Too Consumed (20 page)
“Balloons may fly high, but after a certain limit they pop and planes have to land sometime. They both have their needs and limitations, just like you. You could have said bird, they don’t need much sustenance and they don’t fly too high, but you had to go and put yourself thousands and thousands of feet above everyone else. That says a lot about you, your personality and your temperament. You always have to be number one. You always put your wants and needs before anyone else’s, and you always have to be in control
…I feel sorry for you, Seth.”
I swallow. Would
it have killed him to say that he’s proud of me on a regular basis? Shit, he didn’t even have to tell me he was proud of me, actually disciplining me and giving me proper advice on what to do and what not to do would have sufficed. Yes, I fucked up a lot with school and girls. Yes, I dropped out of college and refused to get a normal job. I probably drank way too much and started way too many fights, but I was only a kid. Isn’t that what kids do?
This year has done nothing but inflate me
…why haven’t I popped yet? Why haven’t I landed for fuel? I’m getting dangerously close to the sun with no sign of bursting. My fuel is redlining, but my engines are running just fine on the fumes.
“
And I’m sure your dad is proud of you as well,” Olivia adds with a smile.
And then it hits me. I haven’t popped or crashed and burned yet because
of
her
. She has been keeping me up. If it wasn’t for her, I’d have flaked on my first fight in the amateur tournament against Frederick Kennedy—I was about to throw in the towel, but she helped me. She came into my room and touched me. She didn’t have to. I did nothing but treat her like shit prior to that—only seeking to get one thing from her. She let me in…she saw something in me and let me into her life. The other night Jackson asked me why I chose her, but the real question is, why did she choose me? Why did she take a risk with me? She’s not the lucky one here, I am, and I count my blessings every fucking day. Olivia is the string attached to my balloon. I haven’t popped because she hasn’t let me. Olivia is the fuelling jet, following me as I soar through the clouds. She feeds me fuel a little portion at a time, so I don’t get ahead of myself. She keeps me grounded and that’s why I love her.
Olivia doesn’t know about the tense relationship with my da
d—at least not in its entirety, and it isn’t really a big enough issue to share with her.
“I don’t care about that anymore
,” I reply, sliding my arms around her waist and inching her closer to me.
“No?”
I shake my head. “Only what you think of me matters.”
“Is that right?”
I nod, slipping my hand under her shirt and caressing the small of her back. The touch alone is enough to ease the nervous grind in my stomach.
“And what do you think of me?”
She purses her lips in thought and as she’s about to speak, Jackson’s light hair and green eyes peer around the door and stick into the car. “You two coming?”
“Five minutes
,” I demand. “Shut the door.”
With a swift nod, he closes the door.
“Can we do this later? We’re holding everybody up.”
I shake my head, slightly. “Now is fine.”
“Okay.” She drops her gaze and fidgets with my shirt. “I think you are insatiable, intense, aggressive, hard to read, and stubborn.”
Old news. Even I know that.
“But I also think you are confident, determined, hardworking, handsome—”
“Good in bed
,” I chime in, suddenly feeling playful. “Amazing with my hands, but better with my mouth and I have nice sized c—”
“Ego
,” she cuts in, her cheeks flushing. “Yeah, your ego is huge.”
“Is that what we’re calling it now? It’s a strange nickname but I think I can make it work.”
She slaps my chest and I grab her arms, pinning them to her side. She thrashes against me trying to break away. I’m barely using any strength to hold her down and I find it extremely amusing (and a little arousing) that she’s fighting so hard against me.
“You love my ego.” I chuckle, yanking her forward so her chest is flush on mine and her lips only inches away. “You love the way my ego feels.”
I tilt my head forward and she gasps as I suck her bottom lip into my mouth. I let it go. “Whether you like the way it tastes is yet to be seen.”
I watch her face as her lips straighten into a serious
line. “Keep this grip on me and I guarantee your
ego
won’t see the outside of your pants this entire trip.”
I arch an eyebrow, but her face doesn’t falter and I release her. Not a second later, she crushes her lips to mine. Olivia parts
her thighs and slips them over mine as she rakes her fingers through my hair. It takes me by complete surprise. I’m thoroughly dazed, my brain and body out of sync as they desperately scatter to catch up with each other. As her tongue roughly massages mine, my hands come up and grip her ass, pulling her hard against me. With a sharp inhale, she rolls her hips into me and I groan into her mouth. Luckily, the windows are black glass and no one can see in. Only my eyes will see my girl when she’s like this—horny and commanding. I think having her hands on me is exactly what I need to ease the negative thoughts. My head swims with the taste of her and the feel of her against me. Only she has the power to consume me, to eradicate all train of rational thinking. Even an occasional brush of her hand against my skin is enough to send a warm shock through my system.
