A Betty's Pledge: Volume One (36 page)

Movie night cancelled. Meet us by the pool in 20 for lunch. Wear the black one-piece—Mina

The black one-piece, I thought. How the hell did she know about that one?

Not sure I feel up to it ~ Mady

I don’t care if you feel up to it. You’re going—Mina

I growled, not liking the idea. I was much more comfortable in my state of blissful
oblivion, a cloud of cotton surrounding me and my mind preoccupied with the precarious
adventures of Pip. That kind of drama I could handle. Seeing Isaac again surrounded
by bikini-clad women he was probably going to fuck next week . . .

I didn’t even want to think about that. And I wouldn’t address why I didn’t want to
think about it.

I set my phone on my nightstand, stubbornly ignoring the steady chimes going off every
minute or so. When the fifth one went off, followed by a hasty sixth, I knew I should
answer before my best friend came barreling through my door.

Put the book down, Mady—Mina

Are you ignoring me?—Mina

Mady! Pick up the phone!—Mina

You suck, do you know that?—Mina

I’ll send Zack up there!—Mina

Madeline Cain, you’re making me red. I don’t look good in red!—Mina

I laughed, picturing my friend getting all flustered by my lack of response. She never
did well when someone told her no. Against my better judgment, I closed by book and
sent her a text back.

I acquiesce ~ Mady

I knew you would. See you in ten.—Mina

Hey, what happened to twenty? ~ Mady

Well, when you ignore me like a bitch, your time gets cut. Suck it up. Love ya!—Mina

It took me all of three minutes to get ready. I found the black one-piece and stepped
out of my robe.

I sighed once it was on, heading to the mirror to check out how I looked. The silky
fabric fit me like a glove, hugging my curves without making me look like a sausage
being squeezed. The top had a deep plunging neckline, landing right above my belly
button. The back was low, too, resting just above the curve of my ass. It was sexy
yet demure.

I had to admit, it really was comfortable. The suit wasn’t like those horrible string
bikinis. When I had one of those on, I constantly had to check myself, making sure
a nipple hadn’t escaped the flimsy covering. This cut fit my body perfectly, leaving
just the right amount of skin visible, showing off my curves without looking too needy
or desperate.

I looked myself over in the mirror, satisfied and a little more confident than before.
Deciding to leave my hair in the waves from my earlier shower, I swiped a little mascara
on my lashes and gloss on my lips. Ready as I’d ever be, I grabbed my shades and headed
out my door.

The vast expanse of the outdoor pool rivaled that of Hearst’s Greek-inspired oasis.
The surroundings were completely white, making the blue of the water stark and bright.
The edge of the pool disappeared into the horizon, making it look like the end of
it fell down the high cliffs that bordered the property. There were several cabanas
that housed fluffy white lounges, and they were filled with a couple of the Consorts
and mated pairs. A few of the Betties were sprinkled throughout the yard, each scantily
clad in the offensive bikinis I’d earlier cursed. Of course, they all look great in
theirs, seeming to have not one problem keeping their girlie bits at bay.

“Mady!” Sarah waved me over, an orange cocktail in her hand.

“Hey girls,” I said brightly, taking the bluish looking concoction Marissa handed
to me without question. I took a sip as the others waited my approval. The bitter
taste of vodka barely registered among the sweet taste of blueberry and coconut.

“It’s gorgeous out here, right?” Sarah asked, scanning her environment with an appreciative
eye. I followed her gaze, landing on a smaller group of Consorts sitting by a white
set of table and chairs. Small beads of water glinted off bare chests, rolling enticingly
down ripped abdomens until finally subsiding between loosely worn board shorts. Sarah
sighed.

“Yeah, gorgeous,” Marissa muttered, staring slack-jawed at the half-naked men. One
of them turned toward us, breaking slightly away from the group. It was Trent, and
I had to say, his bare torso was quite the sight to see. His tattoos accented every
muscle, making his skin more enticing. I giggled to myself, spotting the way Marissa
was practically climaxing in front of me.

