A Betty's Pledge: Volume One (7 page)

What made her so different for me? Why was she able to spark that desire that had
been dormant for so long in my gut?

“You seem lost, my friend,” Zack said, coming to sit by me on the white couches. I
hadn’t moved from that spot since Madeline had positioned herself at the bar because
it gave me a direct line of sight toward her.

It was unlike me to be so sedentary at these parties for a multitude of reasons, but
mainly because it wasn’t prudent to be so antisocial when you were a Grant. More was
expected of me than that, but I didn’t have it in me to care about that so much for
some reason. I was sure Zack picked up on it somehow.

He always had a way of getting to the issue at hand, and his comment was probably
more accurate than I was willing to admit. So instead of delving into a philosophical
discussion with Zack, I decided to play coy and divert him with my sharp wit.

“Not as lost as you. Where is your little chica?” It was jab and a deflection in one;
Mina was an interesting duck with an attitude to match her hot Latino looks. Zack
had a soft spot when it came to her. I hoped he’d change the topic and she was always
the perfect outlet for that.

“She’s with her Betty. Sarah, I think her name was,” he replied with a smirk.

Bingo . . . a successful diversion, Wilson
.

“Mina always gets so excited for the new Betties to arrive, especially this time for
some reason. She seemed to get along with hers from the start. Her Betty is really
quite cute,” he added as an afterthought. “They had her dress as a schoolgirl, which
is perfect for Mina, really. Have you met her yet?”

“Haven’t had the pleasure.”

“And why’s that?” he asked with a knowing smirk.

Damn.

“I’m just working up to it.”

“Since when do you have to work up to meeting gorgeous women, Wilson?”

“Fuck off, dickwad.”

“What’s wrong with you tonight?”

“Look, I’m just a little out of sorts, okay.”

“I see . . . getting sick of it?”

His question made me look at him and I saw a knowing expression on his face. When
I didn’t confirm or deny his suspicion, he continued on his soapbox.

“I got that way about a year ago,” he said with a shrug. “I was starting to feel like
it was all pointless. I wanted to leave but he talked me out of it. Told me that there
was someone coming for me who would change my beliefs about sex and pleasure.”

“Who told you that?” I asked, curious but suspecting I probably knew the answer already.

“You know who I’m talking about.” Zack gave me a look.
Assumption confirmed . . .

“He mentored me and led me through the hard times. It got so bad that I actually cried
after one session with a Betty. It just felt so empty and pointless, and I thought
maybe there was more out there in the real world and I was missing my opportunity
at happiness for one man’s silly theories.”

I grimaced because I’d had those same revelations only days prior and hearing Zack
say that he’d felt the same, knowing how happy he was now with Mina, made me ache
inside. That kind of fulfillment with someone else just didn’t seem in the cards for
me, and I didn’t want Zack to fill me with false hope once again.

“I was wrong, Isaac. And luckily he made me see that because Mina showed up in the
next round. I don’t like to think about what my life would be like if I’d left when
I wanted to, but sometimes I do because it’s important to see what I’ve been gifted.
It will happen, just trust in that.”

“That sounds all fine and dandy, Zack, but I don’t see that happening anytime soon,”
I bit out, trying not to let my deep desperation show.

“Really?” he asked, and his smug tone made me look at him in question. His eyes shifted,
fixing on something across the yard. At
someone
 . . . Madeline stood by the bar talking to one of our alumni members, laughing happily
at something the man had said. The expression on her face made me smile, and I felt
a sensation of joy flow through me just by watching her for a hidden moment in time.

“You haven’t been sitting here staring at the trees, my friend,” Zack said with a
chuckle, patting my knee as he stood to leave. I saw him adjust his gun belt, part
of his GI Joe costume, before he started sauntering away, giving a military salute
to a group of ladies as they passed by.

I sat there for a couple more minutes, thinking over what Zack had said. I hated feeling
so jaded all the damn time. That was definitely not the way I wanted to live my life.

I glanced up and looked at Madeline again. She was leaning against the bar, her back
toward the counter, taking in the party with a subtle smile on her lips. The small
dress she wore made her look like a sultry starlet. She wasn’t wearing any of those
knee-high stockings that seemed to accompany every other chick’s outfit that evening.
Her legs were bare, bronzed, and smooth, looking like they went on for miles. The
heels she wore emphasized the curves in her legs and the whole effect was quite pleasing.
What made her different from the countless women showing much more skin that evening?
Again, I didn’t know or care.

As I watched her with skilled, probing eyes, I saw her shift her posture slightly.
I looked up from her stunning figure and met her eyes. Deep pools of liquid cerulean
met mine in a heated gaze. I stared entranced as a faint blush colored her cheeks.
It only added to her attraction for me, and I found myself wondering how her skin
would pink when she climaxed at my hand.

From what I knew of her, she seemed to be the type of woman who wouldn’t appreciate
a man openly eye-fucking her in the middle of a party. I didn’t care. In fact, she
needed to come out of her shell and her training started tonight.

I made a point to let my gaze travel along her body, slowly taking her in, knowing
she was watching me as I assessed her endowed assets fully. Her chest heaved as she
took in a stunted breath, making the roundness of her breasts pulse in invitation
as they practically spilled out of her top. The small of her waist joined supple hips,
perfect for my hands to grab as I took her in carnal pleasure.

It was her legs where my gaze lingered the longest, and I could feel my mouth water
as I pictured how they’d look thrown over my shoulder as I drove into her. Just then,
she shifted position, and I glanced up to meet her eyes once more.

She didn’t shy away from me as I openly gazed at her, and I could feel the corner
of my mouth turn up at that fact. She was watching me with the same intensity, her
eyebrows raised in question, silently asking me if I liked what I saw.

