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Authors: Perri Forrest

Rapture (9 page)

BOOK: Rapture
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~
8
~

Rush

 

 

That night

 

Alika had ditched me as soon as we made it inside Chaos and had found her way over to the bar. I was initially surprised because for some reason I thought she would be a bit standoffish at first. But she was far from that. I watched her interact and the ease with which she did it. She was for sure a people person, and it was extremely attractive. She had on a denim jumpsuit number that hugged her small waist, and that was smoothly coated across her plump ass and breasts, like she was the only one who could fit it. Like it was made with her in mind. She had the first few buttons undone, and her impressive cleavage peeked through in a way that wasn’t too provocative, but just provocative enough. Every time she smiled, or laughed, I could see her dimples even across the room. She was a gorgeous woman, and very easy to be around. The kiss that we had shared earlier was something to remember, and her lips were everything I thought they would be. Even when I pulled her to me to get a better taste of her, I couldn’t help thinking about how bad I wanted to be inside of her, taste other parts of her body, and make her moan. But she had put an abrupt stop to it all, when she allowed what I’m sure were unnecessary thoughts to cloud her judgment. Nevertheless, I knew that when the time was right, she’d be back in my arms, and subsequently, in my bed. I was sure of it.

“Man! Have you ever seen so many women in one place in your life?” And just like that, I was shaken from my reverie by Bart’s annoying ass voice. He was busy looking around with lust in his eyes, at the plethora of women in the club. I was looking too, but not for the same reasons as Bart. He was looking to get laid, where I was paying attention to how many more women seemed to be frequenting Chaos, than normal. It had been that way for the past few months, and the numbers seemed to have increase. I spotted one girl who I was sure I had seen with that douche Curtis. When he kept calling me “bar boy”, it dawned on me that where I had seen him was here. But he wasn’t a regular; he’d show up every now and again. I wondered if that particular chick was somebody he was banging, but then just as quickly as I began to wonder, I began to not give a fuck.

I took a swig of the Jack & Coke in my hand, and chuckled at Bart. I was amazed at just how woman-crazy he was. He was a straight pussy hound. Even thinking back to us as teenagers, I couldn’t remember any of our friends ever being as hard up as he was. He had it bad too. He bedded anything that even blinked in his direction. He wasn’t selective about the chicks he banged at all. Sometimes all I could do was watch in amazement because it was like watching a kid in a jellybean factory, who knew he couldn’t eat all of them, but was willing to take whatever he could.

“Yeah, there
are
a lot of women in here. But you need to calm down, cowboy,” I told him. “I'm sure your lawfully wedded wife would be less than enthused to hear her husband getting so excited about kitty cat—
that isn't hers
.”


Mannn
, you sure know how to bring a mood down!”

“Well, it’s true. I don’t need to tell you that shit. You know she wouldn’t be okay with that.”

Bart nonchalantly flexed his shoulders, before responding: “I can look as long as I don’t touch, right?”

“Absolutely, my friend! Only thing is…you haven’t yet grabbed onto the concept of looking and
not
touching.”

“Dammit, Rush!” he admonished. “When the fuck did you become a damn life coach? Can you come out the fucking morality corner? You know how the saying goes: ‘What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her’. So, I’m good.”

I sighed aloud, taking another swig of my drink. “If you say so, Bart. If you say so.”

“Well, let’s see how long you’re able to stay faithful when
you
get married; since you’ve all of a sudden assigned yourself as
my
judge and jury.”

I nodded at Bart’s comment. It cracked me up that he was getting riled up for no reason. Well, wait, there actually was a reason; he felt guilty.

“I’m not getting married, Bart. I already know that my dick has needs.”

“Well, then there you have it. You have nothing to worry about. But it doesn’t give you the right to badger me!”

I chuckled at his behavior. “Dude! Why are your defenses up? Don’t get mad at me because I struck a nerve.
You
were the one bunking in
my
guest house for three nights in a row crying your eyes out the last time you
touched
when you were only supposed to be
looking
. I’m just saying, she’s not gonna take you back next time. And you’re not crashing at my place again. Because of you and all that fucking consoling, and reassuring I had to do, I have a no whining zone. That shit tired me the fuck out!”

He glared at me with eyes that were quickly glazing over. He’d had one Godfather too many, and the liquor was starting to kick in. As entertained as I wanted to be watching him in action, I already knew he would be beneath Chaos, in my man cave, or I’d be sending him home in a cab. More than likely the former, because Jillian didn’t want him home when he was on some Scott Disick shit.

Behind Bart’s back, I subtly swiped my hand across my neck, signaling Nikki, one of the bartenders, so that she would know to cut Bart off. But I knew that he was probably already three or four drinks ahead of the game. But better late than never.

“…and my defenses
are not up
,” Bart continued, refusing to bury the topic. I had already forgotten what we were talking about, but apparently he hadn’t.

“Okay…” I remarked, alongside a deliberate smirk.

But again, Bart insisted. “They’re
not
up! But all of a sudden you’re judging,” he spat.

“I’m done talking about that dumb shit! Why the fuck are you still going on about it? Look, it’s your fuckin’ life, man. If
you
don’t give a fuck,
I
don’t give a fuck. I was just trying to keep you out of trouble. I don’t feel like being in the middle of yours and Jillian’s shit,” I enforced. “And I sure as hell don’t feel like hearing her blame me for shit that her grown ass man does. And you know that’s what she’ll do! I know you don’t want to see your wife get told where to go, and how to get there, because that’s exactly what’ll happen if she gets in my face again like the last time.”

Bart looked at me, and calmly nodded his head. Patting me on the shoulder, he said: “You know what, dude?” he said, a bit more coherent than he was minutes earlier. “I think you’re right. I’m gonna call it a night and head out of here before I end up down the path of no return—
again
.”