Olivia pulls back an inch and our breath collides between us. I look at her face. Her eyes are thinned into lust
y slits, her lips swollen from our kiss. The waves of energy between us has my heart pounding and it takes all of my strength not to swallow hard.
“I
promise I will love every second I get to taste you.”
She leans forward and in one painfully slow movement
, she kisses me softly before sliding off me and exiting the car.
I exhale, pulling her jacket over my lap to conceal the erection that’s trying to f
orce its way through my zipper and I give myself a few long minutes to compose myself before sliding from the car. The hot, sticky air clings to me and I can’t wait to get inside and out of the desert heat.
The valets take the keys from Darryl w
hile the bell boys retrieve our bags from the back.
“Vegas, baby!” Jackson cheers, slinging an arm over my shoulder.
I nudge him with my elbow and he recoils. “Let’s not make this a repeat of our first trip to Vegas. Let’s keep it like last time, nice and quiet.”
He scoffs. “You had a ball when we came the first time.”
He’s referring to the time he and I came to Vegas for my twenty-first birthday .I roll my eyes at him. “It’s because of that first time I don’t drink anymore.”
Jackson is the only one I know who wears a t-shirt with a formal jacket. Sure, it looks good, but that doesn’t make it any less weird.
“You’re the only person in the world that’d be upset by what you did.” He shakes his head. “Not me. That was fucking awesome!”
My gaze nervously flicks to Olivia
, who seems to be deep in conversation with Selena as they gush over the giant gold lion at the front. I don’t want her to know what I did years ago in Vegas. It makes me sick to even think about it.
“Don’t bring it up anymore
,” I order, my voice sounding a lot more aggressive than I intend.
Jackson flashes me his palms, smiling deviously.
“Relax, I won’t tell her. Your secret is safe with me.”
He winks
and it makes me a little nervous. It’s not really a secret. It’s not that I want to hide it, I just don’t like being reminded of it. I was only twenty-one at the time and I was stupid. Jackson and I got a little wild. Vegas is the ultimate party spot and when I drink, I tend to get a little out of control—in every sense of the term. I got into a fight outside a strip joint—broke the guy’s nose in two places and had sex with three girls at the same time. My stomach churns as my brain pulls up on and off broken flashbacks of me fucking all of them. I cringe. I’ve never been more disgusted with myself. I’m not one to regret or care about my decisions because at that point in time, it was exactly what I wanted…but that night left me feeling as stupid and as low and pathetic as my dad always implied. When I drink, I become uncontrollable—angry, horny, and unstoppable. It’s not something I’m proud of, either, and it’s something I tend to avoid. I don’t like that part of me. I don’t like that alcohol brings out a more magnified version of me and my inability to control myself was part the reason I always declined alcohol around Olivia. If she thinks I’m insatiable and aggressive now, she hasn’t seen anything until I’ve had my fair share of booze. The second time I saw Olivia, at Lux’s back in Portland, I went out that night with only the intent to drink and fuck her out of my mind…but then I saw her dancing with Selena and she planted her roots in. I stopped drinking after half a beer on the notion that if I drank anymore, I wouldn’t treat her like the good girl she is. I wouldn’t have stopped until I had Olivia in the bathroom, in the alleyway, or on the fucking dance floor—I didn’t care.
Olivia, however, is the polar opposite. When she
drinks, she’s all cute and bubbly, complete with hiccups and all.
“Let’s go
and settle in, ladies and gentlemen,” Darryl announces, slipping a pink ‘Let’s Party’ shirt on over the top of his black tee. “This is our home for the next three weeks. I am without children and other father-related responsibilities.” He looks at me. “Well, mostly.”
I laugh. Darryl is a known party animal. He loves beer
, boobs, and dancing. He’ll undoubtedly want to hit up a strip club or two while we’re here,
and
he’ll call his wife, Janie, right in the middle of it. That’s the kind of relationship Darryl and Janie share. Janie has no problem with Darryl having fun with the boys. In fact, she’s tagged along once or twice. Olivia’s fingers thread though mine. I hadn’t realized she left Selena and approached me. I squeeze them gently and I feel her fingers flex in return.
“Look!” Selena squeals, pointing out toward the road. “They’ve got you on a TV.”
