That’s my girl.
Upping the pace of my thrusts, I press into her over and over, chasing the drug that she’s become. It’s one that I’ll happily be addicted to. Her * clenches like a silk noose around me, and I can feel it tighten one last time as her orgasm rocks her body. Her eyes fixed on the mirror watching exactly what I do to her. Not long after that, her * milks me to one of the best orgasms I have ever had.
I untie the knot and ease Savannah’s arms out from behind her back. I wrap my arms around her, burying my face in her curls.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Hm-mmm,” she says, her eyes closed. “Thank you.” I could get lost in this. Mine. The thought comes out of nowhere, and I don’t know what to do with it.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Cash
My time having Savannah all to myself comes to an end all too quickly. It’s another work thing, and this one couldn’t fit in my waistband. A trip—a quick one, she promises—but it’s still taking her halfway across the country.
It’s a surprise trip, something to do with a promotion at work. It came out of nowhere. I know because I was there when she got the call early one morning, and I distracted her while she packed before driving her to the airport. I tried to tell myself this was exactly what we needed to help slow things down. Ease us out of this wild frenzy.
Doesn’t matter if I can still feel her thighs squeeze my head while I lick her to orgasm—we need a break.
I need time to think, but watching her walk into the airport, head buried in her phone made me want to screw being friends—even ones who fit together so well under the sheets. She could meet someone in Los Angeles and the stars above know she’s got some crazy five year personal plan. I was just about ready to charge after her, when she turned at the last second and flashed me a smile. It was worth the pissed off cop to see the way she looked at me.
The bar is busy, but Katie is picking things up like a natural. She’ll be more than capable of taking over Altitude when we open The Library. Ryder and I are keeping our understood peace treaty. There haven’t been any more almost brawls. Jackson and Parker are taking this as the opportunity to shove a few more details at us. Final plan sort of things. Liquor orders. What the opening would be like. Guest lists. It goes on and on and on. Jackson is becoming more of a workaholic than Savannah.
When this is over, we’ll all need a long weekend by Jackson’s pool.
*
With Savannah out for the week, we’ve started exchanging text messages. Pretty easy, nothing real committal, just casual—at least, that’s what I tell myself.
Me: How’s the weather?
Savannah: I think I like California—so many shirtless men. So little time.
Me: Careful Savy, I don’t like sharing.
Savannah: And what are you going to do to me when I’m all the way out here?
Me: When you come home you’ll find out.
Savannah: That a promise?
Me: Abso-fucking-lutely.
Savannah: And what if I decide to stay out here with the surfers?
Me: I’ll fly out there and drag you back.
I stop at that text. It’s meant to be a joke, but the idea that Savannah is off finding other men makes me want to get on a plane. What sort of business trip is this if she has that much time to go to the beach and scope out hot guys?
Relax I tell myself, it’s a joke. I just happen to not find it very fucking funny.
The next night, I’m overseeing Katie running the bar at Altitude when my phone goes off. I grab for it.
Savannah: I’m coming back early.
Me: Surfers didn’t do it for you?
Savannah: I have a date with Mr. Fuckable. It better be worth giving up my surfers.
I smile at the phone.
“Cash,” Katie yells, “You mind mixing seven margaritas?” I get to action not giving our ‘date’ any more thought. Although I have to admit, I’m suddenly looking forward to the weekend. Fuck this break. It’s time to be balls deep in my girl.
My apartment has never been what I would call spacious, but it works for me. Shuffling through more bills, I come up with another post card from Knox—this time Florida. We keep him updated on what we’re doing with his money—not that much of it is his money at this point. The four of us could buy him out, but he’s family, and opening a new club wouldn’t be the same without him. He comes back every other year and stays less than twelve hours before he’s on a plane again. Whatever’s chasing him, we don’t ask. If it ever follows him home, we’ll deal with it.
He’s our major investor and has never made any pretenses about wanting to spend time tending the day to day. He’s the silent partner, and for whatever reasons he wants it to stay that way. We’ve all got secrets. If he doesn’t push to find out mine, I’m okay letting him keep his.