Seven (7 page)

Read Seven Online

Authors: Amy Marie

BOOK: Seven
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“Yes, ma’am. And, I don’t want anyone stealing away what I’m trying to impress.”

“Well,” I tell him, grabbing a few more grapes. “I guess I don’t have to look into it. I’m content to take some time off.”

“Ok, but if you change your mind, let me know. I was only half joking about them being able to steal you away.” He winks. He has nothing to worry about. I have zero interest in any man besides him right now and that is for a completely different reason than he thinks.

“So, why is this place so special to you?” I ask just as we finish our nighttime picnic.

He shrugs. “It’s just the place I come to when I want to leave the world behind me for a while.”

I lean back on my elbows. “Did you want to leave the world behind tonight?”

He follows me, resting his body back. “I just didn’t want to share you with anyone tonight. I just wanted it to be us.” He turns his face, and leans in, kissing me on the cheek. I can feel my both of them warm with a blush, and I smile at him before glancing away.

“Well, thank you. This all was really nice.” I look back over at him and am startled that he is still just staring at me. I feel the weight of his stare and it consumes me.

“You’re welcome.”

We talk for the next few hours about life while Casen keeps me warm. We’ve managed to move, so that he is sitting up and I am lying between his legs, his arms wrapped around my torso. Casen tells me things about him I already know and I tell him things I want him to know. Afterward, he asks if I want to have drinks at his place, but I decline. The ride back is much different than the ride there. Casen seems to be much more comfortable touching me and uses every opportunity to place a hand on my hand, or my leg. It’s causing my hormones to fight with my will. He walks to the elevator and I can feel the thick cloud of tension fill the tiny space. The hallway is quiet for a Saturday night. Usually there is at least a television being played too loud, but it’s just Casen and me, all alone.

“I had a great time,” Casen whispers as he traps my body between his chest and the door of my apartment. His eyes trail down the exposed skin of my breasts.

I got the sweet Casen at dinner. Now the dirty one has arrived.

I look up, biting my lip, mostly to try stifling a laugh at his cliché date-ending line. “Me, too.”

His eyes zone in on my mouth as a light finger trails up my arm. When it reaches my neck and up my throat, he wraps a warm hand around my jaw. Shifting, I wait for him to make his move and place his lips on mine. He grins before pulling back, dropping his hand, essentially leaving me feeling rejected and stupid.

I turn around in the tiny space he’s allowed me and quickly open my door, so I can slam it in his face. Before I can fight it, Casen spins me around, sliding me over to aggressively push me up against the wall. When I don’t think he can get any closer, he does, making my knees weak and my heartrate pick up.

“I want to kiss you Embyr,” he growls, his intoxicating breath filling the air. “I’ve wanted these lips on mine all night. That little peck you gave me at the bar, last night, hasn’t been holding me over too well.”

Not wanting to miss an opportunity to make him crave me even more, I lift my fingers up, griping the back of his neck. “What the fuck are you waiting for?” I ask, reaching up on my toes, colliding my lips with his. He doesn’t falter as he takes the kiss deeper. His tongue thrashing against mine. His leg pushing my thighs apart, and his hands gripping my hips, pulling me into him. I tug on his hair, earning me a rewarding moan and feeling his hard erection drive into my leg.

I gasp at how massive it feels and inwardly smile knowing that is going to be the key to rock his fucking world into oblivion.

The way to a man’s heart is not food. No—it’s pussy, and I plan on using mine to shatter his heart so completely, as he did to me all those years ago, that he’ll never look at another woman the same. I’m going to feel as bad for what I am doing to him as he did for what they did to me.

I feel nothing.

That’s wrong.

I’m fucking lying.

Tearing our lips apart, I push at his shoulders forcing him back a few steps. He looks like a man out of control. We look intently at one another until he breaks again. Driving me back into the wall, he lifts me up by the back of my thighs. His tongue starts another assault on mine and I nip at it. He rewards me with a thrust of his jeans between my legs. I ignore the wetness seeping through my panties and focus on the mission at hand.

Our lips draw apart and his forehead falls to mine. “I really want to come in.”

I turn my head side to side, letting him know that won’t be happening. He concedes, lowering me to the ground. When my gaze finds his hungry eyes, they are looking down. I follow the trail, discovering my dress hiked up and my bright-red see through panties are on display, and make a show of concealing them once again, slowly gliding everything back into position.

Without another word, I saunter back to my door, leaving Casen in the hallway, and closing it behind me.

 

I watch the swirl of creamer circulate before blending into my coffee. The background noise of the café, drowned out by the thoughts of my date the other night. When I left him at the door, I couldn’t help but feel triumphant over how twisted up I made him. I have no doubt that, if I would have let him in, he would have had me on my back in no time.

When he pushed me into the wall, I could feel how rock hard I made him. How my body affected his. I’m sure with just the brush of my tongue over his dick, he would have come on the spot.

Silly, foolish man.

I haven’t heard from him since, though, it’s only been two days. But, I’m not the least bit worried. Men love challenges, and Casen is no different. If I would have let him in and allowed him to fuck me, he probably would have lost interest. That’s not the plan. I need to wrap him around my finger so tight that when he does get inside of me, he will never want to leave. Too bad for him that isn’t his decision.

I look around, watching as one uptight business man meets with other uptight business men and glance at my watch. She should be here any minute. As if on cue, the door opens, allowing the bright sunlight to fill the dimly lit café. Tracy walks in, finding me in the corner. As she walks with purpose toward me, I find I’m jealous of her unique beauty.