I follow the direction her skinny arm is pointing and I see me on an LED television up high by the road. I scan my stern face and oiled skin. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing myself so…public. Being ‘out there’ only makes it more embarrassing if I fail .I look at my opponent, Junior Moset, on the opposite side of the screen, who I’ll fight in the MGM Grand Garden Arena. He’s a little smaller than me…not intimidating at all…so why am I suddenly feeling so much self-doubt?
I don’t deserve this and I’m going to fuck it up.
I start to over think things—everything feels wrong. Olivia releases my hand and her fingers travel north before wrapping around my elbow and pulling my arm into her chest. Olivia doesn’t touch my face or hold me like she usually does when I’m feeling on edge. Those moments are for us only and I don’t like sharing my problems with everyone else—even Darryl and Jackson. If I really focus, I’m sure I can feel her heart beating against me and the thought alone is enough to ease my tension.
“We can all gaze on Seth’s perfection later.” Olivia laughs. “I want to see my room.”
“Since you boys are going to be busy all the time, maybe Olivia and I should share a room?” Selena suggests, flicking her long blonde hair over shoulder.
Like fucking hell.
Jackson and I start our protest at the same time, forcing Selena to take a slight step backwards.
“I don’t think that’s a bad
ide—” Olivia begins and I cut her off.
“You’re staying with me.”
Vegas is a big city and not the kind of place I want Olivia walking around without me, especially under the influence of Selena who, let’s face it, isn’t exactly the smartest person in the world or the most innocent. When I first met Olivia, she was drinking beer in a steakhouse in the morning, roofied in a club, and groped in a parking lot all because of Selena. I won’t have it. No fucking way.
Selena’s green eyes narrow in on me. “Jesus Christ, it’s only a suggestion. Nobody is taking your precious away from you.”
Beside me, Olivia giggles and when I look down at her, she shrugs and bites her lip. I’m glad she finds this so amusing, but I don’t. I need our time in Vegas to go off without a hitch. Everything I’ve planned for Vegas all adds up to the one big question I will ask her. All of it. I can’t take any chances.
Darryl sighs.
“Keep fighting and Olivia and Selena are sharing a room with me. Stick to the original plan. Selena and Jackson, Seth and Olivia, and me and myself. Happy?”
Everyone agrees and turns to enter the hotel. I g
lance over my shoulder and take one last look at the sign.
I can do this.
Olivia
I still can’t get over the sheer extravagance of our room. Even with Jackson, Darryl and Selena here, the Skyline Terrace suite still feels large and empty. The two-story suite is easily seven hundred and eighty square feet and is filled with loads of elegant furniture. Why he paid for such a big suite for just the two of us is beyond me, all five of us can fit in here easily.
I drop my black stilettos onto the
bathroom tiles and adjust my clingy dress. Selena brought it up for me to wear after she refused to let me leave the hotel in the plum colored dress I’d originally chosen. This one is nice, if not a little revealing.
I side step in front of the arty floor length mirror just outside of the
bathroom and into the master bedroom. I adjust the front of the dress to prevent my nipple from falling out before analyzing the rest of my outfit. The hemline at the base of the dress stops mid-thigh and curves a little higher in the middle, exposing a large portion of my legs. I turn around and my back is completely exposed, the whole dress held together by a few thin straps attached to a metal ring in the middle of my spine. This dress is the epitome of sexy club dresses…and it so isn’t my style.
The bedroom door whips open and Seth strolls in. I watch him, waiting for him to see me, but apparently he thinks he’s alone up here. I lean against the wall and watch him and his delicious naked torso walk around the room, apparently in search of a shirt. He threw his clothes
all over the bed when we arrived and I put them away in the wardrobe. Might as well settle in, this is our home for three weeks.
He pauses and scratches the back of his head. I smile and bite back a giggle. Watching someone as beautiful as him be so genuinely perplexed is amusing and heart-warming.
“They’re in the wardrobe,” I tell him with a chuckle.
He snaps around to face me and his
expression shifts from surprised to…something else. I know the look. I’ve been on the receiving end of it for months now—desire. Pure desire. The look in his eyes makes my heart rate increase, but I continue to lean coolly against the wall, like he isn’t affecting me. He inhales and his muscles contract, relaxing on exhale.
“What happened to the other dress? The purple one?”
I want to tell him the difference between purple and plum, but you know what? He’s a male, he’ll never understand. Lavender, plum, mauve—to them it’s all ‘purple.’
“
I changed my mind.” I don’t tell him it’s Selena’s. He already has a few…issues with her decisions. “You don’t like this one.”
He nods slowly. “And I’d be an idiot to let you leave this room in it.”
