Finding Jaime (15 page)

“Oh? So what do you do there?”

“I’m a finance director.” My hands ball into fists, and I clench my jaw when he raises one eyebrow and smirks. “I provide reports for the clients that are looking to invest in other companies. I show them their graphs and figures of where I predict their money will go based on the last three years’ turnover of the companies they’re looking to invest their money.” I don’t need to tell him all of this, but I can’t stop. “I also look at the other companies’ records when the investors are seeking to review their contracts.”

He stands there, gawking, and I shake my head. “You seriously do all that?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

I narrow my eyes. “Do you think I’m lying?”

“No, well, it’s just that…the way you talk and act, I didn’t think you would do something so—”

“Hang on,” I cut in, my fingernails digging into my palms. “My personality determines what job I should do? My level of intellect?” I walk past him, and a fiery rage bubbles up from inside me. “Obnoxious, narrow-minded, misogynistic, reprobate. Are those words smart enough for you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

I spin to face him. “To put it simply, I called you a fucking asshole.”

“Bran was right, you’re a bitch, Jaime.”

I let my head fall back as I laugh bitterly. “Oh, good ‘ol Bran, how is he?” I pout and continue. “He tried so hard, he really did.” The sarcasm drips off my tongue like watermelon juice.

I don’t wait for a reply from Bobby. Instead, I swing my purse over my shoulder and head towards the door.
 

Chapter 13

The club is busy tonight, and even though I know my way around the top floor, I’m finding it hard to locate the doorway towards the bar and dance floor. Three poles on circular platforms have been placed in the middle of the floor, and members are setting up their apparatus for whatever their kink-of-the-day is. I squeeze between two large men, and one looks over his shoulder at me as I brush behind him.

“Hi there,” he says, his dark eyes reflecting the glow of the dim overhead lights. “That feels great. Let me turn around.”

He begins to turn, and I place my hands on his scorching back. “Don’t bother, sunshine. I’m just trying to get past.”

His lips stretch wide, showing his straight teeth. “Oh, you’re Butterfly’s girl, right? Pleased to meet you, I’m Roger.”

My insides whirl when he says that, but I shake it off. “Roger? That’s a pretty normal sounding name for this place.”

“Not to the women bending over for me,” he replies and winks through his silver mask. “Guys too—sometimes both together.”

“Oh, well, good for you,” I say and continue to work my way through the crowd.

I spot Fuchsia, and she waves a greeting while she’s talking to a group at the back. Her happy movements are infectious, and my mood lifts a little when she throws her head back, laughing at something that’s been said. Her fingertips press against her chest, and she touches the other person on the arm.
 

Finally, I reach the bar and see that there are no seats left. “Cherry and Rum,” I say to the bartender with pink and blue hair. Her matching mask is exquisite with the feathers fluffy all along the top line; rhinestones detailing the edges, and rainbow colored sparkles around the eye sockets.

“Here you go, sweet thing,” she says and bites her lower lip. “Yell if you need me again.”

“Thanks.” She watches as I pick up my glass, take out the stick, and pull the cherry into my mouth. “What?” I don’t like the way she’s staring, even though she’s hardly contained in her barley-there tank top with a deep gash down the front, showing her boobs. The tiny white skirt would show everything if she bent over even a fraction.

“I just want to watch you bite into that sweet cherry.”

I pause my chewing and press the back of my hand to my mouth. “Oh my God,” I chuckle, and she leans over on the counter. I can see right down her top, and I know it’s deliberate.

“I haven’t seen you here before, I’ve been away for a while on vacation. I must say, I like how your body looks in that dress.” She licks her lips.

“Blue, this is Bunny,” Fidel says to her, and she steps back.

“Oh, sorry, Bunny. I didn’t know that was you.”

My mouth pops open, and my eyes flick back and forth between the two. “Uh, it’s fine, um, Blue.” What the actual fuck is going on tonight?

