Confessions of a Bad Boy(28)
Jessie laughs and picks up her drink. “Sure. Anthropology was never my best subject.”
Before she follows the swaying frame of Alexandra, she places a gentle hand on my shoulder, and plants a kiss on my cheek. For the next two minutes, well after she’s left, the feeling of her lips against my cheek, a lock of her hair brushing against my brow, lingers like a sweet bruise. Robinson carries on talking, pulling a couple of the men beside him into the conversation, and I somehow go through the motions of shaking their hands, smiling, replying. But all I can think about is Jessie’s lips, so close to mine.
I suck down the rest of my whiskey, come hurtling back into the present moment like a shot, and forget about it as I start making the impression that I came here to make. Over the next hour, I meet, greet, and exchange ideas with people I’d have struggled to get a phone call with before. I catch up with some contacts, exchange cards with possible new ones, and even start the ball rolling on some potentially career-defining moves with industry players.
The bar starts filling up, and the laid-back, retirement-home-by-the-lake vibe that was there when I entered quickly morphs into the loud jousting of powerful people making powerful friends. Somewhere, a bell rings, and the producer I’m speaking to informs me that the sound means dinner will be served once everybody’s at the table. I look around for Jessie’s distinctly attractive head, but when I don’t see her I make my excuses and leave to go search for her.
After skirting the pool, checking out the lobby, and finding myself walking briskly down random corridors in search of my ‘girlfriend,’ I eventually realize that I’m lost. And with everyone having already made their way towards the outside dining area, there’s nobody to ask. I start walking a little quicker when I think I recognize a potted plant, and jog forward, turning a corner I hope will lead me back into the lobby.
It doesn’t. Instead, it leads me right into something warm, soft, and more than a little inviting.
“Nate…slow down. I’d hate to rush things.”
Lo and behold, it’s my favorite professional cougar, in the flesh and on the prowl. “Dominique?!” I exclaim, too quick to hold back my surprise. “What are you doing here?”
She raises an eyebrow curiously. “Didn’t expect me, Nate? You know you can always find me hanging with the big boys.” Her eyes rake me from top to bottom, and I cringe back.
“Sorry,” I say, trying to shuffle aside. “I’m just trying to get back in time for dinner.”
Dominique puts a hand on her hip and angles herself toward me.
“Do you have a big appetite?”
I laugh a little as I inch away, almost admiring her ability to flirt in a way that leaves you little choice but to flirt back.
“It’s this way, right?”
“Oh no, Nate,” she drawls, putting her hands against my chest and rolling them down my torso. I step back until there’s nothing behind me but hard wall. “The buffet’s right here.”
Pressing me up against the wall, I feel her knee push against the inside of my leg. She pulls gently down on the bottom of her tight shirt, revealing a couple more inches of cleavage to the few she’s already showing.
“Dominique,” I say, wiping the smile from my face to show I’m serious, “this really isn’t a good time.”
“It’s the perfect time. Everybody busy with their appetizers, I bet we’ll have a whole hour to ourselves. All the way in the corner of this mansion. Nobody to hear me scream.”
Nobody to hear me scream, either. “You do realize I’m here with my girlfriend, right?”
She barely acknowledges me as she begins to unbutton my shirt. I grab her hand, and she twists it away, then smacks it against her ass.
“No you’re not. You’re here with me, Nate.”
With my hand held firmly against her ass, and her knee working the tip of my cock more expertly than most women can manage with their fingers, it’s getting pretty hard to hold myself back. If I don’t do something to get rid of Dominique soon, I might end up doing something regretful with her instead.
“Ms. Ferreira!”
We both flick our heads in the direction of the voice, and I breathe a huge sigh of relief to see Jessie walking towards us. Dominique pulls away slightly and I slide out from between her and the wall.
“Yes?” Dominique intones, making no effort to hide her displeasure.
“It’s me! Jess—”
“Tessa!” I call out, loudly. Smiling like a goofball.
“Right!” Jessie quickly agrees, smiling at Dominique as if catching her faux-fiancé getting sexually mauled in the hallway is just about the most entertaining thing she’s ever seen. “We work together on the show.”
Dominique gazes at Jessie like she’s speaking another language.
“The costume department,” Jessie continues. “I do most of your outfits.”
“Oh,” Dominique says, with only a vague inclination that she remembers. “I see.”
I walk towards Jessie, put my hand on her side, then flash her a quick wink before kissing her on the lips – too concerned with how this is going to play out to worry about feeling anything. I turn back to Dominique.
“Dominique, meet my girlfriend. Tessa, Dominique.”
Dominique nods and slowly smiles as she pieces it together.