Not today, Satan.
The party didn’t start until two, but the house was flooded with activity by noon. A few were early partygoers, but mostly it was various service staff: caterers, waiters, bartenders, and the like. Ro handled most of it without a word to me, but occasionally she had to seek me out to ask my personal preference on something or other.
One such time I was in my bedroom and had just changed into swim trunks.
She barely knocked on my door before charging inside, the bold little minx. Luckily for her, I’d covered all the essentials first. No use putting a picture in her head.
I slipped my thumbs into my shorts, resting them there, but more importantly, pushing the waistband down to expose more skin, watching her face the entire time.
Her eyes followed my hands, and I watched with smug satisfaction as she flushed, looked away, then dragged her eyes back like she couldn’t keep them away.
“Hey, eyes up here, cupcake,” I told her mock sternly.
Her big Bambi eyes glared at me.
She got her revenge for that soon enough.
“Come here,” she said to me sometime later as I walked into the kitchen. Her hands were behind her back.
I was instantly wary. She was up to something.
“You’re fucking with me,” I pointed out.
She pointed at herself, one hand still held behind her back, her face a mask of innocence and sarcasm that only she could pull off. “Me? Nooo.”
“I don’t trust you,” I said.
“This won’t hurt, I promise.” Her voice was mostly neutral, but there was another thread to it, one I was only beginning to recognize now, as I learned to read her better.
“I don’t believe you,” I told her, glaring. “That’s your bad girl voice.”
“All the good girls go to hell anyway. At least, that’s what Billie Eilish says.”
“Who the hell is Billie Eilish? Is she coming to the party? She doesn’t sound like someone you should hang out with.”
She just laughed and laughed. She was mocking me.
And I liked it. A little too much.
Way too much.
“You really don’t know who that is?”
I just shook my head, smiling at her, bemused.
“She’s a singer. Have you been living under a rock?”
“More or less.”
“Well, she’s really good. You should listen to her while you write.”
“Okay,” I told her. “I’ll look her up.” I meant it. Ro had impeccable taste. She didn’t recommend anything unless she genuinely thought I’d like it. “Now tell me what you have behind your back there.”
“I’ll show you. Just close your eyes first.”
I finally gave in out of sheer curiosity for what she’d do next.
I felt her move close to me and stopped breathing as she brushed against me to drape something light over my neck. She grabbed one of my hands, moving it, and I felt the tips of my fingers go a bit numb with the effort not to grab anything forbidden and conveniently within reach.
It was done in a flash, which was a mercy.
“Okay, look.”
I looked down at myself, at what she’d placed on me. It was a sash, and it took me a moment to realize reading it upside down that it said Birthday Bitch.
I stared at her, genuinely amused.
Absolutely tickled. “What the fuck, Ro?”
She beamed at me, and I almost jumped her on the spot. “I saw in your calendar that your birthday’s in a few days so I planned accordingly. Surprise.”
I started laughing, and I couldn’t help it, I grabbed her and pulled her soft body into a hot, affectionate hug.
Luckily she didn’t take immediate exception, her little arms wrapping around my middle as she laughed along with me.
“Birthday bitch, though? Really?”
“I saw it at Party City, and I just couldn’t resist.”
“So long as you know you’re wearing this on your birthday, too.”
I nuzzled the top of her head and she pulled away, shooting me a disgruntled look.
“What? I’m an affectionate guy.”
“Affectionate like a horny puppy.”
“A horny puppy? Really? That the best you can come up with?”
Her soft, pouty mouth was twisted thoughtfully. “Ridiculous, perverted, narcissist,” she tried.
“Hey!” That one hit close enough to home to actually sting a bit. “I’m not ridiculous.”
She was walking away. “I’m too busy for this, you gorgeous asshole,” she muttered under her breath.
“That one was practically a compliment!”
She ignored that.
“Now, listen,” I told her, following her persistently, going into my boss lecturing tone, “you’ve organized everything. The catering company and wait staff can take it from here. Why don’t you just relax and have fun? It’s a party. Enjoy yourself for once. Hell, put on a swimsuit.” She was still wearing some of her hideous work attire, as usual.
She stopped walking, turned and smiled at me. “I’m glad you said that. That is just what I was planning to do. It is my day off.”
“You don’t have days off.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Whatever,” I shot back. It was a longstanding debate and neither of us had ever conceded more than a whatever in defeat. And by that I meant me. There’d been no whatever from her. She remained consistently stubborn on the point. On all points, really. The adorable little shrew.
It was a few hours later when I caught sight of Ro. The party was in full swing when I noticed her and something strange happened in my brain.
Something vital disconnected.
Or maybe it snapped.
I started behaving strangely, in a way that I couldn’t account for.
She was standing across the pool, flanked by my friends Lourdes, Frankie, and Iris, and she was laughing at whatever Iris had just said.
I didn’t recognize her at first. I’d never seen her wearing so little clothing. The itty bitty black bikini that barely covered her essentials was wholly uncharacteristic for her.
Which was why I immediately blamed the three wicked women she currently found so fucking funny.
Troublemaking females, I thought with a huff.
Her figure wasn’t boxy. On the country, she had delicate, shapely shoulders, world class, natural tits, and a tiny waist that shaped into some very grabbable hips.
She had a knock ’em out and kill ’em, figure, and she’d been hiding it like her life depended on it this entire fucking time.
I’d strongly suspected, but having it confirmed was not helpful at all.
I watched the women huddled together, gimlet-eyed. Iris, Devereux, Frankie and Lourdes and several other party girls I vaguely recognized.
I was lounging in the shade under a cabana, Dair next to me, Heath on the other side of him.
I sent Dair a look, and he nodded silently. He saw what was happening.
I sent Heath the same look, but he just glared at me and kept sipping his beer. Even with the soothing influence of his lovely wife Lourdes and their cute little son, he was still the scariest motherfucker I’d ever met.
“Seriously?” I asked the men. “No one else is worried about this? Look at them. They’re planning world domination over there. We should be frightened.”