 
I take a sip of my drink, and it’s pure heaven in a glass. It’s not like ones in the other bars I’ve been to. The cherry flavor tastes real—fresh—and has a natural zing to it.
 

“It’s good, isn’t it?”

My heart races at her voice, and I try to steady my shaking hand, but the glass almost slips out of my fingers. “Oh…”

“Sorry!” Butterfly says and takes the glass from me before it falls, her fingers grazing mine as she does. “I didn’t mean to startle you, Bunny.”

“Yeah? Well, you do have a habit of sneaking up on me,” I joke and take a deep breath.

I can smell the candy perfume that Sadie sometimes wears and my heart skids to a stop before it hammers loudly against my ribs.

Butterfly steps closer to me. “Bunny? Are you alright?” Her hands grip my arms.

“What’s that perfume you’re wearing?” I ask.
I’m not moving from this fucking spot until I get an answer.
I check her hair line for evidence of a wig, but I see nothing but black roots.

“It’s Snow Fairy by Lush, why? Does it smell bad?”

I quickly shake my head. “No, it’s nice, it’s just that my roommate wears that same one, I think.”

Butterfly visibly relaxes and releases me. “Oh, well, it’s a popular product, I guess. It was a gift from my family for my birthday.”

“When was that?” Sadie’s birthday is in March, so I wish like fuck that it isn’t the same.

“Bunny.” Butterfly steps in so close to me, that her tits brush mine. “I’m not your roommate—I assure you. Do you think I would be able to keep away from you if I were?” She pushes the long strands of my light brown hair over my shoulder, grazing my ear with her nails.

I swallow the lump in my throat and the prickles tickling over my skin speed their way into my panties. My mouth moves before I have time to think about what I’m saying. “What would you do?”

Her bottom lip disappears into her mouth. “Whatever you wanted me to.” Her fingers slide down my arm, and she takes my hand in hers. “Let’s go. I want to hear about your day.”

“Wha…”

She wants to talk about my day?
That’s pretty much the last thing I want right now, and all I want to do is have a few drinks, and maybe dance a little. Okay, I want more than that, but what happened earlier isn’t worth mentioning.

Butterfly leads me out through the rear door and down the stairs, and my eyes lower to the way her hips are accentuated by the gathered gray fabric on either side. White tulle swishes underneath across the backs of her thighs. Her calves are toned, and contract with every step in her matching gray and charcoal striped stiletto heels. The crisscross of the ribbon ties of the tight bodice work up from her waist to her shoulder-blades, and her bronzed skin looks flawless up to her slim neck that’s just visible under her long ponytail.

She wraps her slender fingers around the doorknob to the room we were in last time and opens the door. I walk past her, and she locks it. I don’t know why the sound of the click has me quaking, but in the darkened room—alone with Butterfly—I can’t seem to stop shaking.

Get a grip, Jaime! You found this place for a reason, so relax.
My rational thoughts ease my galloping pulse, but as she takes my hand again, it kicks back into gear.

“Sit down, Bunny, and relax. You seem on edge tonight.” She pats the bed next to her, and I sit.

I shift back to the center, so my feet are off the floor, and I can lie back with ease if I want. I blow out a steadying breath at the same time as Butterfly. I glance at the rising swells of her breasts in the striped, boned fabric. The hook fasteners keep them firmly in place, yet I find myself hoping they’ll fail.

“Tell me about your day,” she repeats and holds my hand in hers.

“It’s not that interesting,” I say, but she waits for me to begin. “My mom called me earlier, so that’s why I’m not very talkative, sorry.” The thought of that conversation boils my blood boil all over again.

I let myself fall back. Butterfly lies next to me, and I prop myself up on my elbow to face her. Her hand reaches to my face, and she strokes over my cheek.

“Your skin is so soft,” she whispers.

I place my hand over hers, stopping hers from moving down. “Butterfly—”

“Shh,” she cuts in. “I’m here to help you, Bunny. Whatever you need, I’m here for you. That’s the whole point of you being here.”

“But you said you wouldn’t be used, and I feel like that’s what I’m doing.”

