalls in there.”

“Someone has the main door locked,” she said, clearly irritated. “It’s been nearly ten minutes now. Some of the others went to find facilities in the other wing. This is my first time here and I don’t feel like getting lost in this mammoth building, or I’d do the same.”

Just then, the woman at the front of the line started banging loudly on the door. Frustrated, she huffed off saying she was going to find a manager to get the door unlocked. A couple of guys came out of the men’s room and waited with their respective dates for the evening, asking them what the hold-up was in getting inside. Eli returned to me, clearly puzzled that the line hadn’t moved at all.

Just as the pissed-off lady was coming back with one of the staff following closely behind her with a key ring, we heard the sound of the lock being turned on the door. By this time, Lindsey had come up behind me.

“What’s going on?” she asked, taking her place at the end of the line.

“I guess someone’s locked the door so no one else can get into the ladies’ lounge,” I replied with a shrug. The door opened and, I swear, my heart stopped for a slow-motioning second as I saw the guilty party step into the now-crowded hallway.