It Had to Be You

Chapter 3 : Super Rich Kids

Wes' POV

“Fuck."

My mouth felt like I'd swallowed all the cotton balls in the bathroom cabinet last night. I tried to will myself to keep what…ever I'd eaten the night before still in me. The sun was cop flashlight bright, and a headache attacked my mind before I could even process what the time was on my phone. Somewhere between too early for this s**t and too late for consequences.

“f**k it," I murmured into my pillow, still smelling like Stefano Ricci's Royal Eagle Sport and something more feminine. Delicate. It made my mouth water, even though my stomach turned at the thought of more food. So maybe I hadn't eaten anything?

I turned over, trying to figure out what I could have Lisette, my personal, make when I came face-to-face with an ass even Beyoncé would feel envious of.

Guess I know what I'd eaten last night. p***y.

Problem was. I could barely remember it all.

No, last night was a hazy afterimage filled with smoke, laughter, and lights. Courtesy of some Benzos and booze—the choice cocktail of the rich and already famous. I remember being captivated by a sequence gown—rose gold that looked pretty with her baby peach waves—and green eyes that looked old in a young face.

I remember I was conflicted—I thought about Eva—but then remembered her cussing me out over text. That hadn't even been me at New 54—that had been the back of Clifford Filmore's ashy-ass head. Can't believe she'd confuse me with the likes of a Filmore, but I'd forgive her because he was a very, very distant relative on my mom's side.

And he did steal my new cut.

Everyone who'd seen me on the cover of People had stolen it.

Maybe that meant it was time for something new. I was feeling pink anyway…

Speaking of pink—

“Hey, you." I nudged her with my foot, waving my hand so the transistor glass for my window would darken up. Gotta love those nerds from Silicon, they knew where it was at. “You dead?"

“Hmmf." She moved and it didn't seem like a death rattle or a seizure-inducing OD. For half a second while my mystery bedmate turned I thought I saw…her.

And suddenly, I was back.

There was blood on a stretch of asphalt road. Brunette, brown-eyed. Glassy eyed. Dead eyed.

“What did you do?" her mouth seemed to say. I'd never heard her voice; she was dead by the time I checked on her. Died on impact, people had said during the trial, she was only twenty-one, and had her whole life in front of her.

“What?" I said to the dead girl, left eye twitching, right underneath the scar from the crash. “What do you want with me?"

“I said, 'What did you do?'" Pinky Peach had turned over, t**s out, one of them pierced. Party girl all right.

She looked at me like I was weird like she was expecting me to projectile on her and ruin all this fine ass 1020TC Egyptian Cotton. Nah, I had more class than that.

When I had more bedside manner than she expected, Pinkie raised a manicured brow at me, lifting a flat hand to the side of her head. “Phone?"

“Phone? Oh—" Shouldn't have turned around so fast, that had been a mistake. I had to count to six to keep spinning at bay. I picked up the phone that was obviously hers, rose gold to match the dress I could spy hanging off the doorknob, thong near the trash can, a trail to this very bed. Good night then. “Here. You got somewhere to be?"

“My modeling gig, remember? JJ agency?" Ah, so that's what her game was. Get close to me to get close to my cousin Savage. Another user then. Well, users had their place now didn't they?

“You know I don't." I won't lie, I liked the way Pinkie laid back in my sheets like she belonged there. Like I was an inconvenience to her by leaning over and kissing her deeply. Pinkie made a noise like she was annoyed, pretty peridot eyes still glued to her Google calendar.

I reached down between us, fingers sliding down her body till I got to where I wanted to go. At least here she was honest. “You going to ignore me all morning or am I going to have to earn your attention?"

That got her—hook line and sinker. She pressed something on the app and then put the phone on silent, tossing it on the other nightstand that I rarely used.

“You weren't this bossy last night." She wrapped her arms around my neck, parting her legs so I could work her. “I like it."

“Gotta impress my ladies."

Pinkie's peach-colored hair blended into my cream sheets and all I could think of was a Frenchly tainted tacky.

No. f**k, don't—no! Don't think about Eva! Don't think about how she'd wreck this girl. How hot she is when she's on a war path. Baddest b***h on this earth, living or dead.

You got a f*****g goddess in your bed and your busy thinking of that frigid French—but s**t—s**t—I love her. I love Eva and all her venom.

Why…why does she have to play games like this when she knows we're meant to be?

