Folsom (End of Men, #1)(39)

“Ah, Folsom, meet my niece, Beatriz.” She looks down at the little girl. “No, B, this is not your daddy. Your daddy’s name is Jackal.”

“Like the aminal,” she agrees.

I crouch down on my haunches and look into the little girl’s face. “I know your daddy,” I tell her. “He’s my friend.”

It’s the first time I’ve ever announced my friendship with Jackal, and saying it out loud gives me a sense of pride. She smiles so big her eyes disappear and then she runs off, her fiery hair trailing behind her.

“We’re hoping to give her a cousin.” Langley smiles. “Preferably a male one.”

“It’s safer to be born a girl,” I say.

Langley frowns, a practiced gesture she’s perfected. “But where’s the glory in that?”

It strikes me then that Langley is the competitive type. With both her friend and Gwen pregnant, she won’t be outdone.

“Twins would be ideal,” she says. “Boy twins.”

I flinch at the idea and Langley’s laughter fills the room. “They run in my family,” she tells me. “You don’t have to worry about me, Folsom.” She runs a finger along my jaw. “I’m no novice when it comes to men. I’ve had Jackal—a few times actually. Unfortunately our coupling didn’t end in pregnancy.” She frowns at that part and I wonder how hard she took it when her sister got pregnant and she didn’t. I’d seen female disappointment turn into anger; it was a gale of accusations and blame.

After some light conversation, we make our way up to her bedroom where she offers me the obligatory drink. I accept it this time and wait in a chair while she mixes it. I expect her to take a different seat, but instead she straddles me, her own drink in her hand.

“I’ve heard that you can’t strain yourself,” she says, rubbing her free hand along my chest.

“We can do it like this…”

She puts on quite a show. Eventually I have to close my eyes or I’ll laugh. She does this thing with her mouth that she intends to be sexy, but it’s more like a horse baring its teeth. I’ll have to ask Jackal if he remembers her.

“Look at me,” she cries out.

I ignore her and nearly tell her to stop talking. I picture Gwen and wish I could suck her top lip right now. My dick pulses and I go faster, imagining it’s her warmth that I’m fucking. Langley’s braying brings me back to reality, but I’m close enough that I power through it.

She leans down and kisses me, still breathing hard. “That was incredible,” she purrs.

I open my eyes and now all I see is the horse face. I smile. “You should lie down. I’ll go get cleaned up. When is everyone arriving?”

“Oh, they’re here already.” She runs her fingers through my hair. “I’ll join you in the shower,” she says against my mouth.

I back away. “Go lie down.” My tone leaves no room for argument.

“Fine.”

She pouts as she climbs off of me then walks backward to the bed, rubbing her nipples. I walk to the bathroom and when she tries to get in with me a few minutes later, I rinse and turn the shower off.

“I don’t think that time took,” she whispers, palming my dick. “This time it will.”

I brush her hand off and step out of the shower. Her arms wrap around my chest and I turn around to face her, pulling her hands off of me.

“I’ve fulfilled my contract and now I need you to back off and be respectful of my space.”

Her mouth drops and her eyes spit fire. “Sounds like someone is an entitled bastard. Are you really buying into what all those protesters are saying? You think you have rights?” She laughs.

I put on my suit as Langley lies on the bed, striking another pose. If I grabbed her ass right now, she’d still beg me to fuck her, angry or not.

“Jackal was better,” she says.

I nod. “That’s because he enjoys it.”

It is my duty to be charming to these women, have them believe I enjoy their sex and their company. But my patience is worn thin, and my mind is preoccupied with worry.

We make our way downstairs together, her arm clasped possessively through mine like we’re a couple descending on our guests. And that’s exactly what we walk right into, at least two hundred of Langley’s guests, all sipping champagne and beaming up at us like we’re the bride and groom. It’s not lost on me that she chose an ivory dress, or that she has her hair braided, the long coil of it thrown over her shoulder and threaded with tiny white flowers, a customary style for brides. We near the bottom of the stairs and I see a familiar face in the crowd. I immediately jerk my arm from Langley’s grasp. Gwen looks from Langley to me, a wounded expression on her face. I want to go to her, but people are saying my name and asking me questions. I catch her eyes, trying to communicate what I’m feeling. She turns and walks away.

Governor Petite finds me several minutes later. She has Gwen’s mother on her arm and is looking pleased with herself.

“Hope you’re enjoying the party, Folsom.” She clinks glasses with me. “You remember Diana, of course,” she says of Gwen’s mother. I incline my head and Diana Allison smiles.

“Ah, here she is!” the governor says. I turn to see Langley approaching from behind. “I don’t know of anyone more deserving of a baby than our Langley. She runs all of the Red’s charity events and still finds time to volunteer at the home for the elderly. She’s truly the best of us.”