He was right. Since the night of Lilly’s party, I had been feeling off—uptight—angry. I thought getting revenge on Devin would make everything feel better, but it didn’t. All that night got me was fucked up nose, two black eyes, and a pissed-off mother once Mrs. Sheffield, Lilly’s mom, gave her a call.
Rich women ran in packs like fucking chatty wolves, ready to gossip about and pick apart their prey. I should have known my mom would hear of it and bitch. She was always bitching about something.
I was a grown man.
Why the fuck was my mommy getting phone calls like I was a third grader?
It pissed me off.
Still, I was feeling itchy and ready for a confrontation.
“Pussy won’t fix this. I’m restless. I’m bored.”
And I was.
Life was getting monotonous. All my friends were settling down, career choices made, and lives figured out, but that wasn’t me. It wasn’t the life I wanted, but at the same time, I hated being behind the crowd. Jonathan was the only friend I had left who was still down to party. I wasn’t worried about him settling down anytime soon.
“Pussy fixes everything, Matt.” He chuckled, taking another swig from his drink.
Lounging in his chair, he directed his face toward the sky and let the sun bake him.
“Listen,” he said without looking at me. “Have a drink and lounge in the sun. We’ll go to The Waterfront later tonight and bring a little party to Charleston. That’ll loosen you up a bit.”
Sprawled out on Jonathan’s father’s yacht with a drink in my hand and the sun on my cheeks, I still couldn’t shake the feeling buried in my center.
What was it I needed?
I couldn’t figure that out, and it was strange for me since I usually had everything I wanted. I only knew that every now and again when I closed my eyes, a memory of scarlet hair and jade eyes flashed through my mind.
The entire situation with Devin had turned to shit, and I didn’t really accomplish anything besides pushing them together. One good thing did happen that night, though. I fell into the arms of the first woman to catch my attention in a long while.
Having sex with the same type of girl was starting to bore me. She was different all around. Different body style, a different reaction to my flirting, but most importantly, she seemed disgusted by me, which was nice for a change.
I was sick of ass kissers and money chasers.
She was far from that. At least, the ass-kissing part. I had no clue if she was a paper chaser.
But it didn’t matter either way. I wanted her.
I was even considering stupid things like going back to the jewelry store to flirt, but I probably needed to stay away from that place. My revenge scheme hadn’t worked, and honestly, I’d lost a decent friend in Devin. I didn’t have many of those—Jonathan being the last friend I had left—so making another stupid move wasn’t in my best interest.
“Why’s it so dead up here?” Curtis, Jonathan’s younger brother, asked as he climbed the stairs to the top deck. “I thought you boys would have planned a party for the weekend.”
He was basically a smaller, younger version of Jonathan. Jonathan had been a football star in his high school and had gone on to a prestigious college where he earned a worthless two-year degree, but Curtis hadn’t even done that. Like Jonathan and me, he lived off his family’s money.
“Piss off, Curtis,” Jonathan said, lighting a cigarette and taking yet another pull from his glass. “No one wants to party with you. Every time we do, you piss yourself and pass out.”
“Once!” Curtis shouted, sitting in the chair beside us. “I pass out one fucking time, and you refuse to let that shit go.”
“Nope,” Jonathan said, popping the P with his lips.
Later that night, we made an appearance at one of Charleston’s exclusive bars, The Waterfront. It was a nice piece of property, and The Waterfront bar had a good crowd. Square sectionals covered in weather-friendly tweed lined by industrial tables crowded the outside deck. Palm trees lit from their bases bordered the deck, backed by the Carolina sky and the famous Arthur Ravenel Jr. Bridge.
The place was packed; people spilled out of the bar and onto the outside deck until the unseasonally humid air around us began to feel even more suffocating. I knew almost everyone there—all money and no morals. There was cash to be spent falling out of the pockets of the rich in hopes of showing off. I sat in the corner with Jonathan and Curtis, enjoying the occasional fall breeze sliding off the water as it cut through the palms and skimmed my hair.
Dangling a glass of scotch from my fingertips, I drowned the uneasy feeling inside with expensive alcohol and loud music.
“Hey, Matthew,” Corrine purred in my ear.
I hadn’t seen in her about two months, but she used to be my favorite late-night booty call.
She was all tit, paid for by the last rich fuck she’d landed.
“Hey, pretty girl, how have you been?”
Opening my arms, I accepted her when she curled into my lap.
Her skirt rode up her thighs, allowing a bit of ass cheek loose, and her expensive Valentino pumps dug into my leg. She was tiny, yet she was still a lap full.
“I’m better now,” she said in my ear so I could hear her well.
The music seemed to get louder with each passing hour.
She flicked her wavy, brunette hair from her shoulder and bit her bottom lip sensually.
“Seems I always make your night better, huh?” I grinned over my glass before I swallowed the rest of the brown liquid.
It burned my throat, and I welcomed the sting.
“You’re such a flirt.” She giggled, pushing at my shoulder.
“You love it.”
They all did.
“I know something I love more.”
I knew, too.
Sex.
She wanted my cock, and she would get it.
I patted the back of her ass and nodded toward the bathrooms. “You get a head start. I’ll meet you there in a bit.”
She grinned and climbed from my lap. After she disappeared into the crowd, I swallowed the last of my drink.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” I said, standing from my chair.
“Lucky fuck,” Jonathan muttered when I walked by.
Corrine was waiting where I told her to wait, and I got straight to the deed, turning her around and flipping her skirt up over her naked ass. Dirty girls never wore panties.
As I took her from behind in the women’s bathroom, the smacking of our bodies echoing loudly all around us, it occurred to me I was no longer enjoying sex the way I used to. It was a motion, an action that came so naturally to me that I sometimes did it without feeling. I fucked, literally, with my eyes closed until either I came or my dick went limp from trying for so long.
Opening my eyes, I took in the area around us. All luxury and straight lines. Marble countertops and fresh flowers. They even had a lounger couch in the corner like the women who pissed in their establishment needed a moment to gather themselves before the leaving the restroom.
Who the fuck put a couch in their bathroom?
Rich fucks.