Trent smirked, seeing all of us looking at him as if he was a triple fudge sundae
we were ready to devour. He made his way toward the pool, moving slow and panther-like.
His muscles moved, his body contorting, accentuating every delicious line. He knew
exactly what he was doing, and he ate up every minute of it.

We watched him get into the pool by the shallow end, his long arms pushing along the
water to gain a slow stride. Marissa sighed, and I turned back to her.

“Why don’t you go in there with him? I’m sure he’s up for the company.”

“Shuddup.” She rolled her eyes, taking her gaze away from Trent, all hot and wet in
the pool, for only a moment. But before I’d steadied myself from her shove, her eyes
were already fixed back in his direction.

“Go,” I encouraged, nudging her slightly with my arm. Marissa looked at me, hesitancy
in her eyes for the barest of moments. With a small smile, she finally took off her
sheer cover-up, revealing a gorgeous burgundy bikini, and headed toward the sparkling
water.

“Oh, she’s got it bad,” Sarah said. She watched Marissa strut her fine self over to
the pool from above the rim of her sunglasses, a smirk matching my own painted on
her lips.

As we watched our friend, another pair entered the pool. Emily and Keith, both completely
nude from the waist up in matching thongs, had each other by their nether regions
as if they were leading each other toward the water on a short leash—one on his testicles,
another on her clit.

“Oh. My. God.”

“Yeah,” Sarah said in a disgusted tone. “You missed the show earlier. He had her bent
over the spa, balls deep. She was meowing, I shit you not. And he was saying something
like ‘that’s how my kitty likes that shit.’ ”

“You lie.” I laughed.

“Does this face look like it’s lying?”

“No, you look a little green, actually.”

“Still fighting down breakfast,” she deadpanned. “It’s been a challenge.”

Diverting our attention away from the two Mates tongue-fucking each other, we watched
silently as Marissa swam over to where Trent was lounging on the side, his arms resting
wide on the tile wall surrounding the edge of the pool. They seemed to make shy pleasantries
for a moment. Well, shy for her. He looked confident yet reserved. She looked so sweet
talking to him, seeming to really like him. I smiled as I turned away.

“And do you have a special Consort twisting your nubbin at night?”

Sarah blushed at my question, and then looked over to the cabana where the rest of
the boys in question were seated. Brad and Carson were both looking in our direction,
raising their glasses of pale ale to us in salute. We copied the gesture with smiles
of our own. Brad took a large sip, then licked his lips to rid himself of the small
beer ’stache left behind. Sarah spun around, her own drink keeping her mouth occupied
as the redness in her cheeks deepened.

“Really?”

“Shut up,” she muttered into her glass.

“Brad? Really?”

“You don’t understand, Mady. He does this thing with his mouth. My God, I saw Jesus,
I swear to you.”

“Okay, okay. Forget I asked,” I told her, holding my palm out to her to keep her mouth
from saying anything else that’d give me the heebie-jeebies.

“What? He’s cute . . .” Her tone was defensive and a little bit on the shy side.

“No, you’re right, he is. It’s just . . .” I paused, not wanting to sound too bitchy
or make her like him any less. If that was what it took to float her boat, then I
was more than happy for her. For me . . . yeah, he missed the train with the whole
‘dick in the fire hose’ move at the costume party. I made up some lame excuse.

“The whole firefighter thing threw me off, I guess. I dated one once. They are all
assholes.”

Sarah laughed. A full-on belly guffaw that had her doubled over in hysterics. I watched
her for a couple of seconds, hoping she wasn’t going to topple over from lack of oxygen.

“You thought he was serious with that shit, didn’t you?” Sarah wheezed, tears streaming
from the corner of her eye. I looked at her nonplussed. She began trying to catch
her breath, holding onto my arm so she didn’t outright fall over.