“Embyr!” She smiles, crinkling her stunning green eyes as she pushes her red locks behind her ears. “So glad we could finally make this meeting happen. I was hoping you weren’t avoiding me. I’ve had so many ideas, the past few days, flitting around in this crazy head of mine for your condo.”

I return the smile and wave my hand dismissively. “Of course not. I’ve just had a lot going on.”

Plopping down, she adjusts the strap of her purse over the back of her chair, and turns to face me. “I can imagine. Evan can hardly believe what Patrick got himself into. From what I hear, he stole a lot of money from his clients. I’m happy Evan never invested with him, even if they have been friends since high school.”

Ah, Evan. The “E” in PITCREW. The awkward boy in high school. The one who was lucky enough to make friends with the “in crowd.” The one who went to MIT and now has more money that he knows what to do with. Evan McGregory, the one who has absolutely no appreciation for his beautiful, faithful wife.

A few weeks ago, I told Patrick I was looking for an interior designer for my condominium. With my new found blackmail income from Wesley, I could now afford to hire someone highly sought after, like Tracy McGregory, to decorate my place. Patrick set us up.

Coincidence that she is married to a PITCREW member? I think not. I knew who Patrick would recommend. He and Evan stayed close after high school. He would drop by the office once or twice a week to talk to Patrick; each time, shamelessly flirting with me. Not that he gave me the time of day in high school except to taunt me relentlessly, threatening to release the tape. He never asked me any favors or made me do something I didn’t want to do, but I was in constant fear because he was just evil enough to show the world what I had done.

“Yeah,” I replied, taking a cautious sip of my coffee. “Good thing.”

Evan didn’t need Patrick to make him money. His yearly income far exceeded the other six PITCREW member’s combined. Not to mention that Tracy is the go-to interior designer in Chicago. She could live a very handsome life without Evan, and soon—that may be proven.

“So, let’s get started,” she says, smiling at me as she pulls out a notebook from her bag. “What sort of feel do you want for your place?”

I take another quick glance at my watch, hoping our surprise guest gets here soon, so I don’t have to go through all of the niceties.

He’s late. He’s never late. He’s always annoyingly fucking on time.

As my shoulders slump slightly, about ready to accept that maybe today he won’t show up, the door chimes. Tracy looks at me expectantly as my eyes find the large, sandy-blond haired man walking in, beautiful blonde bombshell on his arm. My heartrate picks up as I watch his long fingers caress the side of her hip before he leads her up to the counter.

“Embyr,” Tracy calls, trying to get my attention.

I absently shake my head and look at her curious eyes. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I was just thinking about all the ideas I have floating around in my head. My friend just moved out, so I feel like I can do just about anything I want. So many possibilities!”

She smiles, a beautiful, Julia Roberts smile. “I understand. It’s a lot to think about, but if I could just get a general idea of what you want then, the next time we meet, I can bring some boards with me for you to look at.”

I nod, looking once again at the couple, who are now making out like teenagers while waiting for their order. My stomach coils in disgust. I’ve never seen so much infidelity as I have since starting my little revenge project. There is so much deceit out there, it makes me never want to settle down. Not that right now is an option anyways. I have other things on my plate.

My parents, despite quite a few bumps in their marriage, never cheated. Not that I know of, at least. They were the type to always touch the other some way, somehow. I watched them go through their struggles, loving each other unconditionally. Never once forgetting to say I love you before leaving the house. Before junior year, I longed to have a love like that one day. Now, I just want a good lay. No commitment. Just a good old fashioned fuck every once in a while.

A laugh pulls me from my thoughts. “Daydreaming again?” Tracy asks, pushing her fiery hair behind her ears.

“Yes.” I chuckle.

She reaches over, taking my hand gently in hers. “Well, how about I tell you some ideas I have that I think would be perfect and we can go from there?”

I nod. “Ok.”

Tracy dips down, digging back into her bag and pulls out a large black binder, opening it up to the first page. Both of our heads lean in but my sight lands on the couple making their way to their usual booth, close to our table, not paying any attention to the people around them. Obviously, because if he did, then he would walk the other way.

“This right here,” Tracy points to a black couch with deep purple accent pillows. “I think would be perfect in a bachelorette pad. Do you have pets? Because black is not a good color for a house with pets.”

I shake my head no, watching as Evan slides into the booth and is followed by the blonde. It makes me shake my head when a couple sits on the same side but they have a reason for it. A disturbing one. My heart beats faster, the rush funneling through my veins, as I try to figure out how to get Tracy to turn around.

She continues on, showing me each and every page. I make comments when needed, not really giving a shit about what she is showing me because I’m pretty sure, after today, I won’t see her, again.

I watch closely as the man’s hand slide up the woman’s thigh, higher and higher, and if I wasn’t paying attention, I wouldn’t have heard her harsh intake of breath as he hit her sweet spot. Every week I watch him get her off with dozens of coffee drinkers surrounding them. None the wiser. Each time they think they have gotten away with it.

Except, all the other times, Tracy isn’t here.

Her shoulders stiffen as the woman’s breath becomes heavier and the man’s name slips from between her lips. “Evan,” the blonde bimbo whispers, earning an eyebrow rise from Tracy. I watch as Tracy slowly turns. My hands grip the table, waiting for the moment she sees it. Evan continues to move his hands underneath blondie’s dress, not noticing that his wife is watching him go knuckle deep in another woman. As he moves faster, the woman on the receiving end of his fingers slowly grinds into them attempting to get off. He licks his lips and takes the bottom one in between his teeth as he watches her with rapt attention. I look down at his lap noticing the bulge beginning to form. I know from weeks of watching the same thing occur, they head out to his car and have a quick fuck before he sends her on her way. Being in public is obviously not an issue for either one of them.

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