I step forward, feeling rather daring. I don’t know what it is, but lately I like challenging Seth and it turns out, with enough force, he melts like putty in my hands. It’s a nice change. He’s always the one to order me around and mold me to what he wants, but now it’s me. I wonder if he realizes that he’s bending to my needs. I wonder if he realizes that he’s a hell of a lot more in love with me than he knows. What does Jackson call him? Pussy whipped. That’s it. Seth is pussy whipped, by me.
I step toward him, smiling. It’s not one of my usual smiles. I can feel it. It’s mischievous—daring. “Are you going to stop me?”
His eyes thin out and the challenge comes through loud and clear. Testing him, I proceed to walk past him and I barely make one step past his body before his hand shoots out, planting itself on my stomach. The heat from his hand causes my stomach muscles to clench. I look at him and his dark eyes are on mine. They lure me in from underneath his brow and I turn my body toward him, completely hypnotized by his intensity.
“I’m not going to stop you
,” he tells me. “But I am going to make sure you remember
exactly
who you’re with and
exactly
who you’re coming home with.”
As if I’d forget.
He comes at me, gripping my hips and forcing me backwards. The back of my legs hit a table and pushes me against it. I drop my hands to the surface to stabilize myself as Seth smashes his mouth to mine. Tingling warmth and pleasure sweeps through me as one of his hands rest on the table behind me, the other heavy hand pulls my dress up to my hips and slips straight into my underwear without so much as a please. He doesn’t check to see if I’m ready or not because he knows I am—I always am for him and he slips a finger inside me. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as a shiver tears down my spine. A frisson of hot, sinful pleasure hums my skin and I shift my hips forward, wanting to be closer to him as my patience gets the best of me. I’m so incredibly wet and his finger glides with ease in and out of me.
I lift my hands, placing them on his hard biceps and I feel him trembling with lust. He hunches over me with a rough exhale,
adding a second finger and forcing me to bend with him, arching my back.
His fingers slide in and out quickly now, with purpose and intention.
He lowers his mouth to my ear and I shudder, rolling my hips on his hand. “All night you are going to feel my fingers inside you.”
H
e curls his fingers, grazing my sweet spot, and I clench his arms, gasping unashamedly into his shoulder. He pumps his fingers harder and faster, pressing into me from the inside. My mind blanks and my body jerks as heat explodes inside me, leaving me breathless and desperately limp.
Seth pulls his fingers out
and brings them to my face before dragging one over my bottom lip. “All night you are going to remember how hard I made you come and you’re going to be eager to get home so I can do it to you all over again.” The way he draws the last three words moistens me immediately. “When we come home, I’m going to pound into you so hard, you’ll feel like you’re going to break.”
“You want to break me?”
His scorching eyes flare at me. “Like fucking porcelain. I’m going to lie you down on the bed, spread your legs, and fuck you so thoroughly the only word you’ll remember tomorrow is my name.”
I catch my breath. “That epic, huh?”
“You have no idea.”
He kisses my nose and saunters toward the cupboard. I watch, trying to regain my composure as he pulls a shirt from the bedside table. When he’s happy, he turns back around and strolls toward the door. “Let’s get out of here.”
I slip off the table and trail lazily behind Seth as he pulls a nice light blue tee over his head.
That’s all it takes for him to get dressed?
I spent forty minutes doing my hair and makeup. He rakes his fingers through his hair, throws a shirt on, and calls himself finished—and somehow, he still looks perfect—as if he’d spent an hour grooming himself. If only I could be that simple with anything I do.
A loud wolf whistle pierces my ear and I cringe, snapping my gaze to Selena.
“I knew that dress would look amazing on you.”
I take in her outfit and suddenly feel a little underdressed. I have never, ever,
ever
in my life seen Selena dressed and ready for a club in anything more than tissue sized fabric. Yet, here I am, the one in a skimpy dress and her dressed to the classy nines in a pair of tight, black slacks, high black heels and a beautiful, satin pearl shirt with a plunging neckline.
“Selena
…” I ask cautiously, walking down the rest of the stairs and towards the kitchen. “Where are we?”
She arch
es an eyebrow and eyes me curiously. “Las Vegas.”
In the background somewhere I hear Darryl chuckle.
“And how many dresses do you own specifically for Las Vegas?”
Selena flicks her long blonde curls over her shoulder—
and she didn’t straighten her hair? What the hell? Has hell actually frozen over?
I watch her, still in shock as she steps into the kitchen. On the counter there are three shot glasses already made up, filled with unknown and undoubtedly potent spirits. She grabs one and hands it to me. I look at it for a second before taking it from her.