“I think that’s a wise idea. Why don’t you leave your car here, and call a cab. You’ve had a bit too much to be getting behind the wheel. I doubt you want the wife picking you up, and I still need to be here for a bit, so I can’t take you.”

He sat his glass down on the end of the bar, and fist bumped with me. “Got ya. I’ll check in with you later.”

And then he was off…

 

~*~*~

 

“How have things been, Papa?” the woman moaned in his hear, while unbuttoning, and then removing Bart’s shirt. “I haven’t seen you around in a while. What brought you out tonight? You know I was getting slightly jealous watching you look at all those women,” she pouted. “I’m a
very
territorial girl when it comes to my guy.”

Aside from his pleasure-filled grunts, Bart was quiet, as the woman did what she did so well. He had no plans on entertaining her comments. His reaction to the moment was enough.
Just take the dick and shut up, already
. His purpose for being with women outside of his marriage wasn’t to engage in silly ass conversation, it was for the sheer purpose of getting his rocks off. Jillian was the woman he loved, but she had a lot lacking in the area of making her man feel wanted; yet Bart was nowhere near the point where he could see himself without her, which was why he was extremely careful with his extracurricular activities. If Jillian found out that he had made the same mistake again, she would leave him for good, and she might even gut him as a finale.

The minute he spotted Bianca, Bart’s dick began a twitching motion behind his slacks and he knew it was playtime, so he caved to what Rush was talking about. He managed to convince Rush that all was well, and then made a mad dash out of Chaos
.
He wasn’t in the mood for lectures on how he should be behaving, and what the fuck the consequences were. What he was in the mood for was the pussy that was currently bobbing up and down atop his dick in the backseat of his Mercedes that was parked in a darkened area, several blocks away from the bar. Bart’s head was resting on the back of his leather seat, as he was serviced. And Bianca knew just what she was doing. His dick was still as hard as it was when she first slid down on it half an hour earlier.

“This dick is the best dick, ever, daddy! Feels good! Yesss! Sooo good!”

Bart’s hands tightly gripped the woman’s hips to steady her pace so that he could prepare to empty his nut inside of her. However, just as he was about to reach peak, there was a light rapture at the back window. In the back of his mind, Bart heard the tap, but he was busy, and too determined to get what he came for. Moments later, his ejaculation absconded in a fierce flow, through the tip of his dick, and at that exact second, he and his lover simultaneously exploded in a synchronization of deep moans. But even with Bart’s eyes closed while he reveled in the victory, he saw the flash come through his vehicle’s window. His entire heart was about to leap from his chest as his eyes darted open, and he looked through the glass to find that he had visitors—plural.

“You okay, lover?” the woman asked, planting a single kiss on the tip of his nose. But Bart was in sheer shock. Too shocked to react or respond to anything. Bianca teased her juices across him one last time, and then lifted her leg to off-board from his now-flaccid member. She smoothed her dress around her in the process.

One of the spectators smiled as he spoke from the other side of the window. “Hey, man. I’ll wait for you to get dressed so I can holler at your real quick.”

“Shit…” Bart sighed in confusion. “One sec.”

The spectator smiled at him, as Bianca exited the vehicle and tossed her head side to side while she fingered her wavy tresses back in place. Moments later, she had disappeared into the back of the pearl Escalade that was parked directly in front of Bart’s car. Bart had no idea what the fuck was going on, but something told him it wasn’t good at all.

Bart made his way outside the vehicle, and addressed the man. “What the fuck is going on, Jacob?” he sternly asked, while tucking his shirt inside his pants.

“I don’t know. You tell me. Last I heard Jillian had just taken you back for spreading yourself like mayonnaise around these parts. Now, here you are in the backseat of your car fuckin’ a broad,” he said, leaning in close to Bart. “And fuckin’ her
good
, too! I mean, damn, I was hoping you were okay in there with the way you were grunting like a wounded buck. And see, that confuses me…” he said, as he took to replaying a video on his phone. “…because if I’m not mistaken, I don’t see a fuckin’ rubber anywhere in sight,” he mockingly stated. “I mean, shit,
she is a bad bitch
, but that’s just nasty and reckless for a married man,” he said, shaking his head.

Bart wanted to grab his ex-friend and bash his fucking head atop his car until it split the fuck open, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t because he knew that no matter the amount of disdain he felt, without a doubt he couldn’t take Jacob. He’d tried when they were kids and again in college, and even with a few inches over Jacob, he’d failed both times.

“I can see how red you are even in the dark, Bart. Pissed, huh? Maybe even confused; or maybe embarrassed? Shit, I think I might be all of those if I was literally caught with my pants down. That’s all kinds of fucked up.”

“What the fuck do you want, Jacob? The fuck are you even doing out here?”

“It’s not obvious, Bart? I’m watching you. I brought you goodies that I knew you couldn’t resist.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that Bianca’s with me. I hope she was good. But then again, she’s always good, right? You’ve fucked her a few times.”

“Shit man. What the hell? Stop playing little boy games, Jacob! Get to the point.”

“It’s pretty simple, really. I know how shit is with you and Jillian because of your obsession with pussy that ain’t your wife’s. You’ve been something of a pussy hound since we were younger. No surprise there.”

“How do you know shit about my marriage?”

“It’s called six-degrees of separation,” he smiled. “One of my colleagues’ wives is a friend of your wife. Information gets exchanged between women when they go through shit. They confide in each other and shit like that. So, even though I don’t fuck with you, I still have connections to your life. Shit, whether I want them or not. So let’s just say that it’s either keep your wife, or—”

Bart was outraged. “
Or what
?” he yelled, forgetting it was past midnight in a residential area.

BOOK: Rapture
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