She looked up at me with tears in her eyes, and I asked her just one question, “Why?”
“Because Jayce doesn’t want children,” she whispered, and it took everything within me not to kick her in the face while she was down. “He insisted.”
Instead, I turned toward the door but before I left, I turned to her and told her with deadly menace, “If I see either one of you again… if either of you cross my path… I will kill you. That’s the only warning you get.”
I stormed out of her house. I didn’t know if she believed my last warning. They were empty words, of course, because as I said… I wasn’t about to go down for murder. Instead, I’d just have to deal with the pain and move on.
Kynan was there for me. My closest friend. He helped pick up the pieces after I went for weeks on a drunken bender. He’d bailed me out of jail once and prevented me from getting in several bar fights. He watched as I fucked women without emotion, sometimes picking one up in a bar and just doing her up against a wall outside without even seeing if she was wet or not. He helped me through it and when I was ready to move on, he was by my side at The Jameson Group. He’s been there the entire time, as well as spent some quality time here at The Wicked Horse, and there’s no one’s advice I trust more.
Except when it comes to this issue with Trista. I’ve not seen Jayce since the day I caught him with Michelle, but having an opportunity to cause him pain—even if it’s nowhere near the same type—is just too much for me to pass up.
Kynan stands up from the chair and shoves his hands in his pocket. “I’m sorry, man. Sorry this is still eating at you.”
“Then you understand why I’m doing it,” I mutter.
“Yeah,” he says. The tone of his voice implies he’s not going to broach it with me again. He may be against this idea, but Kynan will always have my back. “Don’t like it, but I understand it.”
We’re silent for a moment, but then I pin him with a guilt-laden look. “I don’t like it either, buddy. But I have to do it.”
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” he says as he heads for the door. When he reaches it, he turns back. “Any hard limits?”
“No anal,” I say distractedly. Trista’s not ready for that. “Frankly… it’s whatever she wants.”
“You mean make all her dreams come true?” Kynan asks with a grin, and I feel the burden weighing me down lift a little. Trista’s going to come so many times tomorrow that she’s not going to know what hit her. I maybe have a very deceitful intent about what I’m doing to her, but I also intend to give her pleasure like she’s never known.
“Mr. Jameson asked me to send you to his office,” Belinda says to me as I stand behind the hostess stand. She’s one of the cleaners and why she’s delivering this message is beyond me.
But then again… Jerico has me off-kilter tonight. When I arrived, there was a note on my locker that I was going to attend to the hostess stand in The Social Room, along with a black dress on a hanger he wanted me to wear. No other explanation and I haven’t seen him all night.
The dress was simple but sexy, form fitting, and came to just above my knees with a plunging neckline. It was the same type of dress the other hostesses wore, so I didn’t feel out of place or anything.
But I’m not sure why Jerico wants me here. He seems to have settled me into the role of a condiment tray girl because he told me he enjoyed watching me walk around half naked.
I smile at Belinda and turn to Marcy, the other hostess on duty with me, and say, “I’ll be back in a minute. Mr. Jameson asked me to go to his office.”
Marcy rolls her eyes at me. “Of course you’ll be back in a minute.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, my hackles raising up.
“Doesn’t mean anything,” she says with a shrug. “But really… you should call him Jerico, not Mr. Jameson. You know, seeing as how close you two are.”
This is said with such cattiness that I get more angry than embarrassed that I’m being called on the carpet for my relationship with Jerico.
“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?” I ask sweetly.
Marcy narrows her eyes at me. “Of course not. But don’t get too comfortable in his arms. He’s not a one-woman kind of man.”
“And why should you care to even warn me about that?” This, I’m genuinely curious about. If Jerico doesn’t do repeats, then he’s never going to give Marcy a taste again, assuming he’s had her. And why wouldn’t he? She’s beautiful just like everyone else here.