“You need to relax. I have three weeks to wear slutty dresses.” She winks at me. “You’ll only go out twice maximum
, so you can wear the nice dress tonight and the stupid plum one next time.”
I feel Seth move from behind
me. He leans on the counter next to me. “And here I was thinking Olivia was an adult capable of making her own decisions.”
Jesus Christ.
I down my shot in one swallow and slap it down on the counter, gritting my teeth against the burning booze.
“It’s fine. I’ll wear the dress,” I smile at Selena. “
but only because I know it’ll kill you seeing me in one while you’re stuck in pants.” I poke at the empty shot glass, inching it closer to her. “Your turn.”
She flushes a shade of pink I’ve never seen grace her cheeks before as she fills the glass. “I’ve had my fill for the night
,” she informs me, sliding the glass back.
Seth and I look at each other and he seems just as baffled as I am. Selena doesn’t ‘have her fill
.’ When it comes to alcohol, her stomach is a bottomless pit.
From behind me, Jackson swoops in and wraps his full lips around the glass, tipping it down his thro
at. I glance at Seth again and he shrugs with a small smile on his lips.
I have the feeling Jackson has a lot to do with Selena’s behavior tonight. I’m happy that he’s helping her to quit smoking and drinking, but I hope he isn’t putting too much pressure on her. I’m her best friend and I couldn’
t even get her to
listen
to me about the risks of ingesting too much alcohol. She’s always been assertive and her own person in her own right and no one has been able to tell her differently…until now. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind that Selena isn’t drinking. I just hope it’s her own decision and not Jackson’s.
Jackson slides the remaining shot glass across the
counter to Seth. Without hesitation he pushes it right back. I’ve never really found out why Seth chooses not to drink…my assumptions always begin and end with his mother, but I don’t think that’s the whole story. I watch the silent exchange of glances between Seth and Jackson. Jackson appears to be having the time of his life as he bites back a smile. Seth, however, tries to keep his calm façade, but even I can see the warning in his eyes. Whatever is going on, it’s making me uncomfortable.
My mood suddenly dampens and going out feels like it’ll be more of a chore than an adventure. I fail to see the point in going out of it’s only Jackson and I drinking—and Darryl too, wherever the hell he is. I can’t hide my pout.
“You guys have all been to Vegas before. You’ve all done it, but I haven’t. I want crazy, dramatic, and exciting. I want loud music, gambling and strong alcoholic beverages with stupid sexual names…I want the Vegas experience.”
Which is actually stupid. I hate clubbing, I’ve hated it for as long as I can remember, but I’m in Vegas and you don’t avoid the clubs in Vegas.
Am I being selfish?
I can’t tell.
With an exhale, Seth reaches for the shot glass and slams it back with such ease you’d think he’s
shooting water.
“You want the Vegas experience then I’ll give it
to you at your own risk,” he tells me, sliding his glass to the middle of the marble counter.
Jackson claps his hands before pouring us another round of drinks and Darryl slips into the kitchen from the living room as soon as he hears the lid unscrew and joins us at the island.
“My own risk?” I wonder aloud.
He nods. “Yep. You
want crazy, dramatic, and exciting? It’s yours, but I’m only giving you until I finish my next shot to back out. Once I’ve downed the shot, you’re on the Vegas rollercoaster, your safety bar is locked, and there is no getting off…” He smirks and caresses the hem of my dress. “Unless it’s by me, of course.”
I feel heat flood my cheeks. Seth will say anything in front of
anyone and sometimes, I admire his boldness. Other times, I want to jam my hands in his mouth to prevent him from speaking. I drop my sight to his fingers and I watch as they curl around the tiny glass. It seems almost doll-like in his large hand. I follow the cup all the way to his lips. His brown eyes lock with mine and he seems almost excited, like he’s daring me to let him drink it. Seth begins to pour the liquid into his mouth before tipping the whole thing down his throat. He swallows and my pulse begins its rapid ascent, from normal to overdrive. Shit.
What have I gotten myself into?
“Oh yeah!” Jackson cheers, pouring a
shot and handing it to Selena. “We are in for a treat tonight, ladies and gentlemen. Seth is here and he’s bringing the action!”
Seth rolls his eyes. “Let’s get out of here.”
Jackson slides us all a shot each and we take it. Sadly, I’m the only one to recoil from the taste. It’s then I realize I’m barely going to be able to hang with these guys—even Seth, who seems to be more acquainted with the taste of alcohol than me, which really piques my curiosity.
