That One Moment (Lost in London #2)(43)



“What makes me jiggly?” Julie asks, narrowing her Asian eyes at Frank. It’s a good question because she is petite by any standards, and dressed in a red mini skirt and red tank, there’s not much I can see jiggling on her. Before Frank replies, a Prince song kicks on and Julie screams and runs into the living room to dance, dragging Finley and Leslie with her.

“See what I mean?” Frank asks, circling his finger by his temple. “I’d avoid her if I were you. Her boyfriend, Mitch, moved out last week and she’s a ticking time bomb, that one. You remember Oxford,” he says, gesturing to Reyna who’s striding over from the other side of the table. “You can call her Rey or Bitch Face. She answers to both. I’ve checked.”

“Rey works,” she replies flatly, glaring at Frank and then smiles sincerely at me. She looks fierce in a pair of red leather pants and a red sleeveless tee, revealing her extensively inked arms. Her dark hair is loose and wild down her back, making me feel slightly overdressed as I smooth my low ponytail. I eye Rey curiously, as I consider what kind of relationship Hayden had with her, but then internally kick myself for even thinking about him again.

“And I am Ameerah, child,” a large dark-skinned woman peels as she comes strolling into the dining room from the kitchen. She’s wearing a head wrap and holding a cocktail looking perfectly at ease with herself in a red and white print moo moo.

“Ame brings the cocks,” Frank crows.

“The what?” I nearly choke on my drink.

“Let us begin, Frank,” Ameerah says in a thick Caribbean accent.

Frank releases me to gather everyone around the table and props us in our assigned chairs. Ameerah makes a grand gesture of pulling back the red cloth to reveal a table full of…

Cocks.

Loads and loads of scary looking cocks.

Bugger, that one has three heads.

“A new hot dog!” Leslie crows. “Frank, you shouldn’t have!”

I look around confused as Ameerah begins her speech. Apparently she owns a sex toy boutique in Brixton and I have found myself smack dab in the middle of a sex toy hen party.

“I’m definitely going to need one of these.” Julie hiccups in my ear and grabs up a pink looking thing in front of me. It’s shaped like the letter C and I’m not even sure how it would work. “Since I’m newly single and all.”

“Brody would go gaga for these, Finny!” Leslie laughs and chucks a sack of cock rings at her.

“Um, these are to make the guy last longer and Brody has zero problem there, thanks.” Finley tosses them over to me.

I eye the toys nervously as Ameerah begins describing the uses for each item individually. I wouldn’t say I’m sexually prude, but I definitely don’t have a drawer of sex toys. I’ve only had two partners and neither of them seemed too keen on experimenting with BOBs. And I certainly don’t need anything to help pleasure myself.

“See anything you like, Vi?” Frank asks from the other side of me.

I grab a small garment box with a pair of hot pink lace knickers sitting inside.

“That’s French silk,” Ameerah purrs, sauntering over to me. “I own a fabric store next to my husband’s sex store. I commission all the lingerie from a designer I know.”

“And it’s not me!” Leslie whines. “I don’t have time to sew anything anymore. I had to buy my own wedding dress for Pete’s sake.”

I smile fondly at Leslie. She always did have a great eye for technique. It’s a big reason why she did all the China trips before she had Marisa. I’m better at digital design, but I’m becoming more well-rounded in her absence now.

“Your dress is beautiful, Lez,” Finley rebuffs and rubs Leslie’s bare arms affectionately.

“I know…but it’s not an original.” Suddenly, her eyes alight with a renewed sense of purpose. “However! I might have some time to do some tweaking to it now that Jaci’s on the scene! That’s Jaci…no K!”

I try to school my features to look surprised while Leslie tells the group about Jaci being her new wedding coordinator. Apparently she tackled nine things off the list while Leslie got her hair done today. “Guys, I think I might have a lady boner for Jaci. She’s scary and reminds me a bit of that mean British chef, Gordon Ramsey, but it’s kind of a turn on! Maybe I should get her a present.” She giggles and begins riffling through the products.

I’m relieved to see Leslie embracing the coordinator. That’s exactly what I wanted her to do. However, if she knew it was me who paid for Jaci’s assistance, she most certainly would refuse the help. But when I turned twenty-one, I received a large trust from my dad. I have never done a lot with the money, except purchase the lease on my flat, so it felt good to spend my money this way.

I knock back a couple more cocktails and relish in the fact that none of these women are like the women I went to school with. Perhaps because most of them are happily coupled off? Or, perhaps it’s because they don’t have a clue or care in the world about who my family is, which is usually the deal-breaker for me and my new girlfriends. Regardless, this group feels so down-to-earth and completely unaffected by trivial London society troubles. It’s refreshing.

The night takes a wicked turn when Leslie disappears into the bathroom to try some warming lube on her wobbly bits. I’ve never laughed as hard as when she came waltzing out in her beautiful dress like she had just stepped off a horse. You’d think that would scare everyone away, but Finley ran in to try the same product!

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