Bad Things(114)
“You can’t even tell your f*ck anonymous group about it. In fact, you especially can’t tell them.”
I nodded again, simply dying to know now. “I swear I won’t tell a soul, not even Tristan.”
“Well, him you could probably tell, because, as I said, he’s about to join the club.”
“Oh my God! Tell me now! You’re killing me!”
She leaned in close, whispering into my ear. “James Cavendish.”
I was floored. He was so rich, and polished, and sophisticated, and well, just plain beautiful. “Are you shitting me?”
She shook her head. “He’s into the hardcore stuff, though, nothing you’d be on board for, trust me. He makes me look like a soft Master, and I am not that.”
I rolled this around in my head for a good ten minutes before I spoke. I was fascinated by the idea that someone that high profile, could have such an unusual sexual preference and it not be public knowledge.
“That’s crazy,” I finally said.
She nodded. “I know. But doesn’t it make him even hotter?”
I laughed, because there was no denying it; even to a lesbian, the man was hot. “I’m not sure. It really depends on what you mean by hardcore. I’m not into pain.”
“Pain is what I mean. Yes, you can be sure that one is not for you. Though I do hear that he is spectacular in bed.”
I let out a dreamy sigh, thinking of Tristan. “So is Tristan. Spectacular.”
“Fan-f*cking-tastic! Let’s drink to that!” She signaled the bartender for another round of tequila shots.
“He’s so big. Like huge. I never imagined I could enjoy a man with a cock that big. It was…intimidating at first. I mean, I’m small, how could he fit?”
Frankie was laughing so hard that she had to put both hands on the bar. “Oh my God! I love you so hard when you’re tipsy!”
“Do you think he’s, like, stretching me out? I mean, he must be, because we can f*ck really hard now, and at first it took him a while just to work himself inside.” I had the very lucid thought that I must be really drunk to be talking like this.
She was still dying with laughter, just shaking her head, again and again.
“Is that possible? Could that be where the term loose comes from?”
“I don’t think it works that way,” she gasped. “Babies come out of that thing.”
I nodded, thinking fuzzily that she had a good point. “And he absolutely loves eating my *. Like, he could do it all day, he loves it so much. I didn’t think a man could be like that, so into getting me off.”
She was back to laughing hard and clutching the edge of the bar. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I’m not recording this. You are my favorite drunk ever. Let’s drink to Tristan’s oral fixation, because if anyone can appreciate going down on a girl, it would be me. Maybe he and I are like * eating soul mates, because I could eat a snatch all day.”
I was giggling so hard that it took me three tries to grab the shot the bartender slid me. “You’re so bad,” I told her, dissolving into another fit of giggles.
We were both blitzed by the time the band finished their set. I cheered loudly as the small crowd went wild, then watched with longing as they left the stage, heading somewhere in back.
“I’ve only been fifty feet away from him all night, and I still missed him. Isn’t that nuts?”
“Totally. It’s also sweet. You’ve got it bad, huh?”
“So bad.”
“Well, he’s got it bad, too. Don’t you ever forget it.”
I just shook my head, unable to admit out loud that he didn’t, or if he did, he sure wasn’t telling me about it.
I felt someone kiss the top of my head, and swiveled around to see that it was Jared, not Tristan, as I’d been expecting. I grinned, nearly as happy to see him. I hopped off my barstool, giving him an exuberant hug.
“Good job! You guys were amazing, as always.”
“Thanks, sis,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. He pulled back, studying my face. “You’re sloshed, aren’t you?”
I nodded. “It’s you and your brother’s fault. I’m trying to train my liver to keep up with your lifestyle. I need to shape up to stay in the picture.”
He stroked an affectionate hand over my hair. “You don’t have to change a thing. You’re perfect just the way you are.”