What do I have to do to get her to know that?

Probably not be balls deep in another woman for starters, but—no. No, f**k it. Focus man, eyes on the prize. Eva left you because you couldn't make it to one dinner in Daniel's on E 65th. It wasn't even an anniversary or a birthday.

She wanted me to choose between some random ass dinner and being there for Gigi Indy's chemo. She didn't even ask me—No, she hadn't cared. I knew how Eva could be, jealous as she was ambitious. Insecure because she was the daughter her father had gotten instead of a son.

I was tired of holding her baggage and mine. Maybe…maybe Eva was right and we needed a break. Maybe I deserved it.

I knew the snow falling on my shoulders wasn't real, but I couldn't help but feel a cold leech into me.

Red and blue lights. Always the red and blue.

Yeah… I deserved it. Why wouldn't I deserve to be miserable after all the things that I've done?

So, I sucked it up and swallowed down nausea and heartache to focus on the silken grip soaking and stroking my c**k. I gripped Pinkie's thighs, pulling her to me as I f****d her rougher than I ever would have Eva. Anything to numb me to the world and the choices that led me here.

And Pinkie's nails raking down my back was answer enough.

***

“Coz—" My bedroom door opened, too quickly for me to toss the covers over her.

Cameron's house slides sounded as obnoxious as the man himself, slapping against the tile of my bedroom. He hadn't noticed me getting my d**k sucked, eyes on his phone as he was rapid-fire texting, and Pinkie wasn't stopping much to my shock. Oh, I did like her.

“—We got a problem! Do you remember Johnathon who's related to Nero who's friends with Michelle? Not bony Michelle but nice-ass Michelle? Well, she heard from her sister who heard from her maid, that TMZ—JESUS CHRIST!"

Cameron went to cover his eyes but nearly dropped his phone in the process, and struggled with a juggle of eyes and phone until he gave up and just shoved the phone in his back pocket.

“What have I told you about knocking?"

It was hard to have a conversation with my d**k in her mouth, the way she took me down her throat with no problem. Eva hated blowjobs and thought they were demeaning, but Pinkie didn't have such qualms. Bet you she'd keep the playing field even.

Pinkie played with my balls, nails scraping in a way that had me shallowly thrusting, controlled danger. Best aphrodisiac in the world. I pulled on her hair enough to force her to look up and change the angle to the point where her eyes watered.

I've never seen someone look so thankful.

“That I should do it," Cameron whined, eyes still covered like a kid's during s*x scenes in R-rated movies. “At least put like a sock on the door or something! That way I know—"

“You don't need to know what I get up to, Cam." The wet squelch and slap of us even made my face redden, but I still kept up the pretense because he needed to learn this.

Cameron was loyal to me like all Mondegos were to each other—who else could we trust if not family—but he was becoming a pestering busybody like Tia Margot lately. You say one negative thing about yourself, and the next thing you know everyone is walking on eggshells around you.

I wasn't suicidal. I was just— I pushed my hair back, irritated that I could already tell that I wasn't going get that post-nut clarity like I wanted. Far from it.

I tried not to be biting with my words, but I'm sure I failed when I saw him flinch after I said, “Is this important? Can this wait? Maybe five—no, ten minutes?"

“I—I guess so? I don't know. It's about Eva though, and you can never really tell if it's actually important or if it's just her—" Cameron kept his eyes shut, twirling an index at his temple, “—y'know?"

“I know." Still… “Eva's going to have to wait. I've got—" Whatshername hummed, swallowing on every quarter beat, nails scraping a little along my thighs that had my toes curling. “—Jesus, Mary, and Joseph—f**k off. I don't want to see you for a long ass time, you here?"

Cameron didn't even say anything, just nodded and left.

“p***y," Pinkie husked, licking the underside of my c**k as her hand pumped the base of my shaft. “I can't believe he let you talk to him like that."

“He's my cousin, okay? We've known each other since diapers. It may sound rough, but we're close."

“That's sweet," she snarked, kissing my balls. “But back to business. Are you for real about coming? All right, baby, the rules are simple. Not on my face, not in my hair. t**s are okay though and if you nut on my back, please aim south. Also, I'm taking a shower here. That's not up for debate. You got one of them rainfall showerheads and I want to see what the fuss is all about."

Oh, maybe I was wrong. With Pinkie, maybe the clarity would come.