“Well, he did have his johnson in a cloth hose, Sarah.” My words sent her into another
round of laughter, and I couldn’t help the small smile from creeping onto my face.

“What’s so funny?” I heard Marissa ask as she wrapped a towel around her body, looking
between the two of us with an expectant expression.

“Mady thought Brad was serious with the ‘Dick on Fire’ thing.”

“Oh, shit.” Marissa giggled. “Mady, he was just kidding. No one in their right mind
would be serious about that shit.”

“What about the DJ Jazzy Jeff Fresh Prince speak?” Both Marissa and Sarah guffawed.
I felt like an idiot.

“Holy crap, that’s the funniest shit I’ve heard all week!” Sarah wheezed.

“So why are you out of the pool?” I asked Marissa, trying to change the subject. She
smiled, combing her fingers through her damp hair.

“Trent went to refill my drink and grab one for himself. I’m going to meet him in
one of the cabanas.”

“Okay, you know I love you, but if you start screaming in the lounge, I’m going to
have to throw up,” Sarah grumbled in mock-seriousness.

“Oh, quiet. It’s not like that. We aren’t supposed to do that out here.”

“Well, I don’t know who told you that, but some people didn’t seem to get the memo,”
Sarah said, angling her head toward another cabana with the curtains closed. I looked
toward it, curious who could be inside.

Seconds later, the white fabric parted. Sonia stepped out of it, adjusting her bikini
top before fixing a stray piece of her hair. She grabbed a half-empty glass from the
table directly in front of her and made her way toward the bar, where Tricia was waiting
with a shit-eating grin.

I looked back toward the cabana, my heart seizing in my chest. Isaac came out, the
string of his board shorts loose and flopping down his leg. I felt my face go white.
The glass in my hand became heavy, and I suddenly needed to be alone.

“I need a bathroom.”

“I think there’s one in the pool house,” Sarah said, pointing in the right direction.
I didn’t look. My eyes were fixed on Isaac as he did a cursory glance around the yard,
taking in the environment. His eyes met mine and I flinched. There was none of the
warmth I’d seen before, none of the charm. He’d reverted to the asshole I’d met on
Moving Day, cold, flat, and utterly callous. Part of me wanted to cry.

“Excuse me,” I muttered, heading in the direction I thought Sarah had pointed to.
I set my half-consumed drink on a table as I passed at a fast clip, needing to be
alone so I could figure out just what in the hell happened.

“Hey, Mady. What’s wrong?” Mina stood in my path, talking to Zack in hushed tones.

“I need a bathroom,” I told her, hurrying past without a second thought. I threw the
doors open to the house with a loud bang. My eyes were wide as I searched in which
direction I should go. A long hallway off to the right looked like my best bet, so
I rushed down it in blind haste.

I was barely through the door before I felt the vodka-blueberry-coconut mixture make
a reappearance. Luckily, it was mostly fluid, so the sink made a perfect puke bucket.
I stood there for several more moments, my bottom lip trembling from adrenaline. I
glanced up at the mirror, seeing how ashen and gaunt my face looked. I turned on the
faucet and splashed some cool water on my cheeks, then rinsed out my mouth a couple
of times.

What the hell am I doing
?

Why the hell did I react that way? I mean, I knew coming in it was most likely going
to be slightly difficult. Jealousy can run wild in this kind of situation, but this
was completely different. It . . .
hurt
. And I didn’t understand why.

I’d done what I was supposed to do. I shut off my emotions, I set my limits, and I
cut off any expectations. I came here with the intentions of . . .

“Fuck,” I muttered, hating the sting of tears forming in my eyes. How could I let
him make me cry? He wasn’t doing anything that he wasn’t supposed to do. He was a
Consort at a sex club . . . and I was his nameless toy to play with.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck . . .”

“Well, if you say it nicely, I might oblige.”

I turned to see who was leering at me from the doorway. He had his hand low on his
abdomen, his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared at me like a lazy lion watching
a limping gazelle. I didn’t have patience for this shit.