“No”—she shakes her head again—“you’re not, Bunny. Like I told you, whatever happens in here, stays here. If you start anything with somebody outside of this club, then tell me. I won’t be a part of something that could get someone hurt.” She moves so close to me I can smell the mint on her breath. “Are you seeing somebody, Bunny? Is this just a game to you?”

“I’m not, and I would never treat you like that, Butterfly, but you also know that I do like somebody, but they’re off limits to me.” I notice her lips purse the tiniest bit. “You have somebody like that too, don’t you?”

She nods. “I do, Bunny, but I can only hope that when she sees me for who I really am, she won’t hate me.”

I lift my hand and run my fingers over her jaw until I’m cupping her face. “A girl like you would be a fucking gift, Butterfly. I couldn’t imagine anybody not falling for you. You’re a fucking angel.”

“Bunny, you don’t understand… I have to tell you—” She doesn’t finish.

I find my lips pressed against hers, and the softness of her mouth has me starving. I begin to pull away, but her fingers tangle in my hair, and she pulls me back in, her lips part, and she kisses me back. The thumping in my chest is deafening, and fire licks over every inch of me when I feel the tip of her hot tongue seeking entrance. I open for her and taste the freshness of her mouth.

I whimper when her hand releases my hair and travels down my neck towards my chest. I’m burning all over, and my nipples pinch tightly underneath my dress. The constricting bodice strangles my overheating body, and I want to tear it away from my skin.

Butterfly’s kisses are sweet, better than I could have ever imagined, and I know what I’ve missing for all these years, what I should have had from the beginning; the person I am.

“Bunny,” she whispers before devouring my lips once again.

I moan into her mouth, and her nails lightly dig into my shoulder as the sound leaves me. I graze down her neck with my fingertips and rest on the fleshy mound of her breast.

Butterfly shifts and I feel myself being guided flat onto my back. Her mouth leaves mine, and her lips glide across my jaw to my ear. Her tongue flicks over the lobe and then she kisses the point just below. My back arches, my clit aches, and the dampness between my legs increases with every touch of her lips.

She doesn’t stop. She continues down to my chest, and I take a sharp breath when she reaches my cleavage.

“Oh, God,” I sigh. My breaths quicken when her hand massages my left tit over my too-tight clothing.

Her leg crosses over mine, and I allow my hand to grip her slender thigh, stroking up the bare skin and under her skirt. She sucks in air through her nose. She’s trembling, and I’m desperate for more.

“Fuck!” I say on a breath. Her tongue licks just above the channel between my large orbs. “That’s good.”

I’m expecting the voices to scream at me, to tell me to stop what I’m doing and to leave. I hear nothing. The only sounds I hear are our heavy breaths and the pounding of my heart; tight material scraping against one another, the brushing of fingers against skin and the appreciative sounds of pleasure.

I bend my left leg and bring my foot up onto the bed. Butterfly’s hand leaves my breast, and her warm palm gently grips my outer thigh. It inches up, further and further until it can go nowhere else.

More. I want more. I want more of her, and I need to touch places on her I’ve only ever thought about. I allow my hand to explore further up her thigh. Butterfly lifts her head and looks down at me. I look up into the lace covered holes in her mask, wishing I could see her eyes.

“Yes,’ she whispers.

Her head lowers to mine, and she takes my mouth again, our tongues licking over each other, lips sucking and teeth nibbling. I come to the spot where her thigh meets her ass, and I smooth around the curved area, gripping her fleshy cheek.

Butterfly’s hips buck into me, her pussy pressing against my leg. I can feel the heat of my arousal sliding out of me and my walls contract. I’m close to coming, and she has hardly touched me at all.

This must be what it feels like to want, to need, to be desperate…

“Butterfly,” I manage to croak when she lets me come up for air. “I want—”

She presses her lips against mine briefly, then as much as I’m certain she’s watching me, she’s also sliding her fingers from the side of my thigh, over the front, and then stops.