Yes, she may have seemed demure and tame when I’d first seen her at the trial—and
even tonight she looked out of her element among the bare skin—but she was willing
and able to face the headiness of it all, taking my blatant perusal of her in and
giving just as much back.

She gave me a subtle gesture with her head, indicating the open space next to her
with a teasing smile on her lips. It was as good as any invitation to me, and I stood
from my spot on the couch and made my way toward her.

“Hi,” she said, her tone smooth as silk, as I approached. The tone of her voice was
rich, natural. Not like the squeaky, high-pitched shrill that came with the Cali bimbos
in this town.

“You must be Madeline.”

“Mady,” she corrected with a grin, holding her cocktail up to me to indicate her red
stone resting at the bottom. “Is this the part where you tell me how much you enjoyed
my trial?”

I laughed softly, watching as the corners of her plush lips turned up in a sly grin.

“This is the part where I introduce myself,” I corrected, taking her hand in mine
and bringing it to my lips. I heard her gasp slightly as I kissed her skin, and I
couldn’t help the sudden jolt of pride I felt at that fact.

“Isaac Wilson,” I said in greeting, pulling her hand away from my mouth but not willing
to let it go completely.

“Hmm, nice name,” she replied, the subtle blush making a reappearance. “It suits you.
Are you this charming with all the ladies?” She pulled her hand away and gestured
toward the scantily dress crowd.

“Just the beautiful ones,” I replied with a half-smile.

“Aww, what a smooth talker . . . I wonder if that mouth sounds that nice in bed as
well.”

For the first time in my life, I was stunned. I never would have pictured her to be
the type of girl who’d enjoy dirty talk, or even entertain anything more erotic than
the missionary position. Suddenly, I found myself wondering if it would break too
many rules to start the trialing tonight.

The Sponsor

~ Madeline Cain ~

I’d seen him watching me from my periphery, his eyes fixated on me like a hunter tracking
his prey. The heat of his gaze was sweltering; that stark need of a man wanting a
woman.

I wasn’t sure who he was, but I knew there was one more Consort I had yet to meet.
I couldn’t tell what he was wearing because he was sitting in the shadow of a tree.
In fact, only the vague feeling as if someone was watching me alerted me to his presence.
I’d scanned the entire area, trying to find the eyes I could feel on me, only to see
him look away from me once my gaze found his.

I took the small opportunity to really look at him then, stealing a hidden minute
to be the appraiser instead of the assessed. His hair was a light shade of brown with
subtle hints of gold illuminated by the faint lights from the tree he sat beneath.
His figure looked tall and thin, shaped with balanced muscle over a manly build. I
couldn’t really see his face, for the lights only illuminated parts of him, leaving
the rest a decadent mystery.

I tried to maintain an uncaring illusion, seeming preoccupied with the festivities
and random guests of the evening. The reality was that he’d captured my attention
since the moment I’d seen him sitting under the white-lit tree, his probing eyes fixed
intently in my direction.

As we sat, in a heated mating dance, chasing each other shrewdly, my heart began to
race. I would steal covert glances toward him, trying to confirm if he was in fact
a Consort with the telltale black-stoned drink. But he sat there empty-handed, occasionally
rubbing his large hands down his black pants as if he was itching to touch something
else.

I could only hope that it was me his fingertips yearned for.

I was expecting him to come to me, wanting him to introduce himself as the other Consorts
had done, but I figured he must’ve liked to do things a little differently. Maybe
he liked to watch me for a little while, knowing I would realize he was assessing
his Betty and liking how he made me squirm under his steady perusal. Little did he
know that I flourished under that kind of heat; like a hothouse plant, I bloomed and
rose to the occasion, making slight changes in my body language to entice him further
toward me.

He became distracted for a moment, talking to someone who’d sat down next to him on
the white couch beneath the tree. I watched him talk for a minute or two, trying to
decipher him a little further as he indulged in a light conversation.

“You must be a new Pledge,” a man said beside me. I turned to see an older gentleman
with dark black hair pulled together at his neck and tied back with a piece of leather.
He wore a black tuxedo in a James Bond style, very elegant and regal. His eyes were
a sharp, crisp blue and his features were distinguishingly attractive for his age.

“Yes, I am.”

“Can I get you another drink?” he asked with a nod toward the bartender.

“Oh, no thank you. I have one already and I have to pace myself.”

“Yes,” he agreed with a small chuckle. “Wouldn’t want you to get too crazy and out
the Grants in a room filled with Alumni and their unsuspecting guests.”

“Are you . . .”

The man held up a flute of champagne, a purple stone floating on the bottom.

“Yes, I’m Alumni. It was many moons ago that I graced these halls with my elegant
charms.” He moved his arms in a grand gesture, making me giggle at his antics.

“I’m Adam Vance,” he introduced himself, and something in my mind sparked in recognition
at that name. I held my hand out to his to shake, but he grasped it lightly and placed
a soft kiss atop it. “I am one of the original founders, and I see that some traditions
are still hard at work.” He gestured toward my scantily clad body. “Although, you
do look magnificent, my dear.”

“Thank you,” I mumbled, feeling my blush color my face slightly. Adam chuckled under
his breath, gazing at me in a sort of revered way. It would have been really creepy
to have some unknown old dude gaze at me like that, but he was really good looking
so it kind of offset the awkwardness of it.

“Have you met all your suitors this evening?”

“Um, you mean the Consorts?” I became slightly confused by his terminology. He laughed
boisterously.

“Is that what he’s calling them nowadays? That man . . .”

I didn’t understand what he was saying, but I just nodded numbly in reply.

“I don’t think I’ve met them all, no,” I replied, taking a sip from my martini as
Adam nodded at my response.