“Yeah?”
I put on my best Austin Powers voice. “Behave.”
He laughed and said, “I will.”
***
An hour later, I was just putting the last tray of the chocolate leaves in the cooler when my phone alerted with a text. It was from James.
U need to get here ASAP.
Attached to the text was a photo. It was hard to make out, but it appeared to be a man, at a bar, with his head in his hands, visibly upset. I couldn’t see the face, but he seemed vaguely familiar.
Who is that?
The groom. Bryant Colby. He’s been sitting at the bar, drinking heavily and he looks really upset.
I’m on my way.
The whole way over there, I kept telling myself that I was just making sure there was no problem with tomorrow’s event. That’s what a good caterer would do, of course.
The truth was, I was worried that he might have found out that Kimberly was cheating on him. That would be devastating news to discover the night before your engagement party.
***
The place on Orange was one of those high end bars with certified mixologists and mood lighting. I valet parked my car, which I hate doing, and realized I was dramatically underdressed. It was Saturday night and all the other women were dressed in high heels, short dresses that showed miles of legs, eyelash extensions, and cleavage on display. I was wearing a Panic at the Disco t-shirt, blue jeans, my work clogs, and let’s just say my hair put the “messy” in the term “messy bun.”
But I wasn’t here on a date. I was here to help a friend. I mean a client. I was here to help a client.
Pushing my way through the crowd, I found my way to the bar. Sure enough, he was sitting in the corner seat in virtually the same position as in the photo James had sent. He looked to be in rough shape.
“Hey. What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”
Chapter Nine: Water Under the Bridge
I didn’t think he’d heard me at first, so I slid into the bar stool next to him. I was shocked it was open, honestly, given the number of people in here.
I reached out and touched his arm. “Hey.”
He looked at his arm, where my hand was, and then looked at me. His expression changed from pained to happy. “Nikki? What are you doing here?”
“The real question is what are you doing here? Is this some kind of weird, sad solo bachelor party?”
He shook his head, and drunkenly said, “No. I was going to call you. The wedding is off.”
If it were possible for my heart to sink and be raised at the same time, it just did.
“What happened?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“I don’t want to say. It’s too humiliating. You’ll still get the full caterer’s fee, though. Don’t worry.” He took another long sip of his drink.
“Bryant. I’m not here because I’m your caterer. I’m here because I care.”
He shook his head and I could see his eyes were rimmed with tears. “It’s so stupid. Why am I this upset? I dodged a fucking bullet. I didn’t want to marry her in the first place. Why am I acting like this?”
I put my hand over his and said, “Because no one likes to be cheated on.”
The bartender came over and slid a napkin my way, “What can I get you?”
Before I could answer, Bryant downed his drink, shook his head, and said, “Nothing.” He grabbed my hand, stood up (rather wobbly, actually), reached in his pocket and took out a hundred dollar bill and slid it to the bartender. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, tugging me toward the door. “I need some fresh air.”
***
I wasn’t exactly used to hanging out with billionaires, but I discovered that one advantage of wealth is that you can drink as much as you want and not have to worry about getting home. Bryant’s driver had been surprised, but professional as he opened the door to the limo for me.
We pulled up to the marina and the car came to a stop right in front of the largest yacht I’d ever seen in person. This couldn’t be his, could it?
“Shall I wait to take the lady home?” the driver said.
“No, I’ll call if we need you. Head back to the house and get some rest.”
I stepped out into the cool night feeling like some strange Disney princess. Except I was wearing my work clothes and clogs instead of a ball gown and a glass slipper. Bryant got out his key fob and waved it over the pad, and the door to the dock opened.
“Welcome aboard Beta Test,” he said, holding the transom open for me. “Let’s get you something to drink. I’m just going to have coffee, since I’m way ahead of you.”
“I’ll have coffee too. I have an event tomorr... oh wait. I guess I don’t.”
We went into the galley and he put a coffee pod in the machine. “I’m glad you’re here. I was going to a very dark place back there. This is much better.” He handed me a cup, made one for himself, and then said, “Let me give you a tour.”
***
Fifteen minutes later, I’d had a tour of the yacht and we were up on the bridge, sitting on a large couch that looked out at the dark water. It was completely private, and felt like we were the only two people in the world.
I was nestled in the crook of his arm, just about to finish my coffee. “I’m really sorry about Kimberly, Bryant. You deserve better than that.”
He leaned down and looked me in the eyes. “I do. I do deserve better than that.”
The kiss wasn’t unexpected. And it was just as passionate as the one that day in the kitchen. Except this time, I didn’t feel guilty. Bryant was not engaged anymore, and technically not my client anymore either. He was just a damn sexy man who happened to be a billionaire, and happened to be turning me on.
Our lips never parted, as his hands made their way down the front of my t-shirt. Tugging it up, he cupped my breast, rubbing my nipple between his fingers.
An electric wave of pleasure shot through me, and I arched my back, and moaned.
He stood up, and pulled his shirt over his head. Standing there, with tight muscles rippling over his frame, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, he looked like the cover of one of those romance novels I used to read. God, he is beautiful.
My eyes wandered down the length of his jeans, and I could see his need for me. Reaching out, I tugged open the button on his jeans, and pulled them down.
Now freed from the confinement of clothing, I looked at his erection and wondered how anyone could be more perfect. I removed the rest of my clothes, and was grateful for the shelter of the bridge. I wasn’t cold at all, and was able to enjoy the night sky.
His hands began to explore every inch of my body. As his fingers dipped into the warm, wet place between my legs, I instinctively opened for him. My pussy was drenched with the desire that had been building since the day I met him.
With one simple move, he became part of me. Moving back and forth, together, our rhythm increased. What started as slow, gentle lovemaking became fervent and passionate. Gentle waves of pleasure became pounding surf.
He moved with slow, shallow thrusts until I began to meet each thrust, seating him deeper. Then he stopped being careful and gentle. He hooked his hand under my knee and pushed my hips wider as he plunged deep, over and over again until I tightened around him, squeezing, triggering a release that made me lose all sense of time and place.